Beetlejuice (1988)
I, the Video Game Doomsayer, believe there are very few films that feel this inseparable from their director than Beetlejuice and Tim Burton. This movie set Tim Burton as a champion of the weird yet whimsical gothic esthetic oozing out of Beetlejuice, Edward Scissorhands, and the recent Wednesday series. Just the strip down plot of a recently deceased couple trying to scare a different couple who moved into their home, has the making for a dark and haunting horror film. However, with the kind-hearted nature of the Maitland’s, the innocence of Lydia Deetz, and the mischievous trickster nature of the titular Beetlejuice, allows the film to dance between comedic and gothic tones with ease. This movie is certainly unworthy of the simple sequel slop that has been dripping from the Hollywood’s sick mouth. If it were only that simple.
Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice
I’ll confess I went into Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice, like a shark venturing into blood infested waters. Trading away Alec Baldwin and Geena Davis’s characters for the addition of Jenna Ortega’s character just set off the lazy sequel alarm bells in my head. With 2024 being the year of mining old movies hoping to strike gold, I couldn’t resist going into Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice guns drawn, looking for a fight. An opening with Lydia Deetz being a TV ghost whisper also felt like a betrayal of her character from the previous film. My sour demeanor continued until Beetlejuice busted out the acoustic guitar and started playing Richard Marx’s Right Here Waiting. A move that instantly caused a smile to crack through my icy exterior. From that moment, I began to enjoy more of the wacky humor in the second half, leading me to decide Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice is not a film made out of malice.
It is, however, a bit of a mess of a film, with a bad case of the sequelitis; a disease that forces movies to be bigger but not better than their previous iterations. Beetlejuice has moved from antagonist to anti-hero, and the film’s villains come and go on mere whims; most of them struggling to find any reason to be in the story. One is a ghost that tricks Jenna Ortega out of her soul, but is easily banished away by Beetlejuice. The second is Beetlejuice’s ex-wife, who is also tricked into her own demise by Beetlejuice. Willem Dafoe is also hamming it up as an underworld cop who was an action-movie cop in his previous life, but his character also struggles to contribute in any meaningful way. Overall, the script does very little to hide the fact it was written after Burton was able to secure his favorite actors for the movie: the Adam Sandler method. I do not believe Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice warrants the ire of other half-baked sequels and spinoffs such as Twisters, The Strangers: Chapter One or Madame Web. More just a mess. A lovable, charming mess, but a mess nonetheless.
Mulholland Drive (2001)
To the surprise of no one, I walked out of David Lynch’s Mulholland Drive bewildered and scratching my head. The film is about a young woman who ventures to Hollywood hoping to start an acting career. This plan partially goes off the rails when she befriends a woman suffering from amnesia. While this summary makes the film seem tame, it soon dives into a pool of weird, as the second half hints that the two women might have known each other in past lives. Though I am merely speculating.
Despite going 0 for 2 in terms of understanding David Lynch’s films, I definitely don’t hate his movies. There’s a dream-like quality to them that makes me want to explore deeper, hoping to find meaning. There is certainly a chance I could spend a lifetime trying to understand Lynch’s work, only to conclude he may not be making any point at all. Yet, I am still drawn to peeling the mystery of Lynch’s films like a hypnotic onion. As always, if you are into the weird and the macabre, then Mulholland Drive is for you. Rest easy, Mr. Lynch.
Friday the 13th: The Final Chapter (1984)
I can’t help but smile at the irony of a franchise having a final chapter or last dance. We all know the studios will come back and demand another sacrifice on the altar of capitalism. Jason would go on to slaughter teens in six additional Friday the 13th films, a spinoff fight with Freddy, and one forgotten remake. It’s never the final chapter in Hollywood. I would call upon Hollywood to repent their wicked ways, stop going to the sequel bucket and take chances on new stories, but alas, I know my pleas will fall upon deaf ears.
Despite the slow erosion of the movie industry, I would say Friday the 13th: The Final Chapter is a solid slasher film. The characters have enough personality to not feel like stock characters. The kills are creative enough and the effects are able to support them despite being forty years old. It would surely be unfair to compare Jason’s fourth outing to the recent work of Art the Clown or Johnny from In a Violent Nature. However, I still say this film is a solid 80s slasher film that walks the line between campy and scary quite well. Go forth and enjoy this film with friends and alcohol. Let laughter roar at the site of young Corey Feldmen’s bald head.
Get Out (2017)
This is a perfect example of why I stand atop my soapbox and praise the horror genre. We all understand fear. We all know what it feels like when the dead of night is interrupted by a loud sound emanating from the dark. This uneasiness can do a lot of heavy lifting to showcase moments that could be tense for a certain group of people. Basically what I’m trying to say is, I, the Video Game Doomsayer, was one of many who walked out of Get Out understanding how some of my past actions could have made black followers uncomfortable. This is the beauty of horror; its metaphorical nature allows artists to get messages across because fear is universal.
My only complaint about Get Out? I don’t think it survives the rewatch. Movies like Sinister and Skinamarink, will always make my skin crawl despite knowing how the film will go. Get Out doesn’t really have that; a lot of the uncomfortable atmosphere vanishes when you know why characters are acting a certain way. Does this diminish Get Out? In the words of Jordan Belfort in Wolf of Wall Street, absolutely fucking not. All the heathens who think Get Out is a bad film will await their judgments in the dark pits of damnations.
Cars (2006)
Cars is a prime example of a film that can showcase complex ideas like friends and taking things slow while having Larry the Cable Guy voice a talking tow truck. Very few studios rival Pixar in the ability to showcase adult themes while having characters that hypnotize small children. Even though we turned on the film to distract a small child, I began contemplating if I was taking things too fast in my own life, just as the star Lightning McQueen was doing. I do wish Disney, not just Pixar, got back to making films that both young and older audiences could enjoy, instead of the intellectual property fracking that they engage with lately. I will say, as someone who recently moved to this part of the country that Radiator Springs is based on, I can tell you it is as stunning as the movie portrays.
Having recently picked up my soapbox and moved to the southwest, I have been trying to include more westerns into my regiment of filmography. One day, I decided to watch the film, Rango, in a long dusty alleyway. The tale is about a city chameleon stumbling upon a western outpost and becoming the town’s sheriff. Part way through, a fellow vagabond approached me and claimed Rango was a great tribute to the westerns of old. I agreed with him that moments within Rango couldn’t exist without previous generations of westerns, in particular the scene with the Spirit of the West. I also told him I believe the film was doing enough to be more than just mere homage to the films of old. Ideas of believing in yourself, putting community before your own self, and how the true snake can often be people in positions of power are all blended together in a way that feels fresh for a western. Maybe this is exposing my inexperience with the genre, but I will always turn to the wise words of the Spirit of the West in times of need.
A Clockwork Orange (1971)
Much like David Lynch’s catalog, most Kubrick films take me a day or two to mull over. It wasn’t until I mentioned my thoughts to that same vagabond that I was able to piece it together. I told him I felt like A Clockwork Orange was divided into two halves: one where protagonist Alex runs amuck as a street thug and the second where the government, police, scientists and even all the people he wrong get their turn to use and abuse him. The old timer immediately responded that it sounded like an eye for an eye situation. At that instant, I could see the question Kubrick was asking: do the worst of the worst deserve to be used and abused to pay their pound of flesh. I would like to think I would say yes, but I will also admit that I hope people who cut me off in traffic have their tires go flat. Maybe Kubrick was trying to say forgiveness is harder than perceived, and failure to do so will land us all in the pits of Hell.
I am fearful of the Lilo & Stitch live action remake that Disney plans to drop into theaters like a disinterested lunch lady dropping a slop of cold left-overs onto a tray. The original Lilo & Stitch is a colorful, whimsical adventure of a destructive alien, learning that you can find a family even with you don’t initially have one. It’s a film with a lot of heart, and even more expressive faces. Faces that don’t really translate to live action. I direct that ire to The Lion King remake and the recent Mufasa film as example of films failing to be as expressive as their animated counterparts. The one saving grace of the upcoming live-action remake, is they don’t seem to be making Stitch look anything like a realistic creature; allowing them to hopefully keep Stitch’s wild facial expressions. Alas, the original Lilo & Stitch is a heart-warming film, and I will continue to shout atop my soapbox that Disney should go back to making films like this. Continuing to engage in fracking their intellectual property will only bring their SLOW AND INEVITABLE DEMISE!
At first, I was greatly perplexed by Being John Malkovich; the concept of inhabiting the body of a celebrity felt a little out of place in the 90s. However, when you consider the biggest movie of 1999, it starts to make more sense. The film is The Matrix; a film about abandoning your previous life to become something more. This makes Being John Malkovich feel right at home in the year 1999, a year when the internet was in its youth, and we were exploring being different people online. Although The Matrix and Being John Malkovich share similar themes, I would say the buck stops there. This film doesn’t have the same put together world that The Matrix does. It never explains why there is a seventh and a half floor, why there is a tunnel that makes you John Malkovich, or why John Malkovich sees everyone as himself when he goes into the tunnel. Yet, I admire how comfortable it is in its weirdness, and how focused it is on asking what we would do if we could inhabit someone else’s body. I stand before you all with a proclamation: LET MOVIES BE AS WEIRD AS BEING JOHN MALKOVICH!!!