* * *
General, C-95m, USA.
D: Paul Wendkos. Sandra Dee, James Darren, Cliff Robertson, Arthur O’Connell, Yvonne Craig, The Four Preps.
Tagline: Watch out Brigitte...here comes Gidget!
This is basically a corny coming-of-age story, with a look at the social mores of the Eisenhower era. It’s fun, silly, innocent, and the best of the “Gidget” movies, bar none. I couldn’t bear to sit through those, even for a few minutes. Yet I love this movie for its kitchiness - it's like looking at old photographs and smiling at the silly hairdos, and thinking, "Wow, we looked so dorky. Wonder what the old gang is doing now?"
It’s the summer of ’59 and Francie Lawrence (an annoyingly perky Sandra Dee) is sixteen, petite, as one character puts, "practically pushing seventeen!" She’s an only child, doted on by her well-to-do parents Russell and Dorothy (Arthur Kennedy and Mary La Roche). Her friends (including one ambiguous female nicknamed "B.L." (for Betty Louise) and Yvonne "Batgirl" Craig) are all boy-crazy and she reluctantly lets herself get dragged on a ‘man hunt’.
“She just has to make it this summer!” one girl squeals.
"Oh, poor Francie. Back to senior year with nothing to show for it!” The girlfriends pose and preen on the sand, waiting for the guys to notice them. Francie keeps 'ruining the picture', whatever that means. She has no figure to speak of, which is a running joke.
The male surfers don’t want a girl around. “This beach is for surfers only, not dames.”
"Oh, I’m not a dame…” she protests.
Rather alarmingly, they cluster around her. “Well, it has all the earmarks of a dame.”
One leers at her flat chest, “Those aren’t ears.” Ugh.
The manhunt is declared a 'dry run'. “Say, let’s go to Santa Barbara, but without the papoose in tow.”
She realizes that her presence is unwanted and opts to go swimming on her own instead of continuing the manhunt.
“Francie, you’ve always been part of a foursome!” Patti, one of her friends reproaches in a half-hearted attempt to include her. “You’ll be an outcast, out in the cold!”
"It's already happened, Patti. I just don't fit in anymore."
I really detested her so-called 'friends'. They’re catty, shallow, and just plain horrible. I know they’re only characters, but I get the feeling that there is some basis in reality for this portrayal, given the time they’re living in. We've all met the kind of women they grow up to become.
Despite her declaration that she's a 'real good swimmer', Francie nearly drowns twice and has to be rescued by Moondoggie, one of the surfers. As he guides them back to the beach on his surfboard, they encounter a big wave and the thrill makes her forget that she almost drowned. As most of us know, he will be her first love and have to suffer through four bad sequels and a TV series and Gidget will be a different girl every time. The poor guy starts with Sandra Dee and somehow finds himself with Deborah Whalley and Sally Field before she became a flying nun. After the rescue, she meets the guys who jeered at her earlier: Hot Shot, Stinky, Loverboy, Waikiki, Lord Byron. The leader, dubbed the Big Kahuna (Hawaiian for 'chief'), is a good-looking older guy in his thirties. They're wholesome beach bum types, though hoodlums by Eisenhower standards, meaning those of Francie's stuffy father.
Her love interest, Moondoggie (James Darren) is a wannabe, a trust fund brat who ditches college because, in his words, he can’t measure up to the old man. His man-crush on Kahuna is pretty laughable, though I suppose the latter is supposed to be a father figure – one who doesn’t make demands.
Bitten by the surfing bug, Francie begs for early birthday money to buy a used board and then devotes herself to learning the sport. The guys nickname her ‘Gidget’ (meaning ‘girl midget) and she becomes their mascot. The ‘initiation’ is pretty rough: Moondoggie, though somewhat nicer to her than the others, nearly drowns the poor kid, shoving her head underwater to cut kelp. It’s a very sadistic scene. She barely has time to gulp some air before he forces her head down again. I felt sick watching it. Through a few surfy misadventures, Moondoggie develops protective feelings toward her, much against his will. When he begins to acknowledge his feelings, it's patronizing. "A girl like you is a lot of responsibility." I felt like saying, "Gee whiz. Like a puppy?"
Eventually, Gidget practices on her own and learns the Ways of the Surfer. "Surfing is out of this world. You can't imagine the thrill of the shooting the curl. It positively surpasses every living emotion I've ever had!" It's this enthusiasm that makes this kid sparkle. The only character to treat her with some respect is Kahuna (Cliff Robertson), meaning he doesn’t make fun of her like the others. The other guys worship him, especially Moondoggie, who constantly says things like, “We’re two of a kind, the Kahuna and me!” Yep, total man-crush.
Later we discover that Kahuna isn’t what he seems, and in bid to make Moondoggie jealous, Gidget gets in way over her head when Kahuna almost forgets that “it’s just a game.” In some ways, he’s the most interesting character in the movie. He’s not a bad man, but a weary one. He enjoys his position as alpha dog to a point, but knows that at the end of the summer, he’ll have to move on to the next beach or grow up. Part of the burden is the gang’s adulation – how does a guy live up to his own reputation when it’s not who he is? Or wants to be? Gidget gets him thinking, which echoes the words of her grandmother’s sampler: A real woman brings out the best in a man. Old-fashioned, but in some ways true. It could apply to anyone. Why not replace ‘woman’ with ‘parent’ and ‘man’ with ‘child’? I’m sure there are other variations of someone bringing out the best in another person. Still, too bad Kahuna was too old for her. I’d take him over everyone else in this movie.
Her mother is a good listener, though her advice is definitely geared to steer Gidget on the road to happy housewife. Mary La Roche gives a sly performance, giving the 50’s Mom role more spin than another actress would. She’s understanding and supportive, without being a blankly smiling Stepford wife. Arthur Kennedy (also in 1955’s Picnic) is a doting, but clueless father who needs his wife to calm him down during Gidget’s antics. He just wants his daughter to date the ‘right kind of boy’ – hence his constant hints of fixing her up with the dull son of a colleague. When Gidget eagerly tells her about the ‘crew’ and Moondoggie, Mom fishes gently, “And is he the one you like best?”
Poor Gidget just isn’t ready to date, despite a dubious ‘happy ending’. Her ‘coming-of-age’ is forced upon her through shunning (by her girlfriends) and gentle pressure from her well-meaning parents, leading to her desperation to be accepted before senior year. Kids develop at different rates, and I don't believe anyone should be pushed into adult situations, no matter how old they are physically. If they're emotionally fragile, the results could be disastrous.
But this sunny film has its dark side, which is unusual for films of this genre and time. At first glance, it's a silly beach party film like the ones Annette Funicello and Frankie Avalon used to frolic in, but the subtext beneath the insipid dialogue shows what Hollywood wanted society to be. Feminism was barely existent in films, but some tried. And probably got rewritten in order to force a 'happy ending', in case some impressionable young girl got "ideas" and strayed from the path of wife and motherhood. And make sure that those crazy kids didn't find living on the beach too attractive. Otherwise, they might quit school, tear up their rich daddy's cheque of $150.00, and call themselves "Moondoggie". Oh, those hooligans...
Everyone treats her like crap; even her own parents insult her. Russell, her father, watching Francie approach the house in her soggy bathing gear, asks doubtfully, “That’s a ‘manhunter’?”
Dorothy, her mother retorts, “What did you expect? Kim Novak?”
Francie: Gee, thanks, Mom and Dad. Love you, too. By the way, why don't you take a look at these brochures? These places have the cutest names, don't you think? Sunnyrest, Shady Oaks, Sunset Manor...
Gidget and 1986's Dirty Dancing are so similar that I wonder if the former inspired the other. Both feature gawky young girls coming of age, learning to surf and dance, respectively. Their names are similar (Francie "Gidget" Lawrence and Frances "Baby" Houseman). They're both denied access to groups (because of Gidget's immaturity and Baby's social position). Only Gidget doesn't have Patrick Swayzie to back her up when she gets put in the corner. The novel by Frederick Kohner is a better, more thoughtful story. Based on the real-life adventures of his teenaged daughter and embellished for dramatic purposes, the novel was described as a "Catcher in the Rye for girls". I read it, and was surprised to find that it wasn’t far off the mark. The novel - originally entitled, Gidget, the Little Girl with Big Ideas - is more realistic, and I found her teenage slang both quaint and charming. I love the beatnik lingo: "Creamy!" (for wonderful) and lines like, "Pretend you're real gone over me. Gimme the mad rush." Man, I wish I could say stuff like that without getting a blank stare.
I also prefer the way she handled being fought over by two guys in the book. Instead of sticking around to see who ‘wins’ her (like most movies are wont to do), she grabs her board and shoots the curl, ignoring everyone’s shouts, completely absorbed in the perfect wave.
Give 'em the finger, kid. Nobody puts Gidget in the corner.
July 27, 2009
July 26, 2009
Review Archives (updated)
Articles (2)
Comedy: Do you take it black?
Cool Broads
Movie Reviews (26)
Action-Adventure
Machete (2010) * * * 1/2
Animation
Aristocats, The (1970) * * 1/2
Up (2009) * * * *
Comedy
Blazing Saddles (1974) * * 1/2
The Brady Bunch Movie (1995) * * *
Hangover, The (2009) * * * 1/2
Please Give (2010) * * * 1/2
School of Rock (2003) * * * 1/2
Cult
My Name is Bruce (2007) * 1/2
Drama
Beaches (1988) * * 1/2
Chariots of Fire (1981) * * 1/2
The King's Speech (2010) * * * *
Precious (2009) * * * *
Fantasy
Nanny McPhee (2005) * * *
Northfork (2003) * * * *
Foreign
Au Revoir, Les Enfantes (1987/French) * * * *
Horror
Drag Me to Hell (2009) * * * *
Henry: Portrait of a Serial Killer (1986) * * * *
Romance
Always (1989) * * 1/2
Gidget (1959) * * *
Suspense
An American Crime (2007) * * *
American, The (2010) * * * *
Double Indemnity (1944) * * * *
In the Heat of the Night (1967) * * * *
The Postman Always Rings Twice (1946) * * * 1/2
The Square (2008) * * * 1/2
The Stepfather (2009) * 1/2
Westerns
Duel in the Sun (1946) * * *
Comedy: Do you take it black?
Cool Broads
Movie Reviews (26)
Action-Adventure
Machete (2010) * * * 1/2
Animation
Aristocats, The (1970) * * 1/2
Up (2009) * * * *
Comedy
Blazing Saddles (1974) * * 1/2
The Brady Bunch Movie (1995) * * *
Hangover, The (2009) * * * 1/2
Please Give (2010) * * * 1/2
School of Rock (2003) * * * 1/2
Cult
My Name is Bruce (2007) * 1/2
Drama
Beaches (1988) * * 1/2
Chariots of Fire (1981) * * 1/2
The King's Speech (2010) * * * *
Precious (2009) * * * *
Fantasy
Nanny McPhee (2005) * * *
Northfork (2003) * * * *
Foreign
Au Revoir, Les Enfantes (1987/French) * * * *
Horror
Drag Me to Hell (2009) * * * *
Henry: Portrait of a Serial Killer (1986) * * * *
Romance
Always (1989) * * 1/2
Gidget (1959) * * *
Suspense
An American Crime (2007) * * *
American, The (2010) * * * *
Double Indemnity (1944) * * * *
In the Heat of the Night (1967) * * * *
The Postman Always Rings Twice (1946) * * * 1/2
The Square (2008) * * * 1/2
The Stepfather (2009) * 1/2
Westerns
Duel in the Sun (1946) * * *
July 23, 2009
NORTHFORK (2003)
* * * *
PG-13 (brief, blink-and-you-miss-it sexuality), C-103m, USA
D: The Polish Brothers. Peter Coyote, Anthony Edwards, Duel Farnes, Daryl Hannah, Kyle MacLachlin, Nick Nolte, Mark Polish, James Woods)
There is no tagline for the movie poster. Instead, film critic Roger Ebert of the Chicago Sun-Times is quoted on it: “A masterpiece! A visionary epic!”
He is so right.
This gentle, whimsical film only ran for one week in theatres, but word of mouth saved it from obscurity. Some movies are so understated and special that they don’t get the audience they deserve, especially in a culture bred on fast food and reality television. This was shown to me on video a few years ago, and I admit that I did not get it the first time. Maybe I wasn’t in the mood. It took three viewings for its magic to work on me, and I am not a patient woman. Some films do require that you be in the mood, free of distractions so you can focus. They demand that you pay attention, which isn’t many people’s idea of entertainment - certainly not mine. At first, I thought it was pretentious and slow. But some things are worth the effort in order to reap the rewards. You cannot be in a rush to appreciate beautiful landscapes, taciturn dialogue, or even meaningful silences. It’s like setting out to fish on the lake or hiking in the woods. The less people around, the sharper your senses become, because it’s simply you and Nature. If you take a deep breath and savour the aroma of a delicious broth and sip it slowly instead of guzzling it, you’ll enjoy it more.
Northfork is a fable based on a real-life incident in 1955. A dam has been built, and the residents of a Montana town must evacuate for higher ground before they get flooded. They also must dig up their graves and relocate their cemetery. The town is almost completed deserted, with the exception of four households. It is the duty of six men in somber black suits to evacuate each home before the dam bursts and wipes out everything. There are several sub-plots that interweave and knit together. I won’t bore you with the details – this should not be described – you’ll probably think I’m on crack if I even try. It is something to experience and savour firsthand, preferably in a dark room and on as large a TV as you can get your grubby little hands on. If you must, steal one. Also, watch it alone, if possible. Unless they’re serious movie geeks, don’t let them come within a hundred feet of your TV for at least two hours. Like beautiful music, it takes silence to appreciate this film.
This was supposed to be my first review when I started this movie blog. At first I paid attention, pen poised to scribble down notes. Over a few moments, something shifted. When I saw a coffin bob to the surface of a lake, I was intrigued, and in a few moments, my hand hovered over the page, perfectly still. It reminded me of Henri Rousseau’s The Sleeping Gypsy. There are many arresting images like this one. For example, the iconic image of a Buick and an ark on stilts is positively surreal.
A depressed Walter O’Brien (a very subdued James Woods), sits in his car, remembering his life about twenty years ago as a young newlywed, holding his beloved wife in his arms – they seem to be flickering images in an old silent film. It is a lovely moment – wistful and sad. Older widows and widowers must have moments like these in real life. It’s hard to imagine your grandparents with weathered faces and tired bodies being in love – but of course, they were. At least I hope so. Grandma and Grandpa were not always old and frail, and if they were lucky, they had ‘those’ feelings for each other. After a few moments, Walter shakes himself out of his reverie and starts the car. He has a job to do, and a special quest… perhaps something to do with the floating coffin?
In his final church service, Father Harlan (Nick Nolte) tells his dwindling congregation, "It all depends on how you look at it –we are either halfway to heaven or halfway to hell." In another part of town, a young couple drives to the orphanage on their way to evacuation. Eight-year-old Irwin, their adopted son, is deathly ill, and cannot travel. Father Harlan greets them and helps the man place the boy on the only cot left in the dormitory, with the sobbing wife following them. In his office, they ask him to keep him. This is obviously the husband’s idea, and it’s not a temporary arrangement. To them, a sick child is defective. All the doctors have left Northfork, so the kid doesn't even get proper medical care.
The priest can barely contain his shock at their callous pragmatism. “You're returning him, then?”
They are ashamed, but not enough to change their minds. “We apologize, Father.”
He says evenly, “We appreciate your honesty, and will ask for forgiveness.”
“Forgiveness? Let's be honest, Father. You gave us a sick child.”
“I gave you an angel!”
If he were a different kind of man, Nick Nolte, er, Father Harlan would snap this guy over his knee like a piece of balsa wood. But, this is a kinder, gentler Nick Nolte, so he lets them live. After they leave, he resigns himself to making the boy’s final days bearable. He nurses him, puts him back into bed when he falls out, and gets attached despite himself. He is more than just a priest doing his duty to comfort the sick. In every way but biologically, he is the boy’s true father. It is a truly beautiful sight to see this gentle giant take care of Irwin and standing guard over him. And when another couple seeks to adopt him, he refuses to even let them meet him. In Irwin's state, raising his hopes and dashing them will definitely kill him; so even the chance that they might decide to get him out of harm’s way isn’t even worth it. If he’s dying anyway, it might as well be in familiar surroundings, with someone who actually loves the child.
In his sickbed, Irwin has his own quest. In a feverish state, he wanders away from Father Harlan and Northfork and finds a motley crew of angels in various costumes of the past eras: Flower Hercules (Daryl Hannah) a hermaphrodite in Elizabethan costume, and Cod, a silent cowboy (Ben Foster), to list a couple. But they too, are seeking something – The Unknown Angel, waiting for him to arrive so they can move on. Irwin believes that he himself is an angel kidnapped by humans, and even shows them the scars on his shoulder blades, where the feathers had been. He begs them to take him with them, but alas, they do not take children.
As he slips in and out of consciousness, so do we. Irwin's journey is like a trip to Oz, after all the Munchkins have deserted the place. Only a few colourful characters have remained, and they view the outside world with suspicion, perhaps because they've seen too much. Are they real, or figments of Irwin’s imagination? You could choose either answer and still be right. They may reside inside his head, but by the end, they are definitely real. The photography is simply amazing. According to the directors, this film was shot in colour, with grey added for texture.The editing is flawless, and strategically transitions between muted colour and black-and-white. This is an Edward Hopper painting come to life.
Who will enjoy it? I'd say that it would appeal to fans of The Coen Brothers (especially O Brother, Where Are Thou? and The Hudsucker Proxy). And it will likely entertain people who enjoy puns and clever wordplay. Anyone else, probably not.
For example:
The town is dammed (damned)
Onboard the ark: “We’re all in the same boat.”
One stubborn cuss named Mr. Stalling builds an ark, rounding up two of everything, including two wives. James Woods is bemused by this: (“you must be Mrs. Stalling, and you must be, um, Mrs. Stalling...”)
When Walter is talking to his son Willis, he asks, "What are you talking about, Willis?”
And perhaps the most important statement of all is made by one of the men assigned to move people to higher ground: "It's our job to move people, not change their beliefs."
All performances are understated and perfect. Nick Nolte, James Woods and young Duel Farnes are especially good here. Woods doesn’t act like his patented psycho, and surprise, surprise! Nolte doesn’t leave a growing body count. Farnes, who plays the deathly ill Irwin is excellent – it’s hard to believe that he had never acted before. He’s not a precocious Movie Kid – he doesn’t mug for the camera or scream, slap both cheeks or bug out his eyes. He is not revoltingly cute. This is a real child and my rare maternal instincts kicked in – I just wanted to give him chicken soup – with a little help from Campbell’s, of course. Hey, it’s the thought that counts.
There is Christian imagery throughout, but not in an off-putting, preachy way. It’s not disrespectful, and non-religious people can enjoy it too. The weekly Catechism classes I was forced to attend until grade seven came in handy. It was actually fun to spot various biblical references. There are lonesome tableaux, iconic images of men in suits and fedoras - again, an Edward Hopper painting. Similar images from The Matrix and Dark City comes to mind.
Sadness and joy - Northfork celebrates life, and eases the passage into the afterlife. As one character puts it, “Remember when you leave to pack all your good memories. No one else will pack them for you.” Despite melancholy situations and impending disaster, this is not a depressing film. On the contrary, I found it quietly uplifting. It reminded me of an old Twilight Zone episode where an old woman is so frightened of Mr. Death that she's sure she knows what he'll look like, and refuses to leave the house in case he's out there, waiting. We learn here, as well, that Death is not always a bogeyman to be feared. Sometimes it holds your hand and gently guides you to the other side.
PG-13 (brief, blink-and-you-miss-it sexuality), C-103m, USA
D: The Polish Brothers. Peter Coyote, Anthony Edwards, Duel Farnes, Daryl Hannah, Kyle MacLachlin, Nick Nolte, Mark Polish, James Woods)
There is no tagline for the movie poster. Instead, film critic Roger Ebert of the Chicago Sun-Times is quoted on it: “A masterpiece! A visionary epic!”
He is so right.
This gentle, whimsical film only ran for one week in theatres, but word of mouth saved it from obscurity. Some movies are so understated and special that they don’t get the audience they deserve, especially in a culture bred on fast food and reality television. This was shown to me on video a few years ago, and I admit that I did not get it the first time. Maybe I wasn’t in the mood. It took three viewings for its magic to work on me, and I am not a patient woman. Some films do require that you be in the mood, free of distractions so you can focus. They demand that you pay attention, which isn’t many people’s idea of entertainment - certainly not mine. At first, I thought it was pretentious and slow. But some things are worth the effort in order to reap the rewards. You cannot be in a rush to appreciate beautiful landscapes, taciturn dialogue, or even meaningful silences. It’s like setting out to fish on the lake or hiking in the woods. The less people around, the sharper your senses become, because it’s simply you and Nature. If you take a deep breath and savour the aroma of a delicious broth and sip it slowly instead of guzzling it, you’ll enjoy it more.
Northfork is a fable based on a real-life incident in 1955. A dam has been built, and the residents of a Montana town must evacuate for higher ground before they get flooded. They also must dig up their graves and relocate their cemetery. The town is almost completed deserted, with the exception of four households. It is the duty of six men in somber black suits to evacuate each home before the dam bursts and wipes out everything. There are several sub-plots that interweave and knit together. I won’t bore you with the details – this should not be described – you’ll probably think I’m on crack if I even try. It is something to experience and savour firsthand, preferably in a dark room and on as large a TV as you can get your grubby little hands on. If you must, steal one. Also, watch it alone, if possible. Unless they’re serious movie geeks, don’t let them come within a hundred feet of your TV for at least two hours. Like beautiful music, it takes silence to appreciate this film.
This was supposed to be my first review when I started this movie blog. At first I paid attention, pen poised to scribble down notes. Over a few moments, something shifted. When I saw a coffin bob to the surface of a lake, I was intrigued, and in a few moments, my hand hovered over the page, perfectly still. It reminded me of Henri Rousseau’s The Sleeping Gypsy. There are many arresting images like this one. For example, the iconic image of a Buick and an ark on stilts is positively surreal.
A depressed Walter O’Brien (a very subdued James Woods), sits in his car, remembering his life about twenty years ago as a young newlywed, holding his beloved wife in his arms – they seem to be flickering images in an old silent film. It is a lovely moment – wistful and sad. Older widows and widowers must have moments like these in real life. It’s hard to imagine your grandparents with weathered faces and tired bodies being in love – but of course, they were. At least I hope so. Grandma and Grandpa were not always old and frail, and if they were lucky, they had ‘those’ feelings for each other. After a few moments, Walter shakes himself out of his reverie and starts the car. He has a job to do, and a special quest… perhaps something to do with the floating coffin?
In his final church service, Father Harlan (Nick Nolte) tells his dwindling congregation, "It all depends on how you look at it –we are either halfway to heaven or halfway to hell." In another part of town, a young couple drives to the orphanage on their way to evacuation. Eight-year-old Irwin, their adopted son, is deathly ill, and cannot travel. Father Harlan greets them and helps the man place the boy on the only cot left in the dormitory, with the sobbing wife following them. In his office, they ask him to keep him. This is obviously the husband’s idea, and it’s not a temporary arrangement. To them, a sick child is defective. All the doctors have left Northfork, so the kid doesn't even get proper medical care.
The priest can barely contain his shock at their callous pragmatism. “You're returning him, then?”
They are ashamed, but not enough to change their minds. “We apologize, Father.”
He says evenly, “We appreciate your honesty, and will ask for forgiveness.”
“Forgiveness? Let's be honest, Father. You gave us a sick child.”
“I gave you an angel!”
If he were a different kind of man, Nick Nolte, er, Father Harlan would snap this guy over his knee like a piece of balsa wood. But, this is a kinder, gentler Nick Nolte, so he lets them live. After they leave, he resigns himself to making the boy’s final days bearable. He nurses him, puts him back into bed when he falls out, and gets attached despite himself. He is more than just a priest doing his duty to comfort the sick. In every way but biologically, he is the boy’s true father. It is a truly beautiful sight to see this gentle giant take care of Irwin and standing guard over him. And when another couple seeks to adopt him, he refuses to even let them meet him. In Irwin's state, raising his hopes and dashing them will definitely kill him; so even the chance that they might decide to get him out of harm’s way isn’t even worth it. If he’s dying anyway, it might as well be in familiar surroundings, with someone who actually loves the child.
In his sickbed, Irwin has his own quest. In a feverish state, he wanders away from Father Harlan and Northfork and finds a motley crew of angels in various costumes of the past eras: Flower Hercules (Daryl Hannah) a hermaphrodite in Elizabethan costume, and Cod, a silent cowboy (Ben Foster), to list a couple. But they too, are seeking something – The Unknown Angel, waiting for him to arrive so they can move on. Irwin believes that he himself is an angel kidnapped by humans, and even shows them the scars on his shoulder blades, where the feathers had been. He begs them to take him with them, but alas, they do not take children.
As he slips in and out of consciousness, so do we. Irwin's journey is like a trip to Oz, after all the Munchkins have deserted the place. Only a few colourful characters have remained, and they view the outside world with suspicion, perhaps because they've seen too much. Are they real, or figments of Irwin’s imagination? You could choose either answer and still be right. They may reside inside his head, but by the end, they are definitely real. The photography is simply amazing. According to the directors, this film was shot in colour, with grey added for texture.The editing is flawless, and strategically transitions between muted colour and black-and-white. This is an Edward Hopper painting come to life.
Who will enjoy it? I'd say that it would appeal to fans of The Coen Brothers (especially O Brother, Where Are Thou? and The Hudsucker Proxy). And it will likely entertain people who enjoy puns and clever wordplay. Anyone else, probably not.
For example:
And perhaps the most important statement of all is made by one of the men assigned to move people to higher ground: "It's our job to move people, not change their beliefs."
All performances are understated and perfect. Nick Nolte, James Woods and young Duel Farnes are especially good here. Woods doesn’t act like his patented psycho, and surprise, surprise! Nolte doesn’t leave a growing body count. Farnes, who plays the deathly ill Irwin is excellent – it’s hard to believe that he had never acted before. He’s not a precocious Movie Kid – he doesn’t mug for the camera or scream, slap both cheeks or bug out his eyes. He is not revoltingly cute. This is a real child and my rare maternal instincts kicked in – I just wanted to give him chicken soup – with a little help from Campbell’s, of course. Hey, it’s the thought that counts.
There is Christian imagery throughout, but not in an off-putting, preachy way. It’s not disrespectful, and non-religious people can enjoy it too. The weekly Catechism classes I was forced to attend until grade seven came in handy. It was actually fun to spot various biblical references. There are lonesome tableaux, iconic images of men in suits and fedoras - again, an Edward Hopper painting. Similar images from The Matrix and Dark City comes to mind.
Sadness and joy - Northfork celebrates life, and eases the passage into the afterlife. As one character puts it, “Remember when you leave to pack all your good memories. No one else will pack them for you.” Despite melancholy situations and impending disaster, this is not a depressing film. On the contrary, I found it quietly uplifting. It reminded me of an old Twilight Zone episode where an old woman is so frightened of Mr. Death that she's sure she knows what he'll look like, and refuses to leave the house in case he's out there, waiting. We learn here, as well, that Death is not always a bogeyman to be feared. Sometimes it holds your hand and gently guides you to the other side.
July 07, 2009
SCHOOL OF ROCK (2003)
* * * 1/2
PG-13 (rude humour and some drug references), C-108m. USA, Germany
D: Art Linklater. Jack Black, Joan Cusack, Mike White, Sarah Silverman.
Tagline: Mr. Black. Accept no substitute.
If you see just one Jack Black film in your entire life, make it School of Rock. He simply lets the beast loose and gives a blistering performance as Dewey Finn, an overweight musician who eats, drinks, and breathes rock-and-roll. He's a slacker who doesn't pay rent and allows his friend and room mate to pay his share, shows up late for rehearsals, hogs the spotlight, and cheerfully goes along his merry way without considering boring things like rent, bills, or responsibility. That's for drones, dude. He's a creature of the moment. It's not that he's a bad person - he just has better things to do... like rock out! He dreads the idea of a "real" job; to him, that's selling out, man. Giving up what he loves is like giving up oxygen.
Dewey's passion for rock is so all-consuming that when it's timidly suggested that he sell one of his guitars to pay the rent, he asks incredulously, "Would you tell Picasso to sell one of his guitars?"
After one drunken grandstanding stunt too many, he gets the old heave-ho from his own band. Room mate Ned Schneebly (Mike White, who wrote the screenplay especially for Black, who does vocals and guitar for the rock band Tenacious D), a milquetoast substitute teacher, is pressured by bossy girlfriend Patty Di Marco (bitchily played by Sarah Silverman) to give Dewey an ultimatum: Get a "real" job or move out. She's is an emotional vampire, sucking the life out of wussy Ned and licking her lips for more; she's sort of a less malignant version of Melissa, the girlfriend from hell who browbeats poor Ed Helms in The Hangover. If you’ve ever caught her offbeat The Comedy Network’s The Sarah Silverman Show, you'll find her shrewish performance here is quite a departure from her own slacker persona.
With eviction on the horizon, Dewey is on the brink of spiralling depression until opportunity knocks... or rather, rings. He receives a call intended for Ned and after learning that a few weeks of teaching will earn the money he owes, steals Ned's substitute teacher job by impersonating him.
At first, our scruffy scalawag has no respect for the teaching profession, dismissing it as easy money for babysitting a bunch of kids. But when he finds himself teaching fifth grade at a prep school run by the tightly-wound Principal Roz Mullins (the always excellent Joan Cusack), it's a rocky start, and he has to scramble fast to keep up the charade. He might be able to fool Principal Mullins, but these kids are no fools. Movie kids never are.
Awkward and unprepared, he tries to give his students nothing but free time, but as most of us recall, time in a classroom goes slower than spectator golf. It's only when he accidentally overhears their music class that Dewey realizes that some of his students actually have talent, and gets a brilliant idea, telling them that they're going to do a class project called "Rock Band". Not only does it sort of get him off the hook, but he sees an opportunity to create his own band to enter the Battle of the Bands Contest and avenge his ousting from his old band by winning the $20,000 prize. True to 'teacher movies' of this type, Dewey (or "Mr. S", as he calls himself after an unsuccessful attempt to write 'Mr. Schneebly' on the board), finds himself bonding with his students, and even remembering their names by the time the credits start to roll. Aw... nobody saw that coming, did they? Gosh, I sure didn't!
But it's the way he does it that's a joy to watch. Not everyone is musically gifted, so he assigns them real jobs: roadies, security, special effects, costumes, sound, etc. Even groupies (or "cheerleaders" as he describes them to an understandably unimpressed student) get to name the band, and design t-shirts. And just what do you do with a colossally unmusical Type A ten-year-old who threatens to blow the whistle on you for trying to make her a groupie? Why, make her the band manager, of course.
When Mr. S asks the 'musical' ones who their influences are, he's appalled by the answers. When he hears, "Christina Aguilera", you can just see his little rockin' heart breaking. Imagine his reaction to American Idol. That's when he gets serious and decides to expose them to what he considers to be real rock: The Beatles, Janis Joplin, Pink Floyd, AC/DC, and especially Jimi Hendrix, Iggy Pop, and Kurt Cobain. He teaches them the joy of expressing their creativity and stickin' it to the Man. As you'd expect with a 'teacher movie', everyone changes in one way or another. The kids learn to loosen up and feel the joy of challenging themselves. They need him, or there's a chance they'll end up beaten down by convention and rules like poor Ned - especially one young boy who is constantly browbeaten by his humourless father. Boy, does he need a different father figure. Dewey changes too, without compromising who he is. More importantly, he learns when to lead and when to graciously step aside, to be an effective leader and guide their talents so that everyone can contribute to the band and feel a real sense of accomplishment.
Gee... do you think our boy Dewey has found his calling?
Joan Cusack more than holds her own with the more flamboyant Black as the uptight principal with a secret rocker-chick side. She has had a great career as a screen sidekick, and I really wish she would get her own movie. With her wonderfully expressive face and gangly Olive Oyl limbs, she may not be "Hollywood" beautiful, but she's every bit as talented as her brother John and easily steals every scene she's in, including those as Melanie Griffith's gal pal in 1988's Working Girl. She can certainly act better than baby-voiced Griffith, that's for sure. But that's another review... maybe.
It's to Mike White's credit and utter lack of vanity that he lets everyone else eat the scenery. As a writer of such character-based gems as Chuck and Buck, The Good Girl, and Year of the Dog, White is smart enough to let Jack Black do his thing, and then very timidly reminds us that he's there as the unappealing yin to Dewey's yang. Like Ed Helms’ hen-pecked character in The Hangover, Ned is completely cowed and unable to stand up to a female bully. But unlike the other guy, he is so contemptibly weak that you really don’t feel like saving him. It’s too much fun to watch.
“Dewey, maybe you should give up those dreams. I mean, I did..." Ned glances nervously at his fiercely approving fiancée and lamely finishes, "and things are going really great for me." He desperately believes that his path is the smarter, more sensible one, even though he's sure to die slowly from the inside. Patty's thirsty, and she's got that soul-suckin' straw ready.
Even his so-called ‘best friend’ has affectionate contempt for him. Note what Dewey wears on his first day of teaching; the tweedy 'teacher outfit', complete with cardigan, Orville Redenbacher bow tie, and hair neatly combed and parted to the side is ridiculously reminiscent of dorky Archie Andrews from the 1940s comics. It's so strange to see Jack Black with his hair combed, but perfect for the character. With his low opinion of Ned's profession, this is exactly what Dewey Finn would imagine a substitute teacher to look like. He probably dunked Ned's head in a few toilets before they became friends in school. I can just see grade-school Dewey offering 'protection' in exchange for the Anemic One to do his homework for him. It’s safe to assume that he likely recruited Ned as a band member earlier, which is why the photo of Rocker Ned-before-Patty looks hilariously pathetic. And how else could we possibly imagine Ned as a rocker before Patty got her hooks into him?
The Jack is wild here - he's a dervish and force of nature. He's like the illegitimate offspring of John Belushi, Meatloaf, Wolfman Jack, and the Tazmanian Devil. He's practically a cartoon character. Watch the way his eyes dart around as he's scheming, how those beetled eyebrows do a weird 'wave' from one end to the other, especially when he listens to the kids' music class. With a lesser actor, it would be cheap mugging but Black is too good for that, and never winks at the audience. He reminded me of Bill Murray's Tripper Harrison in 1979's Meatballs, another cheerfully anarchic character who inspires the sad sack youngsters in a crappy summer camp to thumb their noses at the Man.
Black shows chops as a serious actor and dials it way down when acting across from thespian heavyweights Nicole Kidman and Jennifer Jason Leigh in Margo at the Wedding (2007), as well as in King Kong (2005) with Naomi Watts. Like fellow madman Jim Carrey, he can do more than just mug and cavort for the camera. I remember watching an old X-Files episode (D.P.O. Season 3, Episode 3) and being completely taken by surprise when I recognized a young Jack Black as the villain's clueless best friend. I should have known then that this guy was lightning in a bottle - it was just a matter of time before someone let it out.
The kids are marvels. Despite being having no professional acting experience, they seem to enjoy working with Wild Jack, and though nobody is likely to pull an Anna Paquin, no one falls into the pit of dreadful kid-acting that seems to permeate Disney's Family Channel either. Best of all, there’s no air guitar or lip-syncing here. They play their own instruments and believably evolve from amateurish band standards to a bona fide rock performance.
In my opinion, the PG-13 rating is too strict. It’s a great family film, and everyone (maybe seven and older) can enjoy it. If anything, maybe your kid will stop bugging you for Guitar Hero™ and ask to learn to play a real instrument.
If not, well, just smile and let them find out the hard way when they throw themselves into a mosh pit and nobody bothers to catch them.
PG-13 (rude humour and some drug references), C-108m. USA, Germany
D: Art Linklater. Jack Black, Joan Cusack, Mike White, Sarah Silverman.
Tagline: Mr. Black. Accept no substitute.
If you see just one Jack Black film in your entire life, make it School of Rock. He simply lets the beast loose and gives a blistering performance as Dewey Finn, an overweight musician who eats, drinks, and breathes rock-and-roll. He's a slacker who doesn't pay rent and allows his friend and room mate to pay his share, shows up late for rehearsals, hogs the spotlight, and cheerfully goes along his merry way without considering boring things like rent, bills, or responsibility. That's for drones, dude. He's a creature of the moment. It's not that he's a bad person - he just has better things to do... like rock out! He dreads the idea of a "real" job; to him, that's selling out, man. Giving up what he loves is like giving up oxygen.
Dewey's passion for rock is so all-consuming that when it's timidly suggested that he sell one of his guitars to pay the rent, he asks incredulously, "Would you tell Picasso to sell one of his guitars?"
After one drunken grandstanding stunt too many, he gets the old heave-ho from his own band. Room mate Ned Schneebly (Mike White, who wrote the screenplay especially for Black, who does vocals and guitar for the rock band Tenacious D), a milquetoast substitute teacher, is pressured by bossy girlfriend Patty Di Marco (bitchily played by Sarah Silverman) to give Dewey an ultimatum: Get a "real" job or move out. She's is an emotional vampire, sucking the life out of wussy Ned and licking her lips for more; she's sort of a less malignant version of Melissa, the girlfriend from hell who browbeats poor Ed Helms in The Hangover. If you’ve ever caught her offbeat The Comedy Network’s The Sarah Silverman Show, you'll find her shrewish performance here is quite a departure from her own slacker persona.
With eviction on the horizon, Dewey is on the brink of spiralling depression until opportunity knocks... or rather, rings. He receives a call intended for Ned and after learning that a few weeks of teaching will earn the money he owes, steals Ned's substitute teacher job by impersonating him.
At first, our scruffy scalawag has no respect for the teaching profession, dismissing it as easy money for babysitting a bunch of kids. But when he finds himself teaching fifth grade at a prep school run by the tightly-wound Principal Roz Mullins (the always excellent Joan Cusack), it's a rocky start, and he has to scramble fast to keep up the charade. He might be able to fool Principal Mullins, but these kids are no fools. Movie kids never are.
Awkward and unprepared, he tries to give his students nothing but free time, but as most of us recall, time in a classroom goes slower than spectator golf. It's only when he accidentally overhears their music class that Dewey realizes that some of his students actually have talent, and gets a brilliant idea, telling them that they're going to do a class project called "Rock Band". Not only does it sort of get him off the hook, but he sees an opportunity to create his own band to enter the Battle of the Bands Contest and avenge his ousting from his old band by winning the $20,000 prize. True to 'teacher movies' of this type, Dewey (or "Mr. S", as he calls himself after an unsuccessful attempt to write 'Mr. Schneebly' on the board), finds himself bonding with his students, and even remembering their names by the time the credits start to roll. Aw... nobody saw that coming, did they? Gosh, I sure didn't!
But it's the way he does it that's a joy to watch. Not everyone is musically gifted, so he assigns them real jobs: roadies, security, special effects, costumes, sound, etc. Even groupies (or "cheerleaders" as he describes them to an understandably unimpressed student) get to name the band, and design t-shirts. And just what do you do with a colossally unmusical Type A ten-year-old who threatens to blow the whistle on you for trying to make her a groupie? Why, make her the band manager, of course.
When Mr. S asks the 'musical' ones who their influences are, he's appalled by the answers. When he hears, "Christina Aguilera", you can just see his little rockin' heart breaking. Imagine his reaction to American Idol. That's when he gets serious and decides to expose them to what he considers to be real rock: The Beatles, Janis Joplin, Pink Floyd, AC/DC, and especially Jimi Hendrix, Iggy Pop, and Kurt Cobain. He teaches them the joy of expressing their creativity and stickin' it to the Man. As you'd expect with a 'teacher movie', everyone changes in one way or another. The kids learn to loosen up and feel the joy of challenging themselves. They need him, or there's a chance they'll end up beaten down by convention and rules like poor Ned - especially one young boy who is constantly browbeaten by his humourless father. Boy, does he need a different father figure. Dewey changes too, without compromising who he is. More importantly, he learns when to lead and when to graciously step aside, to be an effective leader and guide their talents so that everyone can contribute to the band and feel a real sense of accomplishment.
Gee... do you think our boy Dewey has found his calling?
Joan Cusack more than holds her own with the more flamboyant Black as the uptight principal with a secret rocker-chick side. She has had a great career as a screen sidekick, and I really wish she would get her own movie. With her wonderfully expressive face and gangly Olive Oyl limbs, she may not be "Hollywood" beautiful, but she's every bit as talented as her brother John and easily steals every scene she's in, including those as Melanie Griffith's gal pal in 1988's Working Girl. She can certainly act better than baby-voiced Griffith, that's for sure. But that's another review... maybe.
It's to Mike White's credit and utter lack of vanity that he lets everyone else eat the scenery. As a writer of such character-based gems as Chuck and Buck, The Good Girl, and Year of the Dog, White is smart enough to let Jack Black do his thing, and then very timidly reminds us that he's there as the unappealing yin to Dewey's yang. Like Ed Helms’ hen-pecked character in The Hangover, Ned is completely cowed and unable to stand up to a female bully. But unlike the other guy, he is so contemptibly weak that you really don’t feel like saving him. It’s too much fun to watch.
“Dewey, maybe you should give up those dreams. I mean, I did..." Ned glances nervously at his fiercely approving fiancée and lamely finishes, "and things are going really great for me." He desperately believes that his path is the smarter, more sensible one, even though he's sure to die slowly from the inside. Patty's thirsty, and she's got that soul-suckin' straw ready.
Even his so-called ‘best friend’ has affectionate contempt for him. Note what Dewey wears on his first day of teaching; the tweedy 'teacher outfit', complete with cardigan, Orville Redenbacher bow tie, and hair neatly combed and parted to the side is ridiculously reminiscent of dorky Archie Andrews from the 1940s comics. It's so strange to see Jack Black with his hair combed, but perfect for the character. With his low opinion of Ned's profession, this is exactly what Dewey Finn would imagine a substitute teacher to look like. He probably dunked Ned's head in a few toilets before they became friends in school. I can just see grade-school Dewey offering 'protection' in exchange for the Anemic One to do his homework for him. It’s safe to assume that he likely recruited Ned as a band member earlier, which is why the photo of Rocker Ned-before-Patty looks hilariously pathetic. And how else could we possibly imagine Ned as a rocker before Patty got her hooks into him?
The Jack is wild here - he's a dervish and force of nature. He's like the illegitimate offspring of John Belushi, Meatloaf, Wolfman Jack, and the Tazmanian Devil. He's practically a cartoon character. Watch the way his eyes dart around as he's scheming, how those beetled eyebrows do a weird 'wave' from one end to the other, especially when he listens to the kids' music class. With a lesser actor, it would be cheap mugging but Black is too good for that, and never winks at the audience. He reminded me of Bill Murray's Tripper Harrison in 1979's Meatballs, another cheerfully anarchic character who inspires the sad sack youngsters in a crappy summer camp to thumb their noses at the Man.
Black shows chops as a serious actor and dials it way down when acting across from thespian heavyweights Nicole Kidman and Jennifer Jason Leigh in Margo at the Wedding (2007), as well as in King Kong (2005) with Naomi Watts. Like fellow madman Jim Carrey, he can do more than just mug and cavort for the camera. I remember watching an old X-Files episode (D.P.O. Season 3, Episode 3) and being completely taken by surprise when I recognized a young Jack Black as the villain's clueless best friend. I should have known then that this guy was lightning in a bottle - it was just a matter of time before someone let it out.
The kids are marvels. Despite being having no professional acting experience, they seem to enjoy working with Wild Jack, and though nobody is likely to pull an Anna Paquin, no one falls into the pit of dreadful kid-acting that seems to permeate Disney's Family Channel either. Best of all, there’s no air guitar or lip-syncing here. They play their own instruments and believably evolve from amateurish band standards to a bona fide rock performance.
In my opinion, the PG-13 rating is too strict. It’s a great family film, and everyone (maybe seven and older) can enjoy it. If anything, maybe your kid will stop bugging you for Guitar Hero™ and ask to learn to play a real instrument.
If not, well, just smile and let them find out the hard way when they throw themselves into a mosh pit and nobody bothers to catch them.
July 05, 2009
THE ARISTOCATS (1970)
* * 1/2
General. 78m, USA
D: Wolfgang Reitherman. Phil Harris, Eva Gabor, Sterling Holloway, Scatman Crothers, Liz English, Dean Clark, Gary Dubin, Paul Winchell, Monica Evans, Carole Shelley, Nancy Culp, Hermione Baddeley, Pat Buttram, George Lindsey.
Tagline: DIG THESE CATS...and all that JAZZ!
The Aristocats is a sentimental favourite of mine. I remember loving it and begging to see it over and over when I was four. Those were the days when Disney only released its animated classics once every seven years. There were no videos or DVDs to look forward to a couple of months later. You had to see the movie at the theatre at the time of release, and if you missed it, you didn't see it again until you hit puberty. And you thought waiting for Christmas morning was bad enough.
The story opens in 1910 Paris, with Maurice Chevalier warbling the title song; then we see an elegantly coiffed old woman ride in a horse-drawn carriage with her family of pampered cats. Chevalier's singing voice is horribly, nasally French – and with a name like mine, I can say that with impunity - he was good in Gaslight, but ever since seeing his leering lothario purring, "Thank Heaven for Little Girls" in 1958's Gigi, he gives me the willies.
Madame Bonfamille, a retired actress/opera singer (which, in those days wasn't far removed from being considered a prostitute), lives a comfortable life of luxury in a big townhouse with Duchess and her three rambunctious kittens. Mother Duchess (Eva Gabor), a beautiful white lady cat, is as refined and elegant as her mistress. The Aristokits are cute, squabbling siblings, all wearing different coloured bows and ribbons to show how wuvved they are. Ginger kit Toulouse is the artistic, pugnacious one, grey kitten Berlioz bangs a mean keyboard, and prissy little Marie, who's a fluffy white miniature version of her mother, is a precocious romantic whom we later discover has the beginnings of an Electra complex. True to the way girl characters were portrayed in the days before Kim Possible, she often gets in the way and needs to be saved from danger.
Madame invites Georges Harcourt, an elderly lawyer (it's hinted that he may also be an old beau) to her home to write her will. How she got this old and rich without even thinking about wills until now will remain a mystery. When the lawyer arrives, Edgar the butler admits him inside the mansion and has to assist the old boy up a 99-stepped staircase when he pooh-poohs using the elevator instead. I wondered, why not install a motorized chair alongside the wall, like Mrs. Deagle? Finally, he makes it to her parlour, and Edgar eavesdrops as Madame instructs Georges to put her cats in the will, then stipulates that dear, faithful Edgar shall inherit her fortune only after the kitties die.
Edgar, who was a good sport before, is naturally pissed off. With his awesome math powers, he realizes that with all those nine lives times four, that he'll never get his mitts on the money before kicking the bucket himself. So he decides to dope the cats' milk (and Roquefort, their mouse buddy by accident) and take them for a little ride in the countryside to 'disappear'.
Not that I blame him for not wanting to wait until the cats shop ‘til they drop, spending millions of francs, but wouldn't it have been smarter to kill Madame and the cats all at the same time and then dump the bodies into the Seine River? Or how about disguising the cats by dipping them in soot, like in 101 Dalmations? But that's just me and my evil brain.
In his attempts to help poor ol' Edgar, my equally evil brother suggested, "Why not wait until Madame dies and the kittens are in his care! Wait a few weeks and then start adding drainer fluid in the cat's milk. Poison them gradually so it looks like they're sick. The best part is he'd be home alone doing this." Upon further discussion, he also suggested dropping each cat in different parts of the country so they don’t get recognized as a ‘group’ of missing felines.
Edgar couldn't get into our gang of criminal masterminds.
Later that night, the cats wake up near a river in a storm, and are terrified and baffled as to how they got there, even though Toulouse keeps saying, "I bet it was old Edgar." Meanwhile, back at the mansion (or as I like to call it, The Cat Cave), Roquefort miraculously wakes from his drugged slumber and dons his cute li’l little Sherlock Holmes outfit and investigates the case of the missing cats, but gets nowhere. It even makes the headlines of the local papers, which is strange. Um, slow news day? Also, if his tiny body mass absorbed the same dosage as the cats, how come it didn’t kill him outright? Now, there’s a case for this Mouse Detective. It could be like D.O.A., that old 1949 noir thriller where Edmond O’Brien is poisoned and has only a few hours to find out who murdered him before he croaks. Alas, ol' Diz never took risks.
Jungle Book alumnae Phil Harris lends his easygoing voice to the O'Malley, a roguish but charismatic alley cat who gets the hots for Duchess and gallantly agrees to help her get home, and reluctantly lets the kids tag along. Eventually, he develops a paternal affection for the little cock-blockers. Hmmm… reddish Toulouse looks an awful lot like him. In fact, none of her kids resemble each other in either fur or eye colour. Maybe Duchess was an "actress" too.
Along the way, they meet a psychotic milkman, and in a scene similar to Stand by Me, barely escape getting mowed down by a train. Marie keeps falling into harm's way and constantly needs to be rescued by O'Malley, who in turn needs to be rescued from Adelaide and Abigail Gabble, a pair of giggly geese on a walking tour of France (Monica Evans and Carole Shelley, doing a slight variation of their shtick from their roles in 1967's Robin Hood). Finally, O'Malley finds a Best Western motel or his 'pad' - don't you just dig that beatnik jive in 1910 France? Then, in the film's most enjoyable sequence, introduces the family to Scat Cat (Scatman Crothers, who voiced King Louie in The Jungle Book in 1967) and his band of jammin’ alley cats. The scene looks like it was shot with coloured cellophane and acid, but it's way more exciting than the catnapping subplot. And I love the way the Scat Cats "crashed" the party.
The music is a mixed bag of French café musack and weird “Disney rock” - that strangely generic "mod" sound that hopelessly square producers invented - sort of Lawrence Welk with sped-up wow-wow-wow guitars, drums, and a pulse. Eg: You may have heard Hayley Mills "rocking out" in “Let’s Get Together” in The Parent Trap. Yes, Disney was still trying to be ‘hip’ with the 1960's "swingers" set, even though the story was set in 1910. He did it again in Robin Hood and Jungle Book. Like, groovy, Daddy-O!
There are a couple of sequences where Edgar encounters two country dogs named incongruously dubbed Napoleon (Pat Buttram) and Lafayette (George Lindsey). There's a point to these scenes, but they simply drag on too long for attention spans shorter than the lifespan of fruit fly - namely mine. Though episodic, and with mild racial sterotypes which you might have to explain to the kiddiwinks, The Aristocats is still lively enough to keep the kids' attention without insulting their intelligence (or yours), and a lot of fun, especially when the cats jam in O'Malley's 'pad' with "Everybody Wants to be a Cat". Young children will enjoy it, and it's a worthy addition to their DVD library. And those who grew up treasuring Disney classics will enjoy it too.
The whimsical artwork is charming, and has more of a watercolour medium than the richer tones of other films. The characters are appealing and memorable. The voice actors were mostly veterans from past Disney features, and they all do a terrific job, especially Phil Harris as O'Malley, who seems to channel his "Baloo" persona and infuse it with a pick-up artist on the make who just happens to be a romantic and is genuinely surprised to discover that he's actually good with kids. Eva Gabor (who would voice Miss Bianca in the The Rescuers movies years later), is fine as Duchess, though the character herself is more pretty than interesting. The kittens all have different personalities, although Marie undoubtedly stands out the most. Just check out all the "Marie" merchandise at any Disney store. I'm surprised it's not called "Marie's Place" instead.
Hmmm... sounds like a whorehouse in the Old West, doesn't it?
General. 78m, USA
D: Wolfgang Reitherman. Phil Harris, Eva Gabor, Sterling Holloway, Scatman Crothers, Liz English, Dean Clark, Gary Dubin, Paul Winchell, Monica Evans, Carole Shelley, Nancy Culp, Hermione Baddeley, Pat Buttram, George Lindsey.
Tagline: DIG THESE CATS...and all that JAZZ!
The Aristocats is a sentimental favourite of mine. I remember loving it and begging to see it over and over when I was four. Those were the days when Disney only released its animated classics once every seven years. There were no videos or DVDs to look forward to a couple of months later. You had to see the movie at the theatre at the time of release, and if you missed it, you didn't see it again until you hit puberty. And you thought waiting for Christmas morning was bad enough.
The story opens in 1910 Paris, with Maurice Chevalier warbling the title song; then we see an elegantly coiffed old woman ride in a horse-drawn carriage with her family of pampered cats. Chevalier's singing voice is horribly, nasally French – and with a name like mine, I can say that with impunity - he was good in Gaslight, but ever since seeing his leering lothario purring, "Thank Heaven for Little Girls" in 1958's Gigi, he gives me the willies.
Madame Bonfamille, a retired actress/opera singer (which, in those days wasn't far removed from being considered a prostitute), lives a comfortable life of luxury in a big townhouse with Duchess and her three rambunctious kittens. Mother Duchess (Eva Gabor), a beautiful white lady cat, is as refined and elegant as her mistress. The Aristokits are cute, squabbling siblings, all wearing different coloured bows and ribbons to show how wuvved they are. Ginger kit Toulouse is the artistic, pugnacious one, grey kitten Berlioz bangs a mean keyboard, and prissy little Marie, who's a fluffy white miniature version of her mother, is a precocious romantic whom we later discover has the beginnings of an Electra complex. True to the way girl characters were portrayed in the days before Kim Possible, she often gets in the way and needs to be saved from danger.
Madame invites Georges Harcourt, an elderly lawyer (it's hinted that he may also be an old beau) to her home to write her will. How she got this old and rich without even thinking about wills until now will remain a mystery. When the lawyer arrives, Edgar the butler admits him inside the mansion and has to assist the old boy up a 99-stepped staircase when he pooh-poohs using the elevator instead. I wondered, why not install a motorized chair alongside the wall, like Mrs. Deagle? Finally, he makes it to her parlour, and Edgar eavesdrops as Madame instructs Georges to put her cats in the will, then stipulates that dear, faithful Edgar shall inherit her fortune only after the kitties die.
Edgar, who was a good sport before, is naturally pissed off. With his awesome math powers, he realizes that with all those nine lives times four, that he'll never get his mitts on the money before kicking the bucket himself. So he decides to dope the cats' milk (and Roquefort, their mouse buddy by accident) and take them for a little ride in the countryside to 'disappear'.
Not that I blame him for not wanting to wait until the cats shop ‘til they drop, spending millions of francs, but wouldn't it have been smarter to kill Madame and the cats all at the same time and then dump the bodies into the Seine River? Or how about disguising the cats by dipping them in soot, like in 101 Dalmations? But that's just me and my evil brain.
In his attempts to help poor ol' Edgar, my equally evil brother suggested, "Why not wait until Madame dies and the kittens are in his care! Wait a few weeks and then start adding drainer fluid in the cat's milk. Poison them gradually so it looks like they're sick. The best part is he'd be home alone doing this." Upon further discussion, he also suggested dropping each cat in different parts of the country so they don’t get recognized as a ‘group’ of missing felines.
Edgar couldn't get into our gang of criminal masterminds.
Later that night, the cats wake up near a river in a storm, and are terrified and baffled as to how they got there, even though Toulouse keeps saying, "I bet it was old Edgar." Meanwhile, back at the mansion (or as I like to call it, The Cat Cave), Roquefort miraculously wakes from his drugged slumber and dons his cute li’l little Sherlock Holmes outfit and investigates the case of the missing cats, but gets nowhere. It even makes the headlines of the local papers, which is strange. Um, slow news day? Also, if his tiny body mass absorbed the same dosage as the cats, how come it didn’t kill him outright? Now, there’s a case for this Mouse Detective. It could be like D.O.A., that old 1949 noir thriller where Edmond O’Brien is poisoned and has only a few hours to find out who murdered him before he croaks. Alas, ol' Diz never took risks.
Jungle Book alumnae Phil Harris lends his easygoing voice to the O'Malley, a roguish but charismatic alley cat who gets the hots for Duchess and gallantly agrees to help her get home, and reluctantly lets the kids tag along. Eventually, he develops a paternal affection for the little cock-blockers. Hmmm… reddish Toulouse looks an awful lot like him. In fact, none of her kids resemble each other in either fur or eye colour. Maybe Duchess was an "actress" too.
Along the way, they meet a psychotic milkman, and in a scene similar to Stand by Me, barely escape getting mowed down by a train. Marie keeps falling into harm's way and constantly needs to be rescued by O'Malley, who in turn needs to be rescued from Adelaide and Abigail Gabble, a pair of giggly geese on a walking tour of France (Monica Evans and Carole Shelley, doing a slight variation of their shtick from their roles in 1967's Robin Hood). Finally, O'Malley finds a Best Western motel or his 'pad' - don't you just dig that beatnik jive in 1910 France? Then, in the film's most enjoyable sequence, introduces the family to Scat Cat (Scatman Crothers, who voiced King Louie in The Jungle Book in 1967) and his band of jammin’ alley cats. The scene looks like it was shot with coloured cellophane and acid, but it's way more exciting than the catnapping subplot. And I love the way the Scat Cats "crashed" the party.
The music is a mixed bag of French café musack and weird “Disney rock” - that strangely generic "mod" sound that hopelessly square producers invented - sort of Lawrence Welk with sped-up wow-wow-wow guitars, drums, and a pulse. Eg: You may have heard Hayley Mills "rocking out" in “Let’s Get Together” in The Parent Trap. Yes, Disney was still trying to be ‘hip’ with the 1960's "swingers" set, even though the story was set in 1910. He did it again in Robin Hood and Jungle Book. Like, groovy, Daddy-O!
There are a couple of sequences where Edgar encounters two country dogs named incongruously dubbed Napoleon (Pat Buttram) and Lafayette (George Lindsey). There's a point to these scenes, but they simply drag on too long for attention spans shorter than the lifespan of fruit fly - namely mine. Though episodic, and with mild racial sterotypes which you might have to explain to the kiddiwinks, The Aristocats is still lively enough to keep the kids' attention without insulting their intelligence (or yours), and a lot of fun, especially when the cats jam in O'Malley's 'pad' with "Everybody Wants to be a Cat". Young children will enjoy it, and it's a worthy addition to their DVD library. And those who grew up treasuring Disney classics will enjoy it too.
The whimsical artwork is charming, and has more of a watercolour medium than the richer tones of other films. The characters are appealing and memorable. The voice actors were mostly veterans from past Disney features, and they all do a terrific job, especially Phil Harris as O'Malley, who seems to channel his "Baloo" persona and infuse it with a pick-up artist on the make who just happens to be a romantic and is genuinely surprised to discover that he's actually good with kids. Eva Gabor (who would voice Miss Bianca in the The Rescuers movies years later), is fine as Duchess, though the character herself is more pretty than interesting. The kittens all have different personalities, although Marie undoubtedly stands out the most. Just check out all the "Marie" merchandise at any Disney store. I'm surprised it's not called "Marie's Place" instead.
Hmmm... sounds like a whorehouse in the Old West, doesn't it?
July 01, 2009
Comedy: Do you take it black?
Black comedy is not for everyone. It's not "nice", nor is it gentle or comforting. It pokes fun at subjects that aren't considered humourous at all, like violence, death, religion, politics, love, the power of the human spirit, etc. And on their own, these things are not funny. So why do some of us laugh at this stuff on the silver screen?
Don't get me wrong. I'm as horrified as anyone else about real-life evils such as war, abuse, terrorism, and death. I like to think I'm a good person. I don't really want to hurt anyone. Real-life violence is not acceptable, ever. But being human, I do get angry, and need an outlet so I can smile at people who piss me off and avoid prison.
But... if you're anything like me, you also want to be assured of love and decency in the world, that good people do exist and the exceptional ones will step up and be heroes, like Harriet Tubman, those who gave sanctuary to prosecuted Jews during WWII, firefighters who risk their lives to save others, etc. You know, the real heroes. You want to believe that the bad guys will be punished as they should be in real life. You want to be the New Sheriff in Town, and smite evil in the messiest, more satisfying way possible. Or maybe you want to play Bad Hat for a couple of hours, and rip into the dillholes who make miserable for others, or even boring characters who represent their real-life counterparts in your life and drag you down. Perhaps you watch horror movies and black comedies in order to calm your fears and cope with the real monsters. Whatever it is, you're not a bad person. It's your coping mechanism, that's all. At least, I hope so.
One of my favourite sayings is this: I know how to be evil... I just choose not to be.
Sooooo....
You will hate these films if:
... you just want to be diverted for a couple of hours, but dislike conflicts more complicated than cute misunderstandings and pratfalls.
... you prefer light, non-threatening stories with "America's Sweetheart"-type actresses like Julia Roberts, Meg Ryan or Sandra Bullock as a bland, generically pretty heroine who somehow finds Twu Wuv with an equally bland, generically handsome hero.
... you think movie violence in Bugs Bunny cartoons is just awful. They were right to cut the scenes of Daffy Duck blowing his beak in twenty different directions. And Tom and Jerry should learn to co-exist. And share. And discuss their differences until they alienate their bloodthirsty fans.
These might be too much for the timid or the staunchly virtuous. If you're like Barbara Bush and don't want to waste your beautiful mind, that's your right. I still love you. We just can't go to the movies together, that's all. But if you're willing to look in a dark mirror, you may find some kindred spirits here.
American Psycho (2000) * * * 1/2
Former child actor and future Dark Knight Christian Slater shot to stardom with this nihilistic stab at 80's consumerism. This is about as far into a psychopath's head as you want to go.
Bad Santa (2003) * * *
Billy Bob Thornton won't just give you coal, he'll make you eat it.
Barton Fink (1991) * * * 1/2
The Coen Brothers knock the smugness out of a conceited playwright and that''s just the beginning of this Faustian tale.
Fido (2006) * * *
In this bizarro universe, zombies are not killed, they're programmed to serve the living. Carrie-Anne Moss is adorable as a chipper 50's mom who takes a shine to "Fido", a mild-mannered zombie.
Grosse Pointe Blank (1997) * * *
A hitman (John Cusack) decides to attend his 20th high school reunion.
The Hangover (2009) * * * 1/2
Crude but hilarious road movie about a quartet of guys who go to Las Vegas for their buddy's bachelor party. A few drinks later, they wake up in their hotel room in chaos (including a man-eating tiger in the bathroom!) and the groom-to-be missing.
Heathers (1989) * * * 1/2
Wynona Ryder and Christian Slater wreak havoc upon cliques and high school hierarchy. This is Mean Girls with a shot of Drano.
Hot Fuzz (2007) * * * *
Simon Pegg is a humourless by-the-book policeman who is reassigned to a seemingly peaceful hamlet as 'punishment' for making his colleagues look bad. Lots of fun cameos from character actors in classic horror films like The Omen and The Wicker Man.
Parents (1989) * * *
In the bland conformist 50's, Randy Quaid is Dad, a bland, sinister patriarch in a family who only wants to take care of his family and raise his little boy to be Just Like Him. And just what does Daddy do at the plant?
Raising Arizona (1987) * * * *
Another early hit from those wascally Coen Brothers: A chronic criminal (dumb but lovable Nicolas Cage) and the tough cop he marries (a fiercely baby-crazed Holly Hunter) are unable to have children - so they steal one. This is like Bonnie and Clyde crossed with a Warner Bros. cartoon.
Serial Mom (1994) * * *
Kathleen Turner is a sweet old-fashioned mom who's fiercely, murderously protective of her family and her warped sense of right and wrong.
Shaun of the Dead (2004) * * *
This British gem launched Simon Pegg into stardom. He's a guy with parent and girlfriend issues, plus he has to deal with a zombie uprising.
To Die For (1995) * * *
A vapid, narcissistic weather girl (Nicole Kidman) decides that her dull hubby is an obstacle to her career. So she enlists a trio of high school outcasts to get rid of him. Sharply skewers television, fame, and the media.
Very Bad Things (1998) * * *
A bachelor party goes horribly wrong when a stripper/hooker is accidentally killed and the guys have to scramble to hide the body.
The War of the Roses (1989) * * * 1/2
Danny DeVito, Michael Douglas, and Kathleen Turner join forces in this poisonous valentine about a divorcing couple who go to extreme measures to possess the house.
Young Adult (2011) * * * 1/2
Don't get me wrong. I'm as horrified as anyone else about real-life evils such as war, abuse, terrorism, and death. I like to think I'm a good person. I don't really want to hurt anyone. Real-life violence is not acceptable, ever. But being human, I do get angry, and need an outlet so I can smile at people who piss me off and avoid prison.
But... if you're anything like me, you also want to be assured of love and decency in the world, that good people do exist and the exceptional ones will step up and be heroes, like Harriet Tubman, those who gave sanctuary to prosecuted Jews during WWII, firefighters who risk their lives to save others, etc. You know, the real heroes. You want to believe that the bad guys will be punished as they should be in real life. You want to be the New Sheriff in Town, and smite evil in the messiest, more satisfying way possible. Or maybe you want to play Bad Hat for a couple of hours, and rip into the dillholes who make miserable for others, or even boring characters who represent their real-life counterparts in your life and drag you down. Perhaps you watch horror movies and black comedies in order to calm your fears and cope with the real monsters. Whatever it is, you're not a bad person. It's your coping mechanism, that's all. At least, I hope so.
One of my favourite sayings is this: I know how to be evil... I just choose not to be.
Sooooo....
You will hate these films if:
... you just want to be diverted for a couple of hours, but dislike conflicts more complicated than cute misunderstandings and pratfalls.
... you prefer light, non-threatening stories with "America's Sweetheart"-type actresses like Julia Roberts, Meg Ryan or Sandra Bullock as a bland, generically pretty heroine who somehow finds Twu Wuv with an equally bland, generically handsome hero.
... you think movie violence in Bugs Bunny cartoons is just awful. They were right to cut the scenes of Daffy Duck blowing his beak in twenty different directions. And Tom and Jerry should learn to co-exist. And share. And discuss their differences until they alienate their bloodthirsty fans.
These might be too much for the timid or the staunchly virtuous. If you're like Barbara Bush and don't want to waste your beautiful mind, that's your right. I still love you. We just can't go to the movies together, that's all. But if you're willing to look in a dark mirror, you may find some kindred spirits here.
American Psycho (2000) * * * 1/2
Former child actor and future Dark Knight Christian Slater shot to stardom with this nihilistic stab at 80's consumerism. This is about as far into a psychopath's head as you want to go.
Bad Santa (2003) * * *
Billy Bob Thornton won't just give you coal, he'll make you eat it.
Barton Fink (1991) * * * 1/2
The Coen Brothers knock the smugness out of a conceited playwright and that''s just the beginning of this Faustian tale.
Fido (2006) * * *
In this bizarro universe, zombies are not killed, they're programmed to serve the living. Carrie-Anne Moss is adorable as a chipper 50's mom who takes a shine to "Fido", a mild-mannered zombie.
Grosse Pointe Blank (1997) * * *
A hitman (John Cusack) decides to attend his 20th high school reunion.
The Hangover (2009) * * * 1/2
Crude but hilarious road movie about a quartet of guys who go to Las Vegas for their buddy's bachelor party. A few drinks later, they wake up in their hotel room in chaos (including a man-eating tiger in the bathroom!) and the groom-to-be missing.
Heathers (1989) * * * 1/2
Wynona Ryder and Christian Slater wreak havoc upon cliques and high school hierarchy. This is Mean Girls with a shot of Drano.
Hot Fuzz (2007) * * * *
Simon Pegg is a humourless by-the-book policeman who is reassigned to a seemingly peaceful hamlet as 'punishment' for making his colleagues look bad. Lots of fun cameos from character actors in classic horror films like The Omen and The Wicker Man.
Parents (1989) * * *
In the bland conformist 50's, Randy Quaid is Dad, a bland, sinister patriarch in a family who only wants to take care of his family and raise his little boy to be Just Like Him. And just what does Daddy do at the plant?
Raising Arizona (1987) * * * *
Another early hit from those wascally Coen Brothers: A chronic criminal (dumb but lovable Nicolas Cage) and the tough cop he marries (a fiercely baby-crazed Holly Hunter) are unable to have children - so they steal one. This is like Bonnie and Clyde crossed with a Warner Bros. cartoon.
Serial Mom (1994) * * *
Kathleen Turner is a sweet old-fashioned mom who's fiercely, murderously protective of her family and her warped sense of right and wrong.
Shaun of the Dead (2004) * * *
This British gem launched Simon Pegg into stardom. He's a guy with parent and girlfriend issues, plus he has to deal with a zombie uprising.
To Die For (1995) * * *
A vapid, narcissistic weather girl (Nicole Kidman) decides that her dull hubby is an obstacle to her career. So she enlists a trio of high school outcasts to get rid of him. Sharply skewers television, fame, and the media.
Very Bad Things (1998) * * *
A bachelor party goes horribly wrong when a stripper/hooker is accidentally killed and the guys have to scramble to hide the body.
The War of the Roses (1989) * * * 1/2
Danny DeVito, Michael Douglas, and Kathleen Turner join forces in this poisonous valentine about a divorcing couple who go to extreme measures to possess the house.
Young Adult (2011) * * * 1/2
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