↓
 

The Backseat Driver Reviews

Film analysis, recommendations and general snark.

The Backseat Driver Reviews
  • Home
  • Bios
    • Erin Thompson
    • Nika Black
    • Talicia Tarver
  • Guest Contributors
  • Site Credits
Home - Page 87 << 1 2 … 85 86 87

Post navigation

Newer posts →

The Unflinching Eye: del Toro and the Taboo of On-Screen Child Death

The Backseat Driver Reviews Posted on April 21, 2015 by Erin MiskellJune 13, 2016
Back in college, my film professor spoke of some of the last remaining taboos in film. One of the largest taboos, he claimed, was that children – child actors, not dolls – were never explicitly shown in violent death on-screen. The unflinching death of a child, more specifically a murder, was off-limits for many filmmakers. He urged us to list examples of when we actually got to see a child character die a violent death in front of the camera. All examples, most notably Pet Semetery  from this group, were debunked as the camera, the eye of the audience, in essence has to look away from the act itself because it’s too horrifying. He wondered aloud who would be the first filmmaker to break that taboo, and how tasteless it would be.
I put my money on Takashi Miike. I was dead wrong. Of all people, the first time I watched a child die on screen was in a Guillermo del Toro film. The first example that many would site before this film is the death of Ofelia in Pan’s Labyrinth, but there’s an interesting rub to that one: we don’t watch Ofelia get shot. We do not see a bullet enter her. The gun is pointed off camera. We see her flinch, we see her bleed, we see her corpse, but we do not get to witness her injury the way that del Toro presents the death of a child in The Devil’s Backbone. In fact, it’s the way that he treated Santi’s death in The Devil’s Backbone that really cements the acceptance of this taboo challenge.
When we first begin watching Santi die at the start of the movie, Jaime is crying over him; we think Jaime has killed him, and are further lead to believe this assumption based upon his bullying behavior for the first hour and fifteen minutes of the film. We believe the inference because conventional wisdom tells us that, deep down, we won’t get to see the gritty details. However, when we get to see what actually happened, Jacinto’s murder of Santi is very explicit. The camera doesn’t move away from the action. In fact, we’re more in touch with Santi at the moment of his death: when Santi smacks his head – which we do indeed get to witness – there’s a brief moment of a bright flash of light. We see him begin to go into shock. We see him get bound and tossed into the pool. The entire time, del Toro does not look away.
So how is del Toro able to break the taboo in showing Santi being murdered? He treats the character with respect and a sense of justice. Far from gratuitous, the scene is a factual account of a terrible event. The effects are not gory, with twenty gallons of fake blood pouring from the wound. It’s not loud and melodramatic. It furthers the story and connects us to the characters, both dead and alive. It gives us a bond of fear with Jaime. It makes Carlos finally understand that the ghost is not the villain. It makes us hate Jacinto for not trying to save Santi. Jacinto disposes of the body as though Santi is nothing. We experience all of this and get enraged. We’re scared for the children of the orphanage because we don’t want the same thing to happen to them. We want Jacinto stopped.
The most extraordinary thing that del Toro does is that he does not make the children into monsters. They attack Jacinto out of the necessity that he will kill them if they don’t defend themselves; however, Carlos does not stab Jacinto. Rather, he pushes him into the pool, effectively giving him to Santi as requested. What does Santi do? He does not drag Jacinto down into the depths, but instead embraces him. A simple hug, quite literally the embrace of death. Rather than scratch or claw or take revenge, Santi hugs. There’s a surprising amount of mercy in the action. del Toro does not allow his protagonists to become murderers themselves, and for this reason, we can cheer the death of the murderer because the victims get to remain children.
Will others come along and take up this taboo? Most likely. Movies are getting gorier by the day in a bid to out-shock each other. I can guarantee that the results will not have nearly half the impact that this film’s scene did. Santi’s death in The Devil’s Backbone takes us to another place entirely: the presentation of the action, the inspiration of the audience, and the retention of humanity of its characters. In short, del Toro successfully challenged this taboo by handling it with class and respect.
Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged Child death, Taboo

May I Have a Mulligan, Please? 10 Movies That Deserve Remakes

The Backseat Driver Reviews Posted on April 16, 2015 by Erin MiskellJune 13, 2016

I know, I know – am I not the person that gripes and whines about the constant stream of remakes? Yes, yes I am. However, the remake argument can be made in favor of some movies, particularly when we’re dealing with a film that could have been great if it had some tweaks. What makes a movie a candidate for remake? It needed to have elements of a good film, but such a poor writer/director/cast member/editor that it didn’t quite make it off the ground. Here, a list of movies that were once bright, fresh-faced kids that got mugged and deserve a second chance. Feel free to chime in on the comments section.

#10 – Prometheus
There’s going to be a whole post on the wtf-ery that went on halfway through this movie. What went wrong here? It had Noomi Rapace, Idris Elba and FASSY (if you’re a Black Butler fan, you just read that in Grell’s voice)! Ridley Scott directed it! Damon Lindelof helped write it – he helped with Lost! Damon and Ridley, I’m pinning this on you. Between the cheap exposition to avoid actually giving backstory and the dumbass decisions that no self-respecting explorer/scientist/person with common sense would make, the trophy goes to the writing and direction. Noomi deserved better. Let’s give her a shot with someone else.
#9 – Gozilla (2014)
I’m most likely going to catch hell for this one, but I didn’t like it. Strong start – who would’ve thought that Juliette Binoche would bite it such a short distance into the movie? Nice move. Not so nice? The ever-whiny Elizabeth Olsen, who we’re expected to believe is a stoic nurse. Throw in the prerequisite poor decision-making of just about every character, and we have ourselves a head-scratching party. I have trouble believing that the world’s top scientists thought it would be a good idea to take a gargantuan egg that feeds off of radiation and put it in the middle of a radioactive hot spot. That’s like pinning a kick-me sign on a limping kid. No thanks; take your ticket and try again.
#8 – The English Patient
There’s a reason Chuck Palahniuk references this movie as playing on repeat in Hell. This movie takes fucking forever to get anywhere, and even when it moves, it’s a bit like watching a slug struggle to get from one end of the driveway to another. So let’s redo this one with better pacing. I’d even settle for a recut version of this movie.
#7 – A.I.: Artificial Intelligence
This one pains me a bit, because I didn’t mind it as much. But – and there’s always a but – something was missing. Whether Spielberg was trying too hard to do a Kubrik impression or someone simply forgot to hit the quality control button is anyone’s guess. The cast was good, and fit well. It just felt like it should have had more oomph to it for such great parts. I’d like a do-over on this one.
#6 – The Village
My dear friend Andy Mac once described this movie thusly: “It’s like an orgasm that doesn’t quite get there – ” mimes humping the air ” – oh my god, oh my god, oh my god…. DAMMIT!” This is the most accurate description of this movie I’ve ever heard. Or seen. I’d like to see someone else take a gander at it. See if we can’t get it to the finish line.
#5 – Congo
This one should have been good, but it sucked. It had Bruce Campbell and Tim Curry in it (okay, not always the best determinant for success), and it came from a Michael Crichton novel. I expected better. I was left wondering if I should be laughing. Never a good feeling. Mulligan please?
#4 – Nightbreed
I know some people that love this movie. Considering that I’m a huge Clive Barker fan, I should have loved this movie. I couldn’t bring myself to love this movie. Not even partial nudity could keep me engaged. You know that feeling when you sit down to watch something adapted from a short story and you realize that the filmmakers are trying to gasp and wheeze to the 90-minute mark? A rare misstep for the Barker, but one that I’m willing to give a do-over pass to.
#3 – Lars and the Real Girl
I honestly couldn’t tell if I should be laughing during this movie. There’s a fine line between watching someone who is painfully ill and a dark comedy. I genuinely could not tell for which angle film aimed. I was left uncomfortable while watching it. So, a proposal: make one a dark satire, and the other a movie about a good person having a breakdown. Just pick one. Any one.
#2 – I Am Legend
Did anyone writing this movie even bother to read this book, or did Will Smith campaign to make it somehow deeper (and I use that term loosely when it comes to him)? Was it sponsored by the Ford Mustang? The original book ending is so much more epic. That’s not the way that it ended, dammit. Reshoot the fucking thing. I’ll be waiting over here.
#1 – Star Wars Episode 1: The Phantom Menace
In the famous words of Tim (Simon Pegg) from Spaced, “Jar-Jar Binks makes the Ewoks look like fucking Shaft!” I have a drinking game for this movie: take a shot every time Anakin acts like he’s the long-lost child of the Cleavers. Drunk in no time flat. Painful, though, if you’re watching it with your kids. Remake it, make it shorter, and write some better dialog. This is coming from Star Wars fan.
Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged Blockbuster, Movies That Sucked, Plot Holes

What Time Is It?

The Backseat Driver Reviews Posted on April 16, 2015 by Erin MiskellJune 1, 2016

It’s Suggestion Time!

Here’s how this works: you comment below as to which movie you’d like me to review. It can be a request for a serious, in-depth review, or major snarking. The choice is yours. Comment below and we’ll make it happen.

Posted in Uncategorized

Blame the Mother: The Babadook and the Reality Taboo

The Backseat Driver Reviews Posted on April 14, 2015 by Erin MiskellJune 13, 2016
Let’s face it: we live in a culture of child-worship and parenting competition has gotten way out of hand. Who can afford to stay home with their kids full-time? Who has the most original baby name? Who can raft the most exquisite cookies and cupcakes for birthdays/major holidays/every day in between? There’s vacations, teething, potty-training, storytime and much, much more – so much MAGIC to be had on a daily basis! This culture tells us that every girl is a fairy princess, and every boy is a king. There’s also an unspoken, glaring expectation that every aspect of your child’s life must occur without an utterance of stress or protest from the mother.
Which makes The Babadook that much more damning of this culture, and far more progressive in breaking down the growing taboo that mothers must be perfect and find no aspect of parenthood daunting.
I’m reading this and hearing Mr. Babadook’s voice right now.

 

Brought to us by Jennifer Kent, the movie chronicles the life of a harried, widowed mother named Amelia and her 6-year-old son, Samuel. Amelia still grieves for Samuel’s father, who died in an accident en route to the hospital when Samuel was born. Samuel, for his part, does not sleep well, clings bodily to an extreme, has an overactive imagination, and is prone to outbursts. Thanks to a mysterious book that shows up on Samuel’s bookshelf, a creature seemingly begins to worm its way into their lives, begging the question: is there something out to get Amelia and Samuel, or are we watching a stressed mother have a psychotic breakdown?
Kent, in an interview with Ryan Lambie of Den of Geek, explains that, “I was really wanting to explore parenting from a very real perspective. Now, I’m not saying we all want to go and kill our kids, but a lot of women struggle. And it is a very taboo subject, to say that motherhood is anything but a perfect experience for women. To the point where I tried to look for research, and I found it very hard to find anything on the subject.”
Motherhood is indeed less than perfect for Amelia. Samuel is, in a word, exhausting. Within the first five minutes of the film, we watch as Samuel hangs on his mother, grinds his teeth, and grabs at her neck while she tries to fall asleep, eventually resulting in Amelia moving him and scooting away on the bed in a bid for relief. Within the film next five minutes, Samuel creates a monster-fighting weapon, attempts to do a magic tricks while getting ready for school, suffocates his mother with affection, gets pulled from school due to his monster-fighting contraption, yells incessantly for his mother’s attention on a playground, hurts himself, screams all the way home, and then insists on a monster-checking ritual before bed. Tired yet? Yep, so’s the depressed Amelia, who can’t seem to get any sleep or even a moment alone to masturbate.

The picture of familial happiness.

 

This isn’t to say that Samuel is a bad kid. Kent makes a point to show how he desperately craves his mother’s affection. He showers her with hugs and wants to be close to her all the time. He likes magic. He’s nice to the elderly woman next door. He’s painfully honest. He expresses concern about something bad happening to his mother, and warns others about monsters that might be lurking – just in case they want to arm themselves. He builds traps in an effort to defend both himself and his mother. As my husband pointed out, “Sam’s not a bad kid. He’s just wired differently.” Sam actually reminds me of one of my children, who has since grown out of an Oppositional Defiant Disorder (ODD) diagnosis and into one of ADHD and OCD. My heart breaks for Sam every time I watch this movie because I speak that language. I’ve heard the imaginative mental leaps and had to teach someone a socially acceptable way to express themselves. The world is not kind to people like that because they simply can’t see the way that an imaginative child does. The child has trouble differentiating between reality and make-believe, and sometimes will physically react to a monster that’s not there. I feel for Sam; I really do.
However, that knowledge and empathy doesn’t make Samuel any less exhausting, and Amelia needs a break. The problem is that she doesn’t know how to explicitly ask for one. When given the opportunity to leave work early, Amelia takes a blessed short time to wander a local mall, have an ice cream and sit down for a minute without someone screaming at her. She doesn’t ask for this time; it’s given to her by work. Amelia has trouble acknowledging to others that her relationship with her child is problematic. She lies about sleeping through her alarm clock because she’s so exhausted, and she does not readily tell others that her son has been pulled from school due to behavioral problems. After all, the perception is that if she was a good mother, Samuel would not act this way, and things would be under control. It’s her job to rein him in. Amelia – grieving, stressed, patient Ameila, the mother of a child that needs more attention that the average kid – needs this moment to herself more than anyone. She can’t ask for it on her own because her son really has trouble fitting in. This is apparent when when she checks her phone, sees 10 missed calls from her sister Claire and arrives to get her son to a flurry of angry confrontations.
Ah, Claire. There are various theories about the true monster of The Babadook. Some say it’s grief. Others say it’s your own dark side. I say that the movie exposes something much more sinister: the unfeeling, unwilling, unhelpful bystander that judges the struggling mother without really doing anything to help relieve the burden. Claire is rude, judgmental and far more aloof than Amelia. One of the standout scenes from the movie comes when Amelia lashes out at a group of privileged mothers at her niece’s birthday party. In a brief moment of encouragement, Claire tells Amelia of writing, “You just have to get back into it.” However, there’s no offer of Claire (or anyone else present) to help her in this endeavor. Think about that for a moment: someone encourages you to get back on your feet, then fails to offer any plausible help to achieve that goal. No one in that group offers to babysit. No one tells Amelia of any services that could help a struggling widow with a son that has more needs than most kids. They make odd small talk about charity work and not having the time to go to the gym. They stare when Amelia snaps, “You must have so much to talk about with those disadvantaged women.” Instead of confronting the situation, the group stares without saying anything. Suddenly, Amelia is the outsider because she had the chutzpah to call out what most people would see as crappy behavior. Really, though, should that be a shun-worthy action? Kent makes it clear in her tone that we should greatly dislike Claire and her cronies. The camera shot is slightly upwards, from Amelia’s chair-bound perspective while the rest of the group is standing. The makeup of the women is ashy at best, suggesting a type of illness to them. Thanks to Kent’s delivery of the scenario, we don’t feel for this group. We can read their shock, but in no way do we want one of them to get an apology from Amelia. The audience dislikes these women for being unfeeling and out of touch. Every person I’ve spoken to cites this moment as a point where they wished they could high-five a movie character. We’re angry for the hypocrisy of those that won’t offer to help.

Still hate ya, sis.

 

This attitude trickles down to the children, with the same results. Claire’s daughter, Ruby, tells Samuel that she overheard her mother saying that she won’t go to his house because it’s too depressing as Claire and Amelia argue about the snapish incident. While Ruby berates Samuel for being unlikable – going so far as to say that his father died so he wouldn’t have to be near him – Claire is coldly telling Amelia to move on with her life after being widowed, that she hates her nephew and suspects his mother does as well. It turns into a parallel battle of Claire/Ruby versus Amelia/Samuel, with Ruby echoing each sentiment her mother has expressed, only much more vicious in her sneering tone. That Kent presents this battle occurring simultaneously is no accident: it demonstrates the impact of the mother’s words and attitude on the relationship of the children. Unfortunately, things like this happen in real life all the time. Kent presents it in a manner that builds to discomfort because we know that Amelia is not able to fully fight back against her sister. Watching Amelia argue with Claire, we know that while she had a brief moment of strength to fight back against the crowd, we know that Claire is entirely too dominant for Amelia to face alone. Samuel, however, does not experience this issue, and literally pushes back against Ruby saying something so damaging and nasty. As an audience, we get the satisfaction of seeing a hateful child get pushed out of a tree house, but we don’t get to see the same thing happen to Claire. Amelia does not have a support system; Claire is it. She’s forced to call and try to make amends because that’s all she has. We see Amelia rejected by her sister for a final time before all hell breaks loose for the rest of the film.
When all hell does break loose, Amelia airs her grievances in the most destructive way possible. She vents her frustration at losing her husband, admitting that she’d rather have her beloved husband than the child that exhausts her, the boy with whom she can’t connect. She puts her son on harsh medication so that he will sleep and give her some much-needed rest. She chokes her dog for getting in her way. She cuts the phone lines. She is absolutely terrifying. The Babadook inside of her unleashes every last thing she’s wanted to say but has held back. This spectacle reminded me of a person who lets loose a tirade after a tiny problem pops up. Amelia has every right to be angry: her husband is dead, she’s a struggling single parent, her sister is a judgmental she-beast, her son doesn’t fit the mold of acceptable behavior, and she has no one to aid her. That she’s so patient and finally loses it doesn’t speak to her weakness; it speaks to the lack of support she gets. And there is the rub: socially, there is a stigma that women can’t vent frustration with their identities as mothers. There’s an unspoken rule that you knew what you were getting into and that you can’t complain. In essence, the lack of complaint, the lack of assistance and the expectation of how Samuel should behave are all indicative of this notion that mothers must not only quietly accept every last negative point of parenthood, but that it’s somehow wrong to even feel it. The resulting internalized bile becomes a literal Babadook.
Once she lets it go, once the destructive raging is gone and the life of her son hangs in the balance, is she able to heal. Amelia confronts and chains her Babadook, offering it worms and visiting it. Consequently, Samuel’s behavior is seen as a reflection of the perception Amelia’s parenting; the moment that they connect, he’s much more manageable. Once Amelia admits her frustrations, has her breakdown, and uses the love of her child and the love he gives her, she is able to defeat the Babadook. Once she admits her sadness and anger, she’s able to move forward. Amelia shows us the importance of acknowledging how you feel, what you’re facing and the way that life can continue when you admit that you have a dark side. We’re proud and we’re happy for her at the end of the film. Jennifer Kent set out to make a movie about two characters that dare to be real in their experiences of the parent/child relationship. She succeeded. The Babadook ultimately reminds us that we can’t all have a life jam-packed with fairy-princess parties, trips to Disneyland and immaculately-behaved children. We don’t have to smile through every second of life in a bid to craft a happy world around a child. Sometimes, there are monsters that have nothing to do with being a bad mother; sometimes, life is just monstrous, and it’s okay to say that out loud.
Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged Motherhood, Reality, Taboo

Post navigation

Newer posts →

Recent Posts

  • The End
  • … and thanks for all the fish.
  • Weekend Movies: Five Reasons to Watch Dumplin (2018)
  • Swipe Right: The Dangers of Modern Dating in the Holidays (2016) Segment New Year’s Eve
  • Coming This Week

Archives

  • September 2019
  • February 2019
  • January 2019
  • December 2018
  • November 2018
  • October 2018
  • September 2018
  • August 2018
  • July 2018
  • June 2018
  • May 2018
  • April 2018
  • March 2018
  • February 2018
  • January 2018
  • December 2017
  • November 2017
  • October 2017
  • September 2017
  • August 2017
  • July 2017
  • June 2017
  • May 2017
  • April 2017
  • March 2017
  • February 2017
  • January 2017
  • December 2016
  • November 2016
  • October 2016
  • September 2016
  • August 2016
  • July 2016
  • June 2016
  • May 2016
  • April 2016
  • March 2016
  • February 2016
  • January 2016
  • December 2015
  • November 2015
  • October 2015
  • September 2015
  • August 2015
  • July 2015
  • June 2015
  • May 2015
  • April 2015
©2022 - The Backseat Driver Reviews - Weaver Xtreme Theme
↑