Nostalgiaville: “Casper”

All kids love scary stories. The millions of us who grew up devouring “Goosebumps” books can attest to that. During my formative years, I read tons of books and watched lots of movies about ghosts and goblins and creepy things that live under the bed, hoping that one day I might discover one myself. I know I wasn’t alone, because the 90s provided us with a few releases that dealt with just that: young kids in sleepy small towns discovering ghosts, witches, and all manner of supernatural kookiness in their own backyards. Of these, the one I remember watching the most was 1995’s “Casper,” the big-screen adaptation of a classic cartoon about a lonely little ghost who just wants a friend.

Revisiting “Casper” was a weird exercise, because it’s difficult to seriously critique family films, especially when they’ve got big flaws. There’s always a desire to be forgiving of kids’ movies in ways you wouldn’t be of movies for adults. In the brilliant Videogum column “Hunt for the Worst Movie of all Time,” writer/victim Gabe Delahaye avoids children’s movies for that very reason—they may be bad, but they’re not made for adults with developed tastes. Still, one wonders why studios would even consider trying to push obvious crap on younger audiences simply because they won’t pick up on a movie’s issues (i.e.: Monkey Trouble). I think there’s a nasty kind of wrongheadedness to that position. But I digress.

Now, to be fair, “Casper” isn’t obvious crap. As a kid, I greatly enjoyed it, despite the fact that I remember being confused by some themes that I found even more confusing as an adult. I’m not sure who this movie’s intended audience was, but I do know this movie missed whatever mark it was aiming for, since there are some odd themes that take the movie in two polar-opposite directions at the same time.

The setup: an implausibly huge condemned mansion in Maine is bequeathed to a screechy villain played by Cathy Moriarty. Her lawyer, Eric Idle, discovers that the house contains buried treasure, suddenly making the property a lot more appealing. But before they go digging for gold, the conniving pair has to rid the house of some pesky ghosts (Casper and his three obnoxious “uncles”). After a couple of failed professional removals, Moriarty and Idle hire Bill Pullman, a shrink who specializes in helping spirits pass on. He’s like an attractive John Edward who wears dad cardigans. By the way, in case you’re wondering, Bill Pullman does still manage to look good dressed like Mr. Rogers. He moves in to the condemned house—safety hazards be damned!—with his young daughter, Christina Ricci, who befriends Casper as her dad goes about discussing unfinished business with the three not-so-friendly spirits.

Initially, my quibbles were minor. The “realistic adult” in me wondered a little bit about the quality of the house itself. In this movie, “condemned” must just mean “dusty.” The house seems like it should be a wasteland of mold and hazardous chemicals, but it all appears to be in working order, complete with electricity and upholstery that somehow hasn’t faded or succumbed to moths. There was also some inconsistency about the physical properties of ghosts: at one point Casper’s hand goes right through Ricci’s, but later he’s able to grab her by the ankle and lift her off the ground. He’s also handy in the kitchen.

But the true problems with “Casper” go beyond building safety and scientific accuracy. I mentioned earlier that the movie goes in several directions at once. They mostly stem from this issue: “Casper” can’t decide whether it should be, as Owen Gleiberman puts it, a “hellzapoppin’ funhouse jamboree,” or a poignant story about love, loss and coming-of-age. So it tries to be both, and the result is uneven. Funny scenes end with touchy-feely sentimentality that kind of ruins the mood, often followed by sophomoric slapstick that falls flat (for example, any scene featuring Moriarty and Idle).

There’s also the issue of the central relationship between Ricci and her ethereal BFF: both Casper and Ricci are supposed to be around 12 years old, but their feelings towards each other are clearly more than platonic. It feels like a bit too much. Granted, they aren’t out-of-the-ordinary emotions for seventh-graders, but here’s the thing: at age 12, I wouldn’t have been interested in a movie like “Casper.” At age 7, I definitely was. However, back then I was more into hellzapoppin’ funhouse jamborees than semi-serious discussions about sensitive feelings. It’s a problem I remember having when I first saw the movie that carried over to my reactions as an adult. This weird Catch-22 puts “Casper” in an awkward position that only gets worse as the movie continues.

I suppose that in the spectrum of revisited children’s movies, “Casper” is one that doesn’t hold up to much scrutiny. It’s got issues. There are parts that are definitely aimed at the elementary-school crowd that induce eye-rolling from adults, but there are also some gushy moments that seem to be trying to give the movie some emotional legitimacy, but just end up making both the adults and the kids feel uncomfortable. Given how much of the latter there is in “Casper,” I’m kind of surprised I enjoyed this movie at all back in 1995. I guess I can chalk it up to that deep-rooted love of spooky stories—that and a fully-furnished haunted house the size of Connecticut.

Random observations:

-It’s worth noting that, in a bizarre attempt to appeal to the adults in the room, the failed ghost-removals early in the film are performed by none other than Father Guido Sarducci and Dan Aykroyd as Ray Stantz from “Ghostbusters.”

I know this is beside the point, but any “Ghostbusters” fan worth their salt will tell you that if you want a ghost removed correctly, you hire Egon Spengler. Just saying.

-In addition to “Casper” being based on a classic cartoon, this movie begat its own animated spinoff, which I actually remember enjoying more than the movie.

- “Casper” was also followed up with a couple of direct-to-video sequels, including “Casper Meets Wendy,” starring a pre-“Lizzie McGuire” Hilary Duff. Has anyone seen that? Because I have not.

-Despite mixed reviews, one thing critics did agree on was that “Casper” had some pretty good special effects, ghost-wise. For its time, I suppose it did. Those ghosts look pretty ghosty. But other parts show just how far we still had to come. Exhibit A:

-Finally: a great big fat thank you to Owen Gleiberman for introducing the phrase “hellzapoppin’ funhouse jamboree,” a term I vow to never, ever forget, into my vocabulary.

Plan 9 Cinema: Gymkata

I love the 80s for a lot of reasons—the music, for one thing, the clothes for another. But mostly I love it for the movies, particularly because the peak of the Cold War provided Hollywood with plenty of ideas, some good, others…not so much. The resulting movies generally fall into two groups: the science-y super nerd movies like “Real Genius,” and the militant “let’s get those commie bastards” movies like “Red Dawn.” While the science-y movies tended to take a more long-term view on the potential negative effects of building up a nuclear arsenal (go figure), the militant movies took no such view. They were all about defeating the enemy and spreading the gospel of capitalism at any cost. These movies are over-the-top, cartoonish works to begin with; never mind the fact that they don’t age well. In other words, they’re easy pickings for jokes.

Enter this week’s Plan 9 pick: “Gymkata” a movie that combines all the weirdest bits of popular 80s action movies with that desire to kick some soviet ass, and creates an awesomely bad, collapsed soufflé of a movie. “Gymkata” is bad in the way of the best terrible movies. Think “Bloodsport” with the production values of “Troll 2,” and you’ve got some idea of what it’s like. Although it may not be as widely known, it’s absolutely required viewing for any bad movie aficionado.

The story: American gymnast Jonathan Cabot (real-life Olympic Gymnast Kurt Thomas) is recruited by the U.S. Government to take part in a deadly race known as “The Game” held in the obscure (read: imaginary) country of Parmistan. The military wants to use the country as a site for the Star Wars program, and hope to gain the permission of the Parmistanian people by having Cabot win the contest (the prize is that the ruler of Parmistan will grant any single request made by the winner). Apparently other countries have gotten wind of this, and think it’s a great idea, so Cabot will be competing against a set of similarly motivated international representatives, including this guy:

His name, by the way, is Thorg. I think he’s supposed to be a gymnast, too, but I don’t see how that’s possible, considering he’s built like a Mack truck.

In addition to working through a bunch of dangerous obstacles, the competitors have to travel through “The Village of the Damned,” where the Parmistanians send their criminally insane. It’s a surprisingly highly populated village that includes this charming fellow among their citizenry:

But, believe it or not, Thorg and mudflaps there aren’t the main baddies. This, ladies and gentlemen, is your real villain, Zamir, advisor to the Khan of Parmistan:

Not only are Zamir’s motives nasty, he also sports a rattail that’s criminally bad.

Of course, these are all just your basic B-movie elements. What makes a “Plan 9 Cinema” pick has to go beyond the superficial, and into the realm of the truly, deeply, terrible. And there’s plenty of material that takes it there.

Let’s start with the casting: I kind of get Kurt Thomas as the hero. You want a skilled gymnast, you hire a skilled gymnast. Fine. But then we have Richard Norton, an Australian, playing Zamir, not bothering for one second to sound like he’s from anywhere but Australia. Buck Kartalian plays the Khan of Parmistan like he’s Mel Brooks in “Blazing Saddles.” He just kind of wanders around, looking vaguely amused at the fact that he’s even there at all. His daughter, Cabot’s romantic interest, is Asian—passed off early on as having an Indonesian mother, which still makes no sense.

Then there’s that pervading sense of patriotism. My favorite reference to this is a passing mention the Khan’s daughter makes of “the Twenties,” apparently a group of young Parmistanians who want the country to join the 20th century, because let’s face it, folks, westernization is basically the best thing ever. We never hear anything about these young rebels again, nor do we see them. But apparently they exist. And, of course, the whole purpose of Cabot taking part in The Game is to help the U.S. build up its defense systems. And we know he’s successful because this is the final shot:

AMERICA!

In terms of brilliantly awful filmmaking, “Gymkata” has it all. Dated political ideology? Check. Martial arts? Check. Substandard writing, acting and plotting? Check, check and check. Also, ninjas on horseback. There is nothing missing. Nothing. “Gymkata” is the perfect bad movie on every level. Watch it and feel your heart sink with shame at bullheaded American worldviews as your soul takes flight with the knowledge that we make terrible films like nobody else on Earth. Go USA.

Link:

Gymkommentary: a MST3K-style blog co-created by IFC News’ Matt Singer, inspired by his love of Gymkata (his enthusiasm was what led me to this gem of a movie–thanks, Matt!)

The Non-Fiction Section: Wisconsin Death Trip

If I’ve learned anything from writing this blog, it’s that documentaries are a surprisingly versatile genre of filmmaking. The stories they tell are true, but the way in which that story is told could be any of a variety of ways. There’s the cut-and-dried journalistic approach—talking heads, photos, and archival footage. There’s verite filmmaking, where the camera simply follows a subject around and the director records what they see. Then there are the numerous ways filmmakers play with these forms, combining them or even manipulating the element of truth on the screen, causing the audience to wonder what’s real and what’s not.

Among these form-experimenters, James Marsh, the director of such movies as “Man on Wire” and the much-buzzed-about “Project Nim,” is kind of unique. His element of choice is re-enactment, bringing narration and archived photos to life by illustrating the story being told. The concept may seem a little corny—usually it’s a poorly-done gimmick associated with shows like “America’s Most Wanted” and “I Didn’t Know I Was Pregnant,” but with Marsh, it’s tastefully done, engaging approach to storytelling. It’s a tactic used with disturbing effectiveness on “Wisconsin Death Trip,” Marsh’s 1999 debut feature (before this he’d been working on TV docs for the BBC). The film is about a Wisconsin town at the end of the 19th century that experienced a set of incidents so bizarre and creepy that even Mulder and Scully would be scratching their heads in confusion.

Each one of the dozens of stories in “Wisconsin Death Trip,” all told either through the town’s historical record, newspaper, or records from the Mendota Asylum for the Insane, sound like the kinds of stories you tell around a campfire to spook little kids. A former schoolteacher travels around the state impulsively breaking windows and snorting cocaine to calm her nerves. A new father goes out drinking to celebrate the birth of his son, then returns drunk, dashes out the baby’s brains, and attempts to strangle his wife. Loads of immigrant farmers kill themselves out of desperation. None of these events are ever explained—in fact, it’s probable that they were all but forgotten until Michael Lesy discovered the articles in the 70s and turned them into the book on which this documentary is based. The idea that these horrible acts faded from history like the photographs they accompany is sad and eerie—the viewer feels much the way Lesy must have felt upon his discovery of this material.

To bring these accounts back to startling life, Marsh has actors play out many of the documented crimes (minus the infanticide, of course) as a set of beautifully shot, silent movie-style tableaux, an unsettling move that puts the events into a kind of context. It’s one thing to see photographs of the criminals. It’s another to watch them in the act. Over all of this, narrator Ian Holm recounts these happenings with a sense of surprising nonchalance. The looks on the faces of many of these murderers and insane people are fairly expressionless, too. The result is that we see a lot of awful things happening, but that nobody seems to care much. These incidents of madness and murder become so commonplace that they’re just another inch of text in the paper.

If there’s any part of the film that feels misguided, it’s in the occasional sequences that depict modern-day Black River Falls. Apparently these sequences are meant to tie the town’s past and present together, and suggest that perhaps the same weird factors still exist. But the current town doesn’t seem nearly as stark and scary as the footage or photographs we’re shown—it just looks like a normal small town. In this respect, it’s not surprising that “Wisconsin Death Trip” was Marsh’s first major release effort. It feels like the work of someone who’s still figuring out how to express himself through his work.

“Wisconsin Death Trip” is the documentary equivalent of a ghost story, the kind of thing Ken Burns might make if he read a lot of Edgar Allan Poe. It’s not meant to make us re-examine our lives, or expose us to an issue we’d never heard about before. It is, however an odd little document of a period of American history that’s largely been swept under the rug. As a piece of entertainment, it’s a neat, thoughtful diversion that leaves a faint whiff of creepiness behind it. In the chronology of Marsh’s work, it’s an interesting early example of the form he’s continued to use with great success.

Scene-Stealers Review: “Family Instinct”

I mentioned yesterday that I’d be posting a full review of the movie “Family Instinct” that screened at the True/False festival last week. Well, here it is! Sink your teeth in.

Special Post: 2011 True/False Film Festival Wrap-up

(Taken from truefalse.org)

Last week, I spent four days volunteering at the True/False Film Festival in Columbia, Missouri. True/False is a documentary film festival that’s been around for eight years now, and it’s rapidly becoming known as a very special place for directors to bring their films. Because of True/False’s small-town location, and a support base that consists largely of local businesses and donors, the festival has a laid-back atmosphere, and an audience that consists largely of laypeople. It’s an opportunity for filmmakers to present their work to the everyday folks who make up their intended audience, and to get their honest feedback. There are also plenty of concerts and special events tied in to the festival, making the overall experience the equivalent of a four-day party. This was my first year attending True/False, and I was completely impressed by how easy it was to watch movies, meet filmmakers and hobnob with audience members. I’ve already decided that I’ll be returning next year.

The films at this year’s festival were a diverse group, including both high-profile titles that will get a bigger release later this year, and lesser-known but still exciting debuts. I had some surprising experiences both in and out of the screenings. Here are a few highlights from what I saw:

Project Nim

“Project Nim” is the latest release from James Marsh, who won an Academy Award two years ago for the excellent documentary “Man on Wire.” “Nim” tells the story of the titular character, a chimpanzee taken from his mother and raised by humans as a language and behavior experiment. It’s a bittersweet story—Nim, as with other chimpanzee experiment subjects, had to be put in captivity at a research facility at age 5, after his natural behavior started causing problems. The rest of the documentary follows what happened after that initial move, as well as the lives of the scientists who worked to ensure his well-being. It’s a solid film, perhaps not as entertaining or stirring as “Man on Wire,” but still an artfully done piece of work that tells a fascinating story. It’s being released by HBO Documentary Films, so look for it later this year.

The Arbor

This creative documentary was a festival favorite for a lot of people. Director Clio Barnard’s film is about playwright Andrea Dunbar, who grew up in a tough neighborhood in Yorkshire, wrote two highly acclaimed plays, and died very young, leaving behind three children from three different fathers. Barnard tells this story through a series of audio interviews lip-synched by actors, mixed together with re-enacted scenes from Dunbar’s debut play, “The Arbor.”

This allows for some interesting interpretations of Barnard’s interviews and the interviewees, creating subtle staging that adds an unexpected amount of twists and dramatic heft to the proceedings. It’s not a perfect movie—the last half drags on longer than necessary, and the staged scenes from the play are inconsistently placed—but it’s an interesting experiment that obviously had a lot of thought put into it. Dunbar’s work isn’t well known in the states, but this movie made me want to find out more about her.

Extra feature: BBC Radio’s Mark Kermode talks about “The Arbor”

Subway Preacher

An engaging character study about the nature of faith and its interpretations. “Subway Preacher” is a shorter doc that lets audiences into the life of Brian (I know, I know), a charismatic man of God who preaches the gospel in the New York City subway with his partner in ministry, Shawn, and Brian’s wife Rose. Brian and Rose are living on his brother’s couch, since Brian is broke from quitting his doorman job in service of his preaching.

Brian becomes enamored of a Columbia grad student, Kaitlin, and grows increasingly frustrated with Rose, who in turn is frustrated with the lifestyle Brian has created for them. Brian and Shawn are indicative of most subway preachers: loud obnoxious nutjobs with bibles who, at the end of the day, don’t really end up converting anyone. “Subway Preacher” provides an interesting look into the lifestyle and personal beliefs of this character, allowing us to understand him in a way we’d never get to otherwise.

Family Instinct

This shorter documentary was my favorite of the festival. Its gritty subject and straightforward approach caused the festival promoters to describe it as “the documentary Harmony Korine wishes he’d made,” but it goes deeper than that. Korine’s movies are exploitative, nasty and disrespectful. Andris Gauja’s film may not be pleasant, but I don’t see it as exploitative or disrespectful at all. The film is about a year in the life of Zanda, a woman who’s had two children by her brother, Valdis, who’s in jail for abusing them. It’s a shocking, no-holds-barred, and strangely entertaining movie about a class of people who often go ignored by society. I’ve written a full review of the movie for Scene-Stealers, and will post the link here when it’s up.

Troll Hunter

A few eyebrows were raised by festival-goers when they discovered that this Norwegian movie wasn’t actually a documentary, but it served as a nice palate-cleanser after the rest of True/False’s heavy, heady entries. “Troll Hunter” is, in fact, a fictional movie told in a documentary style, part of the faux-found footage trend inspired by “The Blair Witch Project.” Three Norwegian film students set out to do a Michael-Moore style film about a poacher who’s been killing bears. But when they tail the man they suspect on a midnight hunt, they discover that he’s not what they thought he was. He is, in fact, a troll hunter hired by the government to exterminate trolls who have been terrorizing local livestock. It’s a really fun, whimsical film, and the special effects are creative and impressive. It’s been making the festival rounds since last year, but will be distributed by Magnet, so it’s guaranteed a theatrical release.

So, that was my True/False experience last week! Some of these movies and directors may show up in longer “Non-Fiction Section” reviews, so keep an eye out. Overall, I had a wonderful time, and came out with some new experiences, new friends and a bunch of good stories. I’m counting down the days until the next festival.

“That Guy” file #5: Keith David

Where you’ve seen/heard him: The Cape, Platoon, Crash, The Princess and the Frog, Death at a Funeral (Labute), Coraline, ATL, Mr. and Mrs. Smith, Requiem for a Dream, The Chronicles of Riddick, Pitch Black, Dead Presidents, The Quick and the Dead, the go-to narrator for Ken Burns docs including “Unforgivable Blackness: The Rise and Fall of Jack Johnson,” “Mark Twain,” “The War,” and “Jazz.”

Keith David is a creepy looking guy. At least, I’ve always thought so. He just looks like he could beat you down and not even break a sweat. His deep, gravelly voice doesn’t help matters, nor does the fact that he first came to my attention as drug dealer/pimp Big Tim in “Requiem for a Dream.” It’s hard to shake a rep like that. In fact (or maybe this is just me), Big Tim (and characters like him) is the definition of the kind of acting David does best. It’d be hard to think of a person better suited to that role, simultaneously a threatening bruiser and a smooth-talker, the kind of guy who can get away with anything he wants. You see that same kind of dual intensity in many of David’s roles—he’s played cops, crooks, federal agents and soldiers, men who lead tough lives and are used to getting by through intimidation.

I’m much more comfortable with David’s voice work, both as an actor and as a narrator. In the 90s, he lent his voice to the kids’ show “Gargoyles,” (a show I rarely missed as a child), and, more recently, to “Coraline,” where he played a world-wise cat, and “The Princess and the Frog,” going back to creep-out mode as a villainous witch doctor. On the Documentary front, David’s won Emmys for his work on Ken Burns’ movies, and has become a defining feature of the director’s films. Weirdly enough, that voice that gives you the willies normally is actually pretty pleasant by itself, informative, dynamic and even (at times) comforting.

In the schools of “That Guy,” I’m going to put Keith David in the Vincent Schiavelli area: a ubiquitous, easily recognizable actor with a distinctive face and voice that color the kinds of roles he gets. It runs both ways. In acting roles, he can play the intimidator. In voice work, he can come across as authoritative and interesting. In either case, they’ve added up to a long, diverse career.

Special note: I’m volunteering at the True/False Film Festival in Columbia, Missouri this week, starting tomorrow! I’ll try and have a special post next week detailing my adventures.