Ebert’s Not the Only Idiot

I don’t know why I torture myself like this, but lately I’ve been reading a lot of film reviews online. I’ve also been reading a lot of scholarly-like film criticism, which is a whole different beast. Even though I didn’t end up agreeing with a lot of what Robin Wood said in his book (Hollywood from Vietnam to Reagan), he was at least critically engaged with the material. He took what other, more popular critics wrote into account, and then actually took the time to think it all through and formulate his own theories on separate genres/works/directors. Besides Jonathan Rosenbaum, I can’t think of any popular film critic writing today that comes close to this kind of writing – at least consistently.

Part of that is the nature of the beast, and I get that. Obviously Wood had a little bit more time planning out and re-editing the articles for his book, whereas a film critic generally has to write her review the next day or sooner. It’s a hard job, especially when you’re in the film festival environment, seeing five or six movies a day. So my complaint is more along the lines of…what’s the point? Most of us already know what we’re going to like anyway…I mean, are our choices of which films to go see really dictated by what the critics are saying about a specific film, or are we just going to go see Transformers 2 because we like big, awesome robots? And then, if we’re inclined to read the reviews after watching the movie, is this just a way to validate our own opinions that we’ve already started to form? Cement them in our minds so we can be closed off to any alternative criticism? Convince us that Inglourious Basterds was, indeed, “boring” and we can just throw it away like every other piece of pointless entertainment?

There were a few articles I read lately that inspired an even deeper hatred of popular film reviews than I already had. Ebert’s review of A Clockwork Orange has to be one of the worst pieces of criticism I’ve read. At least it’s the worst piece from someone who is considered respectable. (He is considered that, right? He has a lot of books…) In summary, Ebert feels that A Clockwork Orange is a “right-wing film” that “celebrates violence”  by claiming that the “hero,” whom “Kubrick likes very much” and thinks is “normal,” is not created by a violent society but is created by a violent society where he might as well be violent, too. What an idiot. The guy doesn’t even take the time and energy to think into some of the imagery Kubrick has put into his film, and instead passes it off as “cute” and “cheap.” The only pseudo-analysis he is willing to go into completely ignores content in favor of form. Not that any of this matters, because in the end the most important thing to Ebert is that the movie was “boring.”

“Boring” is a word that keeps cropping up in every negative review I read lately. This has especially annoyed me in reference to Antichrist. Now, I haven’t seen the movie, but can graphic sex, violence, and a full-on vagina shot really be considered “boring”? Ok, maybe it can, but in a Von Trier movie??? Maybe we should reevaluate the use of the word! 

It’s the quickness and stubbornness of the opinions in popular film criticism that is really ridiculous. Why must we be so unwavering in our opinions on what can always be complicated works of art? Yes, some of that art is shit, but isn’t it always saying something? Someone put a lot of time into that shit, maybe we shouldn’t bash it/praise it so quickly in a three-hundred word review.

That said, I do it all the time. On this blog, on Facebook, and especially when I’m writing for Film Threat. Being outraged or overjoyed is fun. I’m about to write a really engaging review of The Final Destination in 3D, so who am I to judge?

Glourious Terds

I’m struggling with Inglourious Basterds. I have a feeling that it’s a lot smarter and a a lot dumber than I’m willing to admit right now. There are problems with pacing – as many have pointed out. There are caricatures that become uncomfortable in their unevenness. It is certainly sadistic and immoral and all that other stuff Tarantino fans (I count myself among these) thirst for, but it’s also less snarky, less smart-ass, less film-school than any of his other films (with the awful scene involving Mike Myers being an exception). For the most part, I tend to lean towards films that are a little more honest and sincere in their style. (Kill Bill Vol. II was a far better film, in my opinion, than Vol. I for this reason.) But there is also something about the glossy violence of a Tarantino film that gets to me. The sound, for example, in Inglourious Basterds is superb. And you know me: I’m not one to use the term “superb” lightly. But there are so many mistakes in such a careful movie. I just don’t get it, yet.

So this one’s going to take me a while to hash out. Right now all I can do is respond to the polarizing reviews coming out from all the biggest sources. Ebert’s madly in love (he better be after his initial embarrassing rejection of Pulp Fiction, right?) and Armond White, as usual, is upset. The most intelligent review I’ve come across so far is Karina Longworth’s at Spout. I think she’s generally understated and incredibly smart about movies, but here she admits to something few critics are willing to do: changing her mind. After writing for Film Threat thinking no one read it, then getting feedback on some of my reviews, I wish I could go back and change some things I wrote every once in a while. Luckily we get far fewer hits here and I can say whatever the fuck I want. Hurray!

In that vein, there is something I would like to point out. For those complaining about Inglourious Basterds being “Jewish revenge porn” I would point you in the direction of the Dirty Harry films, Vigilante, Death Wish, and even The Brave One. We have a lot of Caucasian revenge porn; can’t we even the score a little? It’s crazy to me that the same critics are complaining about the brutality of the film and the boring action-devoid scenes.There’s also the debate of who had the “good” caricatured performances and who had the bad ones. I’ll solve that issue right here: Mike Myers was atrocious, Brad Pitt was funny, and Eli Roth was totally neutral – like all the other barely-seen Basterds. So I hope that eases everyone’s mind a bit. Not that it really matters at all.

Anyway, this is a little stream of consciousness. More on this one later, I hope.

i think it’s called hyper-real

one of my friends (who, for the purpose of protecting his identity, i will call choi) saw bruno yesterday and claimed it was “the most offensive movie [he's] ever seen”.  this didnt surprise me.  what did surprise me was that he didnt love the movie.

some background:

i’ve seen a lot of movies/tv with choi over the years.  if i could reduce his aesthetic tastes to a single formula, it would be something like offensive = good.

examples:

(1) he laughs uncontrollably at those commercials where they show pictures of abused dogs;

(2) the night i became a mel gibson fan was the night choi and i watched apocalyptico and laughed the whole way through;

(3) he thinks videodrome is a comedy (and he’s right);

(4) choi claims his favorite movie is rambo iv precisely because of all the senseless violence.

i could go on and on but, due to the evidence already submitted, i feel like i should expand my earlier formula to (movies/tv most people find disturbing or) offensive = (movies/tv choi thinks are ) good.  however, it turns out my hypothesized formula is wrong since bruno is (a movie that most people find extremely) offensive and choi hated it.

(but that’s the scientific method — one experiment can falsify your entire theory and you’re left believing in nothing.)

i saw bruno two weeks ago and have been thinking about it ever since.  i too found it incredibly offensive (not to mention incredibly funny), but two weeks later have come to the conclusion that i think it’s a good movie.  in fact, i would say it’s the best new movie i’ve seen this year (which actually isn’t saying much since the second best movie i’ve seen this year is the new harry potter).

while most will compare bruno to borat, i find a better comparison in pink flamingos.  both are movies that are meant to shock and offend you, the viewer.   it’s all unbelievably uncomfortable and gross and you can’t help but feel a certain sickness while watching either film.  in other words, these films aggressively attack you.  (related: it’s interesting how the lines between war and cinema are blurred.  i mean, they dont call it shooting for nothing.)  both movies forcefully offend you while also forcing you to work out precisely why these films are offensive.

but maybe borat is a good reference point to bruno.  like bruno could be a correction to borat.  in borat, we (us liberal, tolerant film viewers) can safely laugh at the rest of america for their intolerance, ignorance and bigotry, but bruno exposes the same kinds of intolerance in us.  for instance, how can i feel justified in (morally) condemning the woman who doesn’t have a problem with her baby dressing up like hitler for money while also condemning those wrestling fans for nearly dying when bruno starts making out with his partner in the ring?  how is my deeply held belief (that it’s wrong to exploit children in that way) right while claiming that someone else’s deeply held belief (that homosexuality is wrong) is wrong?  try coming up with a hypothesis for that that isn’t falsified within a week.

(i know this leads to a kind of moral relativism which comes with it’s own set of unavoidable problems, but, seriously, is there a way out of this?)

i also liked the way bruno blurs the lines between the real and fake.  and i’m not talking about how all documentaries are fake, but rather that this movie present completely fake and forced situations that illicit real response (precisely because the people responding don’t know it’s fake).  more importantly, since there is a camera present while the responses occur, might that then turn those real responses into, on some level, a performance?  and then, what’s the difference between bruno’s performance and the performance of those he interacts with?

the funniest part, imo, is the 6 teaser in bruno’s tv show that lead up to his one-second interview with harrison ford.

District 9

Here, again, we have a movie that everyone is raving about. There are certainly some interesting things going on with District 9. A sci-fi horror film with social commentary beyond the reactionary politics of the Reagan 80s is always nice. Sure, the themes of racial injustice have been explored before in this genre, but never with as much tension as a South African setting can provide. But, I found these explorations in District 9 to be surface level, almost offensively so at times, and disturbingly…racist. 

I’m going to give away a lot in this review. You should know that up front since this is one of those movies appealingly surrounded in mystery. In order to really look at the hidden agenda in this movie, though, it’s important to know some of the key plot twists.

So here’s the basic premise: aliens have landed in Johannesburg, the humans “take care” of them by putting them into refuge camps of sorts and basically start to kill them off through starvation and forced sterilization. In the midst of a relocation program, our “hero,” Wickus Van De Merwe, is sprayed with an alien fuel and starts to get sick. Before we know it, Wickus is turning into an alien and being used for secret government weaponry programs. The only being willing to help him is an alien named Christopher. They must battle government agencies, Nigerian witch doctors, and crazed father-in-laws in order to get Christopher back on his mother ship and headed to his home planet, with the hopes that he will someday return and be able to turn Wickus back into a human.

Wow. That kind of sounds stupid when you spell it all out. Sounds a lot like a summer blockbuster, actually, and after talking this one over with my husband Scott, I’m thinking District 9 isn’t really that much above the rest of the action movies you’ll be watching this year.

I’m reading Hollywood from Vietnam to Reagan right now and I really like the way Robin Wood just lays the social/political problems with movies out there in bullet point style. So instead of trying to form a cohesive argument, that’s what I’m going to do here:

1. The Nigerians – probably the most blaringly obvious problem with the film, though I have yet to read an intelligent reviewer that brings them up at all, unless it’s Armond White, who everyone thinks is bonkers. But doesn’t anyone think it’s weird that in a movie preaching against racial injustice there is a whole group of people characterized by their barbaric culture? There are no “good” Nigerians represented in the film. They are all gun-toting cannibals that want to take advantage of a bad situation. Not a single redeemable one in the bunch. How does that make any sense, and why is it being ignored?

2. Culture hijacking – When Wikus starts to turn into an alien, it’s not just his body that begins to turn. He is suddenly able to use alien technology. Now, either the alien technology that is presented as complicated is actually simple enough to operate based on instincts alone, or being an alien is completely wrapped up in DNA. I’m not talking about the weapons that merely require a pull of the trigger. I’m talking about the alien spaceship and body armor that Wikus is suddenly able to operate with extreme skill. Wikus doesn’t really need Christopher The Alien’s help, and he proves this when he betrays Christopher and takes off in the spaceship alone. Wikus is immediately accepted into the alien culture and immediately fits in because their culture seems to be based on genetics alone. The only thing separating them from us is their blood? Is it really that simple? No nurture, only nature? Doesn’t that seem really primitive? Really simple and unexamined? It matches the way Christopher’s character is developed: not at all. We at first think he is making a terrorist effort to make everyone look the same by turning them all into aliens, we then find out that he’s actually just collecting fuel to get home. He doesn’t have a significant dark side. He cares about his son and he wants to get home and that’s really all we get from Christopher. Borrrrring. But I guess with such a simple culture, you can’t really get too deep.

3. Because of this supposed simplicity of the alines, it seems the most appropriate emotion is pity. Despite having superior weaponry, there isn’t any real rebellion on the part of the aliens. They tear apart their own neighborhoods, but never stand up to The Nigerians or the South Africans that have put them into this predicament. The reason, we are left to assume, is their naivite, an attitude that is particularly dangerous to this issue. And also culturally inaccurate! During apartheid South Africans weren’t all so totally passive, obviously, or there would still be apartheid!

There were things I liked about the movie. I liked that there were few characters to relate to in a positive way. Everyone is implicated in the racism of the film, including and especially Wikus who laughs as babies are being burned and, even until the very last frame of the film, seems to be acting selfishly. This was a powerful statement in a film so politically charged. If only they had made those kinds of character inquiries into Christopher and his son.

Am I being too picky? Like I said, I really appreciate the fact that there is some sci-fi out there this year that makes me think. There are just things about this movie that I think make it almost more dangerous than a movie that is more blatant. The again, maybe it’s just an imperfect movie with some pure intentions. I don’t know.

She’s Right; White Males Probably Aren’t as Great As Everyone Always Says

In honor of Judge Sonia Sotomayor being approved for the supreme court, I give you my top five favorite courtroom films:

Awww! Look how earnest!

5. A Few Good Men – Demi Who? Jack Who? That one ugly guy Who? This star-studded cast (also including Noah Wyle, Christopher Guest, Keifer Sutherland, and Kevin Bacon) would mean nothing to me if it wasn’t for Mr. Tom Cruise. And since this is my favorite court room movies and not the best, I feel a Tom Cruise appearance is in order. There was nothing better at 12-years-old than watching my 30-something-year-old Tom spit in ferocity. Corrupt military, foreign invasions, machismo, blahblahblah, all I cared about were those cute little outfits, and the pay-off was gorgeous.

4. Anatomy of a Murder – The first film under the code to use the term “panties.” Awesome. (and according to IMDB “rape,” “bitch,” “penetration,” “contraceptive,” “sperm,” and “slut.” Many of which words you still can’t say in public school!) Otto Preminger was good at getting away with stuff, and in 1959, as the glory days of the code were winding down, he was able to get away with even more. The result is a fairly honest, bare look at the US judicial system. Here Jimmy Stewart isn’t exactly the innocent little cutie of Mr. Smith Goes to Washington. Airing everyone’s dirty laundry for the sake of winning a case, even Stewart’s dad condemned the film as naughty.

3. Close-Up – Abbas Kiarostami’s Close-Up is a film way ahead of its time. Shot in 1990, the film centers around the true story of a man who pretended to be the famous Iraqi director Mohsen Makhmalbaf in order to make friends with a family he meets. Kiarostami cast all of the people originally involved in the case and had them reenact their parts in the case and subsequent trial. Using non-actors and setting up various scenarios causes you to wonder what is actually a reenactment, what is scripted, and what is “real.” What levels of manipulation do we see here, meaning manipulation of the audience and the people involved? To what effect? This movie still has me thinking, at least five years after I saw it for the first time. Kiarostami’s films are all wrapped up in layers of reality, and they are all fantastic.

2. Judgement at Nuremberg – For those uninterested in reading Hannah Arendt’s Eichmann in Jerusalem, there is the only slightly shorter Judgement at Nuremberg. Another courtroom film that stars everyone, this film has the opposite effect of A Few Good Men, and masks every star in a more important issue. (Though you can’t keep Richard Widmark down as he shines above the rest.) The film deals with all the ethics a good courtroom drama should focus on: justice, freedom, patriotism, and humanism. What I liked about this one is it takes it’s time. The trial is presented slowly and completely, leaving room for drawn-out (though perhaps over-scripted) testimonies. I think it deserves the respect it’s gotten.

1. Adam’s Rib – This is my favorite Katherine Hepburn movie. It’s so funny, and every piece of hilarious dialogue is delivered in quick passing – true to Hepburn’s classic style. Plus, I just found out it was written by Ruth Gordon! I don’t even know what to say about this movie…there’s nothing to criticize. It’s too funny.

If this photo doesn't do it for you, I don't know what will.

Some runner ups that I finally decided don’t exactly qualify as courtroom films: The Devil and Daniel Webster, Angel Face, The Passion of Joan of Arc. Also, with the release of District 9 and Scott’s recent obsession with “Alien Nation,” I have decided that I want so see an alien-on-trial movie.

The Hurt Locker

The Hurt Locker is so good. I know you have probably all heard that a million times by now. “It’s the Best Film About the Iraq War,” “easily the Best War Film of the Last Decade,” “I Wet My Pants it was so Fucking Good,” but I really can’t stress this enough: it is so good.

A lot of people are saying that it’s such a great movie about Iraq because it withholds judgments about the war. I think this is partially true. Meaning, it’s no Jarhead. It’s not trying to hit you over the head with it’s political philosophies (no “we’re still in the desert” lines here), but it’s also not devoid of political statements. Specifically, The Hurt Locker doesn’t really comment on the reason we’re in Iraq, George Bush, WMD, etc., it does, however, present a state of warfare that is specific to Iraq. Did soldiers in WWII use the term “body bomb” so freely? Probably not. Most poignant to the film is the way it naturally shows the making of a soldier. War sucks…most every war film manages to point that out…but not every war film can convincingly construct characters that we can believe are real soldiers.

Not that every soldier in the film is by-the-book. The rare criticisms toward the film so far have pointed out that no one would get away with being as reckless as Sgt. James. This is where Kathryn Bigelow’s influence comes in. Because, really, this movie is kind of out of left field for her. She’s always good at action movies, but usually they’re more in line with, like, Keanu Reeves catching some sweet waves (like, “Vaya con Dios, brah”). Here she still sticks her some action-packed, stressful moments, but she strings them together in a way that seems almost monotonous. 

What’s crazier about Sgt. James’s situation than his extra-curricular meetings, is that he’s not the one required to seek psychological help. Specialist Eldridge sees a friend die and has to go into counseling. He comes across as a coward – not wanting to shoot people, worried about getting shot, etc. Any of us in the same situation should understand Eldridge’s motivations much better than James’s, but James is valued as a perfect solider while Eldridge is perceived as a weakling. It’s almost a relief when Eldridge is shipped out early….whew, we don’t have to worry about his sissy ass anymore.

This is one of the most openly nihilistic films I’ve seen in recent years. An overarching theme is that there is no meaning in war. Everything these men go through feels totally pointless. Not because it’s Iraq, but because it’s chaos. James gets worked up, thinking he has experienced a profound moment when a boy he has become close to is found dead. Finally he can feel emotion. But when it turns out to be a different boy, not the one James knows, even his emotion is meaningless. He is still unable to love anything but war itself. When James comes home and realizes he can’t even love his son anymore, you realize that the meaninglessness of war has extended into every day life. Lives are being sacrificed daily for political causes, and there is no meaning to any of it. Even the characters that we immediately attach meaning to – stars like Guy Pearce and Ralph Fiennes that show up for mere minutes in the film – are struck down without any warning. War is indiscriminate in its meaninglessness.

The Hurt Locker is one of those films that I respected so much I get angry at those that disagree with me. I read their reviews and think they’re the biggest idiots. Of course, I didn’t like A History of Violence when I first saw it, so I understand their mistake…but they are mistaken.

It’s Called the Christian “Right” for a Reason, You Know

Due to extreme anxieties surrounding pregnancy, I didn’t go see Lake of Fire when it was in theatres. The gore wasn’t the problem. I frequently research gynecological procedures and information, feeling I might have missed out on my true professional calling due to laziness. So I had seen an abortion performed before – though the late-term abortion was new to me. No…to avoid being overly dramatic, let’s just say that I got physically ill in the middle of Waitress. 

Anyway, they upped my medication and now I’m A-OK to watch all the pregnancy footage I want. So I finally delved into the almost-3-hour documentary about one of the most fascinating ethical discussions out there. And I wasn’t disappointed. What a remarkably shot and well-conceived film. And though I’m sure the film leans a little to the Left, both sides are presented fairly. Nothing has made me question my pro-choice beliefs so thoroughly. 

At the same time, the film is infuriating. Bombing abortion clinics, killing doctors and nurses, stalking people at their homes, and just the horrid things fundamentalists tend to scream…it’s a bit much to handle. On top of all that, there’s the general unfairness of the female reproductive system to grapple with. Do the women in those Christian Fundamentalist groups ever feel that sense of unfairness? Maybe they just believe in Eve and original sin? Or maybe they really think motherhood is a blessing? Ok…maybe motherhood is a blessing of sorts, but so is fatherhood and even the most responsible among them really don’t have much to worry about when it comes to pregnancy. (<—MAN HATER!) What if someone were to have an abortion just because they were bad with pain and would prefer to adopt? Doesn’t that seem like as good a reason as any? These fundamentalists be crazy.

By the way, every image that came up when I googled "angry lesbian man hater" were pictures of Hilary or Rosie O'Donnell.

Ok. So I lied. They didn’t up my medication.

Did I ever tell you about the time I gave a command performance for Hitler?

Or: What a joy! It’s M-G-M’s Technicolor musical!

An American in Paris might be the perfect example of what I was talking about yesterday. Here’s a movie that’s doing some really cool things, but it seems totally benign because of the ending and the format. 

 

Leslie Caron in her first, and cutest, film appearance.

Jerry Mulligan is a starving artist in Montmartre. He’s got some talent and a few good buddies, but mostly he just has a good time walking around the streets of Paris and entertaining children with his spontaneous outbursts of tap dancing. He’s all happy-go-lucky until he meets the women in his life: Milo Roberts, a wealthy British ex-Pat, wants to “sponsor him as an artist” (bone him); and Lise Bouvier, probably the cutest musical star ever, whom he falls in love with. By being a total jackass to Milo, and being a romantic sweetheart to Lise, Jerry somehow seems to get everything he wants in the end.

 

Seems fairly conventional. Jerry man be an artist, but he’s still a man. He is very uncomfortable with Milo paying his way all the time. A sentiment his concert pianist friend tends to drive home ad nauseam. That’s not to say he isn’t going to go along with the whole thing, with the promise that he will soon pay her back. However, like I said in my last post, this radical behavior in musicals tends to go unpunished. No, Milo does not end up getting exactly what she wants (Jerry) but she also isn’t left high and dry in the end. By being “manly,” she has secured a partnership with a promising young artist who only seems to be getting better through her encouragement. Likewise, she doesn’t seem that broken up about the whole thing in the end. Earlier in the film one of her friends warns her against getting involved with yet another young artist, but we can assume that she will go right back to the hunt once she realizes that Jerry is now spoken for. I liked Milo. And, for once, I don’t think I’m going against the grain here. She’s a very likable character. Well fleshed-out: emotional and professional at the same time. Just the fact that a bargain-driving, professional woman is to be admired in a 1950s film is a step in the right direction.

But it was Jerry Mulligan (Gene Kelly) in which I was most interested. Gene Kelly made the ladies swoon. Probably still does. (As a side note, my dad once told us that everyone used to say he looked just like Gene Kelly. Proving his confidence, maybe. I think he was more of a young Bruce Springsteen, but now he looks more like Tony Soprano.) And he knew how to use that swooning power to his advantage. Dressed in form fitting clothing that highlight his forearms and butt just right, performing for the cute little children, and even shot for glamour now and then, Kelly is not exactly the manly men of, say, Paint Your Wagon. Instead, his character is not afraid to daydream, fall in love hard, and bend to a kiss his girl initiates. I ask you, is there anything more emasculating than shimming around in a Toulouse-Lautrec painting wearing an all-yellow skin-tight outfit (and don’t forget the beret)? 

What’s great is that going to see a Gene Kelly movie would have nothing to do with any of the political/gender implications that these characterizations imply. Suddenly, in the bizarro world of the musical, it’s okay for men to cry and women to wield their power to get what they want. None of this gender-bending is a threat. It’s merely all wrapped up in the isolated fantasy world of the musical: where no one ever takes off their tap shoes.

 

Gene Kelly gets to wear the prettiest outfits.

Yes, Jerry ends up with Lise in the end and everything is very heterosexual. But he’s still wearing a ridiculous outfit, dressed up for the ball, and we haven’t forgotten the Gene Kelly as presented in the rest of the film.

Cabaret and the Anarchy of The Musical

Last week I watched Cabaret and was pleasantly surprised. Yes, Liza Minnelli is hard to look at, but her dance moves (choreographed by Bob Fosse) more than made up for that. And, I ask you, who could more convincingly turn Michael York straight?

So, here is the story of a wanna-be actress living in Berlin in 1930 and working for a swinging night club full of crazy, gender-bending antics. She meets a Gay, wants to bone him, gets rejected, shit happens, they bone. As a couple, they seem to work out great. They are both very forgiving of each other’s foibles (one’s a gay, one’s a slut) and they even sleep with the same man with only minor conflict! Eventually, Liza becomes pregnant, and fooling herself into thinking she could live the domestic life, she and Michael decide to get married. It’s not clear who the father of the baby is, but they both seem excited about settling down until…abortion. Who’s she fooling? She would never be happy settling down and being “just” a mother/wife in some podunk town; Liza has dreams, and she’s going to follow up on them. At the end of the movie, Michael’s studies in Berlin are over and he leaves for England, parting amiably with Liza who will, presumably until the Nazis ruin everything, continue pursuing her acting career.

Musicals seem to be a hotbed of social upheaval. What is it about the genre that allows this kind of gender-bending, homosexual-loving free-for-all? Is it the idea that if characters can randomly burst into song, they should be able to do other equally absurd things like…dress like men when they clearly have boobies, or be happy and successful sex workers, or fuck two men at the same time without remorse? 

What was nice about Cabaret, as compared to other musicals, is its unconventional ending. Many musicals challenge social norms until the last scene, when everything settles down into proper heterosexual unions. Take, for example, one of my favorite musicals: Paint Your Wagon. Lee Marvin, Jean Seaberg, and Clint Eastwood aren’t exactly a threesome, they’re more of a happy polyandrous union. What other genre can you find something so upsetting to the patriarchy than two dudes willing to take sexual commands from one woman? But, of course, everything evens out in the end, when Lee Marvin decides to leave the two young people alone together. Even a movie as culturally upsetting as The Rocky Horror Picture Show will manage to “right” all of its “wrongs” by the time the credits role.

The theorist Rick Altman talks about this a lot in his studies of musicals. He has pointed out that musicals seem to be open to reversing gender roles and even appearances (cross-dressing, transgenderism, etc), but in the end their moral compasses always seem to point Right. I’m not sure this entirely erases every social upset the films employ, however, as the reversals of gender roles earlier in the films aren’t usually punished. In Paint Your Wagon, for example, the film can end with a heterosexual union only because of their previous polyandry. Without setting up this unusual threesome, Jean and Clint would have never been left so freely to fall in love without angering Lee.

Regardless, it is nice to see a musical that sticks with its guns and remains morally outrageous throughout. Cabaret includes a successful heterosexual wedding, but only between the characters we hardly care about – the ones that bore us. Despite her funny hair and giant teeth, it’s Liza we side with, and we rejoice when she decides to continue with what she thinks is important. It is a triumphant ending. She didn’t give in to society by doing such a boring thing as get married, she is going to move on with her own life. Cabaret allows women to be selfish in ways that are approved by the film. That’s so rare. 

Too bad the Nazis had to be such little bitches.

Double Feature Friday

This last weekend my kid brother came up to stay at Casa Borknopf (aka: The Knorup House). In addition to playing hours of Halo, consuming jugs of lemonade, and setting Scott’s work uniform on fire, we also found time to do one of my favorite things: watch an ungodly number of movies. Among those was a double feature of Something Wicked This Way Comes and The Watcher in the Woods. Lately, everything I’ve wanted to watch are horror movies. My brother’s not that into anything overly frightening or bloody, so I thought it might be nice to visit the films that freaked our mom out, but are still very Disney.

Something Wicked This Way Comes was not bad. Slightly scary and very fanciful, I think both of us enjoyed watching this one. However, it wasn’t even near as good as it could have been. With Ray Bradbury originally intending the story as a film, and then adapting his own work, there are elements of creepiness snuck into the movie that are finally overrode by the Disney machine. IMDB reports that there was an original score that was much darker, longer animation bits they deemed too hokey, and Sam motherfucking Peckinpah originally wanted to direct it! According to Bradbury, Disney bypassed many of his original intentions for the project by making it much more kid-friendly. To be fair, test screenings didn’t go well, and Disney – like any studio – had to make its money back, but the film was a failure anyway. Better to be a totally rad failure with a mechanical hand attack, I think.

Jonathan Pryce saved the movie for me. Any time something dipped into hokeyness  (the bad kind) or moral lessons, Pryce brought it back to the level of creepy I think Bradbury could be proud of. As the demon carnival owner Mr. Dark, Pryce’s steady stare and fierce voice could haunt a child’s dreams. I hope he haunts my brother’s.

Now, The Watcher in the Woods is an entirely different story. What a load of shit. 

I think I’m predisposed to hate this one because of everything I’ve heard about it growing up. From a very young age, every Halloween was spent trying to convince my friends and I that we should watch The Watcher in the Woods: “The Scariest Movie with a PG Rating Ever Made.” But – luckily – we were unconvinced and usually just watched episodes of X-files instead. Growing up Mormon, PG Horror was far more popular at a far later age than it ever should have been. So while I was watching Halloween for the first time, my adult friends were still watching The Watcher in the Woods and claiming it to be “very scary” and “very dark.”

Fine. I watched it. 

I have nothing against PG Horror. I enjoy the Hitchcock movies without boobs, sometimes even more than the Hitchcock movies with boobs! And I’m a huge fan of Ernest Scared Stupid. But even a kid as young as my brother sees past the horrible acting, silly gimmicks, and utter stupidity of this one.

But, Bette Davis was great as a white, female Al Sharpton (joking aside, she was really good. More enjoyable than a lot of her older films, when I find her just plain annoying). 

 

I wish I could find a better shot of her hair. It was amazing.

 

What was semi-successful about this Friday night was the combo. Pairing these two films up was a good choice (though I wish I would have seen Watcher before Wicked). But, it was also the obvious choice. “Two Disney Horror Movies our Parents were Afraid of” is a little narrow a topic for a good double feature. I’ll try to be a little more creative for next time.