Showing posts with label D. Show all posts
Showing posts with label D. Show all posts
February 06, 2011
DOUBLE INDEMNITY (1944)
* * * *
How could he know that murder could sometimes smell like honeysuckle?
June 16, 2009
DUEL IN THE SUN (1946)
* * *
PG C-129m and 144m (roadshow version). USA
D: David O. Selznick
Jennifer Jones, Gregory Peck, Joseph Cotten, Lionel Barrymore, Lillian Gish, Butterfly McQueen, Walter Huston, Charles Bickford
Tagline: Emotions... As Violent As The Wind-Swept Prairie!
At the time of its release, Duel in the Sun was nicknamed "Lust in the Dust". It could have been called "Twin Peaks", given the attention to the leading lady’s constant heaving bosom! This 1946 David O. Selznick picture is a western soap about how ill-fated passion consumes a beautiful 'half-breed' and a brutish outlaw. That pretty much sums up the plot. It's campy fun for classic movie fans, but also sets itself up for ridicule. The dialogue is ripe with howlers. The standouts are deathbed scene (when the dying character actually crawls out of bed to comfort another) and the final shootout.
This belongs with the best of the 'so-bad-it's-good' movies. Far from boring, it's bigger than life, albeit silly and pretentious. In the right frame of mind, you can have a good time with this. If this film had been made today – heaven forbid – the results would be less than bearable. Try to imagine, instead of Gregory Peck and Jennifer Jones, we had George Clooney and Jennifer Lopez, reunited after Sodenbergh’s Out of Sight (1998). Better yet, imagine George Clooney groping Jennifer Love Hewitt playing a Mexican for a thoroughly faithful remake. The star power gives Duel in the Sun a boost. These are terrific actors (with the exception of the lovely but dramatically-challenged Jennifer Jones) trapped in a bad movie.
Jennifer Jones plays Pearl Chavez, a fiery young girl of sweet sixteen who is orphaned after her aristocratic father is hung for the murder of her Cherokee mother and her gambler lover. Pearl is sent to live as the ward of her father’s old love, Laura Belle (Lillian Gish, giving her usual long-suffering performance), who is now married to bigoted senator Jackson McCanles (Lionel Barrymore). Their two grown sons are good guy Jesse (Joseph Cotten) and bad boy Lewt (Gregory Peck).
The girl harbours a girlish crush on gentle Jesse but Lewt decides he wants her. In fact, all men sniff around the poor girl, even her own father Look at the way he strokes her hair before playing hangman. He comes so close to whispering, “You smell like your mother!”
After catching Pearl lying about swimming with Lewt, Laura Belle summons a traveling preacher dubbed ‘The Sin Killer’ to cure her wild ward. Cripes. The woman is so condescending that it's ridiculous that she was supposed to be one of the 'good' characters! I hated her guts, especially in her scenes with Butterfly McQueen.
Pearl is dragged from her bed wearing nothing but a blanket to be exorcised. The ‘blessing’ is as follows:
Sin Killer: Pearl? You can be a woman of sin or a woman of God. Which is it to be?
Pearl: I want to be a good girl.
Sin Killer: And remember that the devil is always aimin' to hog-tie ya. Sometimes he comes ghostin' over the plains in the shape of a sneakin' rustler. And sometimes, beggin' your pardon Laura Belle, he stakes out the homes of the worthy and the god-fearin'. Pearl, you're curved in the flesh of temptation. Resistance is gonna be a darn sight harder for you than for females protected by the shape of sows. Yes siree, bob. You gotta sweeten yourself with prayer. Pray till you sweat, and you'll save yourself from eternal hell-fire. You understand me girl?
Pearl: Yes sir.
He gives her a medallion that promises to keep her ‘sweet and clean as the first milk’. When confronting her at the swimming hole the next day, Lewt throws it into the weeds, sneering, “I don’t want no milkmaid!”
Poor Pearl. Not only does she suffer racial slurs and sexual harassment, but she is patronized by everyone except the one person who could have given her the happiest of endings - a way out. Every time she reaches happiness and respectability (read: not Lewt's ho), something knocks her down and keeps her there. She's destined to be her mother's daughter right to the end. But Lewt is going to Hell and taking Pearl with him.
Selznick had obviously hoped to re-create the success of his 1939 classic, Gone with the Wind. The scenery, especially certain shots of the house will remind viewers of Tara. The character of good brother Jesse is just another reincarnation of Ashley. Pearl even throws a hissy fit and runs from the house. Just like Scarlett did after she finds out that Ashley Wilkes is engaged to Melanie. He even casts GWTW alumni Butterfly McQueen to play her usual dumber-than-a-bag-of-hair post-war slave - er...servant girl. This is a white man's 1880’s Texas, after all.
Oh, Davy! You just couldn't let go and make something new, could you? Sounds like someone you know, eh... Mr. Lucas?
This was anything but romantic to me. Lewt is handsome but spoiled, with a dangerous sense of entitlement. In his mind, everything on the land belongs to him, including Pearl. In the tradition of buttholes everywhere, he dismisses the idea of marrying a 'bobtail half-breed' because he fears for his reputation and the wrath of his racist father. Still, that doesn’t mean that she shouldn’t save herself for booty calls. At one point, he tells her menacingly, "Anyone who was my girl is still my girl." He must keep them all in a basement somewhere.
Despite the fact that she carries a torch for the noble (read: stuffy) Jesse, she is fatally attracted to a man who shares her lustful appetites. She knows he’s no good, but... She Just Can’t Help Herself! With insulting glibness, the movie hints and hammers that Pearl's ‘half-breed’ nature is to blame for her raging libido. Like mother, like daughter. Oh my. How deep.
One of the locals warns other men away from her, and declares, "No one marries Pearl Chavez until Lewt McCanles decides to give away the bride." How is that romantic? And when a woman in the movies has to choose between two men, why is the boring guy always the good one and the sexy one always a dangerous bully?
Part of the problem is miscasting Jennifer Jones, who was the lover and future wife of David O. Selznick at the time, so the casting couch can be blamed for this one. She constantly mugs for the camera. The most annoying mannerism of all was the way she averted her eyes. She never looks anyone in the eye. Ever! Her eyes are so pale against the dark face paint that she looks possessed. She reminds me of that creepy poster for The Eyes of Laura Mars (1978) (http://www.impawards.com/1978/eyes_of_laura_mars.html).
All that face and arm paint doesn’t hold up well under sweat. Near the end, after climbing sharp rocks and fighting for her life, she looks positively orange. In fact, you can have a drinking game and take a slug every time she a) tosses her hair, b) flashes her teeth, or c) sobs, rolling orgasmically on her bed.
The film has no nudity, but there's no doubt what goes on behind closed doors. See, that's what thunder and lightning are for! Or fireworks! I'm actually surprised Selznick didn't add a porthole or train tunnel shot somewhere. His work here is about as subtle as a combover.
Don't get me wrong. I love Gregory Peck, but his best performances were in quiet, heroic roles, such as Atticus Finch in 1962's To Kill a Mockingbird and Captain James McKay in 1958's The Big Country. He just isn't believable as the bad boy. He looks the part, and is especially yummy in spurs - I have a weakness for cowboys - as well as gladiators and pirates. Pardon me while I go fan myself. Ahem. He looks great until he opens his mouth and words come out.
Peck is woefully miscast as a southerner here, but he got it right in 'Mockingbird'. He has charisma and presence, but there's something off. It's like watching Atticus Finch try to play Stanley Kawalski. I admit I did burst out laughing when he started singing, “I’ve Been Working on the Railroad” after causing a train wreck. Ghoulish, but funny.
Don't worry about how long the movie is because much of the feature is padded out by an introductory overture and an intermission. Without those two interruptions, the film is a few minutes over two hours. Just hit 'fast-forward' during these parts and you'll be fine. After twelve minutes of the overture – yep, twelve long, agonizing minutes of listening to an overblown orchestra while staring at the profile of Squaw’s Head Rock against a blazing sunset, our narrator Orson Welles finally tells us the story of the doomed lovers.
When we watched the DVD, my movie aficionado brother – a tyrannical purist who would rather challenge than comfort those around him - insisted that we experience the movie "properly", despite the fact that Mom and I begged for mercy. Nothing doing. With only three more minutes to go, we came to an understanding when I threatened to make him watch The Lost Boys with his eyes forced open - ala Clockwork Orange. But never fear – he will pay... (twirls imaginary mustache) Yes, imaginary!
One unintentionally humourous moment to note is when Laura Belle looks at a photo of her sons as children. A crude arrow is scrawled under one kid, with "Lewt" printed underneath it. The filmmakers did that was for our benefit - wasn't that kind? Or maybe the woman can't tell which kid is which without her notes.
These actors have done much better work in their lifetimes - be sure and seek them out. They give it their all, but even these Hollywood giants can’t elevate this train wreck. Lionel Barrymore, in particular, has wicked fun doing a hammy impression of his Mr. Potter from It’s a Wonderful Life, again with a wheelchair. I used to wonder if he could walk in real life. It's pure camp, and certainly not the epic it promises to be.
I recently bought the DVD without seeing the movie first, which wasn't a losing hand but not much of a jackpot. Luckily, Mom loves old westerns too, so it found a good home.
PG C-129m and 144m (roadshow version). USA
D: David O. Selznick
Jennifer Jones, Gregory Peck, Joseph Cotten, Lionel Barrymore, Lillian Gish, Butterfly McQueen, Walter Huston, Charles Bickford
Tagline: Emotions... As Violent As The Wind-Swept Prairie!
At the time of its release, Duel in the Sun was nicknamed "Lust in the Dust". It could have been called "Twin Peaks", given the attention to the leading lady’s constant heaving bosom! This 1946 David O. Selznick picture is a western soap about how ill-fated passion consumes a beautiful 'half-breed' and a brutish outlaw. That pretty much sums up the plot. It's campy fun for classic movie fans, but also sets itself up for ridicule. The dialogue is ripe with howlers. The standouts are deathbed scene (when the dying character actually crawls out of bed to comfort another) and the final shootout.
This belongs with the best of the 'so-bad-it's-good' movies. Far from boring, it's bigger than life, albeit silly and pretentious. In the right frame of mind, you can have a good time with this. If this film had been made today – heaven forbid – the results would be less than bearable. Try to imagine, instead of Gregory Peck and Jennifer Jones, we had George Clooney and Jennifer Lopez, reunited after Sodenbergh’s Out of Sight (1998). Better yet, imagine George Clooney groping Jennifer Love Hewitt playing a Mexican for a thoroughly faithful remake. The star power gives Duel in the Sun a boost. These are terrific actors (with the exception of the lovely but dramatically-challenged Jennifer Jones) trapped in a bad movie.
Jennifer Jones plays Pearl Chavez, a fiery young girl of sweet sixteen who is orphaned after her aristocratic father is hung for the murder of her Cherokee mother and her gambler lover. Pearl is sent to live as the ward of her father’s old love, Laura Belle (Lillian Gish, giving her usual long-suffering performance), who is now married to bigoted senator Jackson McCanles (Lionel Barrymore). Their two grown sons are good guy Jesse (Joseph Cotten) and bad boy Lewt (Gregory Peck).
The girl harbours a girlish crush on gentle Jesse but Lewt decides he wants her. In fact, all men sniff around the poor girl, even her own father Look at the way he strokes her hair before playing hangman. He comes so close to whispering, “You smell like your mother!”
After catching Pearl lying about swimming with Lewt, Laura Belle summons a traveling preacher dubbed ‘The Sin Killer’ to cure her wild ward. Cripes. The woman is so condescending that it's ridiculous that she was supposed to be one of the 'good' characters! I hated her guts, especially in her scenes with Butterfly McQueen.
Pearl is dragged from her bed wearing nothing but a blanket to be exorcised. The ‘blessing’ is as follows:
Sin Killer: Pearl? You can be a woman of sin or a woman of God. Which is it to be?
Pearl: I want to be a good girl.
Sin Killer: And remember that the devil is always aimin' to hog-tie ya. Sometimes he comes ghostin' over the plains in the shape of a sneakin' rustler. And sometimes, beggin' your pardon Laura Belle, he stakes out the homes of the worthy and the god-fearin'. Pearl, you're curved in the flesh of temptation. Resistance is gonna be a darn sight harder for you than for females protected by the shape of sows. Yes siree, bob. You gotta sweeten yourself with prayer. Pray till you sweat, and you'll save yourself from eternal hell-fire. You understand me girl?
Pearl: Yes sir.
He gives her a medallion that promises to keep her ‘sweet and clean as the first milk’. When confronting her at the swimming hole the next day, Lewt throws it into the weeds, sneering, “I don’t want no milkmaid!”
Poor Pearl. Not only does she suffer racial slurs and sexual harassment, but she is patronized by everyone except the one person who could have given her the happiest of endings - a way out. Every time she reaches happiness and respectability (read: not Lewt's ho), something knocks her down and keeps her there. She's destined to be her mother's daughter right to the end. But Lewt is going to Hell and taking Pearl with him.
Selznick had obviously hoped to re-create the success of his 1939 classic, Gone with the Wind. The scenery, especially certain shots of the house will remind viewers of Tara. The character of good brother Jesse is just another reincarnation of Ashley. Pearl even throws a hissy fit and runs from the house. Just like Scarlett did after she finds out that Ashley Wilkes is engaged to Melanie. He even casts GWTW alumni Butterfly McQueen to play her usual dumber-than-a-bag-of-hair post-war slave - er...servant girl. This is a white man's 1880’s Texas, after all.
Oh, Davy! You just couldn't let go and make something new, could you? Sounds like someone you know, eh... Mr. Lucas?
This was anything but romantic to me. Lewt is handsome but spoiled, with a dangerous sense of entitlement. In his mind, everything on the land belongs to him, including Pearl. In the tradition of buttholes everywhere, he dismisses the idea of marrying a 'bobtail half-breed' because he fears for his reputation and the wrath of his racist father. Still, that doesn’t mean that she shouldn’t save herself for booty calls. At one point, he tells her menacingly, "Anyone who was my girl is still my girl." He must keep them all in a basement somewhere.
Despite the fact that she carries a torch for the noble (read: stuffy) Jesse, she is fatally attracted to a man who shares her lustful appetites. She knows he’s no good, but... She Just Can’t Help Herself! With insulting glibness, the movie hints and hammers that Pearl's ‘half-breed’ nature is to blame for her raging libido. Like mother, like daughter. Oh my. How deep.
One of the locals warns other men away from her, and declares, "No one marries Pearl Chavez until Lewt McCanles decides to give away the bride." How is that romantic? And when a woman in the movies has to choose between two men, why is the boring guy always the good one and the sexy one always a dangerous bully?
Part of the problem is miscasting Jennifer Jones, who was the lover and future wife of David O. Selznick at the time, so the casting couch can be blamed for this one. She constantly mugs for the camera. The most annoying mannerism of all was the way she averted her eyes. She never looks anyone in the eye. Ever! Her eyes are so pale against the dark face paint that she looks possessed. She reminds me of that creepy poster for The Eyes of Laura Mars (1978) (http://www.impawards.com/1978/eyes_of_laura_mars.html).
All that face and arm paint doesn’t hold up well under sweat. Near the end, after climbing sharp rocks and fighting for her life, she looks positively orange. In fact, you can have a drinking game and take a slug every time she a) tosses her hair, b) flashes her teeth, or c) sobs, rolling orgasmically on her bed.
The film has no nudity, but there's no doubt what goes on behind closed doors. See, that's what thunder and lightning are for! Or fireworks! I'm actually surprised Selznick didn't add a porthole or train tunnel shot somewhere. His work here is about as subtle as a combover.
Don't get me wrong. I love Gregory Peck, but his best performances were in quiet, heroic roles, such as Atticus Finch in 1962's To Kill a Mockingbird and Captain James McKay in 1958's The Big Country. He just isn't believable as the bad boy. He looks the part, and is especially yummy in spurs - I have a weakness for cowboys - as well as gladiators and pirates. Pardon me while I go fan myself. Ahem. He looks great until he opens his mouth and words come out.
Peck is woefully miscast as a southerner here, but he got it right in 'Mockingbird'. He has charisma and presence, but there's something off. It's like watching Atticus Finch try to play Stanley Kawalski. I admit I did burst out laughing when he started singing, “I’ve Been Working on the Railroad” after causing a train wreck. Ghoulish, but funny.
Don't worry about how long the movie is because much of the feature is padded out by an introductory overture and an intermission. Without those two interruptions, the film is a few minutes over two hours. Just hit 'fast-forward' during these parts and you'll be fine. After twelve minutes of the overture – yep, twelve long, agonizing minutes of listening to an overblown orchestra while staring at the profile of Squaw’s Head Rock against a blazing sunset, our narrator Orson Welles finally tells us the story of the doomed lovers.
When we watched the DVD, my movie aficionado brother – a tyrannical purist who would rather challenge than comfort those around him - insisted that we experience the movie "properly", despite the fact that Mom and I begged for mercy. Nothing doing. With only three more minutes to go, we came to an understanding when I threatened to make him watch The Lost Boys with his eyes forced open - ala Clockwork Orange. But never fear – he will pay... (twirls imaginary mustache) Yes, imaginary!
One unintentionally humourous moment to note is when Laura Belle looks at a photo of her sons as children. A crude arrow is scrawled under one kid, with "Lewt" printed underneath it. The filmmakers did that was for our benefit - wasn't that kind? Or maybe the woman can't tell which kid is which without her notes.
These actors have done much better work in their lifetimes - be sure and seek them out. They give it their all, but even these Hollywood giants can’t elevate this train wreck. Lionel Barrymore, in particular, has wicked fun doing a hammy impression of his Mr. Potter from It’s a Wonderful Life, again with a wheelchair. I used to wonder if he could walk in real life. It's pure camp, and certainly not the epic it promises to be.
I recently bought the DVD without seeing the movie first, which wasn't a losing hand but not much of a jackpot. Luckily, Mom loves old westerns too, so it found a good home.
June 05, 2009
DRAG ME TO HELL (2009)
* * * *
PG C-99m. USA
D: Sam Raimi. Alison Lohman, Justin Long, Lorna Raver
Not recommended for children under 13 or sensitive viewers
Tagline: Christine Brown has a good job, a great boyfriend, and a bright future. But in three days, she's going to hell.
Uh-oh.
The first sentence of the tagline sounds like any standard date movie, doesn’t it? Just about every movie of this type sets us up to watch the Pretty Protagonist’s Picture-Perfect life get derailed by something – whether it’s a romantic or professional rival, a serial killer, or a mere Three’s Company-esque misunderstanding. But with the director of the Evil Dead movies, as well as 1998’s more bleakly thought-provoking A Simple Plan at the helm, you’re in good (bloody, nail-bitten) hands.
Boy, are you ever.
Christine Brown (Alison Lohman of Matchstick Men and Where the Truth Lies) is a nice young woman from the farm who is on the cusp on success in the big city. She has a promising career as a loan officer, with an excellent chance at a much-coveted promotion. Her boyfriend Clay, (Justin Long of the Mac ™ ads) is also nice – and a wealthy young college professor to boot. Is there such a thing? I mean, the guy’s in his early 20s – hardly old enough to drink, let alone wear elbow patches on his jacket.
But I digress. Clay is an affable dude, and cute in a nerdy way. He’s not movie-star handsome at all, but there’s something oddly endearing about him. I’m not just ragging on Justin Long – there’s a point. His characterization is just right, because the way Christine frets over their relationship, you’d think he was a Hollywood hottie. Clay is not out of reach, but the poor girl can’t help feeling that he’s out of her league, thanks to accidentally overhearing him talk to his overbearing witch of a mother on the phone, who urges him to stop fooling around with farm girls and find a "real partner".
Even his own family has an affectionate contempt for him – they don’t understand his hobby of collecting rare coins, for instance, but Christine does. You can see why he’s drawn to this sweet, unpretentious young woman who worked so hard to re-invent herself as an urbane sophisticate, and is still plagued by lingering insecurities of one not to the manor born. The term ‘personal demons’ takes a whole meaning after she meets Mrs. Garush (Lorna Raver, in a campily scene-stealing performance)
Poor, well-meaning Christine. She is compassionate and means well – the latter is actually one of her most infuriating traits, because it’s empty and useless when the damage is done. Like most of us, she truly believes that she’s a decent person and bewildered when she accidentally makes a dangerous enemy. She honestly doesn’t want to refuse a frail old lady with health problems an extension on her home. Mrs. Garush has a legitimate reason for not being able to pay her loan – anyone with an iota of compassion would give it to her, though they’d wear disposable gloves and spray the bank with Lysol ™ afterward.
If she had been a sweet-looking old granny, she might have elicited sympathy and a third loan extension. But not only does the promotion hovering over Christine’s head motivate her refusal, but her very revulsion of this smelly, dripping creature is certainly a factor. We all know that ‘beautiful people’ get preferential treatment in school, work, and the media. Christine is so anxious to get this thing out of her personal space that her natural compassion starts short-circuiting.
Mrs. Garush is a combination of Madame Zolta and the Crypt Keeper. Her nails ooze black blood and pus, and look like something out of the Saw movie posters. Her teeth are dead and rotting. Her dead eye, horribly mangled nails, slobbering gums, and… egad. She – it – is a gargoyle. A disgusting, pus-leaking old toad with dentures and a sweet tooth. She wasn’t just hit with the ugly stick, but bludgeoned with it. I’m a lookist – so sue me. I just wanted to slip on my disposable gloves, give her a good shake and plead, “Would it kill you to put on a little lipstick?” Lorna Raver is a great sport, and deserves special credit for her no-holds-barred performance. She takes a staple to the face like a champ – in fact, much better than Mickey Roarke in The Wrestler.
Our fresh-faced young loan officer is grossed out, but honestly wants to do the right thing, which is precisely the trouble. The ‘right thing’ conflicts with the right thing for her. But if she wants that promotion, she is told that the ideal candidate has to know how to make the ‘tough decision’. She does, and makes the worst call of her life.
A lot of her motivations are insecurity. As girl from the sticks, Christine has come a long way, but she still worries about deserving her good fortune. And that’s the question, really. Does she deserve it? And does she really deserve the wrath of a pissed-off gypsy with the worst personal hygiene since the Greed victim of Se7en?
Think about it. You might surprise yourself with the answer.
Christine doesn’t realize it, but she is a snob-in-the-making. Not that there’s anything wrong with self-improvement or ambition, but as warned by an Indian fortune-teller, she finds herself doing things she never dreamed of. She discovers that she has a grimly pragmatic side, and who could blame her? She’s forced into a corner and fights like a banshee, and just wait until she does. This movie has the best girl-fight scenes since the Kill Bill movies! She’s not Ash (of Evil Dead 1 and 2, and Army of Darkness ), but she’s still pretty groovy.
Sam Raimi doesn’t hold back on the goo and gore. You want shock ‘n’ schlock, you get it, boy. Houseflies… brrr. You’ll never sleep with the window open again. Raimi finds all kinds of ways to exchange bodily fluids that you’ve never thought of before. I’m a girl geek with a perchant for oddball horror films, and he knows the proper beats for horror and comic effect, so I was constantly caught off-guard.
I loved it!
Though hardly a ‘message movie’ – it’s really too disgustingly cartoony to be more than it claims to be – you might start thinking: How good is ‘good enough’? If you’re kind to animals and work hard to shed your unpolished past, can you re-invent yourself as a shiny new version? Is it really justifiable to make ‘the tough decisions’ as long as a) you’re way more qualified for a promotion than the toady who steals your work and b) a frail old woman doesn’t have the power to torture you with nightmares, maggots, and goat gods?
In lesser hands, you’d get a lame version of Richard Bachman’s (aka Stephen King’s) Thinner. The book was good. The movie was just so-so in comparison. But, bless his brilliant little diseased heart, Sam Raimi knows exactly what we gorehounds want and delivers the goods. From the in-your-face title introduction to an unexpected but perfect finish, Drag Me to Hell is both disgusting and hilarious. Raimi is like the Coen Brothers (and pre-Hook Steven Spielberg) that way – he makes the films he wants to make. He toys with our expectations, and is well aware that he has a loyal audience, and they want the laughs and the deliciously depraved, twisted moviemaking that has been his trademark for over thirty years. The Samster genuinely wants us to have a helluva good time.
Don’t worry… he’ll give you what you deserve.
PG C-99m. USA
D: Sam Raimi. Alison Lohman, Justin Long, Lorna Raver
Not recommended for children under 13 or sensitive viewers
Tagline: Christine Brown has a good job, a great boyfriend, and a bright future. But in three days, she's going to hell.
Uh-oh.
The first sentence of the tagline sounds like any standard date movie, doesn’t it? Just about every movie of this type sets us up to watch the Pretty Protagonist’s Picture-Perfect life get derailed by something – whether it’s a romantic or professional rival, a serial killer, or a mere Three’s Company-esque misunderstanding. But with the director of the Evil Dead movies, as well as 1998’s more bleakly thought-provoking A Simple Plan at the helm, you’re in good (bloody, nail-bitten) hands.
Boy, are you ever.
Christine Brown (Alison Lohman of Matchstick Men and Where the Truth Lies) is a nice young woman from the farm who is on the cusp on success in the big city. She has a promising career as a loan officer, with an excellent chance at a much-coveted promotion. Her boyfriend Clay, (Justin Long of the Mac ™ ads) is also nice – and a wealthy young college professor to boot. Is there such a thing? I mean, the guy’s in his early 20s – hardly old enough to drink, let alone wear elbow patches on his jacket.
But I digress. Clay is an affable dude, and cute in a nerdy way. He’s not movie-star handsome at all, but there’s something oddly endearing about him. I’m not just ragging on Justin Long – there’s a point. His characterization is just right, because the way Christine frets over their relationship, you’d think he was a Hollywood hottie. Clay is not out of reach, but the poor girl can’t help feeling that he’s out of her league, thanks to accidentally overhearing him talk to his overbearing witch of a mother on the phone, who urges him to stop fooling around with farm girls and find a "real partner".
Even his own family has an affectionate contempt for him – they don’t understand his hobby of collecting rare coins, for instance, but Christine does. You can see why he’s drawn to this sweet, unpretentious young woman who worked so hard to re-invent herself as an urbane sophisticate, and is still plagued by lingering insecurities of one not to the manor born. The term ‘personal demons’ takes a whole meaning after she meets Mrs. Garush (Lorna Raver, in a campily scene-stealing performance)
Poor, well-meaning Christine. She is compassionate and means well – the latter is actually one of her most infuriating traits, because it’s empty and useless when the damage is done. Like most of us, she truly believes that she’s a decent person and bewildered when she accidentally makes a dangerous enemy. She honestly doesn’t want to refuse a frail old lady with health problems an extension on her home. Mrs. Garush has a legitimate reason for not being able to pay her loan – anyone with an iota of compassion would give it to her, though they’d wear disposable gloves and spray the bank with Lysol ™ afterward.
If she had been a sweet-looking old granny, she might have elicited sympathy and a third loan extension. But not only does the promotion hovering over Christine’s head motivate her refusal, but her very revulsion of this smelly, dripping creature is certainly a factor. We all know that ‘beautiful people’ get preferential treatment in school, work, and the media. Christine is so anxious to get this thing out of her personal space that her natural compassion starts short-circuiting.
Mrs. Garush is a combination of Madame Zolta and the Crypt Keeper. Her nails ooze black blood and pus, and look like something out of the Saw movie posters. Her teeth are dead and rotting. Her dead eye, horribly mangled nails, slobbering gums, and… egad. She – it – is a gargoyle. A disgusting, pus-leaking old toad with dentures and a sweet tooth. She wasn’t just hit with the ugly stick, but bludgeoned with it. I’m a lookist – so sue me. I just wanted to slip on my disposable gloves, give her a good shake and plead, “Would it kill you to put on a little lipstick?” Lorna Raver is a great sport, and deserves special credit for her no-holds-barred performance. She takes a staple to the face like a champ – in fact, much better than Mickey Roarke in The Wrestler.
Our fresh-faced young loan officer is grossed out, but honestly wants to do the right thing, which is precisely the trouble. The ‘right thing’ conflicts with the right thing for her. But if she wants that promotion, she is told that the ideal candidate has to know how to make the ‘tough decision’. She does, and makes the worst call of her life.
A lot of her motivations are insecurity. As girl from the sticks, Christine has come a long way, but she still worries about deserving her good fortune. And that’s the question, really. Does she deserve it? And does she really deserve the wrath of a pissed-off gypsy with the worst personal hygiene since the Greed victim of Se7en?
Think about it. You might surprise yourself with the answer.
Christine doesn’t realize it, but she is a snob-in-the-making. Not that there’s anything wrong with self-improvement or ambition, but as warned by an Indian fortune-teller, she finds herself doing things she never dreamed of. She discovers that she has a grimly pragmatic side, and who could blame her? She’s forced into a corner and fights like a banshee, and just wait until she does. This movie has the best girl-fight scenes since the Kill Bill movies! She’s not Ash (of Evil Dead 1 and 2, and Army of Darkness ), but she’s still pretty groovy.
Sam Raimi doesn’t hold back on the goo and gore. You want shock ‘n’ schlock, you get it, boy. Houseflies… brrr. You’ll never sleep with the window open again. Raimi finds all kinds of ways to exchange bodily fluids that you’ve never thought of before. I’m a girl geek with a perchant for oddball horror films, and he knows the proper beats for horror and comic effect, so I was constantly caught off-guard.
I loved it!
Though hardly a ‘message movie’ – it’s really too disgustingly cartoony to be more than it claims to be – you might start thinking: How good is ‘good enough’? If you’re kind to animals and work hard to shed your unpolished past, can you re-invent yourself as a shiny new version? Is it really justifiable to make ‘the tough decisions’ as long as a) you’re way more qualified for a promotion than the toady who steals your work and b) a frail old woman doesn’t have the power to torture you with nightmares, maggots, and goat gods?
In lesser hands, you’d get a lame version of Richard Bachman’s (aka Stephen King’s) Thinner. The book was good. The movie was just so-so in comparison. But, bless his brilliant little diseased heart, Sam Raimi knows exactly what we gorehounds want and delivers the goods. From the in-your-face title introduction to an unexpected but perfect finish, Drag Me to Hell is both disgusting and hilarious. Raimi is like the Coen Brothers (and pre-Hook Steven Spielberg) that way – he makes the films he wants to make. He toys with our expectations, and is well aware that he has a loyal audience, and they want the laughs and the deliciously depraved, twisted moviemaking that has been his trademark for over thirty years. The Samster genuinely wants us to have a helluva good time.
Don’t worry… he’ll give you what you deserve.
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