VOD

D.E.B.S. (2004)

April 12, 2024

I have repeatedly said that every film is a fetish.

There is no better example of that than D.E.B.S.

That’s a good thing! Lean into what you’re into! Taste and wants are what make folks unique and often lend themselves to wild storytelling that will resonate for years! Films are incredibly difficult to will into the world and your fetish? That can be the strongest driving force and make the difference as to whether you can realize your vision.

(Unless your tastes or wants are hateful or hurtful and, in which case? Shut your mouth, head home and lock your door because the world does not need that.)

I’d been meaning to watch D.E.B.S. for years, but never got around to it until recently. To summarize? It’s four college schoolmates who are preliminary spies and Amy — the captain of said spies, played by Sara Foster (ex-fashion model and TV host) — falls in love with Lucy (the very striking Jordana Brewster), one of the most sought-after villains on their list.

I knew this film was queer before going into it, but given that it’s a film from the early naughts I assumed the queerness was couched in subtext instead of being explicit.

No. It is very explicit, practically out of the gate. Even though it’s primarily an action/espionage film that on its surface looks like it was willed into the world by a terrible cishet dude, it is really, really queer. This is all about queer awakening from the get-go, and about moving forward into queer safe spaces.

Writer/director Angela Robinson (who also adapted the life of William Moulton Marston via PROFESSOR MARSTON & THE WONDER WOMAN as well as the severely underrated HERBIE: FULLY LOADED) goes for fucking broke here, while still having so much fun with it.

I know I intentionally buried the lede here but all of the D.E.B.S. — which stands for Discipline, Energy, Beauty, Strength — are young women, helmed by the great character actor Holland Taylor, with some assistance from the much-missed Michael Clarke Duncan, clearly riffing on CHARLIE’S ANGELS.

Also? Their uniforms? Catholic schoolgirl outfits. All ties, white dress shirts, and very, very, very short plaid skirts. Robinson definitely knows what she likes — with a bit of satirical (and sartorial, sorry not sorry) and is not afraid to show it off.

Yeah. Really fucking queer. I can’t imagine how many youths were lit up and awakened by this film in the early naughts.

If there’s such a thing as passing the quasi-opposite of the Bechdel test? This film absolutely does so. This is all about women and there is no moment where two men visibly talk together in the same scene. Do you know how fucking rare that is? Especially in an action/comedy film?! And I am absolutely here for it.

D.E.B.S. is spryly paced and full of kinetic action and so well-cast and so, so much fun and again! Really fucking queer in a way that doesn’t think it’s odd that it’s about two women falling in love.

It also helps that the chemistry between Amy and Lucy is off the fucking charts.

While the film absolutely flopped, it has become a queer cult favorite — rightly so, as it’s one of the few queer films that isn’t sad or fridge their queers — and just celebrated its 20th anniversary, which seems wild to me because it’d feel progressive even today.

Addendum

Don’t believe me? I’ve included a number of links extolling its virtues below!

VULTURE – ‘The Surprising Queer Joy of D.E.B.S.’

POLYGON – ‘Happy birthday to DEBS, the gay Charlie’s Angels movie that’s still too obscure’

PASTE MAGAZINE – ’20 Years On, D.E.B.S.‘ Campy Lesbian Romance Is Still a Delight to Behold’

Also VULTURE – ‘How D.E.B.S. Became a Queer Cult Classic’

LES MISÉRABLES (2012)

December 4, 2023

I will fully admit: I am not the biggest LES MISÉRABLES musical fan. I think it’s a rather ramshackle spectacle with a few good numbers and set-pieces. It’s fine. I don’t hate it. I don’t love it, either.

Additionally, I’m not a huge fan of the most recent director to adapt Les Miz, Tom Hooper, despite my endorsement of his version of CATS. If you’ve read about the endless labor he put into his Les Miz adaptation, you’ll probably see that it was a lot of over-exacting bluster. Did he really need all of those terribly sensitive microphones? Nope. The embedded cameras in the set walls? Nope. Especially since they cast fucking Russell Crowe, because no amount of technology could do a damn thing to help that sweaty, ham-fisted job he turned in as Javert. (Even he admits he was ill-suited for the job.)

To quote Lawrence Olivier reprimanding Dustin Hoffman, who endlessly ran to physically wear himself out for his role in MARATHON MAN: “Dear boy, it’s called acting.”

“There was a time when men were kind, when their voices were soft and their words inviting…”

However. I fucking love Anne Hathaway’s portrayal of the fallen woman Fantine, specifically her rendition of I Dreamed a Dream. I endlessly return to it. It’s absolutely heartbreaking. If you aren’t moved by it? Well, sorry to say, but you are a monster. I know some give her grief because of her vocal skills — I’m not the best judge of that — but goddamn, she makes the most of her features, all huge sad and angry eyes and lashes and brows and full-but-cracked lips, and she emotes wildly.

“…there was a time when where the world was a song, and the song was exciting…

“…there was a time… then it all went wrong…”

It’s an absolutely brutal, wrenching number that Hathaway executes perfectly and it tears me up every time I watch it, and almost justifies Hooper’s exacting work as the intensity displayed plays far harder here than in any production of Les Miz I’ve seen.

“I dreamed that God would be forgiving.”

The way she is framed, how she’s essentially housed in an unclosed coffin, the way her hair is shorn; she’s singularly naked, and her fraught voice reflects all of that, a life lost, a life spent, a life overlooked by others, but she’s trying her damndest to give voice to her frustration as well as her resignation.

“…as they tear your hope apart! As they turn your dreams to shiiiiiiiiiit.”

(Yes, I know the actual lyric is ‘shame’, but really. Come on. You know that’s what she wants to say.)

“…life has killed the dream… I dreamed.”

While this post is mostly about I Dreamed a Dream, I’d also like to call attention to Eddie Redmayne’s performance in One Day More. The way he whips the red fabric in ‘One Day More’ is not just commanding, but awe-inspiring, and he does have the necessary voice, all bold and brash and loud. He’s very much a theatre nerd, and that is crystal clear here.

Is this the best Les Miz? No. Is it even a good Les Miz? Beats the fuck out of me! I watched this far too late in my life. This is a musical that one becomes enraptured with in one’s teen years as it’s all emotion, all fraught with rebellion and idealism and being boxed in by higher powers.

However, I keep coming back to it. It is strikingly shot and, while I normally eschew the oh, 20+ years of desaturated colors in film, it makes sense here in that it conveys the grime of France and downtrodden at that time while also letting the reds pop, focusing on the hues of the French flag.

It’s a work that haunts me and it’s worth watching for those few very earnest, honest scenes that encapsulate the hurt, the brutality, the abuse and sacrifices that some have to endure to keep living.

PIECES OF APRIL (2003)

November 20, 2023

Thanksgiving is one of the few holidays where the experience is radically different if you live in a rural area or suburban area versus an urban area, especially if you are a shitheel 20-something and away from home.

In rural and suburban areas it’s a communal, often familial affair; almost routine.

In urban areas and far from family, you have a tiny kitchen that is absolutely not equipped for preparing the amount of food folks expect for Thanksgiving and, if you are in your 20s, you have absolutely no fucking clue what you’re doing, but no one else is doing the work so it’s up to, and you have no one to guide you.

There aren’t a lot of great Thanksgiving films out there, perhaps because the stress of a Thanksgiving dinner is equally mirrored and amplified by preparing a Christmas dinner. (A CHRISTMAS STORY is probably the best example of this, even though it’s solely about making a meal for immediate family as opposed to an extended family.)

PIECES OF APRIL is one of the few great Thanksgiving films. It focuses on the dichotomy between rural and suburban and urban expectations, of young adults trying to live up to the expectations of being fully-functional adults, even if they have been or currently are fuckups, while attempting to prepare an adult meal for everyone to enjoy, while also being not at all capable of doing so.

I know, because I’ve certainly been there, but I’m getting ahead of myself.

“I’m the first pancake.”

“What?”

“It’s the one you’re supposed to throw out.”

PIECES OF APRIL is a very succinct depiction of a garbage person — April — trying to get better and attempting to mend the mistakes of their past by using food to apologize for her familial transgressions by inviting her suburban family — including her recalcitrant cancer-stricken mother, bitter about her sickness and April’s actions — to a Thanksgiving day trip to her NYC apartment.

“[We’re making] a good memory!”

“What if it’s not?”

“I promise it will be beautiful.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I told her it had to be.”

“And if it’s not?”

“Then I’ll kill her.”

April quickly realizes that her oven doesn’t work and scrambles through her building, looking for someone, anyone, to lend her some oven time to cook her turkey, often only to find doors slammed shut in her face while her boyfriend warmly traipses around the city in order to find an affordable suit to impress April’s parents. Matters escalate.

Katie Holmes is nakedly honest as April, a troubled youth, the black sheep of her family, the eldest of three children. As a youngster she had a penchant for fire and rebellion and when she had the chance, she ran off to New York City and spiraled into a world of drug dealers and even worse behavior.

PIECES OF APRIL is a perfect depiction of urban life, where many folks just want to live anonymously and are hardened by the rough life of an unforgiving city, but also of young misfits realizing what they put their family through, while also aware that they’re leading a very different life than the one that was expected of them.

The distance between myself and my immediate family is vast enough that I’ve never been put through the pressure cooker that April goes through, but as a fucking piece of garbage youth who moved halfway across the country to one of the largest cities in the U.S., and as someone who — along with my then-girlfriend/now-wife — has hosted my fair share of Friendsgivings and has screwed up my fair share of dishes, this film hits hard.

“You’re a bad girl! A very bad girl!”

“…no. I’m not.”

This was a ramshackle labor of love for writer/director Peter Hedges, shot extraordinarily cheaply — he was paid a whopping $20 for his efforts, and most of the cast worked for under $300 a day — Hedges made the most of it. There’s a visual intimacy here, mostly medium shots or close-ups to capture the emotional fraught nature of her family’s trip, as well as the stress April is enduring. Long shots are reserved for when April’s mom — an acerbic Patricia Clarkson — pushes her family away, rejecting the current situation.

Colors are often muted, although I’ve only seen this film via terrible DVD transfers. It might be intentional, an effort to visually cast a pall over the endeavors, but I might be reading too much into that.

While this summary may make this film sound like a downer, ultimately it’s about perseverance, of folks muscling through to try to do better, to give folks second chances, to showcase the grace that others can give others.

Is Thanksgiving fundamentally a fucking terrible holiday, one celebrating colonialism and downright genocide? Yes, yes it is. Is it terrible that so much of the nation overlooks that in favor for stuffing their faces? Yes, yes it is.

(I will note that PIECES OF APRIL does hang a hat on that, albeit not extremely successfully, but narratively and from a character perspective it makes sense.)

However, hosting Thanksgiving dinners is a rite of passage for many. It showcases that you can provide for others, that you can wrangle the many, many courses and dishes in a way that satisfies everyone and everyone can commune around the table and take comfort in one and another.

You’re living in this moment — a tiny one in the long run of your life — of knowing you’ve provided for those you hold dear and, despite the strife and stress and endless planning, you have a communal bonding moment over your rustic culinary efforts, the table a truce place setting, a few hours that are hopefully conflict-free where you can live in an idyllic familial fantasy of grace.

PIECES OF APRIL ends with a montage of photographs, memorializing the day, recording the above feelings for posterity, not just for the family, but also for whatever comes next. It’s a very simple, no-fuss film, but one that resonates with truth and the hardships of willing the endeavor of bringing everyone to the table, of making the effort in service of others. In other words: the perfect Thanksgiving film.

“One April day we’ll go miles away

and I’ll turn to you and say

I’ve always loved you in my way.

I’ll always love you in my way.”

Stephen Merritt

HALT AND CATCH FIRE: Signal to Noise -S04E02- (2017)

November 3, 2023

HALT AND CATCH FIRE was a very little-watched show about brilliant folks navigating Silicon Valley at the beginning of the personal computer revolution, as well as the burgeoning world of the Internet.

There is a lot of strife on display in the show, especially between Joe who is a wanna-be Steve Jobs with severe emotional issues, played by the charismatic Lee Pace, and Cameron — Cam — an exceptional programmer who also has a creative heart. Mackenzie Davis, who embodies Cam, reflects the spark in one’s eyes when they have a revelation. She adeptly conveys the frustration that she constantly feels, partially because of the modern male-dominated tech industry, but also because she does not like to feel boxed in.

Signal to Noise — the second episode of the final season — encapsulates the heart of the show. Its focus is on a phone call between Cam and Joe. Cam calls Joe late at night because of recent life changes. They start talking. Cam falls asleep on her tethered, corded phone without hanging up. Joe stays on the line via his chunky cellular phone until she wakes up in the morning.

When she does wake up, they talk for hours and hours, learning more about each other, feeling each other out and comforting each other.

That’s the underlying theme of HALT AND CATCH FIRE, that technology can be used to communicate and bring folks together in ways that were previously impossible.

I told my wife that she should really watch this episode, despite the fact that she hadn’t watched much of the show previously.

When she watched it, she remarked:

“That’s us.”

My wife and I first met through friends. It was not matchmaking — she was friends with folks I’d recently met and she was in town for a very short time, but knew she’d return a few months later.

All of us went to an ATARI TEENAGE RIOT show and were showered with Alec Empire’s backwash, which is something you more readily accept when you’re young than say, now.

Matters escalated but not the way you think, and that’s all I’ll say about that.

My now-wife tracked down my phone number via directory assistance, which I doubt you can do now.

I answered the call via a very 90s translucent, candy-colored, nicotine-stained corded phone and we would talk for hours. Not two or three hours, but over ten hours and until dawn, much like Joe and Cam.

We’ve been together for many, many years now. We’ve always worked together, from wrangling bands to putting on club nights, to day drinking while going garagesaling, playing GRIM FANDANGO and SYBERIA together, reading each other’s writing drafts and wrangling fabric and aiding in non-conventional public artworks and even being on TV. We have done a lot together — we have put in a lot of work — and I’m proud of what we have accomplished as partners.

We were married on this very day, ten years ago.

If you’ve read prior posts, you may have noticed that life has been pretty rocky for me these past few years, and not because of the pandemic. (Yes, that didn’t help.) I’ve been dealing with a lot of therapy, a lot of mental processing, a lot of diagnoses, a lot of internal confrontation and recalibration, and a lot of coping mechanisms. Also, my coming out has only added to the emotional weight.

It has been a lot for her to endure. She’s been there for all of it, communicative and supporting and accepting and loving, even if what I’m going through is sometimes confusing.

If it weren’t for her finding me through technology, by calling me up one night, we might have only met that one weekend and never talked to each other again. Instead, through technology, we were able to learn about each other and feel matters out and we’ve been married for ten years now and, hopefully, many more.

“That’s us.”

Halloween 2023 Postmortem

November 1, 2023

So I fucking did it: 31 days of (mostly) soft horror recommendations! I know this sort of thing is easier for some folks, but damn, I’m fucking exhausted.

As I’ve previously mentioned, my wife and I have a long-running tradition of just tucking in for Halloween, wrangling wings from BW3 a.k.a. Buffalo Wild Wings — sorry, not sorry as their spicy garlic wings are some of the best things on Earth — and eating candy and watching movies.

Beforehand I send her a list of film suggestions that encompass ‘classic’, ‘cult’ and ‘contemporary’ horror films and she chooses three from ‘em based on trailers and descriptions. (I do not want to be one of those asshole dudebros that force works onto others. Also, this year, just like with Horrorclature 2023, they were all cozy horror films.)

So here’s what we decided on this year. (These are just brief notes! I got other shit to do, y’all!)

CLASSIC

VIY (1967)

This is the first Soviet horror film and it’s all spooky witchy folk horror goodness. Goddamn, the production design and casting here is perfect, especially during the three days the philosopher is stuck in a church with a witch. I still can’t believe that the Soviets went ~40 years without making a horror film.

CULT

THE PHANTOM OF PARADISE (1974)

This has been on my watchlist for a while, and we always love a campy musical, and this delivers in a very Brian De Palma way. If you are a film nerd, you know that De Palma is all about extolling works he loves, and this modern rock opera interpretation of THE PHANTOM OF THE OPERA delivers. (I’ll note: it predates Webber’s version by over a decade!) From his split-screens, to his hallmark adoration for Hitchcock, to his fondness of THE WHO’s rock operas and remarkable characters, this is quintessential De Palma and I love it.

Also, it features Jessica Harper, as in motherfucking SUSPIRA lead Jessica Harper. Also in SHOCK TREATMENT! What more could you ask for?

CONTEMPORARY

WEREWOLVES WITHIN (2021)

I rewatched this just a few weeks ago, but I was so stupidly excited to rewatch it again. This film is so, so, so much fun. It is the perfect amalgamation of cast and script and direction and camerawork. It is funny and witty and spooky and occasionally gory and a glorious ride of a film.

ADDENDUM

Due to scheduling matters, we ended up screening the above the weekend before Halloween, but decided to watch one more scary work on Halloween proper, which I already featured yesterday: MILLENNIUM’s The Curse of Frank Black. There’s no trailer or anything, so you’ll have to settle for my write-up:

https://mediaclature.com/2023/10/31/millennium-the-curse-of-frank-black-s02e06/

THE TINGLER (1959)

October 27, 2023

I’ve previously penned about William Castle’s cinematic escapades, specifically regarding THE HOUSE ON HAUNTED HILL and the influence of Castle on Joe Dante’s work (and THE TINGLER? Definitely an influence. You can see it not only in MATINEE, but also GREMLINS 2).

Yet again, my favorite local arthouse theater — the Music Box — hosted another Castle screening by the same folks (this time presented in Percepto! Whatever that is!), all interactive and enthralling!

If you are or have been an avid MYSTERY SCIENCE THEATER 3000 viewer, you’ve seen THE TINGLER before. They, well, they do eviscerate it. Despite a rocky premise and a number of clumsy lines and awkward special effects, it’s far smarter than they give it credit.

The always magnanimous Vincent Price is a scientist who is investigating the physiological logistics of fear. He postulates that fear is imbued by a creature — the titular Tingler — that only manifests itself when one is terrified. He sets out to prove his point, and matters escalate.

I don’t need to tell you that Price is amazing here — he always shows up and gives his all, no matter the material — but the film is surprisingly gorgeous, especially the print that we saw. The contrast of blacks and whites are measured but effective; there’s a surprising amount of center-framing, and well, everyone just looks splendid, even the Tingler! (Yes, the Tingler definitely is poorly puppeteered, but the design is great and it glistens like it’s real!)

What is most astounding about this work — and unfairly discounted — is its reliance on a deaf and mute individual. This is one of the earlier genre films I can think of that utilizes ASL and deafness as a plot point without belittling the character. Said character is the wife of an older man, and together they pointedly run a theater that exclusively shows silent movies. Her husband mostly communicates with her via ASL, despite the fact that she can read lips.

(I will note that this film does slightly disparage her by briefly labeling her as ‘deaf and dumb’. She is not dumb.)

This is a film that explicitly asks you to scream at certain points. (I’ll note, everyone at the Music Box gamely participated, myself included! It was a lot of fun!) However, the crux of the film is centered around a woman who cannot scream, who has no voice, who can only communicate via visual motions. What’s more filmic than that?

Castle gets a lot of shit for being a schlocky, gimmicky director. Yes, he definitely more than leaned into that, but hell, so did Hitchcock. Did Castle rig up electrical shocks in theater seats to thrill audiences? Yes. Did I attend a screening featuring a number of campy interactive performances, solely meant to titillate? Yes. However, the work does have an empathic heart beating under the schlock.

If you do choose to watch THE TINGLER, please bear that in mind.

DOCTOR X (1932)

October 25, 2023

DOCTOR X, directed by endlessly exhausted motherfucking Michael Curtiz — oh, did you know he also directed a little film named CASABLANCA? Also, well over a hundred other films? — is mostly notable for its technical details as opposed to its plot, which is wildly chaotic.

If you are older than 12, you’re probably familiar with the traditional Technicolor film look; it’s all vividly colorful and eye-popping and glorious. THE WIZARD OF OZ would be nothing without Technicolor.

That’s not how Technicolor started out. While it was one of the first non-hand tinted color film processes — in the early days of film, folks actually hand-colored individual frames, or entire reels were dunked in dye — it started as a two-color rendition, which was rather garish, mostly a glowing green and a ruddy red-brown.

While those hues were novel, they didn’t quite suit most dramas or comedies being produced by Warner Bros. who had signed an exclusive agreement with Technicolor. Then they realized: “Hey those Universal horror films seem to be doing well, and they’re just black-and-white. Let’s give that a go!”

As a result, the world received DOCTOR X and THE MYSTERY OF THE WAX MUSEUM (which was later adapted as HOUSE OF WAX). They didn’t set the world on fire like Universal horror films, but folks did take note of them.

For a long time, the only way to watch either of them were via shit transfers of deteriorated prints. The vibrancy of the Technicolor process? Nowhere to be seen. Two-color Technicolor? More like one-color Technicolor. When I said they were shit transfers? They were shit-colored, all brown and muddy and not at all appealing.

UCLA, as they often do (along with significant backing) took considerable measures to restore both films to their prior glory. The two colors glow in a singular way that you simply don’t see in films. It’s a very specific look. However, if a film isn’t shot with that in mind, if it’s shot thinking ‘oh, this is full color’ then, well, it’ll look ill-designed and flawed.

That isn’t the case with DOCTOR X. This film was shot by Ray Rennahan, an early master of the Technicolor process. His deft handling of lighting and hues is what makes DOCTOR X exceptional. Plot-wise, DOCTOR X is definitely bizarre and intriguing while at the same time being more than a bit staid and boring. While it’s essentially the tale of a Jekyll-and-Hyde serial killer mystery sussed out by cops and scientists, the means of how they do so are rather twisted and involve a lot of handcuffs and chairs and re-enactments for what I can only deduce as dramatic intent. However, it’s also injected with a lot of pratfalls, poorly conceived attempts at humor, stuttering pacing, and a terrible romantic subplot that even scream queen Fay Wray can’t make work.

While the use of color is the star here, the sets bolster the film. They’re all angular, stark and all over-powering in a German expressionist way. They’re mesmerizing and striking and compelling and draw you into a scene in ways the script fail to do so.

In other words: this is a film where the production values justify its existence, and this restoration does the film justice and returns it to its former glory.

POSTSCRIPT

I’ll note that, even when Technicolor finally mastered full-color, it was mostly via extremely complex and very heavy cameras that shot scenes on three reels — one red, one green, one blue — and it was optically combined in post. Think about that when you see push-ins in films of the late 30s and 40s.

Yeah, and you think CGI FX artists have it rough.

Lastly: I had this film slated for Horrorclature 2023 before I noticed that my local favorite art house theater — the Music Box — would be screening a 35mm print and, of course, I attended. A lot of the finer production details noted above are because of the introduction the programmers at the Chicago Film Society provided. They always do great work and, if you’re in the midwest? They program films not just in Chicago, but all around!

JENNIFER’S BODY (2009)

October 24, 2023

CONTENT WARNING

This film contains depictions of abuse, and this post does briefly note said depictions.

This is a stellar film from Karyn Kusama — whom has helmed so many extraordinary pieces such as GIRLFIGHT, THE INVITATION, as well as the best eps of YELLOWJACKETS — and writer motherfucking Diablo Cody. It deftly navigates teenage changes, teen popularity dynamics, and the intensity of youthful friendship. It’s supremely quippy in the way that post-JUNO Diablo Cody is, and it’s bloody and it’s a lot of fun, but there’s a lot under the surface.

If you aren’t familiar with the film: Jennifer, perfectly embodied by Megan Fox, is a high-school cheerleader, all hot and popular, and Needy — a surprisingly dorky Amanda Seyfried — are best friends, and have been since they were children.

“Sandbox love never dies.”

Jennifer lusts after an emo band, helmed by the O.C.’S Adam Brody gamely reveling in swarm. Jennifer convinces Needy to attend the show and, after a terrible fire breaks out at the bar and kills a bunch of people, said emo band woos Jennifer into their van, then sacrifices her so they can gain illegitimate infamy through Satan.

They thought Jennifer was a virgin. Jennifer? Not a virgin.

Jennifer is reborn as a blood-lust demon and only Needy can see what horrible acts she commits — when others cannot — and matters escalate.

“I thought you only murdered boys?”

“I go both ways.”

I will note that — while I am queer — I am a dude. I know that I am not the right person to discuss the many nuances of this film, so please read Carmen Maria Machado’s take on it and bisexuality and queerbaiting and more. It is an astounding essay that everyone should read, as she uses JENNIFER’S BODY as a launching point to discuss queerness.

“We can understand queerness itself as being filled with the intention to be lost,” Muñoz wrote in Cruising Utopia. “To accept loss is to accept the way in which one’s queerness will always render one lost to a world of heterosexual imperatives, codes, and laws . . . [to] veer away from heterosexuality’s path.”

Carmen Maria Machado

(Machado not only penned one of the greatest modern collection of short stories with HER BODY AND OTHER PARTIES but also IN THE DREAM HOUSE, one of the greatest modern memoirs. These are essential reads, and I implore you to seek them out.)

“I need you frightened. I need you hopeless.”

This is a brazen, angry film that gives queer teen girls agency. Its detail portraying the complexities of young female friendship and more is the heart of the film. The abuse, that of Jennifer being ‘turned’, is certainly the pivot point but is also ancillary. While the emo band are the male aggressors here, you could easily write them out and still have the focal point of the film: the relationship between Jennifer and Needy.

“She can fly?!”

“She’s just hovering. It’s not that impressive.”

“Do you have to undermine everything I do?!”

If you are a film nerd, you know that JENNIFER’S BODY was absolutely and unfairly ignored upon release, mostly because the promotion for the film posited it as cheap, vapid and queerbaiting exploitation horror, instead of the measured character study it actually is. Thankfully, around its tenth anniversary, folks started to realize that it’s a fucking amazing film.

“I am a very different person now. […] A very bad, very damaged person.”

If you haven’t seen it and think it’s just about Megan Fox getting freaky with Amanda Seyfried? It is far more than that. As with all of Kusama and Cody’s works, it has a lot to say, and it does so very violently.

“Kiss someone, fuck someone, think about fucking someone while kissing someone else. Let sex be unknowable, warm, thrilling, funny, erotic, terrifying; let sexuality be all strange currents and eddies and unknown vistas and treasures and teeth. Because, Queer Reader, when Jennifer’s body came for you — publicly, privately, neither, both — it was more than more than enough.”

Carmen Maria Machado

SERIAL MOM (1994) [REDUX]

October 22, 2023

This Sunday’s repost features John Water’s SERIAL MOM, a cutting satire of sympathy towards serial killers and celebrity culture. It also features an astounding cast who are all in on the joke and they lean so far in that you feel that the camera might tip over.

Given the terrible uptick of interest in awful true crime podcasts — don’t get me started — and Netflix sexy serial killer biopics, it was well-ahead of its time. While it has a lot to say about how outsiders view and celebrate dangerous murderers, it is hilarious and — as Waters always does — manages to balance levity with social messaging.

SERIAL MOM (1994)

REPO! THE GENETIC OPERA (2008)

October 16, 2023

Every once in a while I completely miss the mark with a film, and I certainly did so with REPO! THE GENETIC OPERA when I first saw it, fucking fifteen years ago.

“Zydrate comes in a little glass vial.”

“A little glass vial?”

“A little glass vial.”

“And the little glass vial goes into the gun like a battery. /

And the Zydrate gun goes somewhere against your anatomy /

And when the gun goes off it sparks and you’re ready for surgery. Surgery.”

REPO! THE GENETIC OPERA (REPO! going forward) musically portrays a BLADE RUNNER inspired dystopian future where massive organ failures wipes out the bulk of the population. The company GeneCo, run by CEO Rotti Largo, facilitates organ replacement and refinement on a payment plan but, if you miss a payment, they’re legally able to repossess organs by any means necessary.

We’re then introduced to Shilo, an extraordinarily pale Alexa PenaVega, the daughter of Ritto’s ex-fiancée and who has rare blood disease. Shilo is overly sheltered by her father Nathan, sinisterly portrayed by Anthony Steward Head. Matters escalate as everyone — including Rotti’s three desperate children, which includes SKINNY PUPPY’s ogHr — work towards their own self-interests.

“Lungs and livers and bladders and hearts /

You’ll always save a bundle when you buy our genetic parts /

Spleens and intestines and spines and brains /

High are our prices but our quality’s the same”

As stated right in the title, this is an opera — a goth-as-fuck rock opera — and has all of the trappings of one: it’s wall-to-wall extremely infectious, emotional goth/industrial songs and Greek chorus and family melodrama.

“My brother and sister should fuck.”

I attended a screening of it at the Music Box as part of the REPO! Road Tour with a post-film Q&A that included director director Darren Lynn Bousman and it grated on me. I found the film sweaty, especially the gaussian blur which felt unnecessarily tacky, despite that it seems to be trying to recreate the look of nitrate film. I did appreciate the moxie of those behind the production, especially Bousman’s efforts which absolutely took advantage of his directorial access to SAW IV’s sets and resources in order to realize REPO!.

“I’m infected /

By your genetics /

And I don’t think that I can be fixed /

No, I don’t think that I can be fixed /

Oh, tell me why, oh /

Why are my genetics such a bitch.”

Upon a recent rewatch, I realized my initial opinion was gravely wrong. Since my first watch, I’ve become a fan of musicals so I was able to greatly appreciate the influence of Sondheim’s SWEENEY TODD, the patter inspired by THE MUSIC MAN’s Meredith Willson, the drama of Andrew Lloyd Webber, the driven emotion of Les Misérables, even the rich history of pirate songs, and a hilariously sick sense of humor. This time around, I saw how it lovingly leaned on the structure of opera and I was here for it.

“DECAF?! I will shoot you in the face!”

I still don’t love the gaussian filter that distracts from the extremely striking makeup and fetish costume design; the Repo Man outfit is especially well-executed. There is way too much exposition, often doled out by finely illustrated comic panels almost certainly included because of budgetary constraints. While I tried to be as concise as possible regarding the plot, this is an extremely dense and ambitious work with all sorts of intertwined conflicts and duplicity and back-story that can feel both overwhelming while also feeling unnecessary.

“How’d you do that?”

“Do what?”

“That eye thing.”

“These eyes can do more than see.”

“I know. I mean, I’ve seen you sing.”

“Where?”

“From my window. I can see the world from there /

Name the stars and constellations /

Count the cars and watch the seasons.”

With this rewatch, I simply allowed the film to wash over me and I loved it. There are so many great lines and songs in it and when the exposition lets up, it finds a fantastic flow that will leave you breathless.

“Your mother would be proud, rest her soul, would be so proud of you /

Though you cannot see her /

She is here with you /

We will always be there for you in your time of need /

Shilo, you mean the world to me.”

Paul Sorvino’s work here as Rotti Largo is remarkable. He takes it far more seriously than need be given his stature, all sinister and greed but occasionally sensitive, and his voice will blow you away.

“Maggots. Vermin. /

You want the world for nothing. /

Commence your groveling, your king is dying. /

Rotti, your king, is dying. /

Even Rotti Largo cannot prevent this passing. /

Who will inherit GeneCo? /

I’ll keep those vultures guessing. /

I’ll keep those vultures guessing.”

This is a quintessential passion project. It originated as a theater production shepherded into existence by Darren Smith, then a short film from Darren Lynn Bousman, then this astounding feature film. I’ve noted that often music-centric productions — such as the film adaptation of CATS — have a scrappy charm to them. That sort of pluck and charm is absolutely on display here, that exacting belief in the batshitcrazy creation you want to put in-front of people. I was not prepared for REPO! the first time I saw it, but give it a chance. I was deadly wrong about it the first time around and hopefully you’ll revel in its charms.

“Flesh is weak /

Blood is cheap.”

ADDENDUM

The excellent magazine and website RUE MORGUE has an interview with director Darren Lynn Bousman, looking back on REPO! fifteen years after its release. This interview was the impetus for my rewatch and, consequently, this recommendation!