Music As Storyteller: The Importance of the Score of Moon

The Backseat Driver Reviews Posted on by
Moon is one of those films that has so much going for it. Most people focus on Sam Rockwell and Duncan Jones as the major drivers of its success. Jones certainly did his homework (especially considering that NASA had him do a Q&A with them in response to the film), and Rockwell is… well, he’s Sam Rockwell. The world be be a far happier place if we could all dance like him. However, just summarizing the film’s effectiveness with Jones and Rockwell’s contributions completely overlooks another driving factor: the score of Clint Mansell. The delicate arrangements manage to take a good film and elevate it to another level. In fact, I’d go so far as to say that Mansell effectively becomes one-third of the driving force of this piece: the man behind the curtain, if you will, that manipulates the audience to feel more deeply than Jones and Rockwell initially present.
I really can’t be a smart ass for this one.
The film begins with the main piano hook that will resonate throughout the film: a series of notes that gets translated and re-purposed throughout the duration of the film to both keep us with the story and help move it along. Depending upon the instruments accompanying the main riff, your mood will shift. If you’re not paying attention, you won’t realize that this piece begins to toy with you in this fashion. At the film’s inception, the main piano thread serves as a curious introduction to the character Sam running on a treadmill (hello there, symbolism), which then brings us closer toward expectation and discovery once the percussion elements are added. We get a slightly faster tempo when Sam first has the hallucination of the girl in the chair, and it repeats itself again when he sees the girl prior to crashing the rover.
In keeping with the piano-as-manipulator motif, we get several instances of tone and tempo that help us feel a bit more deeply. Deep, low piano notes (singular at first, then building into multiple sounds) when Sam 2 finds Sam 1 give us a sense of foreboding; we can feel the confusion more acutely because the music is appropriate. Soft, sad, lighter notes shape the scene when GERTY informs Sam 1 of the waking procedures; we can feel Sam’s pain more so because the piano is making an effort to be kinder and gentler, as though Mansell is helping break the bad news to us. Toward the end of the film, as Sam 2 has made the decision to sabotage part of the base and make a run for it, we get a more dominant piano – at this point, this is where the piano theme became a metaphor for all versions of Sam. We’ve seen both of them through pain, frustration, anger, illness and mourning for a life they’ll never have, and we finally arrive at a decisive moment where a course of action is locked in. That the piano motif follows both instances of Sam in this fashion effectively translates into the music becoming Sam in both forms: a changing, feeling entity all by itself. We get multiple facets of something that has the same DNA that’s as simultaneously complex and beautifully simple as the clones themselves.
To pin all feeling on the piano employed in this film does a disservice to the mood that the other components of the score includes. For instance, the string section goes many places to help assist the plot. Strings accompany Sam 1 as he works on his model town; they’re with him while he fantasizes about his wife; they build tension as Sam 2 searches for the truth. The strings are almost a type of comfort to Sam 1, for they are with him throughout his tale, a less showy companion to his piano-set theme. That Mansell only has to break out the full-on guitars and bass on few occasions – including the scene when GERTY enters the password for Sam 2 to view the fates of the other Sams – says that he knew what he was doing with keeping his moods in step with what Jones and Rockwell were showing us. Likewise, the inclusion of the light percussion (or, as I call them, the music box sounds), though occasional, creates a haunting, lullaby-like tone. That it plays when the stash of reserve clones are found, and again as Sam 1 is dying in the rover, evokes a tone of sacrifice and innocence, and redirects our feelings. It made the scenes in which it was employed powerful: we’re not angry at the batch of clones, as an electric guitar would have steered us – we’re saddened by someone facing a shocking truth. Combined with the expressions of Rockwell and the unflinching direction of Jones, the music doesn’t make us feel angry at their situation – we feel sorrow, we want to hold both Sams, we want to comfort them. It moves us. Just as moving? The drones and hums that Mansell crafted to build tension. For the life of me, my ears had trouble identifying which instruments were in which key to do this (former bass player here, though out of practice, so I listen for that sort of thing and yes, it does keep me up at night). The low hums and drags of the notes manufactured something eerie and lent a terrified loneliness to the space setting. It was perfect and influenced my mood without having me question it once.
Would not have been as effective without the score.
That’s not to say that every second of this film requires music to help move it along, though its absence created a neat trick with my expectations. Jones does his best to make sure that we’re never left in complete silence. When we don’t have the score, we’re treated to the ventilation system, heavy breathing, footsteps and the sounds of rock being crushed by the rover. When we do get silence, it’s unnerving. The music becomes something expected, and without it, we grow uncomfortable. Case in point: when Sam 1 is checking the status of the machines, and he notices that the video cuts out. Blame it on me being a horror movie fan, but I was expecting something horrible to happen, and the silence did not help any. I didn’t have the score to tell me what was about to happen, and it made me nervous; most films would have placed a sharp string note there. Mansell knew when to give us silence, which was quite clever.
While Rockwell’s performance was criminally underrated (seriously, Academy, fuck you and the gelding mare you rode in on for this one) and Jones did an amazing job with directing something that easily could have turned into a clusterfuck (as the alone-in-space films tend to lose steam once their novelty wears off), it’s just as great a disservice to omit Mansell’s contribution to this film. The enhancements of his score helped solidify metaphor, make the characters more human (including the A.I.), and carried the threads of the story to knit a broader picture. At the end of Moon, the main piano theme plays as we hear the aftermath of Sam 2’s journey to Earth, only swelled and a bit richer. We somehow get the sense that something just will come of this tale. We don’t have to see an epilogue or hear a voice over from Rockwell as to the fate of his character; the music lets us know that it will be okay. We trust what Mansell is telling us. The score thus becomes the chorus that is taken for granted: always keeping us on track, orbiting the film like a dutiful satellite that controls the ebb and flow of emotion. Our moon.
(Author’s addendum: Mr. Mansell pointed out the contributions of Nathan Parker, who developed the script with Duncan Jones. And rightly so. I would be a complete ass if I didn’t say that it wasn’t well-scripted. Beautifully made all-around. We need to get these guys back together — reassemble the band! — and see what else they can come up with. Why can’t we get more cinema like this?!)

Hell in a Handbasket: The Atticus Institute Edition

The Backseat Driver Reviews Posted on by
Let me be upfront: it pains me to write this. I really wanted to like this one. Given, it’s a found-footage offering, but sometimes, you get one that knocks it out of the park. I was really hoping this one would.
Such high hopes…
For a little while, it was plugging away like gang busters. I liked that it was framed as a documentary, complete with footage shot retro-style to make it feel like the action was actually caught in 1976. I also liked that it wasn’t in-your-face gory. Instead, it relied more so on little tricks to make you get jumpy. Moving objects and camera cuts that show complete chaos within seconds are a good way to get me unsettled – c’mon, I grew up on stuff that thrived on those types of effects. Using stories of unsettled (mock) scientists and family members to build tension? Score. Inhuman sounds coming from an unimposing-looking woman? Sure! Animals freaking out over something unseen? I can get behind that. It reminded me a bit of someone telling an elaborate campfire story with props. You may have guessed, but I was the kid that loved to be scared through oral tradition. I was happy that this was following that suit; it wasn’t relying on blood and guts to be scary.
This movie clocked at an hour and 22 minutes. Once we hit the one-hour mark, everything seemed to go bonkers. It was like watching a pile-up: the first car hits, then about 20 others behind it can’t slam on the brakes in time. When I start shaking my head and going, “How thick can you get?” and then groan, “No, please, don’t go this way…” that means it falls into the Hell in a Handbasket category (though I was sorely tempted to compare this one to an orgasm that doesn’t quite get there). It was like a date gone wrong. Here are my peeves:
#1 – Government conspiracy theory
This plot formula and I don’t get along. At all. I was fine with a documented possession, but once someone brought up the notion of “… and the government wants to weaponize it!” I was ready to check out. Here’s my big gripe with conspiracy theories in film: it’s easy to go from, “Yeah, I can see that” to “Somebody needs some meds” in a very short amount of time. I’m not knocking conspiracy theorists at all – just saying that more often than not, the cinematic translation goes awry and we’re left with a blubbering mess on the floor. Anywho, back to the film at hand. Aside from the plot turn I didn’t like, it seemed really naive in its concept of government control of the supernatural. It’s like no one realized how powerful a demon could be. You would think that someone that was dealing with a confirmed case of demonic possession would have enough brains to tread lightly. The film takes place in 1976; you’d think that someone on that team would have read The Exorcist, or at least have watched the film version (1971 and 1973, respectively). How stupid can you get? Then again, we are talking about the U.S. government….
Sure, that’ll hold her.
#2 – The lack of backbone
The scientists had absolutely no backbone whatsoever. Stating that they knew that the real Judith was still in there with the demon, but “there was nothing we could do to help her” felt really low. These people had the ability to differentiate between the supernatural entity and the woman who was being impacted by the possession. It felt like the team was gutless. I really can’t root for someone to win when the well-being of an innocent victim is disregarded. I went from feeling badly for this team to shaking my head and going, “Really, you’re not even going to try?” When I lose all sympathy for you, it’s a bad sign. It means that I’m going to have no problem watching the characters get maimed/killed. I say this without glee; never a good sign from me.
#3 – The plan to transfer the demon into a soldier
Is anyone really so dumb that they think they can control a supernatural force? You think a shock collar is going to subdue something that was born and raised in hell? And yet, that’s exactly where this one went. Using the human test subject of the soldier on the television in a remote location was beyond puzzling (and for that matter, why didn’t the demon just kill everything in the room that way to avoid all the torture?). Pointing out that it hated all things religious felt like grasping because it was never really demonstrated. Cringing when you hear scripture doesn’t convince me – I cringe too, but the last time I checked, I wasn’t a demon. Plus, just what was the thought of transferring the demon into a soldier’s body? Was the thought that it’d be somehow more cooperative? Because a uniform totally works that way.
#4 – The sprint to the end
At one point, I yelled, “Ludicrous speed – GO!” I swear, the last 15 minutes of this film felt like a sprint. Mind you, this is coming from someone who doesn’t run (if I’m running, you’d better run too, because something is most likely chasing me), but even I can tell when something is moving far too quickly to get to the end. In that time frame, we get the introduction to the priest (Priest 101?), the mental breakdown of West, the concept of transferring the possession, and the final resolution/closing statements. That was a lot to cram in, and it wasn’t presented skillfully. And Christ did it feel shoe-horned. I’ve seen incredible short films that accomplished what this full-length feature could not. I shouldn’t be gasping for breath and wondering how I got to the end.
Look everybody — it’s Doctor Who meets The Exorcist!
#5 – Predictability, party of two…
Was anyone really surprised when the demon chose to jump to West? I called it when the g-men started talking about transferring possession. Anyone that’s read at least one book dealing with demonology (fiction or otherwise) knows the signs of scouting a new host. I was surprised at how uneducated the whole thing felt, and was really hoping that it wasn’t heading in this direction. I didn’t want to be right. So when West killed the freed Judith and walked off into the sunset, I let loose an exasperated, “Of course.” Mind you, this was after the tense “we gassed her, so it’s totally safe to bodily replace all of her monitors” sequence. That one was decent, but good lord did the film go right back to the predictable path. I don’t always like being right. I was sad that this one went for the cheap, last-minute scare that we’ve come to expect. You know what would have blown my mind? If the entity had suddenly disappeared; if everyone was left looking over their shoulders for 40 years. That strikes me as more terrifying: the thought that at any time, if you let your guard down, the boogeyman will get you. That’s better than what we got.
#6 – Why was the information suddenly declassified?
It was a big secret. No one was supposed to know. Yet why was the information declassified? Did they figure that West must really be dead at this point and was no longer a threat? Were they trying to draw him out? Why on Earth would the government cooperate with a documentary team? If we’re confirming that demonic possession exists, then what other questions will people have? Are they going to tell us aliens are real? What about ghosts? How about the progress on those psychic abilities studies there? THIS MAKES NO SENSE. Hang on, I have to stop my eyes from crossing…
This is a short list, but damned if I couldn’t muster more to say. I found myself shaking my head after a solid first hour of feeling good about this one. I’m more so disappointed than anything else. I really think I would have been far happier had I shut it off at the one-hour mark. I could have envisioned a different ending and pretended that this whole thing hadn’t happened.

Happy Independence Day!

The Backseat Driver Reviews Posted on by

Here in the States, it’s a holiday. So, I’m taking the day off. (The case of shingles doesn’t help either. Need sleep.)

We’ll be back on Monday with The Atticus Institute, a look at Clint Mansell’s contribution to Moon, and a recommendation for a snappy drag movie. Have fun!

Weekend Movies: Five Reasons to Watch The Butcher, The Chef and The Swordsman

The Backseat Driver Reviews Posted on by
Every so often, I stumble across something so strange that I can’t help but ask other people if they’ve seen it. The Butcher, the Chef and the Swordsman falls into that category. It’s weird – not bad, just… weird. I can’t keep this one to myself. I think you should watch this. It’s like The Ring –  I need to inflict it on someone else. Five reasons to watch it this weekend:
Buckle in, this is a weird one.
#1 – It has a bizarre sense of humor
When I have to ask the person next to me if I’m drunk – and they remind me that I haven’t had a drop to drink all night (and go so far as to remind you that it’s not possible as you don’t drink) – you know that you’re watching something beyond wacky. Really, wacky is the most accurate term for this film’s sense of humor. Between the music (including a rap number), camera cuts, strange conversations/pantomimes, diagrams, video game fights, and slapstick comedy, it’s hysterical in how delightfully strange it is. It does seem like a bit much at first, but if you relax and steer into the skid, you’ll have a good time.
#2 – Masanobu Ando
I have a soft spot for this actor. He can turn on terrifying when the role calls for it, and he can also switch to wounded just as easily. His performance as a mute character relies heavily on facial expressions and attempts at body language to convey his points. It works. He’s easily the best performance of the film. Considering some of the other things he’s been in – Battle Royale, Big Bang Love: Juevenile A – it’s nice to see him in something that is more light-hearted by comparison that allows for him to be something other than completely psychotic. Considering that he’s the only Japanese actor in an all-Chinese production, that’s pretty amazing as well.
This does not mean what you think it means.
#3 – Three intertwined stories for the price of one
Fair warning: this film is a little ADHD in the beginning. Okay, it’s a lot ADHD at the beginning. We start
with a mish-mash of stories all thrown together, which then morphs into a frame story of Chopper the butcher, who wants to win the heart of prostitute Madame Mei. In order to do this, he has to defeat the swordsman Big Beard. To accomplish this, he pursues the cleaver used by the Mute. It does move in a logical progression after a while, and you get to see how all stories are interrelated. There’s backstory within backstory. Like Inception, with good food (minus the insane wife).
#4 – There’s a nice message in there about the use of blades
There’s weaponry and fighting in this film – however, that’s not the only purpose the cutlery serves. There’s a nice point that’s made about the origins of the cleaver, and what its purpose should be in the world. It’s sweet and optimistic, which, given current events, might serve as a nice escape.
Not your average sword… sort of…
#5 – The exploration of love is pretty good too
Films often function under the assumption that the only kind of love out there worth filming is romantic love, and that’s simply not true. In this film, we get many different versions of it: unrequited romantic love, enduring romantic devotion, love of your vocation, brotherly protection, mentor/student bond, the desire to see one’s friends happy. It’s nice to see that the different facets of the love experience get equal representation as well.
There you have it. Good luck – it’s a strange one, but worth the ride.

The Human Monster: The Most Terrifying Part of Incident On and Off a Mountain Road

The Backseat Driver Reviews Posted on by
Horror often doesn’t get the credit it deserves. True, there’s usually some slicing and dicing going on, but at its core, horror stares into what makes us afraid and articulates those fears as something we can see and, ostensibly, face. Most of the time, our fears take the form of the supernatural or monstrous that must be overcome. The Masters of Horror series on Showtime did a great job with making our fears into actual boogeymen, from the need to reclaim a sense of feeling and human connection (Chocolate) to abortion (Imprint, Pro-life – both of which will get a deconstructive treatment at a later date) to homophobia (Sick Girl). Some are better than others, but the one that sticks out for me is Incident On and Off a Mountain Road. The story draws a stark comparison between the deformed psychopath Moon Face (John DeSantis) and husband Bruce (Ethan Embry), using the contrast to amplify that the more horrifying monster is the abusive human husband.
Sorry, this isn’t going to be the worst thing that happens to you.
This one is not too difficult to unpack. Based on a short story by Joe R. Lansdale (the same mind that brought us Bubba Ho–Tep), it’s a very good adaptation of source material thanks in part to the co-writing efforts of Don Coscarelli and Stephen Romano. It’s well-scripted and fluid: Ellen (Bree Turner) attempts to fend off Moon Face after stumbling across him in the wild. In between her use of survival techniques to ultimately dispatch her pursuant, we get flashes of Ellen’s life with Bruce. Bruce demonstrates survivalist tendencies and an unhealthy need for power early on: he’s verbally aggressive on their first date, which seems to be a turn-on for Ellen. Despite that our crazy meters are going off and we’re mentally yelling for Ellen to run back to town like it’s free donut day at Dunkin, she still hitches her cart to Bruce. He begins getting critical: her shooting’s not good enough; she’s not taking their training seriously; she needs to be prepared for when the world goes to hell in a handbasket. He also begins physically isolating her from friends and the general population, and effectively cuts off the dialogue when she attempts to tell him that his behavior is scaring her. When she’s finally had enough and decides that she wants out of the marriage, he beats her and rapes her, telling her, “You’re acting like a fuckin’ whore, I’m gonna fuck you like a whore.” Here we have it, folks: the oldest way to cut a woman down. When Ellen won’t behave like a good little possession, Bruce refers to her as a whore and fucks her without consent. Strips away all worth, all feeling, all sense of esteem and self and reduces her to a supposedly dirty creature that you can pay to do anything you bodily want, disregarding her consent and agency of her own body. If we hated Bruce before, we really hated him immediately after this incident. Moon Face just wants to kill Ellen and make her part of his collection; Bruce wants to own and demean her. From the perspective of a woman, Choice B is infinitely worse because it breaks us down into something we never want to be: powerless victims that blame ourselves for getting into this mess in the first place. Sometimes, the worst that can happen is someone you start out loving taking away all control over yourself and invading you in every painful way possible.
By the way, in reference to the rape scene: does the storm look familiar? It’s the same style lightning storm from their first sexual encounter, where Bruce flips Ellen onto her back after a brief interlude of her dominating on top. Their sexual relationship, in a sense, begins and ends with a struggle for dominance. (A quick side note: in the short story, Lansdale has Ellen tie Bruce up in a set of sheets while she unintentionally beats him to death as punishment for his transgressions. That we get to see Ellen choke the life of out him with a belt is incredibly satisfying for the audience. Can’t tell you how many rape victims and families of rape victims that would like to take a crack like that against an attacker.)
Ethan Embry’s portrayal of Bruce really made this one for me. Allow me to fan-girl for a moment: he can easily slip in and out of every role he touches, and damn have there been some good roles that could easily get associated as being him. When he acts, I don’t see Ethan Embry – I see the character that’s wearing his skin, the nuances of a character with his own motivations/hopes/fears, and that’s a fine place toa arrive as an actor. Okay, fan girl switch is off now. Here’s what works in this piece: his Bruce starts off as a guy that’s a bit overly passionate about sociopolitical issues but also demonstrates some signs of self-deprecation and caring, and as an audience, we buy this based on body language and facial expressions. We can understand a bit why Ellen would write this behavior off (especially if you have that one family member that’s a bit too passionate about politics but is otherwise fine to be around), even though we’re uneasy as an outsider looking in (because HORROR STORY). The fact that Embry looks like the Everyman made him all the better for the part: he didn’t look overtly nutty – he wasn’t the classic creep you’d expect to systematically subject his wife to mental abuse; he’s rather normal in this respect, as most abusers tend to appear. Had this been someone more broody or physically imposing, Ellen probably would have bolted immediately; instead, we get a cute guy that looks pretty harmless. When Bruce proposes, we see joy on both their parts, proving that there’s something feeling in there. When he shows that he’s obsessed with weaponry, the facial expressions become all-consumed and deathly serious; this alarms us, as it’s supposed to. As he barks out, “I know you have potential. I will not let you prove me wrong,” he’s conveying that it’s not about Ellen; he doesn’t want her to succeed as much as he wants to be right. It wasn’t the survival techniques that mattered to him at all: it was his ability to control Ellen and her progress. That message was very clear for me, and with another actor, I fear that it would have been lost. We thus watch him go from someone who has some weird tendencies to someone who’s a controlling bastard, and he looks just like your dad, brother or boyfriend. We get to see how the cycle of abuse starts and progresses for this victim. By the time the rape rolls around, we’re cringing because we know what’s coming before he makes his declaration of intent: it fits the pattern of escalating control, and he demonstrates it through body language. We’re scared right along with Ellen. We actively hate Embry’s Bruce because in that moment he presents Bruce as someone we know, and by this association, we are vulnerable to the same abuse to which Ellen is subjected. To make me hate you in an instant? That’s someone who knows his stuff right there.
*slow clap*
By the end of the installment, it’s rather clear that what Bruce subjected Ellen to is far worse than what she triumphed over with Moon Face. She faced a pattern that so many men and women face every day: the charming falling in love phase, the isolation, the verbal abuse, and finally, the physical and sexual violence. Luckily enough, Coscarelli and Romano adapted the short story well and directed an even better actor. I’m reminded of Margaret Atwood’s famous quote when I think of this piece: “Men are afraid that women will laugh at them. Women are afraid that men will kill them.” Incident On and Off a Mountain Road exemplified this notion. Women (and some men) are afraid that the men in their lives will demean and kill them; it’s up to us to fight back when we need to. Coscarelli seems to indicate that yes, we all have it in us to defend ourselves. In this incident, the fear is faced and conquered on two occasions, despite that our heroine is a bit worse for the wear. If Ellen can make it through, there’s hope for us yet.

In Defense of the Dad: Gender in What To Expect When You’re Expecting

The Backseat Driver Reviews Posted on by
It takes a lot to get me to like a romantic comedy. Of the ones I do like, Steel Magnolias is coming to mind, and that’s due in part to a.) the sarcasm of Olympia Dukakis and b.) the promise of dead Julia Roberts. So when I find a romantic comedy that doesn’t bug the living shit out of me, I consider it a good day. From a feminine perspective, I loved the various emotions that got exposed as part of the pregnancy and childbirth process in What to Expect When You’re Expecting, despite that I desperately wanted to hate it. I loved that there was a character that had a pregnancy from hell; as someone that went through a pregnancy that saw eight months of morning sickness, I was thrilled to death that someone showed an expectant mom struggling, that it’s not all rainbows and magical belly goodness. However – and there’s always a “however” with me – I was irked by the portrait of dads. The concept of fatherhood totally got shafted in this one. Specifically, the Dude Group and the characters Evan and Marco. While the former reinforced the idea that all dads are just lovable morons that are lucky to have still-living children at the end of their watch, the latter two characters tried desperately to get more involved in the pregnancy and were marginalized by a partner.
I made this face too, dude.
Let’s start with the Dude Group. While meant to provide comic relief and a dose of honesty, it really came off as portraying the sample of fathers as incompetent buffoons. While it starts off as a support group, it feels more like a non-stop venting session of the worst of fatherhood. We see the henpecked Craig (Thomas Lennon, whom I have loved since The State) declaring of parenthood to a prospective dad, “This is the side where happiness goes to die.” Craig is forced to pronounce his son’s name differently on the sly in order to appease his wife, a woman that points out how attractive other men are in front of him. He declares at one point, “I am a lackluster husband, but an above average father.” Think about that: this guy is so beaten down that he sells himself short on his relationships. It’s one thing to be self-aware: if you know this about yourself, then change it to make your life better. However, in this instance, we see so much social rejection that we can’t help but pity Craig. Craig will never try to be better because he feels he’ll fail at every turn, and that’s just sad. Besides, if the gender roles were flipped, we’d be screaming “asshole” at his partner and friends faster than anyone’s business. As if that’s not bad enough, we also get Vic (Chris Rock), a largely unobservant dad whose quips everyone delights in. He’s got an accident-prone kid that takes more falls than anyone in the movie, which, while I can understand accident-prone, comes off as a stretch for more laughs than the true nature of parenthood. There’s no slow-motion moment that parents experience along the mental lines of, “Oh, shit, I’m not going to catch him in time, that’s going to leave one hell of a bruise.” The audience only sees the presentation of a kid getting into all sorts of trouble as funny, and a reflection that there’s simply nothing the father can do, so just laugh and go along with it. On top of it, there’s a stark gender divide in Vic’s views of parenthood. Vic has such wonderful gems as,”Women pretty much control the baby universe” and “When your wife says you’re looking at a house, you’re buying a house.” While it’s nice to see women getting some recognition as leaders, well, it feels uncomfortable with the way it’s phrased. The implication is that you must do as your wife says at all times lest you upset the applecart. I’m not a follower of the “happy wife, happy life” mantra – I think it should be a partnership, and like it or not, there will be times when neither of you is thrilled to death. You don’t always get your way, and you don’t get to pitch a tantrum when your spouse says no. So this type of phrasing makes me uneasy because it implies that women run the house and family with zero input from the menfolk, which goes against every shred of equality that we’ve fought for. We want to be equals, not dictators, and this representation isn’t helping.
Not doing the stereotypes any favors.
The Dude group also worships Davis (Joe Manganiello), the guy who represents what they all want: to be the stereotype of a man’s man. Davis is that chiseled, attractive (to most – sorry, gang, not digging Joe) man that lands the hot babes and travels the world without a care. He’s got a cool job and no nagging wife or crying children to drag him down. Davis represents the glory days for the Dudes. Davis, though, tells them, ” You guys are the ones living the real dream.” Davis wants children, and comes to the group for aid when he learns that he’s a father. When Vic tells him to walk with them, he exclaims, “But I run!” Here’s the thing: any parent will tell you that you need your running shoes on. Walking is a thing of the past. As soon as your kids start moving, get your sneakers on because those little people move fast.
When Alex (Rodrigo Santoro) calls the group out on their venting and how miserable they all seem, they all proclaim that they love their lives, especially their children. I don’t know about anyone else, but I wasn’t entirely convinced of this. This is in complete conflict with the messages they’ve sent earlier. I get venting about stress, but at some points, the subtle actions – the tough-guy hero-worship, the complaining about partners, the low self-esteem – seem to say unhappiness. There was not one nice thing said about fatherhood up until Alex’s anxiety about becoming a dad came to a head. To brush it all off as a “yeah, but we didn’t mean it” vibe felt cheap to me, and really pissed me off. I didn’t like that they presented themselves as a joke. Dads are allowed to feel anxious, scared and stressed. Own it. These guys didn’t own it.
On the flipside of this, we have Evan (Matthew Morrison) and Marco (Chase Crawford), both prospective fathers that get lost in the shuffle. Evan is a dad that tries very hard to be an active part of his child’s life and is met with hostility, while Marco attempts to be as supportive as he can during an unplanned pregnancy. I can honestly say that I know more Evans and Marcos than I do Dudes: the guy who goes to every appointment, wants to make decisions together, and is simultaneously scared and genuinely pumped for the experience. However, the partner each gets paired with is a woman that treats his experience as an afterthought. Evan is paired with Jules (Cameron Diaz), who comes off as a micromanaging beast (which is just as unfair to the audience, as it stereotypes women who love their career into this category). Evan is constantly overridden in his desires for the pregnancy: when he wants a delivery room gender surprise, he’s told,”The pregnancy was surprise enough.” When there’s friction over the possibility of circumcision and his partner’s unwillingness to slow down, he’s met with proclamations of, “Sometimes I think this might be so much easier if I did this by myself.” What’s his response when Jules goes into early labor? He flies to be by her side and tells her, “I don’t want to be right, I don’t want to win. I just want our baby to be safe.” THIS GUY. I am lucky enough to know more men that think like this. Now here’s where I get upset: instead of having a moment where the character Jules grows and learns how to compromise, the script suddenly has her delivering a baby girl, thereby removing the circumcision issue. What happens from there? She names the baby herself and then asks if it’s okay. This character has learned nothing when there was a chance to demonstrate that couples can indeed compromise on important issues. Very poor writing there. And Marco? Yeah, while he was visibly crushed when his partner miscarried, we never once got to see what he was feeling. This was a missed opportunity, because there’s still taboo when it comes to the subject of miscarriage. Women are starting to feel less ashamed and are talking about it more and more, but it’s still difficult. It would have been nice to have rounded out the discussion with how the father feels during this. I’ve talked with dads that have gone through miscarriages, and they often feel that they can’t voice their sorrow, despite that they’re broken from the experience. The fact that these men have lost a child as well shouldn’t be ignored, and pushing Marco’s experience completely to the side made me cringe because it was a wasted opportunity to talk about something that still has a way to go in terms of holding less social stigma.
Missed opportunity right there.

 

Where does this leave us? To be honest, I’m not sure. This movie certainly tried to frame male parenthood in a comical manner, but it came off as so much complaint that I felt like it was a thinly-veiled rage fest while longing for the good ol’ days. On the other hand, we did get a few examples of a dad that wanted to be pesent, that wanted to be part of the important decisions and that wanted to support his partner in any way he could. Those dads got overruled and belittled any chance they could, whether via strong personality archetype or the need to demonstrate a grieving mother. This cinematic treatment isn’t fair to fathers. They can make mistakes, feel scared and embrace the unknown of the experience; so do moms. They’re allowed. But we need to stop pretending that dads are only there for comic relief, and that only women know what they’re doing. That sells both genders short, and it’s a social concept that needs to change. The dads out there deserve better than what they got in this film.

Saturday Shorts: Wheelchair Rebecca

The Backseat Driver Reviews Posted on by
Anyone that either knows me or has been reading this blog knows that I have a, shall we say, different sense of humor. Offbeat is probably the more appropriate term. Think Peter Jackson’s Dead Alive – that’s a fine example of where my humor goes (best exchange in that film: “Your mother ate my dog!” “… not all of it.”). That being said, some will undoubtedly be put off by my first offering in this series. A classic story of a little girl that wants to know how her favorite doll became wheelchair-bound. Ladies and gents, I present to you Wheelchair Rebecca:
Claymation: check. Doll sex: check. Alien anal probe gone wrong: check. Funny running gag of a twitching arm: check.
This one has the element of surprise going for it. The first time I watched it, I was expecting to hear the mother’s answer as “car accident” or “illness” with some sort of weird twist. Nope. I love how the first jump that the mom makes is rough sex. The funny part is that this gets a curious reaction from the kid. It’s the drug abuse and alien abduction that causes the horrified reaction. It’s okay if she has sex, but it’s not okay if she’s accidentally disabled by aliens. This is a flip from the usual formula of female sexual activity: we’re normally viewed as being punished for the act outside of certain norms. While in theory Rebecca does get punished, there’s an expression of a lack of social stigma. Go figure, there’s a hint of depth in the inappropriate joke.
The best part for me is the calm, nostalgic tone of the mother’s voice. “Or horse, as we used to call it” always manages to make me laugh. It doesn’t matter how out-there her theories are: mom kind of gets lost in her own thoughts and trails off. She’s like June Cleaver on Quaaludes. It’s almost endearing. Almost.
This one gets funnier after multiple viewings. I’m always surprised at how many people have not heard of this one. So, this is my gift to you. Happy Saturday.

New Blog Series

The Backseat Driver Reviews Posted on by

Trial run for the next few weeks: I’m going to do a short film recommendation on Saturdays. Nothing too wordy — mostly just to share some good stuff I’ve encountered. If I like it, or if you like it, I’ll stick with it. The first one launches tomorrow at some point. Hope you enjoy!

Weekend Movies: Five Reasons to Watch Lo

The Backseat Driver Reviews Posted on by
Lo is a different gem altogether: it’s not the prettiest, or the most ground breaking, but damn is it fun to watch due to its refreshing form. It tells the story of a man named Justin (Ward Roberts) that summons the demon Lo (Jeremiah Birkett) to retrieve his kidnapped girlfriend, April (Sarah Lassez), from Hell. As Justin matches wits with the demon in a bid to find his beloved, we’re treated to other demons and a steadfast refusal to give up in the face of damning evidence that April wasn’t what she seemed. It’s delightfully different. Here are five reasons to give Lo a shot this weekend.
Yup, that’s a demon smoking.
#1 – The movie knows how to do silence
The first few solid minutes of this film are completely silent. No music, no speaking – nothing. Director Travis Betz managed to create mood rather than boredom. Well-played, sir. Not an easy task to accomplish. Worth a view for the neat trick.
#2 – The setting technique is pretty cool
There really isn’t a ton in the way of sets. We’re used to seeing films with lots of locations that are made to look like real life. It helps us get lost in the action. Lo does not pretend that it’s going anywhere: Justin is in a circle conjuring a demon in darkness, and Betz keeps it that way. The flashbacks are accomplished through a charming use of obvious, painted stage sets, complete with comedy and tragedy masks. I have to admit, this one made me smile because it didn’t knock itself over trying to do the best flashbacks ever. It settled for imperfect, and it had a great impact.
Budget constraints? Pffft.
#3 – The demons are brutally honest and funny as hell
Lo is pretty fucking funny. A consummate smart ass, Lo admits to lying as part of its demon nature, and pulls out all the stops to remind Justin at every turn that, were it not for the protective circle, he would be on the menu. Lo doesn’t pull punches and isn’t afraid to make a joke, which makes the truths it tells equal parts scathing and bearable. Jeez, another demon, is more so fascinated with Justin, but equally brutal in its honesty during their conversations. The back up band doesn’t hurt either. Yes, you read that correctly.
#4 – Cheesy special effects
You know what makes me smile? Imagination that clearly does not have the budget to match its ambition. For what it’s worth, the makeup of the demons is good. Some of the effects, like Jeez’s eyeballs, aren’t as well-executed. And that’s okay. Sometimes, I need to be reminded that it’s not a contest to see who can do the most realistic decapitation. For a low-budget indie film, I’m willing to give a pass if it’s got other redeeming qualities. This one gets that pass from me.
Surprising how far lighting will take you.
# 5 – The parting look
This one look made the entire movie for me. You will know when you see it. If you can get my heart to break with one look, that’s worth at least a slow clap. That, my friends, is a sign that something went fantastically right. Anyone that’s been on the giving or receiving end of that look will get it. It’s been a sticking point for me.
This one is a rental, as I haven’t quite nailed down where to stream it. However, the clever folks (far more clever than yours truly) will think of something… Enjoy….

Hell in a Handbasket: Mortal Kombat Edition

The Backseat Driver Reviews Posted on by
When this one came out, I was a teenager and I didn’t get to see it opening weekend. I was bummed, but then heard from multiple people that I was wise not to waste my money on it. So, naturally, I had to sit down recently to see it. It was bad. So very, very bad. Not even deliciously bad. We’re talking bad bad. When my husband has to stop and ask me, “Are you okay? You look kind of pissed,” one knows that it’s time to do a scathing write-up.
Don’t look at me that way. I’m still mad at you.
You know the drill. Here’s all the shit I couldn’t stand with this one.
#1 –Shang Tsung’s overly manscaped eyebrows and ridiculous facial expressions
I get it, the dude’s evil. Shaping someone’s brows that noticeably to achieve a villainous look and contorting your face into a constant “something smells” expression is a throwback to vaudeville. All he needed was a handle bar mustache and the hat/trench coat combo and he’d be Dishonest John from Beany and Cecil. Between the horrible eyebrows and the snarky villain facial contortions, it felt so cartoonish that I couldn’t take it seriously. It couldn’t even take it as a joke. I did not need his villainy pointed out in every way possible.
“Bow before me, for I am EEEEEEEVILLLLLLLL!”
#2 – Sonya Blade
She’s an entire study in how to fuck up a character. A special ops agent that storms into a crowded club in obvious military gear? Really? That’s how you introduce your allegedly strong, smart female? Sonya was way too reactionary for a special ops agent; she struck me as more of a loose cannon than an elite fighter, which plays into the notion that women are ruled by emotions and incapable of logical thought. Sulking around with an angry look on your face isn’t the best way to convey “tough woman,” and yet Bridgette Wilson looked like she was trying way too hard to give us female action hero between the ultra-feminine long hair and the perpetually pissed off look on her face. By the time she declared Johnny Cage to be the most egotistical person she had met, I caught myself muttering, “And you’ll sure as hell fuck him at the end of the movie.” Cliche, predictable and completely enraging, but yet that’s exactly where the plot went. When Shang was dragging her away, all I could think of was Betty from Kung Pow: Enter the Fist going, “I like ’em feisty.” She was eye candy, which wasn’t fair when you consider that a lot of girls at that time were happy to have a kick-ass female character to play in the fun boy games of the early ’90s. Dressing her up like fucking Barbarella for the final battle was the straw that broke my back. The pooch was complete screwed when it came to Sonya. Sometimes, you can’t hold up a bleeding dog’s ass and ask for forgiveness.
#3 – In what universe is Linden Ashby an action star?
Action stars come in all shapes and sizes, and sometimes they surprise you. Bruce Willis can sell me as an action star. So can Jason Statham (I’ll cop to watching Crank) and Milla Jovovich. One that I just could not see as an action hero? Linden Ashby. I could not buy him as Johnny Cage. Cage was supposed to be this buff hero type, a movie idol that projected cool. Someone that looks like he could not only win a fight, but win it easily and with style. With this casting, it’s as though they wanted you to assume that he was this amazing hero, and really, there was nothing there to prove that he had the goods to back it up. A pair of black Dockers and a prissy primadonna attitude does not a Van Damme make (though we are getting warmer). Mostly, it was about the swagger of being able to convey that you can be the big hero, even just on film. I did not get that at all. I could have beaten him (then again, I’m scrappy).
#4 – Liu Kang’s lucious, lucious mullet
The mullet is still with us to this day. It’s the herpes of the haircut world – scrub all you like, you will still find traces of it, no matter how in or out of fashion it is. I get that mullets were still around in 1994/1995, when the film was made. However, it just looked… dated. In a bad way. Really, though, it took away from my ability to concentrate on the actor quite a bit. I couldn’t tear my eyes off of it. The fact that the hair department had to make sure that it framed Robin Shou’s face in perfect Farrah Fawcett bounces sealed that I could not take this character seriously. It was even in slow motion a couple of times. I was surprised that it didn’t have its own wooshing sound effect to accompany it. I half expected it to have it’s own credit at the end of the film. It was equal parts horror and fascination.
#5 – Raiden
WHAT THE EVER LOVING FUCK. Christopher Lambert as Raiden?! You cast a white French dude as a character that was based on the Japanese god of lightning? Nevermind that English-speaking Chinese monks were worshiping a Japanese god in an Indonesian temple made up to look like ancient ruins; let’s set that one aside for a moment. You really mean to tell me that the casting agency couldn’t find ONE Asian actor to fit the bill? That’s messed up and offensive. I can name a half a dozen Japanese actors that would have made more sense than Christopher Lambert. Given, most self-respecting Japanese actors wouldn’t hhave been caught dead in this, but really, there had to have been at least one that was looking to pay some bills.
In what universe is this guy a Japanese lightning god?
Now, here’s the other problem that was posed to us in this storytelling: the character is presented as being worshiped by Shaolin monks, who are Chinese. The character is seeped in Japanese tradition. There’s a whole lot of cultural animosity there. It also implies that Chinese and Japanese actors are interchangeable. Which they’re not. Someone was drunk off his ass when he wrote this. Or really out of touch with the mechanics of intra-Asiatic relations. Take your pick.
#6 – Let’s cram as many characters into this movie as we can!
KISS Principle: keep it simple, stupid. Have a few characters for the first film, then incorporate others into the sequels (because we all know that there’s going to be a sequel, whether we want one or not). Did we really need Kitana, Reptile and Jax? I mean, I can see how Reptile could squeak in there, as he was an Easter Egg of the first game. The way he was used was just backwards. But really, what was the point of Reptile? To spit in Liu Kang’s face? And while we’re on the topic of misused characters, why did Kano come off as a sexual predator? Was that really necessary? If Kitana was so important, why didn’t she have the backstory she had in the game? And if we’re going this far, why not just have Dan Forden pop up and yell, “Toasty!” when someone lands a sweet hit?
#7 – Fighting styles of minor characters
Yes, show off your best moves while the main character just stands there, then get killed. I understand that everyone except the main characters will die, but put some effort into looking like a believable fighter. Someone good enough to make it to the tournament wouldn’t have made such a rookie error. The parade of nameless characters being thrown on stones in defeat in rapid fire succession reminded me of my reaction to the Odessa Steps sequence in Battleship Potemkin: I giggled at a ridiculous series of what was virtually the same shot (given, this one didn’t have the same weird-looking little kid repeated, but I think we were close). Being so blatant was insulting to an audience member. I wasn’t entertained. I was embarrassed.
#8 – Dry ice makes something more mysterious
Let’s not forget the blue lighting. Because it didn’t look overly cheesy or anything. While we’re talking about botched special effects, why did the death of Scorpion look so chintzy? The blood looked like red, chunky yogurt. You know who I expect this from? Sam Raimi, who did it in the 80s because he couldn’t afford anything more and made it funny. If you’re going to spend money on half the crap you did, at least shell out a little extra for some corn syrup. The last person that made a death work with the same materials was Peter Jackson in Dead Alive. Even then, that was for comedic effect. Make up your mind, Mortal Kombat: do you want me to laugh or feel like I’m watching a serious action movie?
I now want there to be blue lighting when I’m about to do something heroic.
#9 – Techno, techno everywhere!
Hey, you know what would be a great idea? If someone yelled, “MORTAL KOMBAT!” every time a fight began. Because, you know, I might forget the name of the movie as I’m watching it. I don’t mind technos so long as it’s not obnoxious (for some, this statement will make no sense. To each his own.). There’s typically a dance beat in video games. It didn’t come off as being video-game-like: it struck me as hokey and felt like a little kid was playing with a light switch. Or me as a passenger in a car with automatic windows. After watching this movie, I think I owe my parents an apology for screwing with the rental car so much on that trip to Myrtle Beach.
#10 – Cliched contestant dies first
Why is it that the first one that died in the official tournament was a black guy? Did we really have to go for the “black guy dies first” angle? Come to think of it, we only really had one other black contestant, and he bit it too. In fact, every one of our heroes with the exception of Art Lean, a black guy, made it to the end. What the fuck, people – you couldn’t spare one more hero from your trio? Then again, maybe I’m expecting far too much after the casting of a goddamned white guy in place of an Asian actor.
#11 – Why are we fighting outside of the tournament?
Johnny versus Scorpion – really? You couldn’t have done this in the arena? The dimension jumping felt awkward, like a chance to use a different set. It’s another instance of when the movie developed an incurable case of ADHD. I would have been worried about it running into the street and getting hit by a car, but it was so obnoxious that I kind of wanted it to die. There could have been more creative ways to work in different settings. This felt like it was unnecessary. We could have had better fighting in closed quarters. Again, I wondered if the goal was to try to have a more video-game style atmosphere. Fail.
#12 – Bad lines
Kitana tells Liu, “To win your next fight, use the element which brings life.” My first thought was, Vagina? Yeah, I went there. To be fair, the script and the acting made it an easy jump. Considering that the actual answer was “water” – a traditional symbol of feminine sexuality – I wasn’t far off. In all seriousness, though, it felt a bit like Dr. Seuss meets Bloodsport: “Would you, could you, near a moat? Would you punch him in the throat?” The fight would have been over so much faster if she had just said something like, “Hey, dude, just use water, okay? Water’s the key.” It would have gotten us to the end faster.
#13 – Goro’s punch
No one thought to punch anyone in the balls earlier? Forget your training: if some hulking dude with four arms comes at me like he’s going to rip my arms off, you bet your ass I’m going to think like that and go for the cheap shot. This is the fate of planet Earth we’re talking about here. I have to be honest: at this point, I just wanted the movie to be done. I did watch it, but it’s a bit hazy from here on out. Except…
Cheap shots keep you alive, man.
#14 – The ending
Is it just me, or did Emperor Khan showing up remind you of Vigo in Ghostbusters II once he was trying to bust out of the painting? I think the Ghostbusters could have done a better job than our tournament entries. At least the laughs would have been intentional.
Now that I’ve got that out of my system, I’m going to go play Tekken.