Sunday, December 19, 2021

A Christmas Story 2 (2012)


Director
Brian Levant

Cast
Braeden Lemasters - Ralphie Parker
Daniel Stern - Mr. Parker
Stacey Travis - Mrs. Parker
Valin Shinyei - Randy Parker
David Buehrle - Schwartz
David W. Thompson - Flick
Tiera Skovbye - Drucilla Gootrad

Last year, I reviewed as many films based on the works of writer and humorist, Jean Shepherd as I could find. 
Shepherd books In God We Trust, All Others Pay Cash and Wanda Hickey's Night of Golden Memories, and Other Disasters are the basis for the classic holiday movie A Christmas Story. For those three or four people out there who've never seen this movie, it's about a kid, Ralphie Parker, and his quest to obtain a Red Ryder BB gun for Christmas.
As I previously pointed out on this blog, A Christmas Story isn't the first nor the last movie about Ralphie. I've reviewed those other movies on this blog, the last one being the 1988 movie Ollie Hopnoodle's Haven of Bliss
After that, I mentioned I would check out the worst example of a cash grab I had ever heard of - A Christmas Story 2. But I ran out of time during the Christmas season. So, I put it off until this year, Now, the time I never thought would come has indeed arrived.
Released straight to DVD in 2012, when I heard this movie was now a part of reality, I immediately decided to never watch it. Of course, I was lying to myself. Deep down, I knew I would someday. 
I had only seen it packaged along with the first movie. How else would producers get the public to buy it? 
In this sequel, things haven't changed too much during the six years that have passed since the events of the first movie. Ralphie Parker (Braeden Lemasters), who's 15-years old now, still hangs around with his pals, Flick (David W. Thompson) and Schwartz (David Buehrle). His old man (Daniel Stern) still battles it out with the furnace. Mrs. Parker (Stacey Travis) still maintains the Parker homestead. And Ralph's kid brother Randy (Valin Shinyei) somehow looks the same age as he did six years ago while his older brother has obviously aged. 
Ralphie has quite a crush on Drucilla Gootrad (Tiera Skovbye) who's dating the captain of the football team at his high school, or something stupid like that. I don't know. I forgot. 
All of Ralphie's fantasies this time seem to surround her. But don't worry. Those fantasies don't venture into closed rooms. Ralphie hasn't matured that much!
That BB gun he got for Christmas years ago is now an afterthought. This year his heart is set on something new for Christmas - a 1939 Mercury Eight Convertible. As he, Schwartz, and Flick pass by Hohman, Indiana's used car dealership one afternoon, Ralphie pauses to soak in the sight of this desired Mercury displayed in all its dark green and polished chrome glory, he decides to help himself inside the car to see how it feels. 
He begins to fantasize (Ralphie does this a lot in this flick) that he's cruising along with his love interest, Drucilla, nestled up close to him. 
While he's alone in the car with his Drucilla fantasies, Ralphie accidentally releases the break causing the vehicle to roll off its display and out into the street. He gets his pant leg caught on the break release, and rather than remove it, he takes his pants off. 
The bumper barely taps a light post. Yet, somehow, this is enough to cause a plastic reindeer decoration to fall from the light and through the convertible top. He crawls out of the back seat not wearing any pants, and none of it is funny.
He swears to the car dealer that he'll pay the $83 to have the top repaired. 
Ralphie tries going to his old man for help, which doesn't get him anywhere. 
So, he convinces Flick and Schwartz to help him come up with the money by getting a job with him at Higbee's Department Store - the same store from part one. 
After screwing up in department after department at Higbee's, the three of them are finally placed in the store's Santa Claus area. 
Here, they end up getting into a fight with the gruff, and problematic store Santa. And this costs them their jobs. I'll add the Santa in the original was overworked and tired, but not a complete jerk. 
Alone, Ralphie goes back to the store manager for one last chance. The manager rehires him and puts Ralphie outside the store dressed as a reindeer (because the first movie had him in a bunny suit. I suppose they can't repeat everything from part one) to help attract customers. 
Soon after weeks of working, Ralphie comes up $1 short of the car's repair costs.
So, he robs Schwartz of his "lucky buck" and then goes to pay off the damages. But the story doesn't end there. It goes on after he spends the $83 to take a homeless family out for a meal at the same Chinese restaurant where the Parkers had their Christmas dinner in part one.
The 1983 movie A Christmas Story used to be this quaint comedy that many people simply enjoyed around the holidays. That's all it was for me having made it a point to watch it every Christmas season for the last 35 years. Now, with the amount of A Christmas Story commercialism and retail the public is beaten over the head with year after year, the varnish that is the movie's charm has been wiped off. 
Tiera Skovbye as Drucilla, and Braeden Lemasters as Ralphie Parker
in A Christmas Story 2.
No wonder so many people hate it. The other day I saw an A Christmas Story-themed Advent calendar at the grocery store. What have we done to this classic movie? Before watching it, I was sure that A Christmas Story 2 would merely be another piece of schlocky merch with the movie's title greedily slapped on it. After watching it, I don't necessarily think that I'm too far off on that initial assumption. 
Anyone who has read my previous posts on those other Jean Shepherd movies knows my main gripe about A Christmas Story 2 is its claim to be the "official sequel" to A Christmas Story. Again, it's not.
A film aired on PBS back in 1985 called The Star-Crossed Romance of Josephine Cosnowski. Technically, this is the first movie to be released after A Christmas Story that's based on Shepherd's stories about Ralphie Parker. 
After Ollie Hopnoodle's Haven of Bliss, the movie My Summer Story was released theatrically in 1994. It, too, pulls from the works of Shepherd. It's directed by Bob Clark who directed A Christmas Story. It's narrated by Shepherd yet again. And My Summer Story feels like a tried-and-true sequel. It's not as strong as the first, but I still found it entertaining. Above all, it tries to be its own story and make its own comedy.
A Christmas Story 2 only pulls from the first movie and takes nothing directly from Shepherd's works. Even the narration is an impersonation of Shepherd.
Were the original honestly depicts an era in American history often viewed with rose colored glasses, this sequel imitates the slapstick comedy, novelty, sight gags, and jokes from part one.
The entire sequel puts all its effort into being the first movie while thinking it's something different because it's a new Christmas story. There's a gag with Flick sticking his tongue to an air tube only because he accepted the "coup de gras" of all dares and stuck his tongue to a frozen flagpole in the first film. There's a scene with Ralph slowing saying "oooh, fudge" as he watches the plastic reindeer fall from the lamp post into the car. There's the old man yelling even more profane gibberish at this furnace. There's fantasy upon fantasy from Ralph. There's another leg lamp. If I want the humor and stuff from part one, I'll watch part one. 
Daniel Stern, who's not a bad actor, is the worst portrayal of Ralph's dad. 
With Darren McGavin's role as "the old man" in the original, he makes this character relatable. He's an embodiment of everyone's dad. He's an all-American father.  He loves a good bargain. The weight of all things is upon his shoulders whether it's his Oldsmobile freezing up, or a clinker in the furnace. He may be gruff, throw out some choice words in heated moments, but he's dad. Above all, his performance isn't exaggerated. McGavin plays it all very naturally.
With Stern's portrayal, there's no other way to say it. He makes him a cartoonish asshole. McGavin's old man was likeable. This guy - not even close. 
He's ridiculously over-the-top, talks out of the side of his mouth like he's caricature of an inner-city taxi driver, and turns the old man into more of a sitcom character than an actual dad. He's nothing but an exaggeration. 
Being a father can be a thankless job. When Mr. Parker wins his "major award" in part one, it's recognition. To the family, it's a leg lamp that's as gaudy as can be. To the old man, it's a symbol of appreciation. That's something he rarely sees. It's no wonder he lights up when he wins it (no pun intended).
In the first film, the only time the Old Man shows anger to his wife is when she "accidently" knocks his lamp over while watering her plants. When he finds her holding his shattered lamp, he can barely contain his anger. 
"You were always jealous of this lamp," he blurts, scowling in dismay.
When her true feelings of disgust come out, he has nothing left to say but "get the glue." 
"We're out of glue," she says. 
He glares at his wife.
"You use up all the glue...on purpose!" 
In part two, one scene shows the old man yelling at his wife in a grocery store because she orders a Christmas turkey that's 40 cents a pound. In the first movie, he loves turkey so much that he's called a "turkey junkie." I guess he drops his habit when it costs 40 cents a pound. 
But rather than pay it so his family can have a nice meal on Christmas, he refuses and then attempts to go ice fishing to catch Christmas dinner - unsuccessfully. Mrs. Parker ends up buying a fish from the market for Christmas and tells the family their dad caught it. Nothing learned. 
In another scene he yells at his wife and accuses her of jinxing his fishing as she takes over the pole for a few moments and catches a large fish. When they try to pull the fish up through the small hole in the ice, and then snag it with a net, they lose it. The old man explodes in anger as she tries to help. Again, I don't know what else to call him. What an asshole!
One scene that caught my attention has Ralph meeting his dad out on the frozen lake to open up about the car, but his dad takes over the conversation.
I thought we'd get to see a genuine father and son moment - something that doesn't really happen in the first. 
But this scene doesn't go there, and it becomes a missed opportunity to explore Ralphie's relationship with his dad. This is odd as the majority of the narration, which is Ralph as an adult, begins with "The old man."
This scene caught my attention since it was his dad who gave Ralphie the Red Ryder BB gun in the first movie. His dad was the only character Ralphie didn't ask. And his dad never told him "You'll shoot your eye out." I would have loved to see this relationship explored more. 
I'll give the movie credit in its storyline. Having watched the previous movies based on the works of Shepherd, tales of Ralphie Parker with the backdrop of good ol' Americana that is fictional Hohman, Indiana, are what make his stories unique. A Christmas Story 2 isn't much different as far as that goes. 
Daniel Stern as Mr. Parker.
It manages to have that feel. It's faint, but it's there.
Lemasters clearly puts in great effort and energy into his role. He's not bad at all as an older Ralph. His Ralph is certainly more animated than before.
Before A Christmas Story, Shepherd was an established radio personality, having been on air for decades. He was and still is enticing and fun to listen to. His likeable chummy personality and honest humor is reflected beautifully in the classic Christmas film. And his narration in A Christmas Story is a big aspect of the movie's charm and popularity.  
The narrator, Nat Mauldin, the film's writer, impersonates Jean Shepherd's voice in part two. It is what it is.
I didn't realize until the end of the movie that I actually tuned out the narration. It wasn't a conscientious decision. I just tuned it out without thinking about it. Every little thing that happens is not only shown, but also explained. The narration is painfully overdone. And the majority of it is completely unnecessary. Most of the time, the narration is only telling us exactly what we're already seeing. So, why is it there? My guess is to continue reminding the audience how funny part one is.
A narrator's purpose in a movie is to assist in the storytelling. It adds context to what the audience is watching. One of the oldest rules in writing is "show, don't tell." This movie shows and tells...and tells some more.
When Shepherd narrates the original, it gives a little more depth to Ralphie. It helps move the story along and adds an element of interest and fascination for the audience. It works. And above all, it's limited. As Shepherd was popular as a storyteller on radio, it makes sense to bring is personality and voice to the big screen.
In part two, the narrator verbalizes everything and in nearly every scene. Again, it's all because of the first movie, but saturated in the attempt to give the audience an intensified part one like extra, extra cream and sugar in an already perfect cup of coffee.  
The same can be said for all the fantasy sequences in the film.
Each one practically leads to his love for Drucilla. None of these fantasy sequences are funny. Not one! Ralphie may have grown since the events of the first movie. But he certainly hasn't matured much if I'm to take anything away from all his fantasies in part two.
Honestly, the most interesting part of the movie is the damn car Ralph drools over. When the interior and exterior of the car are shown to the audience, and the narrator shares Ralphie's thoughts, my thinking "that's a classic" was the best reaction I gave to the movie.
I honestly think if the writers really made this second Christmas story its own thing, even though it's not based on any specific stories from Jean Shepherd, it might have been a relatively enjoyable sequel to watch despite being a clear cash grab. It would go along with the spirit of Shepherd. But it makes itself rely so heavily on part one.  
I didn't watch A Christmas Story 2 just to be fair before publicly bashing it. I wanted to approach it honestly despite my previous assumptions. 
This movie takes all the subtle, relatable humor from the first one and beats the audience over the head with it just like all the other commercialization of A Christmas Story that has since wiped the gleam and shimmer off the once modest Christmas comedy.
So, I think this wraps up my watching all the Jean Shepherd movies I could find. I'm going to give 2017's musical A Christmas Story Live! starring Matthew Broderick a huge pass. And this time, I mean it.

Sunday, December 5, 2021

Santa Claus: The Movie (1985) - Video Rental Chicken Fat *Christmas Edition*

Jeannot Szwarc

Cast
David Huddleston - Claus/ Santa Claus
Judy Cornwell - Anya
Dudley Moore - Patch
John Lithgow - B.Z.
Carrie Kei Heim - Cornelia
Christian Fitzpatrick - Joe
Burgess Meredith - The Ancient Elf
John Barrard - Dooley

In the catalog of well established Christmas movies, many of them are considered mandatory holiday viewing. Every decade has a Christmas title that has stuck around year after year after year - It's a Wonderful Life (1946), Miracle of 34th Street (1947), White Christmas (1954), Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer (1964), A Charlie Brown Christmas (1965), Santa Claus is Coming to Town (1970), A Christmas Story (1983), Home Alone (1990), Elf (2003), The Polar Express (2004)… the list goes on. And there are several hugely popular titles I didn't mention, which some Christmas fanatics out there will give me a scornful look for not including. Oh, and I'm not forgetting the number of film adaptations of Charlie Dickins's A Christmas Carol. My personal favorites are the 1951 version with Alastair Sim, and the 1984 one with George C. Scott. 
A lot of people fondly remember a lot of movies around the holidays. But aside from lesser known Christmas movies like, say, Santa Claus Conquers the Martians (1964) or Santa Claus vs. The Devil (1959) - yeah, those exist - there's one movie I just never hear anyone talk about at all, let alone claim as a personal holiday season favorite. That's Santa Claus: The Movie from 1985. I used to see copies of this movie on the video rental shelf back in day. And I was curious back then to see what Santa Claus's own movie was all about. I never did, though, until last night. I found it streaming on Peacock.
The movie begins in a small village centuries ago as villagers await the arrival of their beloved carpenter who will deliver gifts to the local children. 
That woodcutter, Claus (David Huddleston - The Big Lebowski), does arrive. As he hands out gifts to the children, Claus receives a happiness at seeing their joy. 
He and his wife, Anya (Judy Cromwell), need to leave to deliver more gifts to the children in the village at the other end of the forest.
Despite a brutal blizzard, Claus and Anya harness their reindeer, Donner and Blitzen, to travel through the forest.
In the middle of their journey, Donner and Blitzen collapse with exhaustion. Santa and his wife are stuck. They huddle together to keep warm.
A celestial light falls upon them. They wake up and are rescued by a band of elves who take them to their magic toy shop in the North Pole which can only be seen by a chosen few. 
These elves have evidently long awaited this meeting with Claus. In fact, Dooley the head elf (John Barrard) reveals Claus's coming was prophesied long ago. 
After they're shown around the elves's toy shop, it's revealed Claus will stay indefinitely and live forever. 
Later, Santa is presented to the ancient elf (Burgess Meredith) who claims the prophesy to be fulfilled. He grants Claus control of time on every Christmas Eve night so he can deliver gifts to all the children in the world. He dubs him "Santa Claus" and gives the magical gift of flight to the reindeer. The other reindeer that famously drive Santa's sleigh were already living with the elves.  
So, Santa delivers presents every Christmas for centuries. His lore among the world develops into what we know him to be today. Th elves even read him A Visit from St. Nicholas by Clement Moore which gives Santa insight into how the world see's him - a jolly old elf whose belly shakes like a bowl of jelly when he laughs. 
As the 1980s roll around, Santa is feeling overworked. Also, the world loves material possessions, such as toys for instance, to the point where the act of giving has waned considerably. This is becoming burdensome for the jolly old fat man. 
Anya recommends he make one of the elves his assistant to help lighten the load. 
One of the elves, Puffy (Anthony O'Donnell) is more traditional when it comes to manufacturing toys. Another elf, Patch (Dudley Moore) is more progressive in that he wants to update the toy-making process.
Santa chooses Patch to be his assistant after the two elves compete for this assistant position. 
Meanwhile, on the streets of New York City, a young orphan girl named Cornelia (Carrie Kei Heim), who's living with a wealthy family, befriends a homeless orphan boy named Joe (Christian Fitzpatrick) by giving him food and letting him sleep in the basement of her family's large house. 
On one particular Christmas Eve, Santa encounters Joe alone on the street and befriends him. He lets Joe ride in his sleigh, and even take the reins.
They happen to stop at Cornelia's house, and Santa takes Joe down the chimney with him. 
Cornelia wakes up and finds Santa and Joe in her living room. She's overjoyed, of course. And this chance encounter solidifies her friendship with Joe. 
Meanwhile, back at the North Pole, Patch's machines produce faulty and poorly constructed toys. Evidently, when these toys break while children are playing with them, they somehow return to his workshop by coming down his chimney. 
Distraught and crestfallen at the number of returned toys, Santa has to fire Patch. But before he can do so, Patch gives up his position to Puffy. 
David Huddleston as Santa Claus in Santa Claus: The Movie.
Thinking Santa is too disappointed to want him around, Patch runs away and heads to New York. 
There, he sees a commercial for the B.Z. Toy Company. The company, headed by greedy businessman B.Z. (John Lithgow), is in hot water and in the middle of congressional hearings for manufacturing dangerous toys. 
Patch goes to visit B.Z. hoping he can land a toy-making job that will somehow catch Santa's attention and redeem himself. 
After some persuading, B.Z. hires Patch. The elf's idea is to create a lollipop that gives people the magic power of flight. Patch creates a flying vehicle, similiar to Santa's sleigh, to deliver these lollipops to all children everywhere on Christmas Eve. 
The lollipop is a huge hit. This gives B.Z. the idea to implement "Christmas 2" in March so more revenue can come into his toy company, and he can continue improving his public image. During Christmas 2, Patch will deliver magical candy canes instead of lollipops. 
B.Z. also happens to be Cornelia's step-uncle. However, the candy canes end up being faulty, too. When they get hot, they explode.
One evening when she invites Joe to take shelter in her basement as there's a rainstorm outside, she and Joe overhear B.Z. talking to his assistant about his plan to end Santa's reign of gift giving and take over Christmas. 
B.Z. catches Joe in the basement, and hides him back in his toy factory. Now, it's up to Cornelia, Santa, and Patch to make everything right and save Christmas. 
Santa Claus: The Movie starts as an origin story, and carries on portraying Santa doing what everyone on Earth knows Santa does - makes toys and deliver them to kids on Christmas. Midway, the movie seems to realize it needs a plot before it completely looses the audiences' interest and attention.
This is an easy movie to make fun of as it easily dives into being campy and overly whimsical. But I want to be fair rather than simply poke fun at it.
The movie addresses aspects of Santa Claus that children wonder about such as how his sleigh is able to fly, how he can visit so many homes around the world in one night, and how he goes up and down chimneys. 
However, a few plot points are unclear. For instance, Claus, Anya, and their reindeer are stuck in the blizzard unconscious when the elves find them. And when they do, a heavenly light shines upon them, from which the elves appear. So, are Claus and everyone else dead? The way the scene plays out gives that impression.
After they rescue them and bring them back to the toy workshop, Claus asks Dooley what the elves plan on doing with all the toys they've made. 
Dooley says their toys have been waiting for him.
"What've they got to do with me?" Claus says.
"You're going to give them...to your children. You have all the children of the world." 
"I won't live long enough for that."
"Both of you will live for ever!" Dooley says.
I was always taught eternal life is more of a situation for the afterlife. So, if Claus and his wife are dead, they're eternity is making toys and giving them away for free. Even if they're not dead, that's their eternity.
Yeah, I know Claus takes great pleasure in giving to children. So, in that regard, it's heaven I suppose. I'm just speculating.
Santa and Anya evidently can't have children of there own. It's hinted at, but not fully explained. When Santa takes a liking to Joe while struggling with the changing world, I sense he's compensating for his inability (or whatever the situation is) to be a father. 
When he meets Joe, Santa seems a little too naïve about what some children unfortunately go through - negligence and abandonment. He acts like he's never met a homeless child before, which is odd considering he's been doing this for centuries. Chalk one up for the "chosen one" who would love children everywhere. *Sarcasm intended.
Another scene leaves me baffled. Shortly after Claus arrives to the North Pole, he and Anya watch as the elves open a hole in the roof. They watch in wonderment as the bright North Star is in alignment with the opening in the roof. As soon as that happens, Dooley, who is looking through a telescope shouts, "Now!" 
All the other elves are gathered in a circle directly underneath the opening in the roof.
The star begins to brighten up and shine its light upon them.
As they "ooh" and "ahh", snow begins to fall through the hole in the roof. 
The elves congratulate themselves for whatever is going on here. And then everyone, Claus and Anya included, begin to dance. The audience, meanwhile, is left clueless as to what this all means. My guess it has something to do with the prophesy. I really have no idea.
Speaking of which, the cliché of a prophesy is already an overused trope, even for 1985's standards. Who chose him to be Santa? Why? And how do they know Claus was "the chosen one?" They just spring it on him. It's such a buildup that seems way too big for this picture. 
As Burgess Meredith looks Claus in the eye and recites this prophesy, telling Santa Claus what his mission in life will now be, I was waiting for Meredith to throw out, "You're gonna eat lighting, and you're gonna crap thunder!" I'm being serious, too. What a missed opportunity for a great Rocky callback that could have been talked about for years afterwards. 
The movie really wants its audiences to notice where the production money went - basically into the sets and constant use of green screen. And to its credit, the set pieces are imaginative and impressively detailed. Santa's workshop looks like a fun place to be in. 
Though some of the green screen effects are poor, the movie manages to impress with its scenes of Santa flying over New York City. Even with the use of green screen, the camera angles are well done to pull off these shots as realistically as special effect techniques of 1985 would allow.   
The story is tawdry and kitsch. It's really nothing but heaps of sugar, with a story thrown in because its customary for movies to have one. It comes out bland in the end.
McDonald's, Coca-Cola, and Pabst Blue Ribbon beer are shamelessly inserted. 
One of these product placements take place when young Joe, pitiful and hungry, peers in through the golden arches painted on the window of a small but crowded McDonald's. Inside, folks are laughing and carrying trays loaded with burgers, fries, and drinks. The camera zooms closer to Joe's mournful face as he watches all these happy folks eating their food and having fun. And we certainly get shots of these happy people eating McDonald's. It's contrasted by Joe's sad expression. Had Joe muttered the slogan McDonald's used back in 1985, "It's a good time for the great taste of McDonald's" to the camera before meandering off down the street, still hungry, I would give this movie a huge pass. That's another opportunity missed. Such a scene could have been one of the boldest producuct placement scenes in Christmas movie history. But, I guess even Hollywood and fast food franchises have to maintain some kind of standard. Anyways, it all just adds to the overall Christmas commercialism that serves as the foundation of this movie, and makes Santa Claus sad.  
John Lithgow plays his business character in such an over-the-top way, it's hard not to laugh at it. And I mean that respectfully. He puts a lot...and I mean a lot... into his performance. While Huddleston plays Santa with loads of sentimentality, Lithgow as the bad business guy is as cartoonishly villainous as can be. The animation is Lithgow's performance itself, figuratively speaking. And honestly, he's perfectly cast for this role. Lithgow is a great actor, and I cannot say his role in Santa Claus: The Movie is an exception. He is still highly entertaining.
In the scene where Patch meets with B.Z., he asks, "Don't you believe in Santa?"
"Why should I," B.Z. says. "He never brought me anything."
"That's because you were probably a naughty boy," Patch says. 
"Yes, I guess I was no angel."
Still, Patch wants to work with him knowing perfectly well B.Z. must have been on Santa's naughty list for so long. That seems off to me.
I'll have to take a point away from this movie for lack of coherent writing.  
Dudley Moore as "Patch the Elf."
I couldn't get invested in any of the characters, not even Santa Claus. Lithgow is the most interesting character. All the rest are paper cutouts. 
Some of the acting felt like director Jeannot Szwarc used the first take and didn't bother with shooting any more takes. 
By the way, Szwarc's list of movies he's directed includes Supergirl, Jaws 2, and Bug to name a few unpopular movies.  
Overall, I found the story forced, haphazard, slow at times, and sappily artificial. But if there's anyone out there who includes Santa Claus: The Movie in their annual holiday movie watching line-up, I get it. I seriously get it. There is apparent effort to make a good movie. It's there. And somewhere underneath the cheesy, cream puff, sugar coating is a small gleam of charm. The movie didn't work for me. Regardless, I can respect any fandom for this movie. To its fans, I say...enjoy Santa Claus: The Movie. Kids, who are clearly the target audience, will surely find joy watching this movie. As they do, I'll watch my Christmas Carol from 1951, and A Christmas Story like I have for the last 35 years. 

Friday, November 12, 2021

Zathura: A Space Adventure (2005)


Director
Jon Favreau

Cast
Josh Hutcherson - Walter
Jonah Bobo- Danny
Kristen Stewart - Lisa
Tim Robbins - Dad
Dax Shepard - The astronaut


When I first saw the trailer for the 2005 film Zathura, it struck me as a rip-off of the 1995 movie Jumanji. Both movies involve a board game that pulls the players into their competition by infringing on their reality.
Little did I know at the time that Zathura is based off a book of the same name by Chris Van Allsburg - the author of the 1981 book Jumanji. That makes sense as both stories are about adventures springing from a board game.
I enjoyed the movie Jumanji with Robin Williams a lot. I also enjoyed its 2017 sequel Jumanji: Welcome to the Jungle and especially the third installment Jumanji: The Next Level (2019). In the latter, Kevin Hart does a hilarious impression of Danny Glover. That's what did it for me!
Zathura, which is a movie that stayed in the back of mind since first seeing that initial trailer, is one I wanted to watch for sometime. I especially thought about it when the Jumanji sequels came out. In fact, Zathura is a Jumanji sequel. I didn't know this until looking into Zathura
In the book Jumanji, which follows the adventures of brother and sister Judy and Peter Shepherd, Walter and Danny (the main characters in Zathura) are their neighbors.
With the movie streaming on Netflix, I finally had the opportunity to watch Zathura with my family a few nights ago. 
In this movie, the sibling rivalry between Walter (Josh Hutcherson) and his younger brother, Danny (Jonah Bobo), has reached a painful peak. 
The brothers, along with their teenage sister, Lisa (Kristen Stewart), alternate living between their divorced mom and dad.
When the film opens, they're staying at their dad's (Tim Robbins) house who has an important presentation for work on this particular weekend. He has to cut their four-day stay short by one day.
After the boys argue with their dad about this, one of them accidentally causes a drink to spill over some of the dad's necessary paperwork needed for the presentation later in the day. So, dad is forced to make a quick trip back to his office to print off copies. 
He leaves them in the hands of their older sister who is still in bed at 2 p.m. Of course, she wants nothing to do with them, and doesn't bother getting out of bed.
Walter decides to watch TV while going out of his way to treat Danny in a cold manner as as his little brother wants to do something together. 
Feeling a bit dejected, Danny wanders into the basement and finds a vintage board game called "Zathura" under the basement stairs. The art on the box cover is styled like classic Sci-Fi comic book illustrations. I would be thrilled myself if I found such a treasure. 
The game itself looks enticing. It's a mechanical board that moves by a chain mechanism. It adds to the fascination. 
Danny tries to get Walter to play, but his older brother has no interest in playing as he claims Danny often cheats in board games. 
Regardless, Danny starts the game by winding a key on the board. This causes a roll counter to spin. Two small tin toy rocket ships attached to an automatic mover inside the board serve as the game pieces. When the counter stops, one of the ships moves that number of spaces by itself.
A card then pops out which warns him to take evasive action as a meteor shower is approaching. Just as soon as he reads it, a meteor shower place right there in the living room. 
Soon, they discover their house is floating out in space with Earth nowhere in sight. 
It doesn't take long for Danny and Walter to realize that the only way to get back to Earth is to finish the game.
Jonah Bobo in Zathura: A Space Adventure.
Before that happens, they face off against a defective robot that has gone rogue, are attacked by a fleet of angry lizard aliens called Zorgons, steer too close to a sun, rescue an astronaut, and then watch as the game puts their sister in cryonic sleep causing her to be frozen solid.
In Jumanji some unseen magical or otherworldly force flowing from the board game spits out animals and other jungle creatures into reality as the kids game play progresses. 
However, in this movie, rather than the game bringing creatures and what not into the characters' world, the characters are brought into the world of Zathura.
I love the idea of a board game controlling reality. And the classic mechanical look and structure of the board game is truly intriguing. 
While the moral of the story is an admirable one, the twist is a surprise. But once that surprise factor quickly wears off, questions immediately spring up. Normally I'm in favor of allowing room for the audience's imagination to work. But even then, the plot points still need to make sense.
Spoiler!
In one scene, Walter gets a card that allows him to wish on a shooting star that's going to pass by the house. 
He gets this wish card after having a heated argument with his little brother. When the shooting star passes, the astronaut feels certain Walter is going to wish for something terrible on his brother. It's implied Walter is going to wish Danny would disappear as moments before he blamed Danny for their parents divorce. 
Walter silently makes his wish, and it ends up having nothing to do with his brother.
The astronaut later tells Walter that he played Zathura with his own younger brother years before. During that game, he pulled the wish card. And as they, too, often fought and argued, his wish was that his little brother had never been born. 
He soon deeply regretted this wish, but never had the chance to pull another wish card. And then he got stuck in the game somehow as an astronaut.
Later, when Walter manages to pull a second wish card, he wishes for the astronaut to get his little brother back.
Walter's wish is granted, and the little brother appears in the room with them. That little brother turns out to be Danny.
The astronaut reveals he is Walter as an adult. And he has been stuck in the game for several years. 
I had to Google the synopsis of this movie for an explanation because the logistics were too confusing. Evidently, the astronaut is Walter from an alternate universe who travelled through a worm hole before they found him. The astronaut does mention travelling through a worm hole, but I didn't put that into account at the end of the movie as referring to an "alternate universe." 
Still, it doesn't make sense because when young Danny touches the other Danny, they fuse together through some magical cosmic force. The same goes for both Walters. 
If they're from an alternate universe, they're two separate bodies. The way the movie plays out makes it seem as though the astronaut Walter is a future Walter rather than an alternate Walter. He's an adult after all.
And when young Walter doesn't wish that his brother had never been born, like his older self did, that changes the future. 
Basically, this ending doesn't seem like it was thought through very well.
It still manages to be a fun movie for the most part. I found Zathura entertaining, as did my three kids. 
Kristen Stewart's character is barely a part of the story. She's as much of a side character as a side character can be. Lisa is comic relief, really. During most of the film, she's completely oblivious to what her two brothers are doing and experiencing downstairs. And then she's in a cryonic frozen state for much of her role. 
While the intergalactic catastrophes and great imagery are exciting, most of the reactions, along with any emotion among the characters, is unconvincing. 
The performances, especially Josh Hutcherson, is lacking. That's my biggest complaint. The reactions and choices they make are unrealistic, which is funny to say in a movie that's completely unrealistic. But if the audience is to believe a vintage board game is altering reality in such a remarkable way, then the performances from the actors need to support that. Sadly, they do so very poorly. 
In Jumanji, there's an underlying story between Alan Parrish (Robin Williams) and his relationship with his dad. In Zathura, that attention is on Danny and Walter's relationship. We explore this sibling rivalry which we learn stems from Walter's bitterness towards his brother whom he ultimately blames for their parent's divorce. What's unique when compared to Jumanji is that an older Walter is brought in to encourage his younger self not to make the mistakes he did. It boils down to two brothers realizing how important they are to each other. They need each other in this difficulty of living with divorced parents. Otherwise, they're just lost in space like the astronaut floating out there waiting for someone to rescue him. This moral seems deeper than the films previous installment, Jumanji
How often have we wished we could go back in time to tell our younger selves not to make the mistakes they're going to make. 
This story deserves more exploration - no pun intended. 
Josh Hutcherson as older brother Walter.
I appreciate Director Jon Favreau using practical effects in the movie rather than computer generated ones. He claims in an interview that using costumes and puppets was much more fun to shoot. 
Zathura took a little time to grow on me. 
When all this catastrophe befalls Danny and Walter, they manage to escape harm. It's necessary that they do because, in the end, they're playing a game even with all the danger and risk involved. If one of them were to get hurt or worse, it would cease being a game.
For what it is, I found Zathura subpar compared to Jumanji which has a lot more atmosphere to explore as the wilds of the jungle spread over town. The game Jumanji affects the whole town rather than just the house where the kids are playing it. 
Zathura limits its character to their house that's now like a spaceship. It's a modern day SciFi adventure on par with those from the 1960s when Science Fiction films reached quite the zenith. Unfortunately, I get the impression this movie is obscured by the popularity of the Jumanji franchise. I would love to see Zathura explored a little more. There's so much more imaginative room to visit out in space. There's a lot of potential for an imaginative sequel or Jumanji tie-in. Danny and Walter are relatable characters, and the galactic scenarios within their home are certainly riveting enough to watch. 

Monday, November 8, 2021

The Wild World of Batwoman (1966) - Comic to Movie #13


Director
Jerry Warren

Cast
Katherine Victor - Batwoman 
Richard Banks - Rat Fink
George Andre - Prof. G. Octavius Neon
Steve Brodie - Jim Flanagan
Steve Conte - Bruno
Lloyd Nelson - Heathcliff

I thought I had seen most Batman related movies out there, excluding the Batman serial from 1943 starring Lewis Wilson as Bruce Wayne/ Batman and Douglas Croft as Dick Grayson/ Robin. I haven't seen those yet, nor its 1949 sequel The New Adventures of Batman and Robin, the Boy Wonder. That stars Robert Lowery as Bruce Wayne/ Batman and Johnny Duncan as Dick Grayson/ Robin. Otherwise, I thought I had seen or heard of the majority of other Batman related movies. I was wrong. I hadn't seen nor ever heard of the obscure shlockfest that is The Wild World of Batwoman until recently.
Oh, by the way, fun fact for fans of the 1989 Tim Burton film Batman, Jane Adams plays Vicki Vale in the 1949 series - the character Kim Basinger played in Burton's movie.
Anyways, no doubt when most audiences out there think of "Batman and Robin," the TV series from the 1960s with Adam West and Burt Ward surely comes to mind.  
It goes without saying that this series was quite an influential show, and helped establish the "Dynamic Duo" into pop culture. During the show's final season, Batgirl (played by Yvonne Craig) is introduced to audiences. Her real name is Barbara Gordon - a librarian and the daughter of Commissioner Gordon.
It was so influential, in fact, that it made some kind of impression on director Jerry Warren. So, he made his own bat film called The Wild World of Batwoman. 
Warren is now known for being a cult cinema director.
I don't honestly know what the true definition of a "cult film" is. Regardless, I feel very comfortable in labeling The Wild World of Batwoman one of them.
Warren directed several other barely remembered films such as Teenage Zombies (1960) and Attack of the Mayan Mummy (1963) which is an Americanized version of an earlier movie from Mexico called The Aztec Mummy. He also directed The Face of the Screaming Werewolf  (1965), Creature of the Walking Dead (1965), and House of the Black Death (1965). 
The Wild World of Batwoman was his last movie until he wrote, produced, composed, edited, and directed Frankenstein Island in 1981 which stars John Carradine.  
I searched quite a bit for this Batwoman movie. I heard it was once featured on Mystery Science Theater 3000. I'll have to check that out!
A YouTube channel I subscribed to aptly called "Cult Cinema Classics" uploaded this truly obscure movie onto their channel recently. And I watched it out of pure curiosity.  
It's worth mentioning there's another Batwoman film I never heard of until researching this movie. The 1968 movie, produced in Mexico, La Mujer Murcielego (The Batwoman) seems more like a superhero movie than Warren's film. 
According to imdb.com, in that Mexican superhero film, Batwoman (Maura Monti) investigates a mad scientist who is kidnapping wrestlers for the sake of stealing their spinal fluid so he can create a "gill-man." 
Honestly, that sounds so much more captivating than what I was fed while watching The Wild World of Batwoman. 
Warren's movie opens with a trio of young women (normally I would say that's a great start to a movie, but here, it's not) performing a ritual to swear allegiance to Batwoman and become "Bat-girls." Two of the women are novices while the third is leading them. The make an oath to obey all rules and orders handed to them "through the channels."
The lead woman then gives them something to drink as a way to seal their vow.
"Now that you're one of us, I can tell we're vampires alright, but only in a synthetic sense. Drinking the real stuff went out with Count Dracula," the lead girl says.
This opening makes no sense as nothing alluding to vampires ever comes up again. There's nothing vampire related, let alone horror related in the rest of the story. Maybe I'm just reading too much into this opening scene. It was lost on me.
One of them asks what's in the drink. 
Katherine Victor as "the Batwoman."
"Honey, mint, cherry, and strawberry yogurt," the leader says. And they all chug down their nutritious fruit smoothie in allegiance to the Batwoman. 
Then the title spins onto the screen breaking their joyous health kick.
"The Wild World of Batwoman" the title reads against a backdrop of a guy chatting it up with a masked woman dawning a crazy hair-do (Batwoman). There's a small group of young women with them, and they're all in what looks like a comfy living room. 
Batwoman maintains a group of women, who call themselves "Batgirls," to act as agents in her pursuit to stop crime around the city. 
These Batgirls hide around the city and keep an eye out for crime. 
Her arch-nemesis, Rat Fink (Richard Banks) has employed the President and Vice-President of a company called Ayjax Development Corporation to create a powerful hearing aid that uses plutonium as its power source in order to acquire unlimited and supreme eavesdropping capabilities.   
With the help of a mad scientist named Prof. G. Octavius Neon (George Andre) and his lame-brained sidekick, Heathcliff (Lloyd Nelson), they want to sell this device to the U.S. Government. 
As it has unstable power, the government orders them to destroy it. But all involved refuse to do so.
The Ayjax VP requests Batwoman to protect this ultimate hearing aid.
Rat Fink, however, uses a mind altering drug on the Batgirls that makes them dance uncontrollably. 
In one scene when Batwoman is having lunch at a restaurant with the VP, Rat Rink's goons spike bowls of soup to get her, the president, and the Batgirls to start dancing so as to slow them down while he steals the hearing aid.
But they're not slowed down for long. The Batgirls ambush Rat Fink's lair in an effort to retrieve it. 
The movie is as dumb as it sounds. 
I wasn't even interested nor invested in the story accidentally.
First, Batwoman's appearance is certainly the worst look that the 1960s could offer.
She wears a low-cut top with a bat emblem painted directly on her chest just about her cleavage. She dresses in black with one arm in a shaggy covering. She wears a mask, and has a hair style that's one incomprehensible mess of hair pointing in all locations.  
Aside from the bat emblem on her skin, and the word "bat" in her name, there's no other connection to anything truly Batman or DC Comics that publishes Batman comic books. The story doesn't take place in Gotham City. In fact, a shot of the Bay Bridge in San Francisco is used in the backdrop during the opening credits. There's no actual Batman villains. There's no reference to Batman. Batwoman isn't actually Barbara Gordon. Well, the audience never finds out who she really is. We never see her unmasked. Nothing. It's a full-on Batman rip off.
The one thing any superhero movie has, whether humorous or dark, is fighting. In the very least, intimidation. This movie has none of that. Even in the final "climatic" scene, I really don't recall any fighting. I do remember a lot of slapstick shoving, chasing, running around tables, and a complete lack of direction. That's literally what takes place. 
When she's not actually investigating, Batwoman and her crew of gorgeous and unmasked batgirls sit around the living room of her comfortable mid-century home. Or they take the party outside and hang out around the swimming pool. Where ever they decide to chill, they enjoy a few drinks while chatting on their wrist radio watches. 
I suppose back then it may have been considered uncouth or implausible for a woman to brawl against on a bunch of men in a fight and win? I'm just speculating here. Batgirl certainly kicked some villainous male backside on the TV series. I don't know what was stopping Warren's Batwoman. 
Otherwise, Rat Fink, Dr. Neon and all the other men in the movie simply try to outsmart Batwoman, but she outsmarts them back. Woo-hoo! If any young girls looked up to this Batwoman as a model of strength and girl power back in 1966, I feel really sorry for them. They were cheated. 
Dancing! Lots and lots of dancing!
Aside from making a comical sexy flick with a lot of girls and Go-Go dancing, I honestly don't know what Warren is trying to accomplish. It's clearly a rip-off of the worst kind. Again, there's lots and lots of dancing. And Warren makes sure the audience is "treated" to several back-side shots of women Go-Go dancing, or whatever they called it back then. Thanks, but no thanks. 
Stock footage from various films are used in the movie. One scene is taken from the 1950s Sci-Fi film The Mole People. Knowing that makes this already stupid faux Batwoman movie even more pathetic. By the way, English actor Alan Napier stars in The Mole People. He also plays Alfred, Bruce Wayne's butler, in the Batman TV series. All these Bat-connections are coming full Bat-circle!  
The acting is blatantly terrible. Lines are clearly scripted. Too much of them are regurgitated with no influx or emotion. 
Other performances, particularly from Lloyd Nelson, is ridiculous and embarrassing to watch. Heathcliff, who's a mindless dimwitted sidekick, is supposed to be the comic relief. I seriously wonder if anyone in 1966 found his performance comical. 
One scene depicts Batwoman and the Ayjax presidents consulting spirits from beyond to tell them where the hearing aid is.
As a deep monotone voice answers back from somewhere unseen, it suddenly breaks into loud, obnoxious Chinese. Again, this is supposed to be the comedy. 
As I mentioned earlier, the 1960s series Batman is what inspired Warren to make his own bat-movie. 
He was supposedly sued for copyright infringement, leading him to change the title to She was a Hippy Vampire.  
The television series' film adaptation, Batman: The Movie was released the same year as this. Miraculously The Wild World of Batman manages to be campier than that. Regardless, this worst of 1966 Bat movies still lingers in the dark, less explored recesses of movie history. 
To quote the real Batman in Batman: The Movie, "Some days you just can't get rid of a bomb."



Monday, October 25, 2021

Monsieur Verdoux (1947)


Director
Charles Chaplin

Cast
Charles Chaplin - Henri Verdoux 
Mady Correll - Mona Verdoux
Allison Rodan - Peter Verdoux
Martha Raye - Annabella Bonheur
Isobel Elsom - Marie Grosnay
Margaret Hoffman - Lydia Floray
Marilyn Nash - The Girl


Back in April, I claimed my fandom of the legendary Charlie Chaplin and his work as a actor, producer, director, writer, and composer all while criticizing his film A King in New York. I said, in so many words, it's a movie made by a jilted Chaplin. 
Back in 1947, Chaplin made a movie called Monsieur Verdoux which doesn't seem to be talked about as much when it comes to his talking films. However, to me, it sticks out above the rest of his work, even more so than his first all-talking picture, The Great Dictator (1940). 
The Great Dictator is a satire on fascism with Chaplin in duel roles as a Jewish barber resembling his famed "Little Tramp" character, as well as a mocking portrayal of Adolf Hitler, named "Hynkel." 
But Monsieur Verdoux is significant for a few reasons. It's his first movie in which he plays a character that in no way resembles his "Tramp." It's also labeled as a "dark comedy" since Chaplin plays a man who murders his wives for their wealth. It's worth mentioning that actor William Frawley (Fred from I Love Lucy) has a role in this movie as well. So, there's that. 
As per his usual genius and impressive skills, Chaplin wrote, directed, starred in, and scored this film. The story is based on real life French serial killer, Henri Landru, who's nickname was "the Bluebeard of Gambais." 
Between 1915 and 1919, Landru is believed to have murdered at least seven women in the Gambais area of France. It's also believed he murdered three other women and one man in a house he was renting in the town of Vernouillet.
Actor and director, Orson Welles, is credited for writing the story for Monsieur Verdoux. The circumstances leading to the movie's production fall victim to testimony between Welles and Chaplin, and is one crazy story in itself. 
When it comes to media outlets versus an audiences' reception of movies, very little has seemed to change between 1947 and now. Even today, media critics tend to love what general audiences hate. It's a common trend on rottentomatoes.com.
At the release of the movie, film critic Richard Coe of the Washington Post called Monsieur Verdoux "a bold, brilliant, and bitterly amusing film." 
Writer Evelyn Waugh, who generally loved Charlie Chaplin, seemed torn about the movie. He said it's a "startling and mature work of art" while also saying he thought "there is a 'message' and I think a deplorable one."  After all, this wasn't the same Chaplin whom Waugh admired during his childhood.
Meanwhile, Monsieur Verdoux sparked protests and bans in various parts of the U.S. By the 1940s, Chaplin's public persona and popularity was marred by scandals and political controversies that were deemed un-American.
That's not to say all critics back when Chaplin's movie was released were praising it. 
Howard Barnes of the New York Herald Tribune wrote "Chaplin has composed what he likes to term 'a comedy of murders' with a woeful lack of humor, melodrama or dramatic taste."
I first watched this movie more than 25-years ago. It wasn't the Chaplin I was accustomed to back then so my teenage self found it boring. I haven't seen it since until a few nights ago.
Chaplin plays Henri Verdoux - a man who doesn't let beauty go ignored, appreciates the innocence of youth, and takes pleasure in murdering his wives. 
Charlie Chaplin as Henri Verdoux in Monsieur Verdoux (1947).
Having worked as a bank teller for thirty years before being laid-off, he has turned to a life of marrying wealthy women, and then killing them for their wealth. He does this for the sake of caring and supporting his real wife, Mona (Mady Correll), and their young son, Peter (Allison Roddan). Of course, Mona is unaware of Henri's double lives and crimes while he's away.
The family of one of his wives, Thelma Couvais, immediately grow suspicious after she withdraws all her money from the bank and then disappears just two weeks after marrying Verdoux whom they think is named 'Varnay'. All they have is a picture of him.
Verdoux is introduced to the audience in a rather grim scene. As he's trimming roses from his garden, black smoke billows from his chimney. Some of his neighbor ladies complain to themselves how they can't put their laundry out as he's been burning for the last three days. Of course, the audience catches on that one of his wives is in that furnace.  
Verdoux is trying to sell Thelma's home when a wealthy widow named Marie Grosnay (Isobel Elsom) drops by to take a look at the house. 
Verdoux sees this visit as another potential source of illegitimate income. So, he attempts to woo her right away.
Grosnay declines his advances, but Verdoux doesn't give up that easily. 
He orders flowers to be sent to Grosnay regularly over the next several weeks, hoping she'll change her mind.
While this is taking place, Verdoux realizes he is low on money. He needs more to invest. 
So, under the pseudonym of M. Floray, he pays a visit to his "wife" Lydia (Margaret Hoffman). 
Though she's bitter with him because his "engineering job" keeps him away for long periods of time, Verdoux convinces her to withdraw her money and valuables from her bank. He claims her money will be safer in the home lest in the financially troubling times, the powers that be help themselves to what she has in the bank.
Lydia reluctantly agrees, and is left second-guessing her actions.
That night, just before she becomes Verdoux's next victim, he stares out into the night through a large window at the end of the hallway.
"How beautiful this pale, Endymion hour," he says.
"What are you talking about," Lydia shouts at him off-screen from the bedroom.
"Endymion, my dear - a beautiful youth possessed by the moon."
In Greek mythology, Endymion was an attractive boy who spent his life in perpetual sleep. And Verdoux finds some beauty in murder. 
With more money in hand, Verdoux returns to his real home to visit his Mona whom we find is wheel chair bound. 
Later that evening, they have a dinner party at their house with some friends of theirs, one of whom is a chemist. 
During dinner, the chemist chats a bit about a formula he has created that puts animals to sleep without any pain.
Verdoux is intrigued by this. But the chemist tells him that he had to cease working on it after the pharmaceutical board banned it. 
Verdoux suggests he could test this chemical himself on a vagrant off the street, much to the horror of the chemist. But Verdoux blows off the comment as a joke. 
When he gets a chance later in his office at a furniture store, Verdoux attempts to recreate that chemical.
Walking home in the pouring rain, he runs into a young lady (Marilyn Nash) who's sheltering herself inside a doorway.
Verdoux is curious to see if his chemical will work. He befriends this girl, who tells him she was just released from prison.
He invites her back to an apartment he's renting, and offers to make her dinner which she accepts. 
Back at his place, he offers her a glass of wine which he laces with the drug he brewed.
As they chat over their meal, the girl says her husband, who was a helpless invalid, died while she was in jail. He starts feeling pity for her, and claims her wine has some cork floating in it. 
He dumps it out before she consumes any, and gives her a fresh glass.
Little does Verdoux realize that the disappearances of the women he's married have attracted the attention of the police to him. 
Detective Morrow (Charles Evens) visits Verdoux to question him. But Verdoux isn't going to surrender so easily.
I wonder if it was uncomfortable for audiences then to watch a comedy about wealthy women murdered
I think my wife's reaction to the movie sums up Chaplin's role adequately. When I told her what I was watching and what the plot was, she said "Charlie Chaplin as a murderer? Seriously?" 
Chaplin has a way of inserting his true self into his roles, and this movie is no exception.
Watching Monsieur Verdoux now, I can't say this role of his is really that surprising.
Chaplin was married four times, starting with his first wife Mildred Harris. He was 35 when he married his second wife, 15-year old Lita Grey. It caused quite a scandal in the day.
His third wife, Paulette Goddard, was 26 when she married then 47-year old Chaplin. And his fourth wife, Oona O'Neill, was 18 when she married Chaplin who was 54. So, needless to say, he loved younger women. 
Those first three marriages ended in divorce. So, I sense the impression there's some bitter sentiment within Chaplin that comes out in Henri Verdoux. 
Chaplin stars alongside and Margaret Hoffman in Monsieur Verdoux
In one particular scene where he's having a conversation with the young girl he brings home for supper, he says, "...I love women. But I don't admire them."
When she asks why, he says "Women are of the earth. Realistic. Dominated by physical facts."
"What nonsense," she says.
"Once a women betrays a man, she despises him. In spite of his goodness and position, she will give him up for someone inferior. That someone is more, shall we say 'attractive." 
"How little you know about women."
"You'd be surprised." 
It's all speculation, of course.
Chaplin often depicts his Tramp character in conflict with the system, or the ruling class. This is the comedy behind the Tramp, and goes back a long way. 
As I mentioned in my review of A King in New York, his silent movie The Immigrant has a scene in which the Tramp (i.e. the immigrant) kicks a pushy U.S. Customs Official in the ass. It was a bold scene to film at the time, especially with Chaplin being a foreigner and making a mockery of the U.S. immigration system. 
At the end of Monsieur Verdoux, as he walks his last mile on death row, a priest visits Verdoux to prepare his soul for death. 
"I've come to ask you make your peace with God," the priest says.
"I am at peace with God," Verdoux replies. "My conflict is with man."
Verdoux is a man without a conscience, who lacks peace with other men because, perhaps, they also lack a conscience. All the while, he isn't presented in too villainous a way.
That conflict is the cynicism often seen with the Tramp,  After all, the Tramp has a reason to be wary and cynical of the world around him as it turns a blind eye to him while pushing him around. It carries over into his later films of the 1930s and 1940s, so Monsieur Verdoux shouldn't be any different.
I would love to explore the character of Verdoux much more, especially as he feels justified in his evil ways.
Chaplin is well known for being a humanist who very often took part in various efforts to assist mankind. On film, he very often plays a character doing just that in some way or another. He helps a gypsy girl in the 1916 film The Vagabond. He rescues the small child in The Kid (1921). He helps a poor, blind flower girl regain her sight in City Lights (1931). He helps the gamin start a new life for herself in Modern Times (1936). And he practically preaches a sermon about wanting to help mankind in The Great Dictator (1940).
So, Chaplin throws in "the girl" character whom Verdoux decides to help. Why? Is it to show that Verdoux does actually have some good qualities about him? Is it to entice a little pity for Verdoux, the wife killer? Why should the audience take any sort of pity on him? Being laid-off from a job someone has been at for years can be devastating and emotionally crippling. It's no justification for the middle class to take down the upper class. This is a story about a struggling middle class guy who feels mistreated, and sticks it to the wealthy class all while justifying himself. "These things have to be done" he claims in the movie. It's a common situation in Chaplin movies, and is likely why Monsieur Verdoux was met with a lot of protest and claims of his being un-American. Or, maybe I'm looking too deeply into this, and it's all just a dark comedy.
Kate Cameron of the New York Daily News sums up well how I felt after watching this movie when she wrote, "[Chaplin] has built his comedy on the Bluebeard theme and has tried to make the business of wholesale killing of prosperous, silly, aging women a sly, rib-tickling joke as he postures and poses before the camera.
But the joke, I'm afraid, is on him....Chaplin has attempted, with inconspicuous success, to mix sentiment, slapstick, comedy and horror."
I wonder if it was uncomfortable for audiences then to watch a comedy with Chaplin killing wealthy women. That's where the horror aspect comes in - obviously.
With Monsieur Verdoux, the comical, familiar Tramp persona can't seem to hide. 
In one scene, Verdoux attempts to sneak up and strangle another wife, Annabella (Martha Raye) while they're both alone on a small boat fishing. Each time she looks back at him, he flings one leg over the other and smiles like nothing's happening. It's typical Chaplin.
Cameron from the New York Daily News claims the heavy laughs are really furnished by Martha Raye, and I agree.
The art of Chaplin's comedy and drama is relatability and emotion. His genius is evident in how he captures emotions both in imagery and music. 
Some of his soundtracks are among my favorites, specifically that of The Kid, Modern Times, and The Gold Rush. 
In this movie, much of the humor is subtle. For instance, in the scene following Lydia's murder, Verdoux sets the breakfast table for two. Then... oh, yeah... he remembers he killed her during the night. So, he puts the second setting back. It's those small details that Chaplin is known for. It calls to mind the scene in his earlier movie City Lights where the slam of a limousine door is all it takes to make a blind flower girl think the Tramp is a wealthy individual rather than his actually being the poor little fellow he is.  
I suppose the humor in this dark comedy is that murder is funny when the right people die, and the guilty party is an otherwise gentle and friendly person.
While the captivation in the story is narrow, but present, the movie drags on in its two hour and four minute run time.
As the tagline reads, "Chaplin changes!" In so much as playing a brand new character, then sure. Chaplin changes. Monsieur Verdoux is worth appreciating in that regard, aside from the story itself despite its semi-slow pace. At the same time, even in this black comedy, he can't hide the Tramp, nor the true Charles Chaplin.

Monday, September 27, 2021

Amadeus (1984)


Director
Milos Forman 

Cast
Tom Hulce - Wolfang Mozart
Elizabeth Berridge - Constanze Mozart 
F. Murray Abraham - Antonio Salieri
Jeffrey Jones - Emperor Joseph II
Roy Dotrice - Leopold Mozart
Simon Callow - Emanuel Schikaneder
Charles Kay - Count Orsini-Rosenberg

I've wanted to write about the 1984 Milos Forman movie Amadeus for years. That's not an exaggeration. Years! But I couldn't form my thoughts into words well enough. I struggled with expressing my opinions in such a way to the point were I felt my thoughts about this colossal film were properly constructed enough. I didn't just want to pick it apart or analyze it. But the only way I can really discuss this movie is to consider specific aspects of how Amadeus tells its story. 
Amadeus won eight Academy Awards including Best Picture for 1984. And it sits honorably at number 53 on the American Film Institute's "100 Years...100 Movies" list, sandwiched between From Here to Eternity and All Quiet on the Western Front.
This movie is so full of talent and genius (words I'm not using lightly) with its style, details, acting, casting, atmosphere, and structure. The history-based fiction in this film is remarkable in the way it's used to express a jealousy so strong it drives a man to madness. 
I've seen Amadeus many times since first watching it back around 1999. I've even watched the director's cut several times. And I've often questioned if I really understood this film enough to write about it. Amadeus is a movie I greatly respect, and I'm going to write about it regardless of me second guessing myself. 
It's a little funny that Francis Ford Coppola's The Godfather tends to sit on the lofty pedestal of film perfection, which I won't argue against. For me, Amadeus sits on one that's a few inches higher. Both directors are very gifted which goes without saying when considering the notable films each has directed. Forman for instance directed One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest, Ragtime, The People vs Larry Flynt and Man on the Moon. Coppola has Apocalypse Now and The Outsiders in his tally of films made.  
While Amadeus and The Godfather deal with two completely different topics, one thing that stands out to me about Amadeus is how intense the story surrounding the character Antonio Salieri is. It's really who the movie is about. 
The stereotype is that guys generally gravitate towards The Godfather, many of whom will hail it as the greatest of the greatest films. Perhaps The Godfather's depictions of strength, power, influence, wealth, and the polished corruption behind it all, so well depicted on screen, is what makes it such an engrossing film.
But the way Amadeus tells its story in such a unique way through the characters and music complimenting each other is absolutely impressive. I suppose it depends on relatability when comes to picking the better movie.

Plot

F. Murray Abraham as Antonio Salieri in Amadeus.
The film opens in the dead silence of a wintery night in 1823 Vienna, Austria. That quiet is broken as the agonizing voice of an old man cries out, "Mozart! Forgive me, Mozart. Forgive your assassin." 
An elderly Antonio Salieri (F. Murray Abraham) is found by his servants, bleeding on the floor with a self-inflicted slit to his neck.
Servants on foot carry him on a stretcher to a psychiatric hospital as the first movement of Mozart's Symphony No. 25 in G Minor plays. One quick cut away during this opening scene shows a ballroom were patrons are dancing to Mozart's score. It contrasts the severity of Salieri's self-inflicted damage with the harmony and uplifting mood of the jovial dancers thanks to Mozart's music, genius and spirit. In pain, Salieri glances up for a moment as though he can hear the music, and it's making things worse.
Night turns to morning. A Catholic priest, Fr. Vogler (Herman Meckler) arrives at the hospital to see Salieri, a classical composer and the Court Composer to Emperor Joseph II (Jeffrey Jones) of Austria.
When Fr. Vogler is shown to Salieri's room, he finds the old musician in a wheelchair, alone and bandaged, playing on a fortepiano - an instrument seen often in the film.  
As the priest tries to encourage Salieri to make a good confession, based on his anguishing cries the night before, Salieri simply tells him, "leave me alone." 
This is my favorite opening to any movie.
As the priest says he cannot leave a soul alone in vein, Salieri barks "do you know who I am?" 
When the priest responds "All men are equal in God's eyes" this is what grabs Salieri's attention enough to turn and speak with the priest, starting with his snide remark, "Are they?"
Salieri glares and shifts the conversation with, "how well are you trained in music?"
Fr. Vogler says he's trained a little as he studied music as a child in Vienna.
He then plays a game with Fr. Vogler, challenging him to a round of name that tune. 
Salieri plays a piece of music that the priest doesn't recognize, which turns out to be something Salieri wrote years ago.
He plays another piece of music that the priest is unfamiliar with. This tune is from one of his operas which is playing in Salieri's mind. 
"Can you recall no melody of mine?" he asks.
Then he smiles and plays another piece, and Fr. Vogler instantly recognizes it. In fact, he starts singing along to it.
"Yes, I know that. Well, that's charming. I'm sorry I didn't know you wrote that." 
With an "I told you so" look on his face, Salieri responds, "I didn't. That...was Mozart." 
It's Mozart's Eine Kleine Nachtmusik
The memory of whom forces Salieri to open up, beginning with his admiration of the musician that began when Salieri was a young boy desiring to be a composer much to his father's disapproval.
The story is told through flashbacks. 
Salieri's life changes after he prays what he calls the "proudest prayer a boy could think of."
During a mass one particular day, he lovingly gazes up to a crucifix. 
"Lord, make me a great composer! Let me celebrate your glory through music - and be celebrated myself. Make me famous through the world, dear God. Make me immortal! After I die let people speak my name forever with love for what I wrote."
In return, young Salieri offers God his chastity, industry, and deepest humility. (Humility - after begging to be loved and honored the world over even after his death. Seriously?)
And then, what happens next confirms in his mind that this is what God wants of him.
Salieri's father, who held him back from what doing what Mozart did, dies after choking during a meal.
Thus begins Salieri's answered prayers. Before he knows it, he finds himself in Vienna - the City of Musicians - where he works alongside Emperor Joseph II as his Court Composer. 
When he has his first encounter with Mozart, what he finds is nothing close to what he pictured his whole life. His first impression of Mozart is as an obscene and indecent "dirty minded creature." He spots him chasing a girl, Constanze (Elizabeth Berridge) on the floor of an empty room, telling fart jokes and making lewd remarks. This is the same gloriously talented musician he admired all his life. This is were the movie really begins. 
Salieri's infatuation slowly changes to his bewilderment as to why God would give a buffoon like Mozart such a miraculous talent. Meanwhile he, a faithful servant who is more than willing to offer God His due praise through music (while being celebrated himself the world over) has to beg for it. 
God answers his prayers, of course. But it's not enough.
This conversation between Salieri and Fr. Vogler begins in the morning. As the film progresses, morning turns into night. And when Salieri is finished, it's morning once again. 

Thoughts

Years back, I had a discussion with someone who claimed the movie was anti-God and anti-religion. That's not quite the case, in my opinion.
This claim of theirs was based on a scene where Salieri, driven by jealousy and pride, casts off religion by throwing his crucifix into a fire. It was also based on the ending, where this person claimed Salieri is made to look like the good guy at the end. 
Really? A twisted and consumed Salieri, who tried to kill himself and is now in an insane asylum, is made to look like the hero? Some people only see what the want to see.
Amadeus, the drama of dramas in my opinion, is based on Peter Shaffer's play, which is inspired by a play called Mozart & Salieri written in 1892 by Russian Playwright Alexander Pushkin. Therefore, there's not as much historical accuracy in the movie as some might think. But it's not meant to be historically accurate in the first place.
I admit it took me a while to really figure out the moral of the story.
Self-centered Salieri, who is a genius with music, allows his inflamed passion for greatness to get in the way of his talent. That part is easy to understand.
His pride and jealousy, and the consistent presumption that God has it out for him, drives him to an asylum. 
God gives him what he prayed for, but he didn't receive it in the packaging (figuratively speaking) he expected. 
So, he views Mozart as some kind of God-made mockery of his own talent, and an obstacle to the greatness he believes God and the world owes him because he made a superfluous vow in exchange for personal greatness. He changes his goal to be a great musician into destroying God's work.
He wants to wallow in his narcissistic stew of anger and self-pity that fuels his hatred for God and Mozart, both of whom he wants to be like. 
He wants to be Mozart because he truly believes he can be better at it. Mozart's music, after all, is Salieri's second love after himself. Since he's not Mozart, he comes to the conclusion that he must then be a mediocrity. 
"I am their patron saint," he tells the priest.
The problem is the praise he receives isn't like Mozart's.
Mozart may be immature, but so is Salieri...even more so.
In one scene, Mozart is invited to meet with Emperor Joseph so he can commission an opera from him. Salieri composes a small march of welcome for Mozart to be played on the fortepiano.
Before the scene ends, Mozart comments how he has the tune already in his head after one hearing.
He plays the tune back, and says in front of Salieri that the tune seems to lack. And then right in front of him and the Emperor, he improves it off the top of his head. 
The audience can see the hatred build on the face of Salieri, thanks to the phenomenal acting of F. Murray Abraham. The seen is capped with Mozart's giddy laughing, which sounds like glass breaking. 
It's a laugh that Salieri tells the priest later in the movie, "That was not Mozart laughing, Father...that was God. That was God laughing at me through that obscene giggle."
The scene shifts to Salieri glaring bitterly at a crucifix on his bedroom wall. He's like an angry and dejected child taking his anger out on God. 
"Gracie, signore" he says mockingly.
The movie isn't an attack on God. It's an attack on want versus need. It's a depiction of how far jealousy can take someone. It's a sketch, almost, of the section in St. Matthew's Gospel that says, "What does it profit a man, if he gain the whole world, and suffer the loss of his soul." Good question! What does it profit a man? And the world is what he was asking God for. He more or less got it, and he wasn't happy. His own hell started pretty quickly.
Mozart is like a very early modern celebrity musician or rock star. Fame can be a dangerous thing to any person no matter what century they live in. Actress Carrie Fisher said fame is obscurity biding its time.
He's incredibly gifted. He squanders his money frivolously. He drinks heavily. He loves parties. He's immature. His passions consume him. He ruins his reputation. And he has been adored and paraded since he was a boy. It's not the first time such a tale has been told about celebrities up until now. But despite all that, to Mozart's credit, he doesn't squander his musical talent. He embraces it and takes it as far as it'll go.
What impresses me most about Amadeus, to the point were I hold it in such high regard, is the way it uses music. Music is much more than background noise telling the audience how they should feel.
Music is used three different ways in this movie. And not all of it is Mozart's.
Some of it is used to convey emotions as soundtracks are meant to do. The Stabat Mater composed by Giovanni Battista Pergolesi is used in the early part of the movie when a young Salieri is praying to God for a gift in music. It was written in 1736 - 20 years before Mozart was born. It's in sync with the events on screen. 
At other times music indicates where Mozart is in his life, either physically or mentally, such as the scene where he performs his Concerto for Two Pianos in an outdoor concert for the Emperor.
Music is also used to show the audience what's happening in Mozart's head.
In the same scene at the palace of the Archbishop of Salzburg, Salieri is in attendance to hear Mozart perform. He has never seen Mozart in person until this point. He wants to read a sheet of music for Mozart's Serenade for Winds to gain insight into how he writes. 
As Salieri looks over the lines of notes, juxtaposed with old Salieri explaining the music to Fr. Vogner, we hear the opening of the piece with an unwavering oboe hanging on a single note until a clarinet takes over, and the oboe fades away. The music accompanies his descriptions. It all abruptly ends when Mozart snatches the sheet music off the stand. 
This way of depicting music is really used when Mozart is composing his Requiem Mass, the text of which brings to Mozart and Salieri a brief conversation on death and judgement, and Hell. Sometimes all Mozart can hear is the music in his head. This use of music provides insight. It's its own character in the story. 
Nothing is cheap nor are any corners cut in this movie. Not one note of Mozart's music was changed or altered for the sake of the film per the request of conductor Sir Neville Marriner (considered one of the world's greatest conductors) whose Academy of St. Martin in the Fields supervised and performed the score to Amadeus.  
Forman shot the movie in Prague and Kroměříž in the Czech Republic. He also filmed some of the movie inside the Count Nostitz Theater in Prague, which is the same theater Mozart's Don Giovanni and La clemenza di Tito premiered in 1791. Filming in the Czech Republic occurred during the nation's Communist era.
I'm really struggling to find fault in Amadeus outside of its historical inaccuracy. The movie doesn't claim to be a biographical film, though. 
Early rumors of a deadly rivalry between Amadeus Mozart and Antonio Salieri where boiled over when Pushkin, mentioned above, wrote his play. But from what I read, there's no evidence proving the real Salieri had it in for Mozart, and that he attempted to kill him.
Personally, I find the historical fiction of the film just as fascinating as the historical facts. 
While the acting is fantastic, especially with Tom Hulce and F. Murray Abraham perfectly cast, I particularly enjoy Jeffery Jones as the Emperor. 
He plays his character as a dignified leader. All the while, he seems to be taken by Mozart's uncouth personality (probably because he doesn't hear subjects dare to say "shit" in his presence ever) and his passion for his work despite the displeasure it causes within his own court. The Emperor is indulgent with Mozart and his work, even skirting his own decrees just to allow him to perform his Marriage of Figaro which the Emperor had previously forbidden
He clearly admires him while keeping on his royal face. It's a small detail in the movie that's full of magnificent settings and atmosphere. 
My God, this film is superb.
And before I forget, The Godfather is number three on that list of 100 movies. 
Anyways, to quote the Emperor, "Well, there it is." 

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