Tuesday, August 17, 2010

Where Have All the Summer Cinema Singles Gone?

The following is my contribution to the ambitious Large Association of Movie Blogs' Summer Movie Blog-a-Thon, created by Kate from Silents and Talkies, and alerted to me by my ever-faithful correspondent Simon and her punchy blog Four of Them. As described by its creator, the theme of this blog-a-thon is simply to reminisce on beloved childhood movies and memories.


Egads, where to begin??? My first firm memories of going to the theatre to see stuff other than Disney movies are all summer-based. 1977 was of course the summer that yielded the two greatest movies a boy of that era ever experienced: STAR WARS and SMOKEY AND THE BANDIT; a year later, at the dawn of VCR ownership, my father even managed to obtain a bootleg VHS tape with both movies on it recorded in LP mode that I must have watched dozens of times. And from there, movies that were released during the summer carried a special magic feeling that was never quite equalled at any other time of year, not even at Christmas. Summer was when you were free from school, from curfews, and the cinemas promised you John Hughes, Jason Voorhees, Burt Reynolds, Bill Murray, Sylvester Stallone, science fiction, sexy girls, and other delights to occupy all that time away from adolt edgeamacation.

Most summer movies still promise some similar variation of that list of childhood loves. This year alone, my inner child has eagerly devoured the works of Pixar, Edgar Wright, Christopher Nolan, Will Ferrell, mutant offspring, bisexual hackers, and heck, even Bill Murray and Sylvester Stallone were still hangin' around. And before the leaves turn gold, I can still look forward to 3-D piranhas, rogue priests, Inglourious Romeans and vengeful Mexicans.

But there's one thing I know won't be forthcoming that used to be in large supply as a kid: a great summer soundtrack jam. Just as much as going to the swimming pool or the cinema, a big joy of my summer was buying '45's and albums and wearing out the grooves and tape playing the songs that were blasting in Dolby Stereo from the nearest multiplex.

I'm aware that it's one small symptom of the otherwise great musical malaise in America - major record labels clutch to outdated practices despite being in their death throes, getting a single onto any radio station is a task akin to mice belling a cat, and music lovers are so fractionalized into micro-genres that outside of the high-fructose corn syrup factory called "AMERICAN IDOL," we flat-out have no kind of American songbook or wide-appeal artist to unite behind - but if there is one thing that saddens me enormously in my middle age, it's the loss of the hit movie theme song. There are still great songs to be heard in movies, and people still buy them on CDs or mp3 downloads, but the days when you and all your friends would be listening to the radio or watching TV, and you'd hear that theme song from the fun movie you saw a couple weeks ago, and start singing along and remembering the great time you had, and maybe even think, "Hey, let's go see it again! Why not?" are gone, gone, literally gone.

Yes, if you want to be blunt, a summer movie theme is ultimately another marketing tool, just a piece of merchandising that was once effective in generating a "bandwagon" mentality among consumers and has now been replaced by newer memetics. And not every song that emerged from a movie was even that good; let's be honest, we've heard way too goddamn much of Ray Parker Jr. and "Ghostbusters" to last multiple generations. But when they were effective, every time that song came on, you could go back to your favorite scenes without buying another ticket. If it was an old song strategically inserted into a new film, you were reminded how great that song was and you bought it again and rediscovered it, and that artist got new fans and a second wind on the county fair circuit.

Not to overpower you, because lists are not literature, but contemplate this block of my childhood, from my breakout year of 1977 to starting college in 1987, and look at all these summer movies with all these songs that in varying degrees have become united in our memory and part of iPod shuffle plays and karaoke marathons...

1977
"New York, New York" - NEW YORK, NEW YORK (people forget this was a movie theme)
"Nobody Does it Better" - THE SPY WHO LOVED ME
"East Bound and Down" - SMOKEY AND THE BANDIT
"You Light Up My Life" - YOU LIGHT UP MY LIFE

1978
"Last Dance" - THANK GOD IT'S FRIDAY
"Got to Get You Into My Life" (Earth Wind & Fire cover) - SGT. PEPPER'S LONELY HEARTS CLUB BAND
multiple songs - GREASE
"Ready to Take a Chance Again" - FOUL PLAY
"Shout!" - NATIONAL LAMPOON'S ANIMAL HOUSE

1979
"The Main Event" - THE MAIN EVENT
"Are You Ready for the Summer" - MEATBALLS
"The Rainbow Connection" - THE MUPPET MOVIE
"Always Look on the Bright Side of Life" - MONTY PYTHON'S LIFE OF BRIAN

1980
"Fame" - FAME
"I'm Alright" - CADDYSHACK
multiple songs - THE BLUES BROTHERS
multiple songs - XANADU

1981
"For Your Eyes Only" - FOR YOUR EYES ONLY
"Best That You Can Do" - ARTHUR
"Endless Love" - ENDLESS LOVE
multiple songs - HEAVY METAL

1982
"Putting Out the Fire" - CAT PEOPLE
"Eye of the Tiger" - ROCKY III
"Love Will Turn You Around" - SIX PACK
"Hard to Say I'm Sorry", "I'm So Excited" - SUMMER LOVERS
"Up Where We Belong" - AN OFFICER AND A GENTLEMAN
"Somebody's Baby" - FAST TIMES AT RIDGEMONT HIGH
multiple songs - PINK FLOYD THE WALL
multiple songs - THE LAST AMERICAN VIRGIN

1983
"I Melt With You" - VALLEY GIRL
multiple tracks - FLASHDANCE
"Bela Lugosi's Dead" - THE HUNGER
"All Time High" - OCTOPUSSY
"Nights Are Forever" - TWILIGHT ZONE THE MOVIE
"Holiday Road" - NATIONAL LAMPOON'S VACATION
"Far From Over" - STAYING ALIVE
"Old Time Rock'n'Roll" - RISKY BUSINESS

1984
"Ain't No Stoppin' Us" - BREAKIN'
"I Can Dream About You" - STREETS OF FIRE
"Ghostbusters" - GHOSTBUSTERS
"Never-Ending Story" - THE NEVER-ENDING STORY
multiple songs - PURPLE RAIN

1985
"A View to a Kill" - A VIEW TO A KILL
"Goonies R Good Enough" - THE GOONIES
"Man In Motion" - ST. ELMO'S FIRE
"The Power of Love" - BACK TO THE FUTURE
"Invincible" - THE LEGEND OF BILLIE JEAN
"Tequila" - PEE-WEE'S BIG ADVENTURE
"Weird Science" - WEIRD SCIENCE

1986
multiple songs - TOP GUN
"Twist and Shout" - FERRIS BUELLER'S DAY OFF
"Dead Man's Party" - BACK TO SCHOOL
"The Glory of Love" - THE KARATE KID PART II
"Kiss" - UNDER THE CHERRY MOON
"Sweet Freedom" - RUNNING SCARED
"Who Made Who" - MAXIMUM OVERDRIVE
"He's Back (Behind the Mask)" - FRIDAY THE 13TH PART VI: JASON LIVES
"Stand By Me" - STAND BY ME

1987
"Shakedown" - BEVERLY HILLS COP II
"Surfin' Bird" - FULL METAL JACKET
"La Bamba" (Los Lobos cover) - LA BAMBA
"Good Times", "Cry Little Sister" - THE LOST BOYS
"Who's that Girl?" - WHO'S THAT GIRL
"I Heard a Rumor" - DISORDERLIES
multiple songs - DIRTY DANCING


And now try to summon up half as many songs from summer movies within the last ten years that have reached the same level of mass consciousness and adoration. I'm not saying there aren't any - I can think of some from AUSTIN POWERS: THE SPY WHO SHAGGED ME, HEDWIG AND THE ANGRY INCH, MOULIN ROUGE, ONCE - but there's definitely not the wealth of them that I've listed above from that bygone era.

Sure, all is not lost; we'll always have Wes Anderson, Cameron Crowe, and Tarantino, and all the other directors who treasure their mixtapes as much as their Super 8s.

All I'm saying is that I want more than just eye candy at the movies; ear candy would be nice too. And I think I'm not the only one who believes our summer popcorn movies would benefit from a little cheese now and then...

Tuesday, August 10, 2010

Gyno Rockers and Geek Reunions

Taking my liberties as this blog's proprietor to push, cajole, and noodge y'all into partaking of a couple recent endeavors of mine:


First, I am this week's guest co-host on the venerable Popcorn Mafia podcast alongside the rarely flapped boss of all things boss Grae Drake. Our guest critic this week is pop culture anthopologist, Kill Radio D.J., former BrandWeek blogger, and all-around minty fresh personality Becky Ebenkamp. You'll hear bad impressions, great recommendations, and lots of righteous girl power as we review two movies about girls with guitars: first the bright sugary fluff of JOSIE AND THE PUSSYCATS (2001), starring Rachael Leigh Cook, then the darker grittier punk pulp of BANDITS (1999), starring the hottest actress you didn't know you were infatuated with, Jasmin Tabatabai.



Click here for the episode

Second, hitting video store shelves today, or at least those video stores that aren't inundated with 5000 copies of DATE NIGHT, is the first-ever UNCUT DVD release of the '70's teenage Jekyll/Hyde thriller HORROR HIGH, which features a comedy commentary featuring myself with two other "BEAT THE GEEKS" alumni, King of TV Paul Goebel, and genial first-cycle host J. Keith van Straaten.


Filmed in Texas with former child star Pat Cardi, ASSAULT ON PRECINCT 13 badass Austin Stoker, and various slumming football stars including Mean Joe Greene, this staple of the Crown International library has circulated on late night cable and cheap tapes for years in a watered-down cut with ridiculous "shot for TV" padding footage, but now finally arrives in the original R-rated cut. It's an effective lil' low-budget high school revenge fantasy, and the three of us take some playful but never disrespectful jabs at the movie on our audio track. Gather ye armies of couch potatoes, pizza, and beer, and sit down for good old Texas Kill 'Em action!

Enjoy listening to my voice this week - if that's the sort of thing you enjoy...

Friday, August 6, 2010

"For he on honeydew hath fed / And drunk the milk of paradise"


Thirty years ago, this approximate August weekend, XANADU was unleashed upon America. In those decades since, it's become a one-stop resource for anyone who wants to get a cheap laugh or put you in a cultural place and time with the intention of causing embarassment. Want to score sarcasm points about the excesses of disco, or of films cashing in on fads just as they're dying out, or of stunt casting, or cocaine in the '70's, or camp, or whatever cultural fish is in the barrel you're pointing your shotgun at? Drop the word XANADU. 

Well if you're in my presence, if you drop that word, you'd better drop the attitude as well. 

 Because despite the numerous flaws, outdated arrival, and general garishness of the presentation, I really love this movie. I don't love it in the giddy deranged manner in which, say, I champion THE APPLE or TEEN WITCH; I embrace it wholly without irony. I think it is because of the time it came out, the age that I was, and the emotional place I was in.

At 11 years old in 1980, I was already rather focused. I loved movies, I loved pop music of all types (although I was a bit slow on the punk and new wave front), and I loved pretty girls. Unlike most boys who have to go through a stereotypical wimmen-hayters phase, almost as soon as I knew what "dating" was, I couldn't wait to spend all of my free time in the company of someone who looked, dressed, and smelled nice and liked me back. It amazes me that even today, so few people can grasp the idea that boys can be heterosexual and yet fascinated by all the trappings of femininity -- that to a degree, we are also secretly dreaming of a Princess Charming who will find us and take us to a Happily Ever After. In popular culture, the only work that immediately comes to mind that correctly demonstrates this interest is THE VIRGIN SUICIDES.

I also was an only child, and always longed for siblings, but most specifically, I wanted an older sister. This mindset was likely shaped by too many family sit-coms, but I yearned for someone who would do things like reveal the secrets about girls I would need to know as I got older, put in a good word for me when I got to the formative age, run her boyfriends past me for "approval" and so forth. For a too-brief-for-my-liking period, I almost had that when my father had an on-again/off-again relationship with a woman with two sons and two daughters, all older than me, and I became attached to the younger sister. (The eldest was already married and moved out on her own) 1980 was a year when things were essentially good in that relationship.

But again, I was still 11; too young for discos, R-rated movies (or at least the ones my father wasn't also interested in) and any real girl action. And I still had to spend the bulk of my time with my mother, who was, to put it in undramatic terms, making sure my sense of humility far exceeded my sense of self-satisfaction, and in a somewhat hostile grade school environment that was reinforcing my debateable self-worth. I was already doubting if I would ever be able to make a girl like me "that way."

So when XANADU came around, it was an almost full embodiment of what a fairy tale would be if you were tailor making it for me. A young man of an artistic temperament that feels like he doesn't fit in with the world at large gets to meet a beautiful muse who believes in him and wants to help him thrive, and also meets a generous older fellow who understands him and sympathizes, thus putting up his vast wealth to help him achieve something that would seem out of reach. As the story unfolds, Kira alternates as both a dominant romantic influence, and, when celestial obligation forbids further involvement, the supportive older sister figure. So their affair is always rather chaste, but for my youthful purposes, their moments of skating, talking, even leaving our three-dimensional plane and entering the boundless realm of animation (done by Don Bluth, who had supervised my then-favorite Disney film THE RESCUERS), was all that I needed and wanted from the concept of romance. The trappings and details look silly now, but in 1980, I loved rollerskating and Electric Light Orchestra, so to have all that in the fantasy worked for me. And it didn't hurt that there was also a rich guy on the scene to have my back.

However, even at 11 I knew this movie needed some work. A muse living over thousands of years only now actually falls in love with the artist? And the big lunkhead in turn honestly thinks he can argue his point of view with a deity? Frigga, please! As this dopey development took place I imagined it would have been much more dramatically plausible if the story suggested that this sort of thing always happened to her in her spirtual travels. That would have provided poignancy, because she would know the closer the goal came, the sooner she would have to go, like a Qiana-clad Mary Poppins. Years later, one of the details I loved about WEIRD SCIENCE was that it made virtual girl Lisa smart enough to realize that her ultimate function was to create her own obsolescence. As for Sonny Malone, well, if that had been me (then and now), I would've acknowledged that I could not ultimately stay with her, but begged for that one last night to share the triumph of the club, because it would be as much her victory as mine and thus she should be allowed to experience it too. These small changes would have still allowed for the inclusion of that awesome single-take performance of "Suspended in Time" amidst it all.

But then, I was always accustomed to accepting bad news and trying to make do with it; perhaps the studio flacks putting together this fluffy fantasy were less in practice with that.

And today? Well, I'm smart enough to know that this world is a snarkier place, and most cannot or will not embrace the wide-eyed if misguided utopianism of XANADU, so I smile and nod when people make their catty remarks about the film. But as St. John the Cusack proclaimed in the Book of Say Anything, optimism is a revolutionary act, so I will still openly champion the big heart that I see within the movie. I have been lucky enough to emcee multiple screenings of the film for new and smiling audiences, and meet some of the people involved in the spectacle, and they all appreciate my stance of neo-sincerity.


But I don't know where I fit in the story now. I'm too old to be the naive dreamer, and I'm not experienced or prosperous enough to be the benefactor either. And I still have to wonder if I'm going to be found by that divine creature...
   

Wednesday, August 4, 2010

Matthew Wilder and the Sparks Behind His INFERNO

In the midst of all the ouroborosian media coverage of actress Lindsay Lohan and her aggressively pursued (if abbreviatedly enforced) jail sentence this past July, there has been an increased amount of attention paid to the film project that, as of this writing, is still secured for her and eagerly awaiting her participation, and to its heretofore little-known writer/director. When Matthew Wilder first set out years ago to make INFERNO, about the short and sorrowful life of Linda Lovelace, he likely expected people to express curiosity about it. But because he is a "new" guy, with little history in the public record, in the position of making a modern matinee idol's First Movie After Jail, following what is certainly the lowest point of a life led almost entirely in public, Lindsay Lohan's mavens and maledictors alike are extremely curious now about Wilder.

Unfortunately, the few quotes and interviews that press and bloggers have solicited from him in the last couple months mostly address Lohan's troubles and temperament, and not his artistic ambitions. It would appear they only seem to be curious about what he has to say about her, and not much else.

The following interview is an attempt to answer the Who Is Matthew Wilder And How Did He Get Lindsay to Strip Jack Naked? questions that have popped up in the tabloid press. I doubt that this will change anyone's opinion, on Wilder or Lohan or their upcoming collaboration, that has been formed in this last month of media mishegoss, but at least it will fill in some large chasms of information.

FULL DISCLOSURE: For years, I had known Matthew Wilder without knowing him: we would often find each other frequenting the same Los Angeles theatres to see the same offbeat films, and would occasionally chat about them afterwards. So I was quite taken aback when his photo appeared among the first stories of Lohan's sentencing, and I learned who it was I'd been idly chatting with all that time. Consequently, the next time I saw him, I asked point blank if I could interview him for this blog, and he graciously agreed. Meanwhile, though I have never met Lindsay Lohan, we have mutual friends. So I do not have the most impartial position to write from: I would like to see Lohan rebound from her troubles and for Wilder to make a great film. But then, I have that wish for anyone who is fighting personal demons or is lucky to get a movie into production. As such, do not mistake me for a professional journalist: my questions won't be the most hard-hitting, but I promise you they are on matters that interest me, and consequently, I hope the answers interest you as well...


So, tell me first about your background, and how and when you first got interested in the performing arts?
I grew up in a trailer park In Des Plaines, Illinois. I went to Yale and was derailed from my primary interest, movies, by meeting the great opera and theatre director Peter Sellars. He evangelized. Electrifying. YouTube has some of his hushed, goosebump-inducing speeches. His evangel was: Make theatre, because you can make it with your friends, you can make it for no money, you can create truly great work for three dollars with some folding chairs and gaffer's tape. And I and a lot of my friends did.

Since your first credits were in live theatre, what were the plays that attracted you and moved you in your formative years?
You know that Jesuit formula that is quoted in Ken Russell's THE DEVILS--"Give me the first six years of a man's life and you can have the rest"? That was kind of true of me vis-a-vis Peter's school of aesthetic and moral fundamentalism. Maybe make it "give me the first two years of a college student's life and you can have the rest." I directed a lot of Gertrude Stein, Mayakovsky. The amazing director Robert Woodruff, who did all the Sam Shepard premieres and is now a great sort of deconstructionist director, introduced me to Chuck Mee. I did a lot of premieres of Chuck's work. At his best, Chuck is a great, symphonic sort of sample artist, bringing together the Greeks and the National Enquirer and Bret Easton Ellis into this surging, massive kind of uber-text.

By directing plays in different cities, did you ever detect different vibes or other unusual details from one city to the next? Was one market more inclined to take to your visions than another?
Yeah. There are so many cities in America that are thought of as square that are actually really crazy and cool. San Diego, for example, is thought of as a place for retirees, Republicans, and Marines. It in fact is crazy gonzo in a very Hunter S. Thompson/Thomas Pynchon/Philip K. Dick sort of way. There are crooked Carl Hiaasen characters in Hawaiian shirts all over the place ordering shrimp cocktails and getting into messes. It's one of those "so straight it's crooked" kinda places. Same for Dallas, Texas. Home of Bush, law and order, lots of terrific batshit crazy people wandering around. Richard Linklater's Austin feels very tepid by contrast to me.


Did your interest in film influence your interest in theater, or were those disciplines separate? What are the films that have inspired your work, be it in your play stagings or your scripts?
I don't separate them out as much as other people do. I have been watching a lot of thirties pictures lately, and there is this beautiful thing where, just as sound came in, dialogue became this snazzy special effect that made people ooh and aah the way 3-D does now. So you have people like George Cukor and Otto Preminger coming out of the theatre because they could deal with...words! Not just staging Indians falling off a horse. I think a lot of what is most cinematic is most stagy, from a Fred Astaire picture to Tarantino's table full of Nazis playing cards.
Our picture, INFERNO: A LINDA LOVELACE STORY, is a shock-and-awe movie. It is a no-holds-barred blitz on the audience. I'd be lying if I said that Martin Scorsese didn't feature pretty prominently in the conception of that. But it also is an homage to earlier hysterical melodrama artists, especially Robert Aldrich, especially Sam Fuller.

At what point did you begin to write film scripts?
When I was in grad school for directing theatre. My first agent was Tom Strickler. I was in a meeting when two development guys told me that my agent fled ICM with a bunch of filing cabinets. Thus was born Endeavor, and then "ENTOURAGE," and yadda yadda. I wrote for other people for a long time and still do. I wrote for myself too, and it has been a long and winding road to get to make my own stuff.

Was your theatre background helpful in getting noticed by the filmmaking community?
Disastrous. Making the crappiest music video in the world is more important, because all anyone cares is that you have a basic technical proficiency and you can be the captain of a crew. You could be Ingmar Fucking Bergman directing HAMLET and it means zip, zero.

You are attached to many projects that have not been widely seen or even been produced. Is it frustrating to have your work attached to a respected and/or bankable name like Clive Barker or Renny Harlin and still not get the project completed?
I don't know that that's the adjective. At a certain point you pass through frustration. This is the thing they should tell people in the packet they hand out when you move to Los Angeles. They should prepare people for the Thanksgivings and Christmases you go home to the folks and have to say, "Nope. Nothin'. Nothin' doing, nothin' moving forward." If you can get through those dinners, you will make it to the finish line.

How did your debut film, YOUR NAME HERE, come together?
I spent a long time working on a movie [DIZZY UP THE GIRL] about Edie Sedgwick. Kate Bosworth was going to play our Edie. Then, suddenly, George Hickenlooper's movie [FACTORY GIRL] stole our parking space, and I was...frankly, bereft, heartbroken. I went to my manager and said, "Set something up for me to make or I will absolutely lose my marbles, I don't care if we have to shoot it for ten days in the Philippines, just do it." And so shortly thereafter, we were doing a low-low-budget version of YOUR NAME HERE. It was originally called PANASONIC, by the way, which means "all sounds happening at once." But we encountered resistance from a little company called...oh, never mind.

Did you ever encounter any resistance from Phillip K. Dick's family, even though your film is a complete fiction only loosely inspired by aspects of his life?
There is a company that is in the process of purchasing YOUR NAME HERE for a theatrical release in 2011, and they are in the process of negotiating with the Dick estate, so I ought not to comment on it while their negotiations are happening.

Was it difficult as a first-time director without studio backing to attract such a respected talent like Bill Pullman to your project?
Not at all. Pullman was a champ. The casting director got it to him, he read it in a day, called me the next day, we met and had scrambled eggs and in 45 minutes he said, "It's on." And he never looked back, even when things got hairy, and they got reeeeally hairy. He is a prince.

You debuted the film at CineVegas in 2008, around the same time Dennis Hopper did substantial publicity for the festival. Do you have any memories of Hopper from the event?
I went to a party at his house and there was amazing art just falling on the floor. Just--everywhere, little Warhols, little Basquiats masking-taped to refrigerators. You were afraid to move in that joint because you might destroy some priceless Warhol just by moving your elbow. I talked to him briefly at the festival and he seemed like this genial, laid-back version of Dennis Hopper. He was always carrying a tiny dish of Ben & Jerry's wherever he went.

YOUR NAME HERE as yet has not been picked up by a distributor, nor is it easily available for viewing. Do you think perhaps when INFERNO is made and released, there will be more demand for YOUR NAME HERE?
I hope there will be mad demand for it. It's a very different picture, almost an opposite kind of picture--very cool and cerebral and detached. INFERNO is visceral and intense and all over you all the time.

You already had INFERNO in the planning stages as YOUR NAME HERE was in festival play. What interested you in telling the Linda Lovelace story?
When I was a kid, my mom had Linda's book ORDEAL stuffed away in the towel cabinet...you know, so the kiddies couldn't read it. I read it at about the age of 13. It blew my mind. My God, adults were as fucked up as I only dreamt they could be! There is a very powerful thing in this book, which is written in a brilliant, hammering tabloid style by the journalist Mike McCready. You can read between the lines: Linda paints her husband, Chuck, as this terrible, sadistic ogre, but you see her attraction to him. And that is the subject of the movie. There is a very clear, primal, horror-movie-ish story to INFERNO about a woman trapped by and escaping a monster. But the really interesting part for me is the subtext: what is Linda's attraction to this darkness? Chuck is not some bad boy on a motorcycle who's going to slap her on the fanny. He is death itself.

Did reading ORDEAL as a teenager affect your opinion of pornography in general, or did you just take it as one person's experience?
I don't think ORDEAL really is about pornography. INFERNO isn't either. It's really about marriage and sexual attraction. The porn thing is at best a bait-and-switch. It's just not the subject.

You talk about reading between the lines of what Linda wrote in ORDEAL. Did you then as a teenager, or do you now as an adult, sense things from that book that would contradict the narrative that the religious right and anti-porn feminists were constructing around her? Do you get the sensation that in some instances, she told these groups what they wanted to hear so that they would accept her, in the same manner that she acquiesced to Traynor's abuse?
Certainly Linda manifests most of the personlity traits of a cult member and is very easily pushed and pulled from one ideology to another. But if I can be forgiven for being a little pretentious, there is really one idea behind this movie.
When I was a kid, I was taught that everything bad in the world came from "social construction"--that racism and sexism and homophobia were all "socially constructed" things. I think that meant very little more, when you boiled it away, than that they were not natural and biological. And certainly it is the rhetoric of somebody like Pat Robertson to say that such-and-such, a woman's place being in the home or homosexuality being evil, is "natural," it's just Nature, it's the way God made the World.
And yet, underneath that lie...there is a different truth. Which is...maybe the way that Linda and Chuck are with each other represents a certain kind of impulse that lies deep beneath us that we don't want to think about. It blows apart all the complacencies of the right AND the left. And certainly it is not what, say, a movie with Katherine Heigl and Gerard Butler tells us that "a man and a woman" are...it is not that fantasy that we all consume about what mating is. But maybe those atavistic urges are really us. That's what we really are underneath it all--or at least, that's part of who we are.
Oliver Stone has a great line...he describes the civilized brain ruling the animal brain as being like a walnut sitting on top of a watermelon. And I think that is our fallacy. We think that little tiny walnut runs the watermelon. Maybe not.

There's a quote by Stanley Kubrick that's always affected me: "The most terrifying aspect to the universe is not that it is hostile but that it is indifferent." As such, is perhaps the bigger tragedy of Linda Lovelace's life not the fact that she endured dehumanizing treatment at the hands of Chuck Traynor, but that nobody seemed to care, be they her fellow performers who never intervened to stop him from abusing her, or the people who used her book to push their own political agenda yet left her to fend for herself when she couldn't keep a job or pay the rent?
That is very true, and very present in the movie. I thought a lot about a different quote of Kubrick's when writing INFERNO--"I think of us not as fallen angels but as risen apes."

Have you met with any surviving members of Linda's family in your preparation?
Working on that. I was just offered a meeting by a member of Linda's family.


What do you think will make your film stand out from the other dramatic portrayals of adult film in its prime (BOOGIE NIGHTS, WONDERLAND)?
BOOGIE NIGHTS is one of my all-time favorite movies and I think I know every shot, every line in it. But it was very clear that we were NOT making that movie, and indeed I strove pretty hard to make this different from BOOGIE and also from STAR 80, a very great, underrated movie that INFERNO resembles in certain story ways. This is a much starker, rawer movie--I like to say it's like a grindhouse version of Bergman's SCENES FROM A MARRIAGE. Mike DeLuca, who produced BOOGIE, had a great line: He said BOOGIE is like THE GODFATHER, and INFERNO is like the GOODFELLAS of the porn business. I don't know if that's true, but I know DeLuca sure knows how to make you feel good.

How did Lindsay Lohan come to be involved with the project?
Lindsay is a dream Linda. Hello, her initials are even LL! The producer, Chris Hanley, kind of paddled away for a little while when he was doing THE KILLER INSIDE ME with Winterbottom and then he came back and said, "Let's get INFERNO on." I said, "Okay, let's get a Linda. I want to get Lindsay Lohan." He said, "Oh, I know Lindsay, she's my buddy!" I rolled my eyes over this for a while and said, "Great, well, set up a meeting with your very good buddy." And lo and behold, a week later, I got an e-mail saying: Please meet.

What were your initial meetings with her like?
Lovely. My sense was of someone very shy. Very, very soulful. Someone who has a lot of feelings that just spill out very easily. What I remember most from that first meeting was that I ended it by doing this kind of jive handshake and she said, "You're so ghetto, I love you." Very sweet.

Since so many people form an image of Lohan from her tabloid appearances, what sorts of things would you want people to know about her from your working relationship so far?
I think she is a giant. And I think time and movies will bear that out. As someone who has marinated in seventies movies all his life, I think I can say Lindsay has a quality that you see in the great actresses of that period--Sissy Spacek, Shelley Duvall, Tuesday Weld. Some of the grit of Linda Haynes or Linda Manz. A feeling of life that has been lived, and a really expressive instrument. Just bookmark these words, time and movies will show, in ten years, someone who is really at the top of her game. She will be around when a lot of the little cupcakes who are flavors-of-the-month right now are gone.

You were ready to start shooting when her jail sentence and mandatory rehab stay was imposed, and you are holding production to wait for her. For this, you have alternately been lauded as being loyal to a troubled artist, and derided as a craven opportunist using her notoriety to draw attention to yourself. Did you ever expect such a spectrum of reactions like these?
"Derided as a craven opportunist"! Well, believe me, speaking in the press against Lindsay's most hysterical detractors doesn't exactly win you friends or influence people. So as for opportunism...it gives you the opportunity to be pelted with tomatoes. It's not a vote-getting stance.


Now that you have done both, what in the grand picture is more difficult - directing a play, or directing a film?
Directing a play is intellectually harder, directing a film is tactically harder. As I think any filmmaker would tell you, though, the hardest part of filmmaking is getting that guy not just to take out the checkbook, not just to pay for dinner and drinks, but to actually write the check. That is harder than your hardest day on the set.

As a director, would it be more dispiriting to mount a play where one night you get an actor's greatest work yet there is no record of it, or to mount a film where you don't get the actor's best work but that performance is going to be in the permanent record for years to come?
I find the ephemeral nature of theatre pretty rough. Especially when a lot of the best theatre would work equally well on video and film. The "live performance" aspect of that is overrated even in really strong work, except maybe for something like Reza Abdoh, where you felt the actors' sweating literally whipping the faces of the audience.

Finally, since so many continue to run with this either by sincere mistake or snarky joke, what is your favorite incident involving the constant confusion between yourself and '80's singer-turned-record producer Matthew Wilder?
I don't know. You are the first person ever to point this out.


Once again, my thanks to Matthew Wilder for speaking at length to me in the midst of trying times, and my prayers to Lindsay Lohan and her loved ones, that the events of this year so far prove to be last of the worst for everyone.

Wednesday, July 28, 2010

Fallin' on the floor for STANDING OVATION!

In one of my earliest blog entries, I dabbled on the subject of loveably misbegotten films...the TROLL 2s, the HELLO DOWN THEREs...movies that confound conventional adjectives because they don't meet the artistic or intellectual standard of "good" but deliver more genuine pleasure than most films that do reach that arbitrary measure. The bearish Dave White is bullish on this type of film, what he has branded "Awful is the New Awesome," and if you consider that said adjective literally means "full of awe," he is spot-on in that description, because audiences in the right frame of mind, myself included, indeed sit in awe, wondering if what we are witnessing on screen is really happening. And in my still-controversial gobspit on THE ROOM, I delved into the appeal further, proclaiming that an audience's true enjoyment of these movies cannot be based merely in feeling superior to them, but in fact in feeling sympathetic with them, meshing the open flaws of the film to our own life's previously best-laid plans in a moment of familial love. The message to the filmmaker is you dun goofed up, and the consequences of me watching your movie will never be the same, but I can't deny the fact that I like you, right now, I like you!"

And right now, I can't deny the fact that I am currently in the midst of a ridiculously ebullient love affair with such a film: STANDING OVATION, an independently-produced East Coast-lensed spectacle attempting to be the tweener intersection of HIGH SCHOOL MUSICAL and "JERSEY SHORE." In a summer that has given us all manner of underwhelming and mediocre movies, and only a few legitimately brilliant ones, this shiny, scrappy, and occasionally strident film is the wild card I didn't even know I was looking for. In its short theatrical run, I have seen it twice, and if I can drag any more brave friends along while it's still onscreen, I'll return again; the as-yet unreleased DVD is as good as on my shelf when it comes out. And yes, as that preambling (and prerambling) opening paragraph indicates, most of my enjoyment is in that dreaded "meta" zone of irony that is abused so much in pop culture you could mistake it for Luka on the second floor, the kind of reaction that, to invoke legitimate irony, does get explored at one part of this movie, which concerns me a touch because I don't want any of the nice kids who worked on this film to think that I'm laughing at them...at least not in any kind of mean way that would have easily upset me when I was their age.

Let's make this clear, STANDING OVATION is not "a movie for the whole family to enjoy" as the marketing would have you believe. The majority of families who have grown accustomed to the clean, professional, and star-laden output of Walden Media for the last decade will quickly grow impatient with the abrasively low-budgeted staging on display here. And those progressive hipster parents - the kind that decry anything associated with Disney, forbid sweets, and try to accelerate their offspring's development of righteous anger by playing Consolidated in the nursery - well they'll be downright horrified at what they see as a celebration of prefab pop and the quest for shallow stardom. So unless you live in one of those households where mom, dad, and the kids pop popcorn and sit in the living room to enjoy an evening of reading out loud from the latest issue of McSweeney's Quarterly Concern, this movie is probably not for you.

But if, like me, you find the Monkees more interesting than the Beatles, you miss Crystal Pepsi because you liked the taste, and feel a wonderful tingle every time you hear Bela Lugosi's "Home? I have no home!" speech from BRIDE OF THE MONSTER, this is a movie made for you. In the grand tradition of THE APPLE and THE GARBAGE PAIL KIDS MOVIE, to paraphrase from the "Stimutacs" episode of "SEALAB 2021," STANDING OVATION is a movie that makes me feel like a koala bear hacked up a rainbow in my brain...and to me, that is a pleasant thing!

STANDING OVATION, which opened in over 600 theatres on July 16th, the day before my birthday, and plummeted to 72 matinee-only screenings in its second week, is having a hard time finding any love in the marketplace, either from published critics...

And oh, the music...generic and empty, with derivative music and lyrics consisting of nothing but baseless, idiotic self-assertion. One group sings that they're "one in a million." Another sings that they're superstars. Then a little girl sings about how she's going to be a star.
Everybody's going to be a star, and could you imagine what a nightmare it would be if everybody who wants to be a star actually became a star? You wouldn't be able to walk from your front door to the car without hordes of people following you, singing and singing and singing...
It would be a nightmare. It would be even worse than this movie. But until that dreaded day, "Standing Ovation" must hold pride of place.
– Mick LaSalle, San Francisco Chronicle

Standing Ovation could barely muster a golf clap from an audience. Unless you're a female senior citizen. The Kelinworth Film Production's debut flick will simply not work for anyone outside of the above mentioned and possibly a five year old. Everyone between the ages of six and sixty-five, wait for this to show on the Disney channel. In the afternoon. On Saturday. When it's raining. – Joe Belcastro, Tampa Movie Examiner

For us grinchy adults out there without children to sedate, the whole thing feels slightly less like a movie than like the filmed record of a mutiny at a juvie talent agency - Adam Markovitz, Entertainment Weekly

...or from IMDb commenters...

"Ugly kids movie...only a pedophile could love"

"Should be called 'How to Make a Narcissist.'"

"How the HECK did this get a theatrical release?"

...or even from moviegoers themselves. In a wide release of 623 screens, STANDING OVATION's opening weekend total of $343,125 (or $551 per screen) was the worst opening since TRANSYLMANIA in December of 2009, and ranks 5th in all-time worst openings since 1982. Despite the best of booster press in its location cities of Atlantic City, Cape May County, and Delaware County, PA, as well as national talk show plugs from its producer, venerated actor James Brolin, STANDING OVATION was unable to find the family audience it aspired to. And I suspect that the kids and parents who busted their buns and boiled coffee to make this film may not be 100% thrilled to hear that one of the few large contingents that's energetically trying to support it also seems to be regarding it as a post-millenial PLAN 9 FROM OUTER SPACE.

I would like to assure all parties that this is not an accurate assessment. While there are still remnants of the initial Harry & Michael Medved school of snotty dismissal mingling with the too-cool-for-school detachment dinguses (or is that dingae?) that may watch this movie to mock it, everyone I've talked to who has seen STANDING OVATION knows its faults, and openly embraces it regardless. It's a stance that maverick San Francisco film programmer Jesse Hawthorne Ficks calls "neo-sincerity", which he describes as as "post-ironic...you know you can make fun of something if you want to; but, you don't really need to." It's that kind of lopsided love that fuels the cults that embrace TROLL 2, or TEEN WITCH, or any of the films that despite their perceived disposability, have somehow kept their fanbase years after their shelf life should have expired.

So sure, I could make jokes about the numerous plot threads about gambling addiction and unrequited crushes and parental absence that are introduced and then abandoned, or how the 5 Ovations are supposed to be the working-class heroes in contrast to the spoiled Wiggies yet they seem to have a budget for back-up dancers and costumes that exceeds their so-called rich rivals, or how the character of Joei Badalucci engages in stereotypes so egregious that I half-expected Joseph Columbo to rise from the grave to file a posthumous complaint from the Italian-American Civil Rights League, or that Alanna Wannabe's bratty antics are not so much adorable as more likely to inspire a response similar to Strong Bad's reaction to 'Cute Little Girl from Sit-Com Sings Patriotic Song', or the fact this story relies on so many deus ex machinae that it becomes a veritable deus ex officina...but see, those are the very things I love about the movie! Its daffy committment to what is clearly a blinkered and hyperactive 12-year-old fantasy worldview made me a little daffy too. And when left to contemplate whether to sit through the bloated emptiness of THE LAST AIRBENDER or the pained seriousness of TWILIGHT: ECLIPSE or the autopilot blandness of KNIGHT AND DAY or the calculated familiarity of THE KARATE KID...a movie like STANDING OVATION that's riddled with wrong yet smiling all the way through it is a lot more entertaining.

STANDING OVATION will never be regarded on the same level playing field as the gleaming Disney franchises to which it wants to, dare I say, Step Up. But like many determined knockoffs of bigger films (PIRANHA to JAWS, KING FRAT to ANIMAL HOUSE, LOVE AND A .45 to PULP FICTION), it is most definitely destined for cult movie status; even Brian Orndorff and Roger Moore, while both panning the film, acknowledge it's kook appeal and camp potential. There is already talk in a couple cities of reviving this in midnight screenings...when of course, the kids would be in bed and the grown-ups would have all the fun. Personally, I would love to see this become the teenybopper training film for THE ROCKY HORROR PICTURE SHOW: book a theatre on Saturday mornings, let the tweener set learn how to shadow-cast and make funny callbacks, get them prepared for the sexier midnight movies when they get older. Who knows, maybe even some serious hard-partiers and ravers would still be awake from the night before to come watch as well and make it a hip destination.



Now then, in the off chance any of the kids from this movie are reading this essay:

First off, congratulations! This may not be the rave review you wanted to read in reward for your work, but what matters is you worked hard and whether people like it or hate it, you did it, and years from now you'll always be able to look back at it and think of all the fun you had. And as I am predicting, a lot of us will be watching and having fun too. Now some of you are probably also going to be looking at a decade's worth of ribbing and schoolyard taunting in the interim, so I'm hoping you've started building up a sense of humor about that. It might be cold comfort when the jokes get mean, but keep in mind that you did something big, and most people who feel like being nasty to you never will. You should read some of the rude things people said about me when I did "BEAT THE GEEKS" years ago!

And since I keep talking about this thing called "irony" and how it relates to your movie, I suggest you watch a really great documentary called BEST WORST MOVIE which was made by a former child actor about a movie he starred in, TROLL 2, that also didn't get the success or acclaim he hoped for, but earned him fans that years after the fact, are some of the best people he's ever known. I also suggest reading an essay by my friend and fellow blogger Witney Seibold about one of the other movies I compared yours to, THE APPLE, a musical that started me on my love of films like yours, and if nothing else, you can always point your friends to when they give you grief and say, "You think my movie is strange?"

Finally, I hear rumblings that you all may do a sequel. DO EET!!! Do it fast! Make it so fast we can see it this Christmas, where it will stand out in opposition to all the serious stodgy awards-season bait that will be in theatres. After all, who wants to watch another English broad in a corset suffering when STANDING OVATION II: WIGGIE WEVENGE is playing next door?

Oh yeah, and when you make that sequel, hire these boys:

Tuesday, July 20, 2010

My Personal Super Hero, Andyman

America lost one of its best radio personalities, rock'n'roll lost one of its best champions, and most heartbreakingly, I lost one of my closest friends this past Saturday evening: DJ and music director for CD101-FM John Andrew Davis, known to close friends and music lovers alike as simply "Andyman," died from drowning during a family vacation. It's an exceptional hurt for me, because July 17 is my birthday, and this is the second time that I have lost a close friend on the heels of that date: previously, New Beverly Cinema operator Sherman Torgan died of a sudden heart attack on July 18th, 2007.

Andyman was large in almost every sense of the adjective. First off and unavoidably, he was so in the physical sense, standing 6 foot 3, and at his heaviest, weighing nearly 400 lbs; bariatric surgery in 2005 brought him down to a comparably healthier 200. But what loomed larger than that was his personality - his smile, his voice, his gregarious manner, and his enthusiasm for great music. It is so difficult to avoid sounding like I'm making a stereotypical fat joke, but it is absolute truth to say that he was the gravitational force when he entered a room, because everyone wanted to be around him, he was a commanding presence. From his unassuming debut at the station's inception in 1991, he quickly rose to become the prominent rock'n'roll tastemaker in Columbus, not only through his promotion to music director in 1998, but through his outreach to local artists, his support of local entrepreneurs and fledgeling hockey and soccer teams, and his annual 48-hour Christmas charity event, the "Andymanathon." The latter institution, where song requests would be "bought" for donations, and numerous bands and occasional touring celebrities like Rob Schneider and Drew Carey would perform live on air as Andy staved off sleep, would raise tens of thousands of dollars for local children's charities. Later on, he even opened up his own watering hole, Andyman's Treehouse, where local musicians would play and drink, and one of the best - Quinn Fallon of the X-Rated Cowboys - even tended bar.

CD101, Andy's radio station, had a heavy burden when they started in 1991 as Columbus' first "alternative" station. Without any major conglomerate behind them, a signal that could prove troublesome in certain neighborhoods, and legions of record store cynics ready to engage in preemptive schadenfreude, it was a struggle to grab and keep an audience in a market dominated by tired familiar formatting. But they did it. While never scoring huge numbers, CD101 became a trusted brand not just locally, but nationally, both for its playlist and its continued independence; a recent TV ad campaign gleefully reminded viewers they were not affiliated with Clear Channel. And Andyman, in his position as music director, deserves the lion's share of that accomplishment. Canny but never cynical in setting the station's playlist, his musical integrity was flawless - he may not have liked every single band that the station helped break, but you instinctively knew he never had to hold his nose while spinning tracks or make a false compliment to an artist. He loved the music as much as you did, and everyone from performer to listener respected that optimism and hope. Living in what is sadly one of the single worst radio markets in America, I can say with full honesty (barring my admitted personal interest) that CD101 is the single best radio station I've listened to in my life.

Andyman began his career at roughly the same time that I graduated from Ohio State, stepped into a longtime position at the venerable Drexel Theatres, and pursued my fortune in stand-up and improv comedy. So our paths crossed early and very frequently, both professionally, such as when the Drexel would promote films at the station, and personally, since we had many of the same friends. And I cannot remember any sort of sniffing-each-other-out preamble to our friendship; it's as if we started out bear-hugging each other and kept that affection going for years thereafter. I listened to his on-air shifts, he came to my performances and my workplace. For a couple years, we even lived walking distance from each other, both of us sharing homes with other comics. Visits to the studio during his Christmas marathon. A surreptitious screening of a print of PULP FICTION a month before the movie opened. Dozens of late-night poker games and last-call bar visits. The cold spring months of 1996, when I found myself among other local comics and musicians toiling on a low-budget exploitation film called BOTTOM FEEDERS, and Andy volunteered to do a short scene where he wound up on the wrong end of a petty robbery. My life was not always a laugh-filled romp during my Columbus years, but Andy was one of the fellas who stood by me and gave me support to go forward. And much like that song that he played very often (yet somehow never became the monster hit that it should have been), I could stand there in that time and say with certainty, "Despite my fighting bitter tears / These are the very best years."

Once I left Cowtown for L.A., our contact had been somewhat more sporadic. But Andy never stopped supporting me. During my 13 minutes of fame with "BEAT THE GEEKS," he eagerly offered me the chance to tape promo bumpers for the station, a dream come true for me. In turn, I would listen to the internet feed of the station on multiple occasions, and would make long distance calls to the station during the Christmas Andymanathon to pledge money and make obscure song requests, and I would admonish everyone else in my social networking radius to do the same. We'd had a lapse in conversation for some time that had just recently been rectified thanks to Facebook, and I was looking foward to visiting with him and his family later this summer when the news came on Sunday night.

And in my departure from Columbus, many things have changed. Andy sold the Treehouse to other owners in 2008. This year, CD101 agreed to sell their frequency to Ohio State and will become CD102.5 instead. With the loss of Andy and his magic manner, it effectively means the end of an era. I'm hardly suggesting that it's all over for alternative music lovers in the city - I have full confidence that CD102.5 will proudly carry on the tradition that started almost two decades ago in a little building on the south side of town. I'm only observing that with a new dial position and a new public face in the music library, and the absence of another major signpost of his influence, it will be a different environment for the new generation that embraces the station and their music.

As such, in the tradition of the sports teams we loved to watch on poker nights, out of respect to Andy's legacy, I am retiring these T-shirts from wear, the better to have an intact artifact of that mixtape Camelot we enjoyed for so long.



It's a challenge to find the right song to send out in dedication to a voracious music lover like Andyman. After all, he exposed me and many to so many great songs and performers, there are too many to choose from to suggest who he was and what he meant to me and how I feel about his sudden departure. But as I spin the '45's in my head, I think this song is the most appropriate. Brad, and their lead singer Shawn Smith, were particular favorites of Andy's, and they performed a beautifully spare rendition of their one major single in the station's "Big Room" that was played very often instead of the album version. That recording is unfortunately not available to me, but this recent live rendition by Smith is a reasonable approximation...



Who knows where the storm will take us
Who knows when the pain will break us
When will all the G's be given
Another chance to live in freedom

So gather around
And see what the day brings
And see what makes you laugh
And see what makes you sing
And never, nevermind
The thing that people say
You'll never go away
You'll never go away


John Andrew Davis – RIP AndyMan – We’ll Miss You

First photo courtesy of Eric Broz; second photo courtesy of Gator Dave West. These photos are the property of their respective photographers and are used in the hope of forgiveness in lieu of permission.

Thursday, July 15, 2010

Somewhere the Fox is Crying

Imagine that you agree to go out on a blind date. You meet up with the person, and you hit it off with them really well. You go to a great restaurant, and the food is good, and the conversation is sparkling, and you have so much in common, and you're off to a great start. Your energy is up, so you both go out to a club, and the drinks are tasty and you've got chemistry on the dance floor, and you're looking at each other and you're really feeling that attraction and you just want it to keep going. So you end up at their place, and your endorphins are pumping, and they go to the bathroom while you start getting undressed, and you can't hold your excitement any further so you open the door on them...and they're on the floor shooting heroin.

No matter how much fun you were having, how well you were connecting, the bloom is immediately off the rose, and your memories of that night are going to be tainted.

That is what it's like to see a 2/3 great movie that is slaughtered by a terrible ending. TRUE BELIEVER, WEDDING CRASHERS, SHOWGIRLS...I'm sure you have a few movie dates of your own that took an irreparable wrong turn. And that is, sadly, why I cannot in good conscience recommend Lisa Cholodenko's THE KIDS ARE ALL RIGHT. It was one of my eagerly-anticipated movies of the summer, and is now my biggest disappointment of the summer.

THE KIDS ARE ALL RIGHT starts off as an extremely engaging and pleasant story that blends the traditional dramatics about teenage children becoming adults with fresh reinvention about what constitutes a modern family. In this case, it is Joni (Mia Wasikowska) who is making the leap to womanhood with her impending move to college, and her younger brother Laser (Josh Hutcherson) trying to figure out who he is. They are children of a decade-plus strong lesbian couple, Joni birthed from Nic (Annette Bening), Laser from Jules (Julianne Moore), both sharing the same sperm donor. And it is the identity of that person that underage Laser begs the initially hesitant (but legally adult) Joni to request to have revealed, and to keep secret from their doting but somewhat overbearing mothers. Nic and Jules, meanwhile, are themselves a generally happy couple content with the status quo, but do have some issues to deal with, not only with the impending departure of their firstborn from the nest, but with longstanding personality clashes that are often ignored but never forgotten in a long-term relationship: Nic is a workaholic doctor with a controlling streak and tends to always drink one glass of wine too many, while Jules feels starved for attention, yearns to have a business of her own and not be "kept," and wonders if she is still attractive to Nic or just an item of familiar comfort.

Joni and Laser discover their donor father is an affable (though sometimes cocky) restauranteur named Paul (Mark Ruffalo), who, in scenes depicting his life before the revelation, we learn operates a small farm to supply his restaurant, and is quite handy with the younger women who work for him. Upon meeting them, Paul is rather happy to learn that part of his biology has helped create two nice, hard-working kids. Laser is not quite as enamored with learning about his dad as he'd thought, but Joni grows fond of him and his self-sustained lifestyle, and Paul proceeds to make himself available to them with enthusiasm. Eventually, the mothers find out that the kids have made contact, and reluctantly agree to have him over for dinner.

The majority of THE KIDS ARE ALL RIGHT is terrific, depicting five smart, intelligent, good-hearted people just trying to muddle through life and each other. When there are scenes of tension, such as Nic's often steely resistance to liking Paul's company and influence, they don't come across as cheap drama but as natural push and pull, especially in the midst of what the primary story is supposed to be, the push and pull between child and parent as the former becomes their own person with their own values and beliefs. Cholodenko does a great job showing the adults warts and all, how Nic's impulses can be both protective and smothering, how Jules can be both ambitious and flighty, how Paul can be both smug and insightful. And the movie also suggests that while both mothers have clearly done a fine job raising their kids, it doesn't hurt to have a father figure in the picture; Laser has a bullying friend whom his moms repeatedly try to counsel him about, but it isn't until after Paul notices his boorish behavior as well that Laser decides to split with him (though of course beforehand he criticizes Paul for making a judgment after one meeting), while Joni has resisted trying to become romantic with a platonic male friend, perhaps wanting the similar comfort of the familiar that her moms have, but considers taking things up a step by observing the take-the-risk behavior of Paul.

And then THIS happened (of course there are spoilers)...

Paul, trying to help Jules with her nascent gardening business, hires her to start with his own back yard, and Jules grows to enjoy the fact that Paul takes her ideas seriously where Nic tended to be dismissive, and more importantly, that he offers her the positivity and compliments that she feels she has been missing from Nic. While it is supposed to be a surprise turn in the story, anyone who has seen the trailer knows that after this meeting of the minds, Jules and Paul end up having a sexual affair. Though Paul is set up as the hound dog of the movie, it is Jules who makes the first move on Paul, and when they attempt to stop after one encounter, it is her who starts it up again. Paul in turn has no interest in the stereotype of "turning" a lesbian straight, he reciprocates because he genuinely likes her, and perhaps because no matter how unorthodox the circumstance, they are the parents of a child they both adore. Paul goes on to break up with the younger woman he's had a "benefits" arrangement with because he is thinking seriously about being with a woman his own age and becoming a non-absentee father to his children.

Naturally, their affair is revealed, and for the sake of drama, it is revealed to all the characters through confrontation and eavesdropping. And naturally, I expected there would be the requisite depictions of shunning and bitterness among the characters, and some sort of showdown between Nic and Paul over the infidelity. And most of that is handled even-handedly: for example, we see frostiness between Nic and Jules as Jules takes residency on the sofa, but in a later scene when Joni comes home drunk and sasses Nic, Jules steps up and scolds Joni for disrespecting her mother. Thus it seemed plausible that Paul would get a similar moment of defensive respect as well.

On the eve of Joni's departure for college, Paul comes to the house to apologize to her before she leaves. Joni is still angry, and expresses her disapointment in him for not being a better person. Good moment. Then Nic appears, and gives him the kiss-off speech, sneering that he is nothing but a sperm donor and an interloper, and that if he wants a family, he can go somewhere else and make his own. Paul, knowing he is in the wrong, says nothing in his defense, and leaves. Effective moment. But it is not only the last time we see him in the film, it is the last time he even comes into play. Nobody speaks of him or for him, to defend or castigate him; he is completely excommunicated, as if he was never there. All that remains in the film is that Jules makes an emotional flowery speech about the difficulty of marriage (while neglecting to admit that the infidelity was her friggin' idea, not his), everyone cries, Joni goes to college, the end.

I felt betrayed. I certainly did not want some sort of pat happy ending where everyone becomes one big lovey extended family, but the harsh, punishing tone of this ending was totally at odds with the humanistic ebb and flow that preceded it. Not to mention that the movie spends all this time suggesting that people can be right and wrong at the same time, and disagreement is part of being your own person, but then turns around and has everyone unite under Nic while she makes an autocratic decision. The more interesting scene would have been to, say, have Joni mirror Jules from earlier, and stand up to her mother and ask her not to speak to her father that way, that while navigating her own anger for Paul, acknowledge that he should be respected, which Nic has refused to do for the entire movie. Or for Jules to say that she's just as to blame as him for the affair, and that his love for the kids should not be dismissed.

Or more importantly, for the filmmaker to have one last scene with him, back in his old life the next day, or days thereafter, musing on what he had and what he lost, weighing the emotions of it all. The film has carried an omniscient p.o.v. to this point, and even if Paul is effectively gone from the kids' story there's no reason why we can't see his aftermath, especially since we've been allowed to see his life pre-fatherhood.

But no. The children and the director unite in casting out the man-whore from the tribal circle, and rendering him He Who Must Not Be Named.

Lisa Cholodenko is a lesbian, and I do not believe for a second she has any problems with men or fathers, or is in any way some sort of hoary stereotypical "man-hating dyke." I am sure all she intended was to make a compelling drama about everyday mixed-up people and how sometimes they connect and sometimes they clash. At one moment in the film, Jules suggests Nic has offered up an opinion that she is not even concious of knowing she had. And by choosing to present the last image of Paul as humiliated and mute, tarred-and-feathered as if he were a predatory child molestor, Cholodenko is somewhat culpable of that same unconcious communication as well, providing a resolution teetering dangerously close to a freshman-year level mentality of casual misandry. L.A. Weekly critic Ella Taylor praises this moment in her review by stating, "it says something about the mainstreaming of gay culture when a man is turned away from the front door of a lesbian home not because he's straight or because he's a man, but because his heedlessness has threatened the integrity of a family, and a marriage." I'm sorry to sound like a broken record, but what about the heedlessness of the parent who initiated the problem in the first place? Jules gets off lightly with a few nights on the couch and a couple curt conversations.

For that matter, what about the heedlessness of the children? Consider something for a moment: Paul did not hunt this family down and ask to be included. He had a reasonably happy life running his business and having short-term flings and thinking about family only as an abstract. But his children asked to meet him, they sought him out. And being a decent type, he took an interest in their lives and made himself available. And they took him up on it. Then, when he met their mothers, he sought to help out by giving Jules a job she wanted to do. And Jules accepted it. At no time is Paul ever depicted as being overbearing, forcing his company upon the family unit, or making any demands upon them. Yes, Paul committed a big mistake by sleeping with Jules and he certainly deserves to suffer the consequences of that choice, as does Jules when the kids look at her askance for days. But Jules gets to make her speech and he gets nothing? His worst sin is that in a moment of weakness, he said yes to a married woman who wanted to have sex with him. The woman who also happens to be the mother of a child he loves. And now these children, who plucked his name from the file cabinet, who wanted him to be in their lives, now suddenly just turn their heads and kick him to the curb because he's inconvenient and because their Alpha Mom said so? Talk about fucking selfish! Paul started out a happy bachelor, but fatherhood has now left him even more alone than he had been when the movie first started. These kids have ruined this man's life!

By these editorial choices, Cholodenko has thus failed to live up to the spirit of understanding that she promised in the build-up to this resolution, the notion that loving people work through conflict. If we are to honestly believe that this family would have been better off without ever knowing Paul, then she should have presented more bad personality traits in him to make him a credible threat. Again, I don't have a problem with the family writing him off: when Nic bellows "Get your own family," she's right. He didn't spend 18 years dealing with the teething and the pooping and the schooling, Nic and Jules did; that renders them real parents. Providing sperm no more makes you a dad than stuffing feathers in your ass makes you a chicken. But in a world where men who are much more than sperm donors have to be dragged kicking and screaming to show an interest in their children, Cholodenko has presnted us a model of patient, concerned late-term parenthood in Paul, and even if he doesn't deserve this family, he at least deserves the dignity of a good onscreen cry when he loses them.

Friends who saw the movie with me have stated that the movie suggests hope for reconciliation between Joni and Paul, because as she packs for college the morning after the fight, she chooses to take a gardening hat that he gave to her during one of their visits; i.e., she's not totally throwing away all reminders of him. However, I missed this detail, and I don't fully buy it, primarily because Jules is clearly depicted as also owning a similar style of gardening hat; as such, it could just as easily have been hers and not Paul's that gets taken to school. Moreover, even if my friends are right and the former scenario is what Cholodenko wants us to take home, that Joni will find room to forgive Paul by holding this totem of his, it is executed so quickly and so poorly that if an eagle-eyed moviewatcher like me can miss it, in all likelihood most of the audience will miss it as well. If she really wants us to believe their relationship will improve, the symbolism needed to be bigger; not hit-with-a-shovel obvious, just a little larger. But since the gesture is that small, it's just as likely that it doesn't actually exist.

I thought of foxes twice while watching this movie. Most obviously, when the story takes its turn into fluid sexuality, I was reminded of the stately (if often-maligned) Mark Rydell film adaptation of D.H. Lawrence's THE FOX, where Keir Dullea is, for all practical purposes, a literal fox in the henhouse, coming between the long but somewhat stale relationship between Anne Heywood and Sandy Dennis. Gay and straight audiences alike I'm sure are grateful that Cholodenko's film does not take the dark demoralizing turn that Rydell's film did at its end, but I still had to wonder: must all films involving a triangle of gay and straight people end with someone destroyed? I guess in this film, Cholodenko does believe so. Perhaps despite his well-meaning nature, Paul is The Fox, who preys upon chickens because it is in his nature to do so.

And then I thought about one of the most important foxes in literary history, whose encounter with a wandering young monarch has sat at my bedside since I was a child, and still sits there today. A story that Nic and Jules very likely read to Joni and Laser when they were very young:

"Men have forgotten this truth," said the fox. "But you must not forget it. You become responsible, forever, for what you have tamed."

Over the course of an otherwise sweet movie, Joni and Laser found a fox named Paul, and engaged in a rite by which they established ties and made each other unique from the hundreds of anonymous adults and children in the world. And Paul grew to become very happy whenever he knew he would be in their presence. But then when words led to misunderstandings, the children coldly withdrew from the rite. And the director of this movie suggests that they are allowed to shirk any responsibility for the fox whom they have tamed.

And that is a clear indication that the kids are NOT all right.

8/7/10 UPDATE:

A recent posting today by Jeffrey Wells at Hollywood Elsewhere reveals that movie critic Scott Feinberg recently obtained an earlier draft of the script from March 2009 which features a different version of Jules' showstopper speech, one that does offer a vigorous defense of Paul, and an altered ending in which on their way to drop Joni at college, Joni requests a stop to visit with Paul and mend fences with him. Theories abound as to why this superior ending was altered to the terrible one we have now, most suggesting that audiences demand that infidelity be punished somehow, and that the filmmakers accomodated this kind of outdated puritanism. If this is true, I am even more disappointed in Lisa Cholodenko for going against her original instincts.

It's still not all right.