REVIEW: Pancakes, Divorce, Pancakes (S0103, 2014)

(Paramount+/Pluto/VOD) Personal note: This will be the last daily recommendation for the foreseeable future, for reasons detailed below. I hope I haven’t wasted too much of anyone’s time, and my many sincere thanks to those who have commented and those I’ve conversed with over the past ~275 recommendations. You’ve been a balm through this very difficult time.

REVIEW was a fictional Comedy Central show — adapted from a more irreverent Australian show of the same name — centered around soliciting life experience queries from people and then ‘life-reviewer’ Forrest MacNeil (legendary cult comedian/actor/writer Andy Daly) would then find a way to live the experience, review it, and rate it on a five-star system.

While the show could — and definitely leaned into — slapstick behavior, it more often than not tackled more emotional challenges. In -Pancakes, Divorce, Pancakes-, the third episode of the opening season, Forrest is requested to:

1) Review eating 15 pancakes:

2) Review getting divorced (unfortunately not available via YouTube)

3) Review eating 30 pancakes:

Forrest commits to all of it and it’s so hilariously tragic, partially because he’s so blindly committed to his job, but also because he feels he has a personal contract with an audience that barely exists with which he has his own unwritten personal rules that he must abide by. (Especially in the -Divorce- segment, where most of the comedy is elicited by the fact that he feels he can’t tell his wife he’s doing this because of his show.)

I initially picked this episode as a quick-and-easy recommendation to write up but, while typing the above, I realized: Oh, fuck. I’ve become Forrest MacNeil.

I started these daily recommendations to give me a bit of structure and bonding with friends during lockdown. Also, I’d missed writing about media, as the last time I regularly did so was more than several years ago on my defunct videogame criticism/analysis website THE NEW GAMER. I thought: “I can find ~200-300 words a day about something I’ve watched that I love! Surely I can manage that for a year, or until I get to see a post-worthy film in a theater!”

That word limit lasted about three months. Then I added more unstated personal rules: I should post no later than midnight CST; if I haven’t watched it in over a year, I should re-watch it; if it’s an adaptation, I should read the book and comment on that; if there’s a TV adaptation, I should watch and touch on that. (To be fair, half of the time I had either already read the adaptation or watched some, if not all, of the TV adaptation. For example, my THE GHOST & MRS. MUIR recommendation with which I had previously done all three.)

Thanks to REVIEW, I’ve realized I’m currently writing these daily recommendations simply because of my own arbitrary rules and, while I love writing about media, it’s spun a bit out of control. It hasn’t been a bad experience by any means, but those dumb rules of mine ruined what was supposed to be a quick, dumb thing done for fun. That said, I’ll continue to write recommendations, but on far looser terms.

So, on that note, I’ll review this endeavor as Forrest MacNeil would: “Writing a daily media recommendation newsletter during a global pandemic: 4 stars.”

“This certainly is an upsetting number of pancakes.”

SPONTANEOUS (2020)

(epix/Hulu/Paramount+/VOD) Yep, this is a repeat recommendation! (Here’s the original recommendation.) I often read the source material of a film afterwards, but that’s usually concerning dusty films from the 40s; rarely do I seek out source material for a modern film because many modern literary-to-film adaptations simply aren’t that interesting. (The last great book/film pair I can recall is probably GONE GIRL which was checks notes seven years ago?!)

However, I just finished reading the source material — Aaron Starmer’s novel of the same name — and I -love- both versions. To summarize both real quick, just in case: the senior year students in a traditional American high school start spontaneously combusting, BLEAK HOUSE-style. (Sorry, spoilers for a 150-year-old novel.)

The novel is denser and woolier than the film, but the film has a cavalier, high-energy attitude that the book lacks, and it doesn’t get so bogged down with the details. The film feels like a very concise reinterpretation of the novel — vast sections of the last third of the book are dropped or merely given lip-service in the film — the focus here is more on Mara and her end-of-youth relationship with Dylan — who is has far less back-story in the film — but that’s okay because the film is about Mara’s agency and her graduating to adulthood. Yes, writer/director Brian Duffield (writer of the previously recommended UNDERWATER) bumps up Mara’s quirkiness, but in a way that feels organic for Katherine Langford (KNIVES OUT), while still preserving her fuck-up demeanor (although it does significantly ramp down her drug use for some reason).

Sadly, Mara’s best friend Tess (RIVERDALE’s Hayley Law) is significantly dumbed down in the film, which is perhaps the only misstep the film makes, but otherwise it’s an extremely smart, visually inventive and refreshing take on a coming-of-age tale. I’m hoping it’ll find an audience post-COVID, because it has all of the hallmarks of a great cult film. And, if you like the film, pick up a copy of the book.*

  • I’d like to note that I picked up a used copy of the book, and the previous owner of the book took the effort to use typewriter whiteout tape — not actual whiteout — to obscure not only every swear in the novel (Mara swears approximately every other page, and it’s a 355 page novel) but also any physical sexual moment, including full paragraphs about self-stimulation. I can’t wrap my head around it — Mara’s utterances and the sex is the least disturbing part of the novel — but at least the presumed kid that asked to read the book got to read it?

THE TWILIGHT ZONE: COME WANDER WITH ME (1964)

(Hulu/Paramount+, S05E34) This episode of THE TWILIGHT ZONE is rarely included in best of lists, which is fair — even if it’s the last-filmed ep and directed by Richard Donner — as its story is a bit strained, even by TWILIGHT ZONE standards. Floyd Burney, known as the “Rock-A-Billy Kid” (Gary Crosby), is on the prowl for a new song in a small, unnamed town. He overhears a woman singing and follows her voice as she repeats the refrain: “Come wander with me love / Come wander with me / Away from this sad world / Come wander with me”

The woman introduces herself as Mary Rachel (Bonnie Beecher) and is reluctant to part with the song, but Floyd is insistent. Matters escalate quickly as the rest of the song is revealed.

While the episode is a bit clunky, it’s the song that makes it memorable. -Come Wander With Me- is a brilliantly haunting ballad and, even though the song was never written or recorded in full, a number of musicians, such as Émilie Satt and British Sea Power, have covered it over the years.

Émilie Satt – Come Wander With Me:

British Sea Power – Come Wander With Me:

Hidden Highways – Come Wander With Me:

Original:

It’s worth noting that, for some inexplicable reason, the episode is titled ‘Come Wander With Us’ on Netflix.

FREAKS & GEEKS (1999)

(Hulu/Paramount+/VOD) FREAKS & GEEKS is finally available to stream! If you haven’t already purchased the DVD, or have enough grey hair to have watched it when it first aired, Hulu managed to clear all of the music rights and — after a bit of a stumble out of the gait — have the eps properly ordered.

If you’re a product of the 80s — especially if you were a nerd in the 80s — it’ll be a trip down memory lane. If not, given how absurdly recognizable all of the actors and creatives are, it’ll be another sort of nostalgia for you, as it introduced the world to: Judd Apatow, Linda Cardellini, Paul Feig, James Franco, Busy Philipps, Seth Rogen, Jason Segel, Mike White. A laundry list of modern heavy hitters, all of whom cut their teeth on this show.

SPONTANEOUS (2020)

(epix/Hulu/Paramount+/VOD) In a year of unnervingly prescient pandemic screenplays, this one stands out. Based on Aaron Starmer’s young adult novel, senior-year high school teens start spontaneously exploding and are quarantined while scientists race to find a cure.

Brian Duffield’s (writer of both UNDERWATER and JANE GOT A GUN) adaptation takes a number of notes from THE LEFTOVERS, such as uniforms similar to the ‘Guilty Remnants’ and referring to the ‘exploded’ as ‘departed’. They even leave the ‘act of departing’ in the visual gutter — you never witness it occur, you only witness the aftermath. It’s a nice touch by Duffield, and it leads to more than a few gleefully shocking moments.

While you will laugh while watching this — especially at the playful insults bandied about by acerbic smartass Mara (Katherine Longford, KNIVES OUT and LOVE, SIMON) with her best friend Hayley Law (RIVERDALE), boyfriend Dylan (Charlie Plummer, LEAN ON PETE), and ‘cool dad and mom (comedy mainstay Rob Huebel and COYOTE UGLY’s Piper Perabo) — it’s a much more downbeat and thoughtful, occasionally distressing, look at teens reckoning with their mortality on the cusp of beginning their adult lives. It’s not exactly the thigh-slapping dark rom-com the trailer pitches, which is a relief because the end result resonates far longer than a more flippant approach to the material would.

CARNIVAL OF SOULS (1962)

(AMC+/Criterion/fubu/epix/HBO MAX/hoopla/kanopy/Paramount+/tubi/Vudu, anywhere really, although I watched The Directors Cut via my Criterion copy) One of the few films I discovered because of a video game — no, not CARNEVIL — I’d read about it influencing SILENT HILL.

CARNIVAL OF SOULS is a surprisingly singular vision from industrial film Herk Harvey, who only made this one film, but he made that swing count. A woman is the sole survivor of a three-person car crash, and goes about trying to move ahead in life, but can’t shake a gauzy hazy or the stare of a ghostly man.

It’s a surprisingly quiet film, despite the often oppressive organ soundtrack, and while it’s built upon a number of small moments, it culminates in an astounding final sequence. Art-house horror, full of tension and dread, well before such a thing widely existed.

One final note: I believe some song I’m quite familiar with sampled Mary’s meeting with a Dr. Samuels, as well as the exchange: “Now you quit licking your chops, she’s outta your class.” “You wanna bet?” If anyone knows who sampled them, let me know!

GRETEL & HANSEL (2020)

(epix/Hulu/Paramount+/VOD) One of the last films I managed to catch in an actual theater before lockdown. Lushly shot — often explicitly evoking Jodorowsky’s THE HOLY MOUNTAIN — and exquisitely paced, with striking production design — as you’d expect from Oz Perkins — but mostly, it’s another triumph for actress Sophia Lillis.

The characters are a bit more fleshed out, the circumstances are broadened a bit for a modern horror audience, but it’s still the Hansel & Gretel you know. It’s not trying to be IN THE COMPANY OF WOLVES (1984, see yesterday).

(As a film nerd, I was unreasonably delighted to see the ORION PICTURES card on the big screen for a new film. Dumb, yes, I know, but I have many weaknesses.)

THE TRIP (1967)

(epix/kanopy/Paramount+/VOD) Surreal drugsploitation film penned by Jack Nicholson (yes, THAT Jack Nicholson), featuring Peter Fonda, Dennis Hopper, and Peter Fonda’s ass and, yes, it predates EASY RIDER. It’s intriguing simply because it’s psychedelic Corman — clearly over-extending himself, but enjoying doing so* — however the end result is a bit dull, dated, and feels too long, despite it clocking in under 90 minutes. However, one line really snapped me to attention: “Gimme the thorazine. You don’t need the thorazine!”

My media tastes came of age in the early 90s, when I glommed onto sample-heavy goth/industrial acts like MY LIFE WITH THE THRILL KILL KULT, FRONT LINE ASSEMBLY, MINISTRY, and far lesser known acts and, while I don’t listen to much goth/industrial nowadays, I’m constantly tripping over samples that have been burned into my teen memory while filling in my adult tv/film gaps. That line is an iconic third-wave industrial opening sample for MINISTRY’s JUST ONE FIX. (It’s oddly excised from the video, probably because of licensing issues.) When I happen upon a sample I’ve heard for years, but never knew the source or context, it’s oddly thrilling.

LADY OF BURLESQUE (1943)

(epix/Paramount+/tubi/VOD) LADY OF BURLESQUE is a delightfully self-aware adaptation of Gypsy Rose Lee’s sensationlist detective novel regarding the murder of a stripper in a burlesque stage show (the original novel was called THE G-STRING MURDERS). Barbara Stanwick leads, clearly loving the role. Honestly not sure if the Hayes code restrictions help or hurt the film.

THE GROUP (1966)

(epix/Paramount+/VOD) It’s an anachronistic mess, and certainly not one of Lumet’s finest, but I can’t get enough of this sort of epic sensationalism. Also, it’s the role that launched Candice Bergen’s career!