Hey folks, Harry here... You all know my positions on both these films. I've been hailing CABIN FEVER for over a year now. It is a film that really does deserve to do well, if only to push Eli to his Svengali dream of directing the Olsen Twins and a monkey. Then... then there's LOST IN TRANSLATION, which has been a much more recent passion for me... I love LOST IN TRANSLATION deeply... it's apparent success with critics and audiences out at the Venice Film Festival thrill me... There's a hope in me that both of these movies will find wider audiences than one would first expect to find for either. I'd love if by some miracle, some work of hocus pocus, that CABIN FEVER could suddenly pull in a $149.7 million opening weekend and if LOST IN TRANSLATION got an audience of approximately the same size as GONE WITH THE WIND had... but that's the beautiful land of make believe I love to wallow in where the shit sings and Puff the Magic Dragon lived by the sea... sigh... Give both these films a chance... they are opening on busy weekends with a lot of other wonderful films... Don't miss any of them! And in the weeks that follow, take other friends back to them if you feel them worthy...
Howdy,
Here in Dallas, September 1st hit with sudden rain and temperatures that didn't go much higher than seventy degrees, and I thought goddamn, it's fall. It's a beautiful thing.
In keeping with the season, the year's (supposedly) best movies are going to be rolling out. In my opinion, they're off to an amazing start. Here are two reviews of some of the better times I've spent in the theater these past weeks. First up is...
Cabin Fever
'Cabin Fever' is like a refreshing shot in the arm, or perhaps the head. And maybe not a shot, exactly, but a screwdriver. It's not a great film, but it's not really supposed to be -- which actually ends up making it great. Basically, it's a bloody good time, and I of course mean that very literally.
The film begins with five friends (Jordan Ladd, Rider Strong, James DeBello, Cerina Vincent and Joey Kern) graduating from college and setting out for a weekend vacation at a remote cottage in the woods, where they plan to get drunk and have sex. I imagine you have a vague idea about where it goes from there, right? If you don't, you may not be in the target demographic for this movie. Anyway, there is one couple, a boy and a girl who both clearly wish they were a couple, and the requisite goofy friend who plans to go squirrel hunting, and who makes a bet that he'll drink nothing but beer the entire weekend. It ends up being a pretty smart bet.
We know from the moment we see the cabin that things will go badly; in fact, we know from before we even enter the theater, because this is the kind of movie that you go see knowing full well that horrible, horrible things will happen, and that you'll be scared, and that hopefully you'll enjoy it. This is like a 'Friday The 13th' film, where you take bets on who will kick the bucket first.
Except that this is way smarter than any 'Friday The 13th' film. I saw this the same evening that I saw 'Freddy Vs. Jason,' and while that was sort of fun in its own way, this is the real deal. It's also what I was hoping Rob Zombie's 'House Of 1000 Corpses' might have been like. The director, Eli Roth (who also co-wrote the script with Randy Pearlstein) clearly loves horror movies, and so he's simply decided to make a really good one. He throws in one homage after another; the movie starts off evoking 'Evil Dead,' and later moves on to 'The Texas Chainsaw Massacre' and, briefly, 'The Shining.' There's also a shot of some grain elevators that are pretty reminiscent of something in a David Lynch movie, which makes sense, since Roth is Lynch's protege, and Lynch was an uncredited producer on this film (his regular composer, Angelo Badalmenti, also contributed portions of the score).
(Let me break into my normal review mode to say that I've seen the movie twice now, and the second time Eli Roth was there to answer questions. I asked him about Lynch's involvment; he said that while he was in pre-production, he asked Lynch if he could put his name on the project to get more attention. It worked, better than he had expected, and by the time Lynch went to Cannes in 2002, people were thinking that he had directed 'Cabin Fever.' When he finally saw the movie for himself, he told Roth that it was great, and that it didn't need to be overshadowed by his name. So they replaced his exec producer credit with a very special thanks. Also, Roth mentioned that he can be seen in Barbara Streissand's 'The Mirror Has Two Faces,' giving a self-described horrible fucking performance as one of Babs's students. Just FYI -- now back to the review)
The movie isn't exactly scary, aside from a few jumps, but it does have a nice sense of unease to it, and Roth is really keen on escalating moments of sheer grossness. The villain here is not some masked killer or undead ghoul, but a nasty virus that eats away at the flesh of whatever it infects (killer hillbillies do factor in, but at a later point). The kids run into a homeless man who's skin is practically dripping from his body; later, one of the girls gets it, and so they stick her in the shed and try to figure out what to do. Every time they open the shed to check on her or bring her some water, Roth takes extreme delight in drawing out the suspense; we know she's going to just keep looking worse and worse. There's another scene that takes place in a bathtub that is about as cringe-inducing as cringe-inducing gets.
Those who enjoy looking for subtexts may wonder if the virus is an AIDS metaphor, since it first shows up after sexual intercourse. More important than that is the fact the movie contains sex and nudity at all, since they are requisites for this type of film, and also a lot of laughs. This is where the movie is elevated to some sort of classic level; Roth's sense of humor is spot on, and also, to put it mildy, non sequitur. You may get it, you may not; I got it, and I loved every bit of it. You'll see what I mean when you get to the scene with the surfer (played by Roth), or the sex scene, or the harmonica scene, or the pancake scene, or the absolutely brilliant payoff at the very end of the movie. I won't give away any of the jokes, partially because I don't want to spoil them, but also because they just wouldn't make sense outside of the film.
Roth joins the ranks of Richard Kelly ('Donnie Darko') and Lucky McKee ('May'). They're all young directors who grew up on horror films in the eighties, and who are now making their own independent genre films that wear their influences on their sleeves, but at the same time are completely original and also a whole lot smarter. These movies -- and at the moment, this movie in particular -- put a big smile on my face.
But even though I loved it, it didn't fill me with love the way the following film did. I just saw this one this evening, and I can't get it out of my head.
Lost In Translation
Sometimes, a movie is too good to put into writing, and you don't know how to explain it on the appropriate level. A great writer would suggest that you go see the movie for yourself, and then take the time he would have spent on the review and put it towards a novel that would hopefully work as well on a literary scale as the movie he's not writing about does as a film.
I've seen many movies like that, and most of them rank among my favorites. They're why I love movies. The conflict I'm feeling right now, trying to write about Sofia Coppola's 'Lost In Translation,' the way just thinking about it is making me feel more strongly about it, makes me think that it might be one of those movies. It's simply perfect. Perfect, because it is simple. In a movie where so little happens (although there is a lot going on), any false steps in the storytelling, any manipulative tricks would be all the more obvious. Sofia Coppola makes no mistakes. I don't need to extend any more praise on the movie, because that encapsulates everything.
I wonder how much of the movie is autobiographical to her; I imagine a lot of it is, not so much in the factual sense, but in the emotional geography it purveys. I know she spent time living in Tokyo, where this movie takes place. It's about being lost, in a city you don't know and in life you're not quite sure you know any better. I can imagine her feeling exactly like the characters in this movie, because that's how I've felt when I've traveled alone. Being by yourself in a place you don't know can make you reflective, usually too reflective, and it makes you want to find someone to talk to. A connection. It makes you want a hug.
There is one scene I want to talk about. When Bill Murray's Bob carries Scarlett Johansson's Charlotte back to her hotel room after a long night of partying, he lays her on the bed and puts the covers over her, and then leaves quickly, although you can tell he's trying to prolong his departure as long as possible. He knows he won't stay, but he's hoping that maybe she'll ask him to. He makes it out the door and shuts it, and then makes sure it's locked so he knows he won't be able to get back in. In a lesser film -- not necessarily a bad film, but a lesser one -- the door might not have been locked, or he might not have left. But he does, and goes back to his room. He calls his wife; she hangs up before he can tell her he loves her.
This movie makes you ache, and then it comforts you, and it makes you laugh so you don't have to cry, although you may anyway. Or maybe it won't have the same effect on you. By being so vague, I might be building the movie up into something it's not. Like I said, the movie is very simple; it is what it is, and while I think is has something for everyone, maybe there's more for some than others. All I can say to that is that I'd like to thank Sofia Coppola for putting so much there for me.
And that's it for this time. I could review 'The School Of Rock' for you, but...well, like Moriarty said, I think pretty much everyone's already seen it, and it would kinda be a letdown to write about that now.
I'm outta here. Here's hoping it just keeps getting colder (I say as I curse Texas for its schizophrenic weather)
