Sex, Lies and Stephen King
The third week of February was slow going but as that’s my preferred speed, I’m not complaining. I started the week off sick and consequently, got to catch up on 90s films and sleep. Unfortunately, I’m ending it with a renewed dread of five days in the office. But there is a light at the end of the tunnel! Someone decided to make Labour Day and the Oscars land on the same public holiday this year, so I’ll be celebrating March 3rd with a Champagne breakfast and a live watch party at 6:30am.
In the meantime, let’s take a look back on the films I watched this week.
Indecent Proposal - Adrian Lyne
“Have I ever told you I love you?” It’s a phrase Demi Moore and Woody Harrelson rally back and forth at such frequency in the 90s flop Indecent Proposal that I wish I could personally divorce them on the grounds of cringe.
But that’s not exactly the takeaway director Adrian Lyne (who made 9 ½ Weeks, Fatal Attraction and the 1997 Lolita) and the litany of writers brought onto the project want you to have as the credits roll to Roy Orbison’s ‘A Love So Beautiful’. The goal seems to have been to make a cautionary tale about Faustian deals and the importance of that ‘for richer or poorer’ vow. To me, it’s about two idiots who are bad with money and need to go to couple’s therapy.
The general premise is this; Diana (Moore) and David (Harrelson) are married high school sweethearts who’ve been hit by the 1990 recession particularly hard. They’d bought a cracker of a block in Santa Monica but now, having both lost their jobs, they need 50k to stop it being repossessed. They conveniently win half that at craps in Vegas, only to lose it all again the next night.
Thankfully for them, Diana has been noticed by billionaire John Gage (Robert Redford). She kisses his dice (not a euphemism), he wins big and they party. Later that night, the audacious Gage makes the eponymous proposal; he’ll give the couple $1 million if, in return, he gets to spend the night with Diana. Some very silly contract law stuff happens and Diana and Gage apparently do the deed, with the rest of the film dealing with the fallout.
It’s a good setup, I’ll give it that. But none of the nuance about what this would mean for a couple is explored further than David throwing a few tanties and Diana exploring her options. It feels like context is missing to explain Gage’s obsession with Diana, and the whole thing is wrapped up a little too conveniently. The dialogue is also incredibly on the nose and I’m not entirely sure who to blame.
The clunky script is adapted from Jack Engelhard’s 1988 novel and had several writers brought in to work on it, including William Goldman (The Princess Bride, Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid).
But the brunt of the criticism fell on screenwriter Amy Holden Jones, an outcome that’s hardly fair considering there were multiple third-act changes “made primarily by men” (including Redford) to make Gage more sympathetic. Jones even suggested that Moore’s character “leave both men” at the end, to which she was ostensibly laughed out of the room.
All things considered, Indecent Proposal is a bit of a clusterfuck. It fumbles its intriguing setup and worst of all, bores the viewer in the aftermath of the proposal’s consummation. No one’s particularly good in it (apart from Oliver Platt as the couple’s lawyer) and, even by 90s erotic drama standards, it’s embarrassing to watch. I have to admit, I’m a little surprised; I watched Lyne’s Fatal Attraction for the first time recently and kinda dug it. After this one, I’m not sure I’ll explore more of his filmography.
Verdict
☆½
Watched: Sunday February 16th from the comfort of my couch
Runtime: 117 minutes (a long 117 minutes)
How to watch: Stan, Binge or Rent/Buy (I wouldn’t recommend spending money on it)
Misery - Rob Reiner
It took me far too long to watch Misery and I have only Bert Newton to blame. So often did the ankle crunching adaptation of the Stephen King novel feature on Australian TV staple 20 to 1 that I was kinda convinced I’d already seen it. But with the media screening of The Monkey coming up and an impromptu sick day to fill, it seemed my time had come.
Directed by Rob Reiner from a script by William Goldman, Misery is one of the most solid and wholly enjoyable Stephen King adaptations I’ve seen. Like The Shining ten years prior it opens with a man trying to write a novel from the solitude of a snowy mountain hotel. But unlike Jack Torrance, Paul Sheldon (James Caan) has a healthy self care routine in place and instead of butchering his family, celebrates his new untitled manuscript with a well-earned glass of Dom Pérignon.
Unfortunately for Paul, his journey home has a scheduling clash with a snowstorm and results in a serious car accident. But on the plus side, his rescuer is a remarkably strong nurse named Annie Wilkes, who hauls his ass to her remote house and treats his broken legs and dislocated shoulder. She also happens to be the “number one fan” of his Misery Chastain series, which looks and sounds like Victorian chick lit and seems to have garnered Paul moderate commercial (if not critical) success.
But Annie won’t stay in superfan spirits for long; after discovering that Paul kills Misery off in the last entry in his series, she is incensed and demands he rewrite the entire thing. He’s going to be in this weird little single bed in Annie’s weird little world for a while.
There are only a handful of characters in this film but each is cast perfectly and played by their performers with vim. There’s Richard Farnsworth as the endearing Sheriff and Sex and the City’s own Bunny MacDougal (Frances Sternhagen) as his wife and Deputy, who add some hope to the second act. And there’s Lauren Bacall as Paul’s exasperated agent, who has to hassle the authorities to treat his disappearance more seriously. But the film really belongs to its leads, and they’re fantastic.
James Caan, who I’d only ever seen portray cool guys on the wrong side of the law in the 70s and 80s, is refreshingly vulnerable as the helpless, tactless Paul. Caan had earned himself the unofficial title of ‘diva’ for turning down a bunch of roles in films that became classics; he said no to Kramer vs. Kramer, deeming it "middle class bourgeois baloney", Apocalypse Now because Coppola had "mentioned something about 16 weeks in the Philippine jungles" and Superman because he "didn't want to wear the cape". Watching him find his second wind and plot his escape from his eerie confines is thrilling, and I’m sure he had a lovely time lying down for the shoot.
As expected, though, it’s Kathy Bates who steals every scene and earns the film its spot in countdown lists the world over. She’s at once hilarious and genuinely frightening as the delusional, very likely bipolar Annie Wilkes, a woman who serves as a cautionary tale about looking for reality in parasocial relationships. Annie could’ve been a one-dimensional whackadoo but Bates plays her in such a way that she emulates traits of people you’ve met and thought were a bit peculiar. There’s sadness and real substance to Annie; if she’d been an internet dweller in the post-Twilight era, she might’ve discovered fan fiction and this whole situation could’ve been avoided.
Misery is an absolute winner. It’s got a strong set-up, a tight narrative and a satisfying ending, and its stars have great chemistry. It doesn’t do much for Colorado tourism, but take that up with Stephen King.
Verdict
☆☆☆☆½
Watched: Monday February 17th, from a horizontal position
Runtime: 107 thrilling minutes
How to watch: SBS On Demand or our DVD collection
The Monkey - Oz Perkins
I’ve seen several Oz Perkins films and been let down by the hype or recommendation every time. The Blackcoat’s Daughter (here called February) was dull, unsurprising and most offensive of all, unscary, Longlegs seduced me with its expert marketing and then left me in a dry seat wondering “is that it?” and Gretel & Hansel just flat out sucked. Based on past experiences, I held out only marginal hope for his latest, The Monkey. It’s fine, but I’m still holding out hope for his next.
Based on the 1980 short story by Stephen King, The Monkey is about a cursed wind-up monkey toy that deals death in mysterious and hysterical ways. It belongs to the Shelburn family, an item left to twins Hal and Bill (Christian Convery as both) by their pilot father who then vanished and left their mother (Tatiana Maslany) to raise them alone.
The boys discover the monkey one day in a box of their father’s things. On it is the slogan “Like Life” and Bill concludes it’s a typo, idiot. He’s the meaner, slightly older twin; we know this because he’s constantly being a little prick towards his meeker brother Hal, who wears glasses and is therefore the beta. In a rare moment of working together, the pair turn the key in the monkey’s back, and death follows with it.
For about the first half of The Monkey I was having quite a good time. The tone is totally different to other Oz Perkins’ films in that it’s a comedy horror, and in that order. The Final Destination style kills are outlandish and very funny, and the editing helps you get into the rhythm of things. Christian Convery is strong as Hal and Bill, as is Theo James who plays both characters in the “25 years later” time jump. There are some fun guest appearances that add to the comedy and you’re ready to finally get to the bottom of some monkey lore.
And that’s one of the big issues with The Monkey; there’s really no exploration of the toy or its powers. All we know is that it drums in a disconcerting fashion and when the final note is played, someone dies. There’s no making demands because the monkey kills at random. Or at least, it kills someone who is within a 5km radius of the Shelburn family. By this point the whimsy has run its course and I could feel my patience running a bit thin.
The other glaring problem for me is that the monkey itself isn’t particularly scary. I felt more terror from the monkey in Toy Story 3, which just goes to show that tension is not included in the box just because the box is marked “horror”.
I suspect the cause for some of the film’s issues is that the story it’s based on is, by design, short. Some formats are better suited for mystery and ambiguity than others and if you’re going to turn a limerick into an epic, you need to do some extra work to make sure it stretches.
I think the reason I keep coming back to Oz Perkins’ filmography despite disappointment after disappointment is a fascination with his curious history. He comes from a famous family, with members who were actors, photographers, astronomers and psychics. His father, Anthony Perkins, was gay and upfront about it and yet married his mother, Berry Berenson, at her insistence. They remained married until his father died in 1992 from AIDs related pneumonia. And one day before the ninth anniversary of his father’s death, his mother was a passenger on American Airlines Flight 11 (the one that crashed into the north tower), dying in the September 11 attacks.
Knowing the peculiarities of Oz Perkins’ reality do make me appreciate his choice to explore a story that contains so much coincidental death. I think with a bit more time and consideration, The Monkey could’ve been a more interesting, effective film.
As it stands, Oz Perkins’ best work, for me, is starring as David Kidney in Legally Blonde. No shade to David Kidney, but I hope this changes in the future.
Verdict
☆☆☆
Watched: Tuesday February 18th at Event Cinemas Innaloo
Runtime: 98 minutes
How to watch: In cinemas, now
Showgirls - Paul Verhoeven
After the disappointingly hollow The Last Showgirl I found myself with a hankering to revisit Vegas the way God and Paul Verhoeven intended – alongside Nomi Malone for the odyssey that is Showgirls. As fate would have it, VHS Tracking and Luna Leederville would be hosting a Trash Classics screening of the film a week later.
So, with a light buzz from my Nomillini (the signature cocktail at the event) and a bedazzled face, I entered the Interactive Goddess Edition with a goodie bag of chips, Trolli burgers, bubble blowers, balloons, a list of verbal callouts and the knowledge that the ideal - nay - the only way to properly experience Showgirls is alongside rabid fans and perplexed first timers who are wondering what the fuck it is they’re watching. That’s Verhoeven, baby. You’d better strap in.
When Nomi Malone (Elizabeth Berkley) arrives in the city of sin with nothing but a suitcase, it’s understandable that she’d lose her shit if that suitcase was brazenly taken away. She’s coming here to make it as a dancer and showgirl and after being robbed by her ride, she’s having to start at the lowest rung. And the lowest rung is Cheetah’s, a seedy gentlemen’s club run by Al Torres (Robert Davi), a man who says some truly heinous things but it’s 1995, so no one claps back.
While in Vegas Nomi meets and moves in with Molly (Gina Ravera), a seamstress on the topless dance revue Goddess. Through Molly she has an in to this most prestigious of shows but the lead, Cristal Connors (Gina Gershon), proves to be a major obstacle. Along the way we meet a slew of characters, including Cristal’s boyfriend and entertainment director Zack Carey (Kyle MacLachlan), fellow fuck-up and dreamer James Smith (Glenn Plummer) and sharp-tongued Goddess director Tony Moss (Alan Richins), whom Nomi must tolerate if she wants to eventually realise her dream of becoming the lead.
A bunch of other hilarious/horrifying/nonsensical stuff happens in Showgirls and witnessing the chaos is all part of the experience, so I won’t go into any more details if you’ve not had the pleasure. Like other Verhoeven films its strength lies in its ability to give its audience a visceral reaction and elicit responses never previously drawn from other, more conventional films. I only saw it for the first time last year but it left such an impression that I quickly became obsessed with it, stewing over the questions in my head.
Questions like, who is Nomi and what is her social security number? How do you really pronounce Versace – have I been saying it wrong this whole time? And why are there multiple characters in this film with a proclivity for eating Doggy Chow?
Showgirls really is a thing of magic in that you’re not sure how it can be so bad and so amazing at the same time. Of equal magic is Elizabeth Berkley’s performance, misunderstood at the time in that she won a Razzie, but lauded now because her jerky movements and seemingly out of nowhere outbursts are contextually quite understandable.
It’s also a movie that’s frank about sex, and while people in the 90s may have gotten their knickers all twisted at the prospect of full frontal nudity and sex work on screen, we’re now in a much better place and can just enjoy the show.
By the end of Showgirls, you may not know Nomi all that much better than you did at the beginning. But a trauma bond sure does help in being unequivocally on someone’s side.
Verdict
☆☆☆☆
Watched: Friday February 21st, Cinema 5, Luna Leederville
Runtime: 98 minutes
How to watch: Brollie, SBS On Demand or Rent/Buy
And so goes another week of cinematic peaks and troughs, with two wildly different displays of 90s eroticism and two wildly different executions of Stephen King stories. I also managed to fit a rewatch of The Martian in there somewhere but I don’t have too much to say about that other than that I enjoyed it and potatoes save lives. Until next time!
