Showing posts with label movies. Show all posts
Showing posts with label movies. Show all posts

12 Christmas Viewings




FILM/TELEVISION

Discovering the Real Meaning of Christmas Movies


I went through that period in my life where I just groused about the undiscerning quality of so many holiday entertainments and I allowed it to put me off the holdiays, but as I lived longer and learned not to be a grouchy jerk ALL the time, I came to apply my understanding of quality in the media arts to Christmas the same way I did with anything else.  There may be a mountain of garbage in your way, but there's always something good for the people who inform themselves enough to stray from the path occasionally.

This should, in no way, be interpreted as a "Best of" list.  This is simply what I chose to watch this year.  Next year, I'll watch some of the same things, and some I won't.  Some are old traditions.  Some are new.  Some aren't going to be traditions at all, or maybe they just need a break.  Traditions are only as useful as their meaningfulness in our current lives, and when they lose their meaning, it's time to air them out.


A Charlie Brown Christmas -1965

It's been a few years since I've seen this, but it turned out to be the perfect complement to my holiday mood this year.  For weeks, I've had Vince Guaraldi's "Christmas Time is Here" looping through my head, and I drift toward the inevitable on a drowsy blanket of melancholy.  I had forgotten how much of that mood I shared with Charlie Brown in this first animated Peanuts special.

After who-knows-how-many times that I've seen it, A Charlie Brown Christmas still had surprises for me.  I'm not sure what language to use to describe something that might seem dated by the standards of today's audiences, yet remains wildly progressive because most children's entertainment today is beyond moronic.  The Peanuts gang don't talk like children, of course, but I didn't know that when I was a kid, which could explain a few things about how I turned out.  When you realize how much we're underselling our kids, you get just the tip of the iceberg of how much we're underselling our society.  See what I mean?



A Christmas Horror Story -2015

I was thinking last year that I might add a horror movie to my holiday repertoire.  The Finnish "Rare Exports" was interesting, but didn't fit the bill.  This just might.  The semi-anthologized format really works here, allowing the film to touch on different aspects of both horror and Christmas, while making sure that no one story overstays its welcome.  In between acts, we get snippets of William Shatner, which is like buttery-rich icing on the cake.  It's not the goriest, but it does get bloody, and bloody good fun.



Trading Places - 1983

Trading Places is one of the all-time great Christmas movies and I will fight the grandmother of anyone who disagrees.  It's A Christmas Carol and It's A Wonderful Life and Robin Hood and The Book of Job and Eddie Murphy and Dan Aykroyd at the tops of their game in a fable that still feels timely and true.  Top of their games?  Tops of their games?  I'm saying they were both energetic and fully committed to their comically archetypal roles.  It's also packed with terrific character actors and Jamie Lee Curtis in her first big post-slasher role.

The story is timeless, although the film will feel dated to candy-ass millennials -- particularly with regard to political correctness.  The events may span from Thanksgiving to New Years, but it's all Christmas.



A Very Harold & Kumar 3D Christmas - 2011

Now me, I love the Harold & Kumar series.  When it was announced that they were doing a third one, and that it would be a Christmas movie, I was excited, but very cautiously so.  The second H&K, while hilarious, had been a little too much like the first, with a little too little development for the characters.  And of course adding Christmas to something is usually desperate and ill-fated.  Fortunately, the creators actually made the effort, and the result is a solid series entry that totally holds its own AND pleases its audience.  Funny, raunchy, smarter than it acts and sweeter than you'd guess.  I have watched this every holiday season since it came out and it's always a high point in the holiday viewing schedule.



Die Hard -1988

I, personally, like Die Hard 3 the best (Sam Jackson, duh), but that's the only (real) Die Hard movie NOT set at Christmas, so at Christmas, we watch Die Hard.

It's not a great Christmas movie per se, but it's great, and it IS a Christmas movie no matter what anyone tries to tell you.



Arthur Christmas -2011

I didn't think I was going to like this movie.  As it turns out; I love it.

By portraying a family who has passed down the "Santa Claus" identity across generations, it parallels the growth of commercialism in Christmas, and the way that that has diminished its meaning.  In so doing, it serves as a greater cultural metaphor.

But more importantly, it's wild fun and frequently very funny.  Arthur, second son and black sheep of the Claus family is an epic screw-up, but of course he has the heart and soul that the family's militarized gift-delivery operation is lacking.  His earnest faith in the meaning of Santa forms the gravity around which all the heart, hilarity and hi-jinks orbit.  This is animation suitable for adults, especially since many jokes, references and Britishisms will whiz right past the young'uns. 

This film runs deep with quality and talent.  The cast is no joke with James McAvoy, Jim Broadbent, Bill Nighy and Hugh Laurie as the men of Claus, and several other names and nominees in supporting roles.  It would be easy to dismiss it, but that would be like getting yourself a lump of coal for Christmas.  Why would you do that?  Do you hate yourself?  Are you filled with shame?



Scrooged - 1988

Scrooged enjoys a fairly good reputation because it is one of the most fun adaptations of Dickens' Christmas Carol.  That's not saying a lot because, confidentially, I don't think most people actually enjoy A Christmas Carol as much as you, or they, might think.  It's pretty turgid and heavy-handed (Hello, Dickens), the good parts are rarer than you remember, and even if you hadn't seen it a million times, it's just about as predictable as a Swede-penned mechano-pop radio ditty.  That being said, the formulaic morality tale has made it fodder for a vast array of adaptations.  Come to think of it; is there a more adapted tale?  With all the adaptations that there have been (say... Mr. Magoo, The Muppets, Susan Lucci, I assume Urkel did it at some point...), very few of them have been even a little bit good.  It's always been a cheap public domain story for sit-coms, cartoons and basic cable to fall back on.  Many of them try to be funny and of course few of them truly are.  So it's among that peer group that Scrooged shines, but in most other ways, it's somewhat mediocre.

It's not career-retrospective material for Bill Murray.  He feels like he's half-assing his way through this one, and not in that good way.  Despite its themes of seeking authenticity in Christmas, the whole film feels disingenuous.  It's a big, overblown Christmas pageant spectacular, really, with a conference room full of guest actors in bit roles.  That makes it fun, but it doesn't really strengthen the viewer's connection to the characters, and the characters are so thin that they really could have used the help. 

The film could easily have lost one under-developed subplot and it would have been a benefit.  My vote is for the business rival played by John Glover, although I could also let go of the Bob Goldthwait story which felt redundant (splitting the Bob Cratchet character into Alfre Woodard and Goldthwait as recipients of Scrooge/Frank Cross' indifference and cruelty, respectively).  It didn't know what to do with Goldthwait until the story needed him again, so following Frank's cruelty to him, the world just continued to knock him down (while meaningful parts of his story take place off screen).  It seems gratuitously cruel, and that's far from the only time.

And that's really the biggest problem with Scrooged.  No, it's not AS funny as it should be with that cast.  But more than that, it's cold.  The big emotional breakthrough at the end couches itself in the rejection of crass, commercial Christmas, but it is SO crass, saccharine and ham-fisted that the movie almost feels like a shaggy dog story.  On top of the convenience with which all subplots were supposedly redeemed, Murray fakes his way through a finale that either wasn't written or he didn't like.  It was as trite and perfunctory as the last three minutes of a Scooby-Doo episode, and as awkward as a PBS pledge break.

I'm not saying there's nothing to like about Scrooged!.  But I am writing this down now so I'll remember not to let it haunt my Christmases future.



A Very Murray Christmas - 2015

This is a much better way to spend Christmas with Bill Murray.  Not a perfect way, but a better way.  Murray's holiday special about a holiday special finds him wracked with self-doubt and feeling hopeless on Christmas Eve.  It's a slow start to an old-fashioned variety special, but it manages to wedge in the show's high point, as Murray takes casual-acquaintance Chris Rock captive for the most awkward Christmas duet since Bowie met Crosby.

Once the "show" falls apart and the show moves to the bar, it finally builds up a good head of steam.  It's the dressed-down Christmas pageant spectacular befitting the 21st century Murray.  In many ways, it felt like an almost-suitable heir to the traditional Christmas Eve episode of Letterman.  Paul Shaffer is Murray's sidekick and musical director, whether Murray is on TV, in the bar, or passed out and dreaming of fellow Letterman "TV friend" George Clooney.  It played a lot like one of the unrehearsed "bits" that Murray used to do for Dave.

On the one hand, I haven't been able to whole-heartedly endorse A Very Murray Christmas due to its rough spots like the slow first act and some very unpolished performances in places, but now, having re-watched Scrooged! for the last time, on the other hand, that roughness is becoming much more attractive in the light of Scrooged!'s excessive, artificial sheen.

I wasn't sure I would watch it again, but in retrospect, I may not have watched it the right way.  It would be better with friends... and some spiky egg nog (let's face it, you'll switch to whiskey after the first nog), gathered around a coffee table playing games, enjoying the glow of the roaring fire and good friends' laughter.


Christmas Eve

It's a Wonderful Life - 1946

When a tradition is as rich and meaningful as this one, you don't need to replace it.  I know it has a convoluted history of doing poorly in theaters and disappearing until it fell out of copyright, at which point it became ubiquitous Christmas Eve viewing.  That just makes me love it more.  This was a morality tale about the American heart that needed to be revived and preserved.  This is a story that we need to tell ourselves as often as possible; that caring about people is good and that greedy old bastards are bad.

But it's more than that.  It's... everything.  It's a Wonderful Life incorporates a startlingly broad map of human emotion.  That's why we've all had that conversation about noticing something new in it on a third, or thirtieth, viewing.  It's hope and heartbreak, guilt and pride, joy and loss, restraint and passion, humor and earnestness.  Come on, you KNOW that scene with the phone is sexy as hell.

And there's that inescapable truth about it.  Yes, the little guy who cares for others does get the shaft, and we know that's wrong.  In fact, that's part of the reason we keep coming back to it.  We WANT to be George Bailey.  We WANT to be good, to give and care until we're spent... but then we want to know that someone will have our back the way the town finally stood up for George.  We want that, but we know that the world doesn't work that way, and we give up.  Not like George on the bridge.  That's a metaphor for the way we give up in our hearts.  We become the townspeople; needy and grabby and too scared to listen.  We check in with It's a Wonderful Life once a year to see if we've become a bunch of George Baileys yet... and we find a world that more closely resembles Pottersville.

Maybe if we watch it for another thousand years or two, we might pick up on the town coming together in the spirit of generosity.  I mean, surely we'd eventually learn some decency from a two thousand year old Christmas story, right?



The Late Show with David Letterman - Christmas Eve, 2014

I have been watching Letterman's late night shows since the early 80s.  Somewhere along the line, I realized that his Christmas Eve show was a tradition for me.  As the show had become a tradition for me, it was developing its own traditions.  Somewhere along the line, Paul Schaffer was allowed to indulge his most Phil Spector fantasies and bring Darlene Love in to sing Christmas (Baby Please Come Home) and it was amazing and demanded to be repeated every Christmas until the end of time, or at least the show.  I think it was pretty early on when Paul first told his story about the Sonny & Cher Christmas Special, and I missed it if I didn't hear it every year.  After the move to CBS, the meatball on the Empire State Building on the pizza on the Christmas tree became a tradition, and then Dave & Jay Thomas' Quarterback Challenge made them part of a bigger tradition -- a tradition that includes the Greatest Talk Show Story Ever Told.

That show is gone now, but I made sure to save a copy of last year's episode.  I will be watching it every Christmas Eve for years to come.  It's a tradition.




Christmas Day

Elf -2003

Elf is an explosion of fun like the presents and wrapping paper spilled all over the floor on Christmas morning, and that's why I watch it on Christmas Day.  It takes all of the syrupy sweetness that can so often become unbearable, and makes it all work.




Break Down




FILM:

Breakin' 2: Electric Boogaloo - 1984
See link for writing credits
Directed by Sam Firstenberg
With Adolfo "Shabba-Doo" Quinones, Michael "Boogaloo Shrimp" Chambers & Lucinda Dickey


When Golan & Globus managed to beat Beat Street to theaters with Breakin', it became the first break dancing movie and a huge success for Cannon Films.  Never one to leave perfectly good money laying around, Menahem Golan immediately ordered a sequel, and had it to theaters in seven months' time.  That's right, both Breakin' and Breakin' 2 were released in 1984.  Of course, even if you've never seen Breakin' 2, you still remember it for one of the most legendary film titles in cinematic history; Electric Boogaloo.  No one knows what it is (including the stars), but it's all over the sequel.

Now, Breakin' was not a great movie.  It was totally formulaic and had some culturally tone-deaf production elements, but it served its purpose well as an introduction to the world of hip-hop dance.  My abiding impression of Breakin' was that it would have benefitted from a streamlined story and more dancing.

Breakin' 2: Electric Boogaloo listened to the desires that people surely must have had from the first, and then makes them regret it.

While I declared Breakin' to have the story of "every dance movie ever" it turns out that Breakin' 2 has an even older formula; The Big Show.  A bunch of free-spirited and idealistic young people (including our returning heroes) determine to "put on a show" to save their community center.  There's still some "You don't understand my art! You never supported me!" melodrama with Kelly and her super-WASPy rich parents.

There are also the romantic sub-plots, for both good and ill.  Kelly and Ozone continue their painfully awkward hand-holding "romance."  As if their inherent lack of chemistry weren't complicated enough, there's a tall drink of hairspray that reckons she should be Ozone's lady instead and means to chase Kelly (an outsider anyway) away.  There is no reason to care about any of this, and it's just painful to even be reminded that we're pretending they work as a couple.  Confidentially, if Ozone isn't dancing, he looks like he's upset about something he smelled.  All that really comes out of this is a reason for Ozone to get angry about Kelly taking a job in France, which is another subplot that I didn't care about either.

Meanwhile, Turbo gets a love interest this time around too.  He's gobsmacked by a young Latina dancer named Lucia, and although she evidently speaks no English, their limited amount of chemistry only highlights the agony of Kelly & Ozone's.  We get more Turbo, thanks to this, and that just adds personality to the film.  This is a big plus.

Unfortunately, there are just so many more minuses.

Breakin' succeeded despite itself thanks to the dancing, even if it leaves us wanting much more.  Breakin' 2 gives us more dancing.  Sadly, it doesn't give us all that much more breaking.  There is a LOT of dancing in Breakin' 2, but where the original had only flirted with clueless Hollywood floundering, the sequel fully embraces it.  Dance numbers are filled with a great deal of skipping through the streets.  They're much more designed as stage routines than authentic b-boyism.  Despite having more dance overall, I feel fairly comfortable guessing that Breakin' 2 has less actual breakin' than the original.  I was prepared to forgive all other categories if Electric Booglaoo simply had more of the kind of dancing that Breakin' had, but that's the problem.  It's not the kind of dancing we came to see.  There are nuggets of break dance in the other routines, but they play more like guest solos than a full revue.  Despite being Ozone & Turbo's world, the dance is far more Kelly than it was before.

Which is not to say that there isn't ANY good dance.  There's a good number where Ozone & Turbo fight over a "partner" and, as in the first movie, the show-stopper belongs to Turbo.  This time, he break dances his feelings (with actual breaking moves) for Lucia in a number that calls back Fred Astaire, as he dances up the walls and spins on the ceiling.  While this crowd-pleaser gives us a more generous high-concept dose of "Boogaloo Shrimp," it's counterbalanced by a painful and embarrassing "dance combat" number between rival dance crews.  Electric Boogaloo is a heartbreaking example of old guys telling the kids what they're into rather than letting the kids just do their thing.  What they needed to do: feature more break dancers.  What they did; hired more Hollywood dancers.

The really obvious clue that Breakin' 2 was misdirected comes from the costumes.  Breakin's costumes were highly stylized versions of era-appropriate fashion trends.  Breakin' 2's costumes are an old man's reactions to youth culture.  Almost everything is day-glo bright.  If you've only read about the 80s, you might think that's normal, but the day-glo color trend really didn't happen until the late decade.  This reminded me more of an episode of Batman I recently saw where Milton Berle plays a gangster manipulating a "Flower People" youth culture of comically dressed nitwits.  It augments the screen impact, but it diminishes the cultural cache.

The music in Electric Boogaloo follows much the same pattern as its other component parts.  It's bigger, but it's worse and less appropriate.  More radio poppy, less hip-hoppy.  Ice-T returns for some reason, looking like he scored his wardrobe from a picked-over sale of Mad Max leftovers.

While Breakin' aims low and delivered a passably enjoyable artifact of early hip-hop culture, Breakin' 2: Electric Boogaloo tries to go for "more" in all the wrong ways.  There IS some enjoyable dance, but it's buried under a pile of all the things that the sequel made worse through wrong-headed overreach. 

In fact, I'm going to do you a favor.  Here's Turbo's dance on the ceiling on YouTube.  Please enjoy it at your leisure.  Now you have no reason to mess around with Breakin' 2: Electric Boogaloo.  Even when Golan & Globus had a good thing on their hands, they couldn't resist giving it the Anti-Midas Touch.









Houses of Pain


Unless you're paying stalker-like attention to my lonely little blog, you probably haven't noticed that this week's postings have had an unofficial theme that I call Homegrown Horror.  In the interest of cleaning house, so to speak, I'm going to hit and run on a few stupid home-based movies that it's my own damn fault for thinking they wouldn't be.

And yet, rich white people keep buying country houses

I'm just going to get this out of the way now because it applies to all 3 of the following movies.  It's just bad writing when the only back story that characters have -- indeed, the only character that characters have -- are the things that will suddenly become convenient to their survival when the unlikely and unpredictable happens to them.


Those creepy rednecks you ordered are here!
FILM:


The Last House on the Left - 2009
Written by Adam Alleca & Carl Ellsworth
based on the 1972 Film by Wes Craven
Directed by Dennis Iliadis

This is more or less a home invasion horror crossed with a straight-up revenge flick.  A photogenic, rich white family heads up to their lake house to get away from the pressures of being so damn pretty, but Mom remains a worrying fussbudget anyway.  Teen Daughter needs a break so heads into town to visit an old friend.  Nervous Mom continues to worry.  The girls cross paths with an escaped convict and his trashy family.  Teen Daughter gets raped.  Teen Daughter's Teen Friend gets murdered.  Teen Daughter runs away and dives into the lake, swimming for freedom.  She takes a bullet and is left for dead.

Whoa, that wine went straight to my head!
Trashy criminals stagger to the nearest house for help (car crashed in the girls' escape attempt) which just so happens to be photogenic rich white family's lake house.  They get patched up and once the rains starts, are invited to stay in the guest house despite Nervous Mom's misgivings.  Thanks to Teen Daughter's established swimming skills, she's able to limp home, except, you know, the swimming version of limping.  Thanks to Doctor Dad's skills, he's able to patch her up.  Nervous Mom and Doctor Dad kill off Escaped Convict's Trashy Family, except for his Soulful Teen Son who totally switches teams.  The Money Shots are Aaron "Jesse Pinkman" Paul getting his hand shredded in a garbage disposal and Garret "The dad on Raising Hope" Dillahunt gratuitously getting his head 'sploded in a microwave.  The End.

Particular Set of Skills: Teen Daughter's championship swimming.  Doctor Dad's doctoring.  Nervous Mom's mistrust.

Dumb.


I'm not saying I would...


It's a family affa-a-air, It's a family affair
The Loved Ones - 2009
Written & Directed by Sean Byrne

Out of curiosity, I looked up what the Australian equivalent of the word "redneck" might be, and evidently the most popular response is "bogan."  I mention this because, had The Loved Ones been made in America, it would have been set somewhere where the suburban verges on the rural (Texas, Indiana, West Penn, etc) and the villains would have been rednecks.  But it's a Australian film, so the key differences are the accents and that the Big Dance is called the "End of School Dance" rather than "The Prom."

The Loved Ones opens with Rocker Dude and his Dad getting into the car accident that will takes Dad's life.  While the events that will befall Rocker Dude six months later are unrelated to this event, it's entirely responsible for creating his Particular Set of Skills that come to bear later in the story.

Who knew Judas Priest could save your life one day?
Bam, six months later and without introduction, Odd Girl asks Rocker Dude to the Big Dance.  He declines, as he has plans to attend with Girlfriend.  Because Rocker Dude's Dad died, he's having emotional issues that he won't discuss (because dude), and channels his stifled feelings into cutting (with the rocker-appropriate razor blade necklace he wears) and going out to walk his dog and rock climb to have his feelings in an acceptably masculine way.  Then he's knocked unconscious by an out-of-focus man.  Fade to black.

I'm not sure why the movie bothers to hide the identity of his captor from us, since we don't know him yet and they go ahead and show us before Rocker Dude regains consciousness anyway.

Still less creepy than those Father/Daughter Purity Dances
These are details that are not understood by people who paint by numbers.  The captor is the Creepy Daddy of Odd Girl, and in addition to a date, he's brought her a new dress for her own very special End of School Dance.  Cue incestuous overtones.

Rocker Dude awakens at the Formica dinner table with Odd Girl, Creepy Daddy and what I can only assume is Mommy Who Tried to Leave and Got a Homemade Lobotomy for her Troubles; otherwise known as Bright Eyes.  Torture, torture, torture.  Incestuous overtone become incestuous overtures. 

It's a good thing that Rocker Dude has A) a high tolerance for pain brought about by cutting, and 2) a razor blade necklace.  Cuts ropes, fights back, shoves Creepy Daddy into cannibal pit of former victims before surprisingly conscious Odd Girl shoves him in too.

Have you guys seen The People Under the Stairs?
Subplot Cop shows up to open the cannibal pit before being added to it himself, giving Rocker Dude enough bodies to stack so he can get a handhold and pull himself out (remember the rock climbing?).  Rocker Dude and Girlfriend kill Odd Girl with Subplot Cop's car.  The End.

Playing mix and match with things you've seen in other horror movies is not strictly the same thing as having an original thought, and equipping a character with no more than he needs to survive your implausible situation isn't anything like good writing.

Particular Set of Skills: Rocker Dude's resistance to pain, rock climbing ability and razor blade necklace.  Girlfriend's knowledge of Odd Girl's invitation.  Subplot Cop's missing son.

Dumb.


We just HAD to choose the forest with Klieg lights...


Just hangin', how 'bout you?
Treehouse - 2014
Written by Alex Child & Miles Harrington
Directed by Michael Bartlett

In this Ozark-set survival horror, even the good guys are rednecks, which I guess makes the bad guys hillbillies.

After a teenage girl and her young brother are abducted from their home in a nearby town, the kids are sent home early from school and the big festival is canceled.  That won't stop Cool Brother and a reluctant Weenie Brother from setting off fireworks with friends deep enough in the woods to avoid attention.  When their friends don't show up, they decide to set them off anyway, illuminating a treehouse built high up in the trees, and clearly not a place for fun-loving childish hijinks.  In the treehouse, they discover the missing girl, hurt and exhausted.  Cool Brother takes off to find help while Weenie Brother stays to take care of Missing Girl.  Almost as soon as he's gone, he stops responding to his walkie-talkie.

I can't believe he made that hanging joke either.
When the walkie-talkie does finally chirp up, it's the friends who were late meeting them.  The snuffling and branch-rattling noises outside the treehouse disappear, and soon after the radio bleats with the sounds of their terror, only to fall silent again.  By morning's light, Weenie Brother and Missing Girl discover the bodies of Cool Brother's friends dangling from the trees and something watching them from nearby.  It could be aliens or bigfoots... bigfeet... Sasquatches, but really it's just hillbillies, because why else would you set a movie in the Ozarks if it's not going to be hillbillies?

The young 'uns sneak out under cover of the night and try to make their way out of the woods.  A close call with a bear trap convinces them to stay put until the sun comes up.  It turns out they've been spittin' distance from a house the whole time.

BBQ! SUPERSTAR! Who in the world do you think you are?
Seeking aid at the house reveals that it's the home of the same hillbillies who've been hunting them, complete with Dead Mama in the bed and the suggestion of inbreeding in their unglamorous physical appearance.  The house is scattered with Polaroids of them with various victims, including Cool Brother and Missing Kid.

Thanks to Weenie Brother's history with the now-deceased Redneck Soldier Daddy, he knows how to throw a knife and fire a gun, and doing so not only helps his to survive and escape Homicidal Hillbillies, but redeems him to the memory of his hard-assed and abusive father.  Lucky him.

Make sure to empty the clip!  There's another one coming!
After causing a sheriff's truck to swerve off the road, possibly fatally, Weenie Brother and Missing Girl become Weenie MAN and Missing WOMAN when they find they have access to a couple of semi-automatic rifles (Dear gun nuts, I don't give half a shit what they're really called. That ain't my kink, son).  They start spouting hyper-masculine non-sequiturs like they're John Mc-fucking-Clane and head off to exact some "Second Amendment Solutions" on the final Homicidal Hillbilly (who already has a sucking chest wound).  So make sure to arm up, America!  You never know when you might accidentally kill your rescuer.  The End.

Particular Set of Skills: Weenie Brother's knowledge of knife-throwing & shooting and his desperate desire to prove himself to his dead abusive father & dead protective brother.

Dumb.



I am officially done giving chances to these kinds of movies.

What It Feels Like for a Girl (Part 1)

 


So far, most of these movies have followed the Wolf Man tradition and dealt with male werewolves.  Today I'm going to look at a pair of radically different films that place women in the the fore.  The werewolf mythos has made much of the theme of male aggression in the past, but these both recontextualize the tales in uniquely feminine perspectives.



FILM:


In The Company of Wolves - 1984
Written by Neil Jordan & Angela Carter
Directed by Neil Jordan

I have to apologize right off the bat for the inadequacy of my ability to discuss In The Company of Wolves in as thoughtful a manner as it deserves.  I'm going to need to see it at least once more before I really get a grasp on just what the hell is going on here.  The film plays on more than one level and is dense with symbolism.  I can't imagine that that's all meant to be clear before one can approach it with the perspective of having seen the complete story arc, given the revelations involved.

Director Neil Jordan is still most often referenced with The Crying Game, but looking at the body of his work reveals a strong and recurring attraction to the supernatural and the imagination, which, of course, are facets of the same gem.  He's made films about vampires, ghosts, selkies (something of a were-seal in Irish legend) and here, werewolves.  Themes of transformation are also recurrent in his work, whether the mystical or the gender related.  Probably the most frequent element of all in his films is the consideration of sexuality, particularly its role in identity.  In this, Jordan's second film, all of those aspects of his directorial tastes are on full display.

This is also the second of at least nine times that Jordan has used Stephen Rea, who has done at least three werewolf movies in his career.  I don't really have a point here.  I just find it interesting in a trivial way.

The majority of the movie takes place in a young adolescent girl's dream, building up to a distinctly original reinterpretation of Little Red Riding Hood.  Now I, for a long time, have been considering the psychological, symbolic and sexual connotations of the LRRH story, but whatever I'd considered, it's clear to me now that Angela Carter had been there, written a thesis about it, then moved on to even larger considerations and implications.

Within the dream, Rosaleen's sister has been devoured by wolves; an inherent risk for "straying off the path."  Following this event, her grandmother shares with her various tales of the dangers of wolves (often while knitting for her the red shawl that she will come to wear proudly in a world of muted tones).  Over the arc of the narrative, Rosaleen goes from meek child to budding young woman, and the appeal of straying off the path grows, and the lure of wolves becomes more seductive.  Obvious parallels to sexuality are only the beginning.  There's almost certainly something about independence and identity in there too.

None of this is to suggest that you need to watch the film as part of a women's studies curriculum, mind you.  I'm sure it's perfectly possible to enjoy the movie at face value and chalk up recurrent symbols to the fingerprints of cinematic auteurism.  Visually, In the Company of Wolves is lush and beautiful, filled with stimulating imagery that needn't have meaning to be enticing.  A bird's nest filled with eggs that reveal baby figurines inside can simply be strange and surreal without symbolizing fertility, which is merely a guess on my part.

As for the werewolves, Jordan approaches them from both ends of the spectrum.  On the one hand, we have a lot of just plain wolves running around in places, although the wolves are being played by Belgian Shepherds here.  On the other hand, we have some pretty disturbing and explicit werewolf transformations, particularly the one involving Stephen's Rea's character.  The effects aren't quite as high-end as American Werewolf's or even The Howling's, although I found it to be better thought out and even more unnerving than the latter.

It's never really a distinctly scary movie, but Jordan creates such a compellingly surreal atmosphere that conveys an appropriate sensation of dreaming.  There are different kind of dreams, and some of them convey a growing sense of undefined danger and dread as they go through their paces, visiting both seductive and unnerving imagery as they lure us in.  That's the kind of dream that Jordan and Carter craft for us here.  While the overarching narrative isn't necessarily the most compelling story when taken at face value, In the Company of Wolves is a completely unique werewolf movie with more than its share of moments and ideas all wrapped in gorgeousness, which more than earns the repeated viewings it's going to take to really digest it.






Ginger Snaps - 2000
Written by Karen Walton & John Fawcett
Directed by John Fawcett

The makers of Ginger Snaps have some female oriented observations about the werewolf mythos as well, although they approach them much differently.  Key to its development is the observation that both adolescent girl and werewolves are subject to a bloody "monthly curse."

Ginger and Brigette Fitzgerald are morbid pair of Canadian sisters.  At 16 and 15 (respectively) neither one of them have yet gotten their monthly friend, a fact which is of considerable concern to their busybody mother who listens more to parenting manuals than she does to her daughters.  Between their over-engaged mother and their disengaged father, they have made a pact with each other than they will either get the hell out of Nowheresville, Ontario ASAP, or come to a drastic end trying.  In a school filled with hollow mundanity, their escape and identity is rooted in their outsider status.  Ginger is the smart-mouthed and aggressive one who balks at attention from boys.  Brigette is the silently plotting brains of the team who not-so-secretly covet Ginger's strength.  Their roles and relationships to their family, school, classmates and each other are summed up neatly with a class photo project in which they depict themselves in a variety of possible suicide scenarios.

At the precise moment when Ginger first gets her period, one night in the park, she is attacked by some sort of feral beast that drags her into the woods.  Brigette helps her to flee, and the beast is hit by a van driven by the local dope dealer.  Previously inseparable, the changes that these events trigger in Ginger will become a growing wedge between them, in a way not dissimilar to the changes that all adolescents experience.  Except this one goes to eleven.

Suddenly Ginger becomes dramatically hormonal, sprouting hair where she never had it before (never mind that it's coarse and grey, growing from the bite marks on her shoulder) and the attention of boys is more than welcome.  Brigette, meanwhile, is desperate to both save her sister from the condition about which she has growing suspicions, and to keep Ginger from leaving her behind.

Getting right to the point; Ginger Snaps is my favorite werewolf movie, period (no pun intended).  Ginger and Brigette are strongly developed characters that would be enjoyable to watch no matter what the story vehicle.  I would watch them in any variation on the high school movie, whether or not there was a monster involved.  This is due not merely to the writing, but to the powerful performances from the film's two lead actresses; Katharine Isabelle (Ginger) and Emily Perkins (Brigette).

The first time I saw Ginger Snaps, I declared (to an empty room, but still out loud), "Oh THAT girl's gonna be a star" in reference to Isabelle.  Nevermind that she's beautiful.  She exudes the same kind of magnetic "cool to hang out with" appeal that has worked so successfully for Jennifer Lawrence.  Months after watching the Ginger Snaps films (more on that later), I was watching a movie called American Mary, and without realizing that I was watching the same actress, I declared to the empty room, "Oh SHE needs to get famous," only to realize once I jumped online that it was Katharine Isabelle again.  Purely in the interest of science, let me be clear, I had not made this declaration at any point in between, and I don't run around making it about every pretty face I see.  Isabelle plays Ginger with enthusiasm, making her antisocial behavior all the more appealing.  The humor and personality with which she fills Ginger overflows in such way that you realize it's bigger than the role.  She's certainly a working actress, but Hollywood hasn't yet given her the vehicle that would really put her into orbit.

Absolutely none of this raving is intended to take anything away from Emily Perkins.  It's certainly Ginger that steals the show, but it's Brigette that carries it.  While Isabelle is tasked with the slow-motion explosion of an adolescent girl coming unhinged as she turns into a werewolf, Perkins is the one that has to hold it all together while Brigette feels her world falling apart.  She really becomes the lone protagonist and draws us close to see how she has to become her own person in the face of this cataclysm.  The role calls for range, and Perkins delivers it.

Perhaps the biggest surprise is Mimi Rogers as the girls' mother.  Several of the most laugh-out-loud hilarious moments come from her highly satirized portrayal of suburban parenting.  When the girls end up with too much blood on their hands (literally), Mom steps up with a plan to rescue them.  She's just a mom that cares, you guys!

The third act is a high tension race against tragedy, and it's here that Perkins is most clearly called upon to carry the film.  Once Ginger fully transforms, it's Brigette that we connect with and root for.  This does, however, bring up one of the less satisfying aspect of the film.  The final werewolf isn't all that we might have hoped for.  I'm not faulting the director for choosing to go the practical effects route, but the final wolf form looks kind of diseased and mutanty with wispy hair and wet, soggy flesh like a drowned and bloated molerat.  I'd be more concerned about it touching me than biting me.  Fortunately, the film isn't reliant on giving the werewolf a lot of screen time.

My only other complaint is a selfish one.  The funny parts are so funny and the sisters so personally appealing that I wanted more.  The blessing there is that Ginger Snaps attained enough cultish success to inspire a duet of sequels.  For more about those, come back tomorrow!