My Top Ten: Overused Songs in Film and Television

Pop music and films are like peanut butter and chocolate – well, maybe not quite. That implies some sort of undeniable cosmic, fated force drawing the two together like soulmates. Pop music and films are more like peanut butter and banana – still pretty damn good. There’s something about the perfect pop song synchronized beautifully with a key moment or epic montage that can prove iconic. Stealer’s Wheel will never sound the same after Quentin Tarantino got his hands on “Stuck in the Middle With You.”

But what about when several filmmakers grasp on to the same catchy ditty? What songs have been so overused that they border on cliché? Some of these songs are used so repeatedly that they become shorthand for what the scene in the movie is supposed to encapsulate. It’s a shame, as many of these songs were used brilliantly the first time, or even the first few times. After awhile, though, these songs are so overused that they are almost expected; they can’t even be used without irony. They are parodied so often that the parody itself becomes a cliché, and that parody gets parodied, and that parody gets parodied and so forth in an ever-rambling hall of postmodern mirrors. In effect, the song gets ruined. Or is in great risk of being ruined.

Thus, without further rambling, I present my list of 10 songs I think are overused in film and television. The artistic value of these songs is extinct, or else greatly endangered, which is regrettable as most of these are pretty kick-ass tunes:

10. The Clash – “London Calling”

As seen in: What a Girl Wants (2003), Die Another Day (2002), Billy Elliot (2000), Friends (1998).

How endangered? On par with the whales. Yeah, they’re endangered, but they’re still so awesome, majestic, and demanding of respect that it’s hard to imagine the world without this juggernaut of… er, awesomeness. How does the greatest punk band of the 70s become equated with the lowest point of Colin Firth’s career? Easy. When “London Calling” somehow because the go-to song for blasting over the establishing shots of London as the annoying American protagonist crosses the Pond. It quickly eclipsed “Rule Brittania” once that got the parody death-knell via Austin Powers, and a new generation of uninspired filmmakers grasped in vain for that hipster edge.

Honourable mention: “Should I Stay or Should I Go”

9. Jimi Hendrix – “All Along the Watchtower”

As seen in: Watchmen (2009), Battlestar Gallactica (2009), Withnail & I (1987), Rush (1991)

How endangered?  As long as filmmakers continue to use “All Along the Watchtower” respectfully (Does anything beat the way it was used in BSG? Although one would argue… no, I won’t go there.), this one should manage to pull through, kinda like a tiger. Hendix is equated with instant cool, and this tune is a smoky motif of the dark frontier of the counter-culture. Where is there to go next? The mystery is instantaneous but recognizable, and as long as this one manages to squeak through another ten years without gracing too many soundtracks, its beauty should remain intact.

Honourable mentions: “Foxy Lady,” “Voodoo Childe,” “Purple Haze”

8. Elton John – “Rocket Man” (suggested by Megan Maliszewski)

As seen in: Cold Case (2005), The Astronaut Farmer (2006), Life on Mars (2007), Nip/Tuck (2003), Six Feet Under (2003), K-PAX (2001), The Rock (1996)

How endangered? Like William Shatner’s career. Which isn’t that endangered, if we’re talking about pure survival. “Rocket Man” will be around awhile, but our respect for it? Hm, that’s another story. So, someone’s ascending into space/about to do something really epic or stupid - and you need a song to underscore it. You have two options, David Bowie’s “Space Oddity” or Elton John’s “Rocket Man.” Which one do you pick? “Space Oddity” is likely to scare the children, so here’s your answer, “Rocket Man.” Yes, O great song beloved of Shatner, “Rocket Man.”

Honourable mentions: “Benny and the Jets,” “Tiny Dancer,” “Don’t Go Breaking My Heart”

7.George Thorogood – ”Bad to the Bone” (suggested by Shannon Grant)

As seen in: Beverly Hills Chihuahua (2008), Las Vegas (2005), Joe Dirt (2001), 3000 Miles to Graceland (2001), The Parent Trap (1998), Problem Child (1990) AND the sequel (1991)

How endangered? Like an elephant. Whenever you see a giant herd of elephants stampeding towards you, it’s natural to get a little afraid (I’m assuming, as I’ve never actually had the pleasure of seeing a giant herd of elephants stampeding towards me. One can imagine, though.). I suppose this fear is what the original intent of “Bad to the Bone” was, but its application towards everyone from children to Chihuahuas to David Spade really only dregs up some long-lost semblance of fear that isn’t really recognisable as anything remotely frightening. Just large and lazy.

Honourable mention: Nothing as soul-suckingly overused as “Bad to the Bone.”

6. Journey – “Don’t Stop Believin’” (suggested by Scott Baitz)

As seen in: Glee (2009), Bedtime Stories (2008), Scrubs (2003), The Comebacks (2007), The Sopranos (2007),  Monster (2003)

How endangered? A song as stereotypically uplifting as “Don’t Stop Believin’” will always have a soft, mushy, might-be-going-off part in people’s hearts. Like the Panda bear, its black and white view of sentimentality will keep you emotionally hooked, which is quite a feat for something that lacks any real depth. You can keep believing, but that doesn’t really mean anything. You’ll just feel like it does.

Honourable mention: “Open Arms”

5. Steppenwolf – “Born to be Wild” (suggested by Megan Maliszewski)

As seen in: Recess: School’s Out (2001), Connie and Carla (2004), My Name is Earl (2005), Herbie Fully Loaded (2005), Borat (2006), Dudley Do-Right (1999), Six Feet Under (1999), Home Improvement (1991), Knight Rider (1982), Easy Rider (1969)

How endangered? As the natural environment of the late-sixties rebel slowly erodes and is replaced with the more tepid waters of the snivelling pre-schooler (i.e. from Easy Rider to Rugrats in several easy steps), Steppenwolf’s classic will have lost all its bite and will only live on in captivity… like the polar bears. Cue all the “born to be mild” puns.

Honourable mention: “Magic Carpet Ride”

4. Alice Cooper – “School’s Out”

As seen in: Shriek If You Know What I Did Last Friday the Thirteenth (2000), The Faculty (1998), Scream (1996), Reality Bites (1994), Dazed and Confused (1993), The Simpsons (the Kamp Krusty episode!) (1992), Rock ‘n’ Roll High School (1979)

How endangered? Every kid – at least the ones I knew – sang this song as they skipped home on the last day of school. Even at the age of occasionally wetting the bed we knew to sing it with a sense of irony. “School’s Out” is nothing but a stab in the back. School’s never out forever, children. Only for the summer (as Alice reminds up in his Staples commercial). Something in the bitter growl of Alice’s voice reminds us of this inevitability; that joy is fleeting. With the song’s inherent darkness, it became perfectly synched to wide shots of jaded youth everywhere. This “inherent darkness” of course inevitably meant cheesier and cheesier horror flicks before crashing and burning with pure spoof. “School’s Out” is a California Condor, an endangered vulture: full of ancient mystique but something of a ridiculous horror cliché.

Honourable mention: “No More Mr. Nice Guy”

3. 2 Unlimited – “Get Ready for This” (suggested by Andrew Brown)

As seen in: Bride Wars (2009), The Office (2006), How to Eat Fried Worms (2006), South Park (2004), Bedazzled (2000), Bring It On (2000), Flubber (1997), Friends (1996), Space Jam (1996)

How endangered? “Y’all ready for this?!” Not quite. Well, I was ready, but then I got bored and took a nap. This song doesn’t quite keep me awake and pumped up like it used to. Perhaps that’s due to it being used – repeatedly – as a the national anthem of Team Underdog as they prepare themselves for the almighty death-or-glory battle of a lifetime. We were interested, but now we don’t care because it’s just so passé. Kinda like the bison: a historical artefact that somehow is still kicking around like an unmatched sock in the laundry basket.(“What do you mean they’re not extinct yet?”)

Honourable mention: “Twilight Zone”

2. Marvin Gaye – “Let’s Get It On” (suggested by Jagoda Janik)

As seen in: Austin Powers: The Spy Who Shagged Me (1999), High Fidelity (2000), Scrubs (2003), Something’s Gotta Give (2003), Bridget Jones: Edge of Reason (2004), Crank (2006), Blades of Glory (2007), and more.

How endangered? Like the Baiji dolphin, assumed extinct. Obscure reference, I know, but fitting. The baiji dolphin – a victim of industrialisation along the Yangtze River – has not been seen for years, much how any ounce of artistry this song once had has been quashed by the reams of lazy filmmakers who couldn’t find anything more original. Its use in Austin Powers is the perfect example of something so clichéd that all irony has been sapped out of it. It’s just… dead. Even if we’re reluctant to admit it.

Honourable mentions: “Sexual Healing,” “Heard it Through the Grapevine,” “What’s Going On?” and pretty much every song Marvin Gaye ever recorded.

1. Carl Douglas – “Kung Fu Fighting” (suggested by Megan Maliszewski)

As seen in: Kung Fu Panda (2008), Rush Hour 3 (2007), My Name is Earl (2006), Epic Movie (2007), I’m Gonna Git You Sucka (1988), That 70s Show (1999), Beverly Hills Ninja (1997), Bowfinger (1998), Daddy Day Care (2003)… so pretty much every comedy about ninjas ever… all three of them.

How endangered? Dinosaurs. And don’t give me this “dinosaurs are still around, they evolved into birds” crap (technically, you are correct, I know), but unless “Kung Fu Fighting” evolves into…. wow, there’s nothing I can think of that I can evolve into that will somehow be new and original. Nothing.

Honourable mentions: Did he have any other songs? That has to be the lowest blow of them all, your only hit is a now a cliché. I guess that must be expected when you write a catchy disco-type number about ninjas.

P.S. Assignment: Pirates are way cooler than ninjas and everyone knows it. Discuss.

Other Honourable Mentions: Green Day – Good Riddance (Time of Your Life) (suggested by Alana Peters), Queen (feat. David Bowie) – “Under Pressure” (suggested by Becca Strom), Simon and Garfunkel – “The Sound of Silence,” James Brown – “I Got You (I Feel Good),” The Specials – “Ghost Town”

Thank you great people of the interwebs for your suggestions! There are countless songs that have been overused by Hollywood. What are some more?

The Box (2009)

The Box starts with an intriguing premise: a happily married couple (Cameron Diaz and James Marsden) find a box left on their front step. Inside is a button, which, if they press, they will receive one million dollars. The catch: someone, somewhere, who they do not know, will die. It’s an intriguing question, which instantly forces you to internally ask yourself, “Would I push the button?”

Beginning as such, the film carries enough suspense. Will they push they button? Will they?! In and of itself, this forms what should be the heart of the story. Based on a short story by Richard Matheson (“Button, Button”), and later adapted into an episode of The Twilight Zone, the adaptation of this premise into a feature-length film seems rather ill-advised. Suspense, interesting enough characterization, fundamental and unanswerable existential questions, they’re all there, but it simply cannot be sustained over the course of nearly two hours. You come away with the profound feeling that the message has somehow been lost in adaptation. In an attempt to flesh out this premise, the plot meanders, confuses, and generally takes everything a little too far to be taken seriously.

The result is a campy, uneven, virtually anachronistic film. Set in 1976, the experience of watching The Box made me feel like I was watching an old film, one perhaps actually made in 1976. Like when you often watch an old film, you get that feeling that “this was probably actually good in its time.” Yet this is not an old film. The Box seems outdated. As entertaining as it can be at times, the performances are a little campy, the pacing is irregular, and frankly, there’s nothing very original about it. It peaks at the premise but can’t sustain itself for anything beyond.

originally published at pressplus1.com

Eat Drink Man Woman… then eat some more

I watched Eat Drink Man Woman (1994) the other day (for the first time, which is strange since I’m such a fan of Ang Lee). The story of a widowed father and his three grown-up daughters living under one roof manages to walk that ever-so-thin tight rope of sweet and heartfelt without falling into the pit of sentimentality. Chu, the patriarch and professional chef, is slowly watching his daughters grow independent. As they find themselves through religion, career, and love, Chu continues to make the family’s traditional Sunday meal: a huge, multi-course array of culinary masterpieces, which provides a thematic centre pin for the story. As one of the characters notes, families communicate in different ways, and this family communicates with food. “Eat, drink, man, woman,” says Chu, “Basic human desires. Can’t avoid them.” The film will also make you very, very hungry. Just as you should never go grocery shopping on an empty stomach, be warned when you start this flick: your chances of running out to the nearest takeaway increase exponentially the further into the film you go.

A good suggestion would be to make yourself up some lovely Taiwanese food and enjoy yourself a banquet while you watch:

 Taiwan Fried Rice

 4 cups cooked rice  

3 Tbsp vegetable oil

1/2 cup diced ham

1/2 cup green peas

1/2 cup diced carrots

2 scallions, thinly sliced

1 Tbsp minced garlic

1/4 cup soy sauce

1/2 cup crushed pineapple

 Heat the oil in a large wok or skillet. Saute the garlic, ham, peas, carrots and scallions until tender. Stir in the soy sauce and pineapple. Add the rice and toss until thoroughly mixed. (serves 4)

Pork Stir-Fry with Chinese Vegetables

1 pound pork loin, cut into 1/2″ cubes

2 Tbsp sesame oil

1 Tbsp minced garlic

4 baby bok choy, stalks trimmed & separated

1 carrot, thinly sliced

2 stalks of celery, thinly sliced 

8 mushrooms, thinly sliced

1/2 onion, thinly sliced

1/4 cup soy sauce

1 cup pork stock or vegetable broth

2 Tbsp cornstarch dissolved in 1/4 cup water

Heat the oil in a large wok or skillet. Stir-fry the pork with garlic and onion until lightly browned. Add the carrots and celery, and stir-fry until tender. Add the bok choy and stir-fry until tender. Add the soy sauce and stock, stirring the meat and vegetables to mix thoroughly. Stir in the cornstarch and simmer until slightly thickened, being careful not to overcook the vegetables. (serves 2-4)

Shrimp & Water Chestnut Croquettes

 1 pound shrimp, peeled & deveined

4 water chestnuts, finely minced

1 egg, slightly beaten

2 scallions, thinly sliced

1 teaspoon grated ginger root

1 tsp minced garlic

1 teaspoon salt

4 teaspoons cornstarch

1 cup panko (Japanese bread crumbs)

Vegetable oil for frying

Hoisin Sauce (optional)

 Using a cleaver, finely mince the shrimp until it forms a smooth paste. In a large bowl, combine the shrimp paste, minced water chestnuts, egg scallions, ginger, garlic, cornstarch and salt. Mix thoroughly. Place the bread crumbs in a shallow mixing bowl. Using a tablespoon, scoop the shrimp mixture one spoonful at a time into the bread crumbs and toss lightly with your fingers to coat and form a ball. Remove each piece from the bread crumbs and set aside on a plate until time to fry. Pour 1″ of vegetable oil in a large wok or skillet and place over high heat. Test the oil temperature with a small drop of the shrimp mixture. The oil is ready when the test drop sizzles. Carefully slip each coated ball into the oil, but do not overcrowd the pan. Fry until golden brown, turning once. If desired, serve with commercially prepared Hoisin Sauce for dipping. (makes about 18 croquettes)

Hot and Sour soup

 1/2 cup rice wine

8 dried mushrooms (cloud ear, shitake, etc)

1 Tbsp grated ginger root

3 Tbsp sesame oil

1/2 onion, thinly sliced

1/2 cup sliced bamboo shoots

4 cups vegetable stock

5 Tbsp apple cider vinegar

5 Tbsp soy sauce

1/2 tsp Chinese chili paste

 Warm the rice wine in a saucepan or microwave and soak the dried mushrooms in it for 15 minutes. Heat oil in a large soup pot. Stir fry the ginger, onion, rehydrated mushrooms, and bamboo shoots until tender. Pour in the vegetable stock and any leftover rice wine from the mushrooms. Add soy sauce, vinegar and chili paste. Bring to a boil and simmer for 5 minutes. The amount of soy sauce, vinegar, and chili paste may be adjusted to individual taste to make the soup more or less hot and sour. (serves 4)

Thanks to Things Asian for these recipes!

A Boondock Saints Sequel? Please tell me this is a badly timed April Fools’ joke.

SPOILER ALERT

First of all, Willem Dafoe was killed off in the first one, so what the hell are you playing at?

I’ve seen Boondock Saints once. I liked it. My sister is obsessed with it. She does, of course, harbour weird and twisted deep feelings for Willem Dafoe, so I’ve generally come to question her taste on most things. Awesome actor? Yes. Would I kick him out of bed for eating crackers? Hell yes, I would. Who the hell eats crackers in bed anyway? My god. That’s what kitchen tables are for. Anyway, it was a good movie, typical of all those post-Tarantino gangster/vigilante type movies the late 1990s were rife with, but a good one at least.

And now we have another stellar entry on the list of Completely Unnecessary Sequels, in the “Subtitles Cheesier than Softcore Porn” category: sandwiched between Cinderella II: Dreams Come True and Ace Ventura: When Nature Calls. It ranks higher on this list than Ace Ventura because at least Ace Ventura taught my childhood self what guano was, and ranks lower than Cinderella, because how do you make a shitty straight-to-video sequel for a story that’s been around since 900 AD? “Boondock Saints II: All Saints Day” sounds like just that, a straight-to-video crapfest that you would imagine starred Steven Segal and was filmed in somewhere like Calgary. If this press release came out on April 1, I would have totally thought it was a joke.

Guess who joined the cast? Surely as an attempted replacement for Willem Dafoe…. Judd Nelson. That’s right. I’m sure you just said, “The guy from The Breakfast Club?” I said that. So did my sister when I told her. I feel kinda bad ripping into this film when I haven’t even seen it. For all I know it could be freaking awesome. A total mastubatory gigglefest. Perhaps they should have hired a more original marketing team, however. When this is the best poster you can get…

… and I didn’t hear about this film until September 2009, and it’s been in production since early 2008… that’s a problem. I just don’t understand this need to create unprovoked sequels. Sure they make a little money, but let’s be honest, the films that have formed full franchises that actually work are far and few between (e.g. Lord of the Rings, Harry Potter, Star Wars – the original trilogy at least, James Bond – well, some of them? Okay, so maybe very, very, very few actually work). In my perspective, these sequels work because when the first film was produced, the wider story had already been conceived. The story was already more than one film. It’s just when the proverbial “they” take a stand-alone story and try to shoehorn in a sequel; it’s tacked-on and it’s obvious. 

What about you? Are you excited for this, or dreading it? Are there any other sequels that make you cringe as though you just downed your fifth shot of tequila only to find out that you also just swallowed the worm?

20 Most Epic Moments In The Lord of the Rings

Ah, The Lord of the Rings. The epic to end all epics. Cinema experienced a resurgence in the epic genre during the nineties and early noughties, which really culminated in LOTR. Can you think of anything more epic or more recent? Nothing can top it.

In an attempt to get some work done yesterday, I put The Lord of the Rings on in the background. I got through the entire trilogy over the course of the day. I was over-caffeinated and far under the average levels of human normalcy. During nearly twelve long hours, as I got some writing done, and my roommate went about the course of her day – coming and going, leading a far healthier social life than me – we geeked out just a little bit too much. The progress tracked on Twitter, I’ve come up with the 20 Most Epic Moments in The Lord of the Rings. Without further ado:

20. Arwen’s Watery Horsies Take Out the Nazgul

I know, some people have their beefs with Arwen, but she is pretty kick-ass in the first film. This moment shows just how powerful she can be. It’s a perfect introduction to the elves in general: their calmness, their grace, and their quiet-yet-frightening magic.

19. Frodo Gets By With a Little Help From His Friend.

On the slopes of Mount Doom, as Frodo collapses, Sam epically bellows: “I can’t carry it for you, but I can carry you!” as he hoists Frodo into the air, and I always expect the soundtrack to kick into Whitney Houston: “And I-I-I-I-I-I will always lo-ove yoooooou!”

18. Mourning Gandalf

After Gandalf is supposedly taken by shadow and flame, the most heartbreaking moment occurs on the rocky hills outside. The brightness of the snow-covered landscape stands in perfect contrast to the dark and fiery pits of Mordor, and we – along with the Fellowship – slowly let sink in what just happened.

17. Eomer Finds Eowyn on the Battlefield

One of the best additions in the extended edition: Eomer finds his sister, apparently killed in a battle he never knew she was a part of. Karl Urban rocks this scene, brining a tenderness and humanity to Eomer that was previously masked by his attempts at macho chauvinism.

16. Nature Kicks Ass: the Ents PWN Isengard

The Last March of the Ents truly epitomizes Tolkien’s theme of nature vs industry in the most base way. I also love the one little ent who runs into the water and puts out his flaming head (at 4.11 in this clip).

15. Bilbo Resists Temptation – Barely.

If you saw this in theatres back in the day, you must remember how many people screamed as the shadow passes over Bilbo when he’s tempted by the ring around Frodo’s neck. I remember seeing this for the second time with a friend and my sister (her first time). We grabbed her wrist at this moment and she literally screamed. It would have been hilarious if she was the only one, but she wasn’t! This moment really hammers home just how powerful the addiction of the ring is. (This video was the best I could find.)

14. Legolas: Two Orcs, One Arrow

Admittedly, I was a little put off by the way Legolas’s killing sprees had to one-up themselves each film. The two orcs, one arrow was clearly the best and most realistic one. Surfing down the stairs and taking down two mumakil is pretty damn close to jumping the shark. The moment I’m talking about occurs at 0.30 in the video.

13. From The Tallest Tower to the Depths of Hell

Best. Shot. Ever. From Galdalf trapped atop Orthanc, the tower at Isengard this brilliant shot swoops down the side of the tower right down into the depths of the cavernous pits where the Uruk-hai are being born.

12. Gandalf Battles His Foe Through Shadow and Flame

What an amazing way to start The Two Towers! Perhaps the most epic duel since Obi-Wan and Darth Vader. ‘Nuff said.

11. Wormtongue Realizes His Mistake… Whoopsie-doodles.

As Saruman addresses his legions of deformed soldiers, Wormtongue hovers in the background. That terrified look on his face shows his realization of how totally, utterly, majorly, epically he’s cocked-up.

10. Gollum Finally Gets the Ring Back… with a side order of Death.

The joy and elation of Gollum’s face when he’s finally reunited with his precious, followed by the sudden shock that he’s a split second from death, form a perfect ending for such a tragic figure. (Okay, so the only video I could find of this scene is set to Johnny Cash’s “Ring of Fire.” Apologies/”You’re Welcome”s)

9. Boromir Takes a Licking and Keeps on Ticking… well, for awhile

Boromir’s death scene was quite epic. Not many dudes can take that many arrows to the torso and keep fighting. It made me respect just that little bit more.

8. Pippin’s Lament for Faramir (and all those nameless soldiers we don’t care about riding into Osgiliath)

Peregrin “Pippin” Took: great comic relief, but not the guy you want on your side in battle. Good thing he’s got the voice of an angel because nothing says “dude, we’re gonna die” like an American Idol-worthy hobbit singing a teary ballad as you depart. It’s almost like he doomed them, isn’t it?

7. The Opening Battle Scene

All kinds of epic. From the vast armies sweeping over the hills to Elrond’s terse battle calls, the opening scene of the trilogy really made you sit up and go “Holy F- -K!” How they were able to top that is anyone’s guess. (This video is set to the Benny Hill music. Again, apologies/thanks)

6. Gandalf Performs the Facelift of a Lifetime

As Gandalf casts the spell of Saruman off of Theoden, the special effects are seamless: we see Theoden perfectly transition back from the Cryptkeeper to Bernard Hill. With the clever cut to Saruman slamming back to the floor in his little lair in Orthanc, the scene is brilliantly magical, without puffs of smoke and bolts of lightning.

5. Haldir’s Death… weepies.

What is it that’s so awesome about Haldir? We don’t really see him all that often, yet your heart breaks when you see him taken down during the battle at Helm’s Deep. *tear* (What is it with the elves, that all I can find on Youtube are tribute videos?)

4. Gollum’s Conversation With, er… himself?

The clever camera work here is what really makes this scene. The two sides of Gollum – Gollum/Smeagol – are perfectly characterized and this really underlines what a fantastic achievement Gollum was from a filmmaking perspective. You never feel you’re watching CGI.

3. Theoden’s Heart-Stirring Pre-Battle Morale Boost

You’d have to be a corpse not to be moved by this speech. And a pretty dead one, too. Not a freshly dead one. Here we see a king who truly realizes that everything is on the line here. You get a feeling that he’s aware of the fact that this is his last day on earth. Love the clanging of his swords against all their spears, too. Nice touch.

2. “I am no man!” Eowyn FTW

This scene is proof that Eowyn is the most badass character in LOTR. With the exception of Sauron, The Witch King of Angmar is the biggest baddie of them all. And, since no one actually kills Sauron in hand-to-hand combat (and it took an ENTIRE ARMY and a bunch of hobbits to bring him down), the fact that Eowyn makes the Witch King her bitch like you wouldn’t believe makes her pretty badass. I always keep expecting the Witch King to shriek: “I’m melting! I’m melting!” as well.

1. The Lighting of the Beacons

The stirring music! The swooping across the mountain tops! The call for help from one kingdom to another! The knowledge that yes, Rohan will answer! Yes, men will unite! Evil will be vanquished! And some poor Rohan employee – whose ENTIRE JOB is to notice when the beacon is lit – has his thunder stolen by Aragorn, the damn king of men. What a jerk.

My Top Ten: Antiheroes

by Ashleigh Rajala
Ever since Satan in Milton’s Paradise Lost, there’s always been a certain je ne sais quoi about a well-wrought antihero. Whether cheeky rogue or bloodthirsty tyrant, an antihero is a welcome deviation from the white-hatted norm. At once both appalling and subversive, a good bad guy / bad good guy always proves a more interesting character than the morally unambiguous square-jawed hero. There’s something relatable in their flaws, something endlessly intriguing in their motivations; unique in each of their psyches that layers their story, that gives extra weight to their performance. We can learn their lessons or appreciate their many dimensions.

There are a few different antihero tropes, but they all seem to relate to the interplay between humanity and corruption: the good-at-heart but stuck in a corrupt world; the good-once-upon-a-time but corrupted through greed or a quest for power; the satirical embodiment of a corrupt or malicious aspect of humanity. There is something in us that identifies with the antihero: with the feeling of trying to be a good person in a bad world. Is there some level of wish fulfillment as we watch them buck the system and stick it to the man? Is there some tragic identification as we watch them fail? Is there some horrified, looking-at-a-car-crash reaction to seeing the most base elements of our society personified? Really, the protagonist is the person in whose shoes we place ourselves. There’s something deeper and more satisfying about walking in the shoes of an antihero.

The more time passes, exact definition of “antihero” seems to widen, casting a larger and larger net of what we deem antithetical to the traditional hero. Perhaps that’s just postmodernism taking its toll. From the narrowest sense of the aforementioned Prince of Darkness, we’re at the point where even a character like Arthur “all I want is a cup of tea” Dent (Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy) could be considered an antihero. I guess it’s all in how you look at it. With that in mind, I’ve tried to limit this list to characters that are leading roles (or close to), and who seem to fit the more traditional sense of the title “Antihero.” Regardless of why we love the bad good guys, we can’t deny that we do. I mean, who do you like better, Luke Skywalker or Han Solo? Han Solo, of course, unless you’re under the age of eleven. Perhaps this proves something about developmental psychology, but let’s just leave it at that.

(WARNING: SOME SPOILERS)

10. Captain Jack Sparrow (Johnny Depp)
Pirates of the Caribbean trilogy (2003, 2006, 2007)

Not the traditional leading hero, (that honour would go to Orlando “Legolas” Bloom) Captain Jack is indeed the heart and soul of the Pirates movies, and you’ll be hard-pressed to find anyone who disagrees with you. Why else would Disney being flogging this dead horse with On Stranger Tides? Jack Sparrow, for all his debauchery, law-breaking, womanizing, drunkenness, and moral grey areas, is one of popular cinemas most endearing and lovable characters. Ever. His own crew can’t even be sure whether or not he is in fact a “good man” but they still sail to the afterlife to rescue him. And you can see him not once, but three whole times on the original ride at Disneyland. Rest assured, you have heard of him.

9. The Narrator/Tyler Durden (Edward Norton/Brad Pitt)
Fight Club (1999)

If you think these are two characters, you clearly didn’t watch the movie hard enough. In the relationship/conflict between the Narrator and Tyler Durden, we see the wonderful dichotomy between “good” guy and “bad” guy that exists in every antihero played out in the most literal sense. In the anarchy and violence espoused by Tyler Durden we see a dangerous violence void of humanity – made frightening by an extreme lack of regard for other people and no concern for the consequences. He is balanced by the Narrator, who questions Durden; who cannot escape his own morality despite his disillusionment with the world around him. The cognitive dissonance between the two personifications of this character pulls us in but frightens us: you identify with his disillusionment but fear his instability. At what point does a freedom fighter become a terrorist?

8. Patrick Bateman (Christian Bale)
American Psycho (2000)

An antihero in the most Miltonic sense, Bateman is an actual serial killer – but not even a killer with a misguided sense of morality like, say, Dexter Morgan. Bateman is remorseless and chilling. What makes a character like Patrick Bateman resonate so well, and prove so cultish, is the pure essence of everything he personifies. With the wonderful hindsight we now enjoy, what self-respecting individual these days is not repulsed by the ego-driven, Reagonomics, “greed is good” ethos of the 1980s? The antihero of Brett Easton Ellis’s novel (and Mary Harron’s film) should satisfy conservatives and liberals alike as he literally takes a sharp knife to everything yuppie.

7. Scarlett O’Hara (Vivien Leigh)
Gone With the Wind (1939)

Scarlett O’Hara has stood out for seventy years as one of the most interesting characters – female or not – Hollywood has ever produced. Charming, wealthy, resourceful but rich, spoiled, selfish and vain, Scarlett may have her family’s best interests at heart, but still she steals her sister’s man, and steps on many others in her pursuit of her goals. The fact that she stands as the sole woman on this list, argues three points: 1. The lack of good female roles in Hollywood, 2. Very few anti-heroes are women, and thus 3. Anti-heroes are indeed the most enduring characters.

6. Alex DeLarge (Malcolm McDowell)
A Clockwork Orange (1971)

Alex is really only one step shy of Patrick Bateman in terms of treachery, and that’s only really because his body count is lower. Let’s face it, Alex is only really an antihero because he’s the protagonist, but in essence, he’s just an out-and-out villain. Robbery, rape, Beethoven – just a usual day’s galavanting. He’s frightening in the same way Bateman is: he’s a psychopath. Remorseless and cruel, he finds sheer delight in torture and he knows full well just what a horrible human being he is. But what is it that about him that people connect with? Why do you always see at least one person dressed as Alex every Halloween? How do we feel sympathy for someone like this when he is cured of his violence? Is it the irony in the forced violence of the cure? Is there something about Alex – and this kind of antihero – that possesses a kind of freedom we can never have?

5. Travis Bickle (Robert DeNiro)
Taxi Driver (1976)

The tortured vigilante of Scorsese’s Palme D’Or winner presents an interesting moral dilemma, as most vigilantes not riding in a van with Mr. T tend to do. Bickle fits all the aforementioned tropes of an antihero: he feels he is trying to do good in a corrupt world; yet, he slowly becomes corrupted during his quest; and he is iconic of post-Vietnam disenchantment. His protection of a teenage prostitute is honourable…and his killing spree…? Well, that’s a little more ambiguous, isn’t it? Is it honourable because of Bickle’s rationalization of it, or is it a commentary on society that we can somehow find honour in murder?

4. Michael Corleone (Al Pacino)
The Godfather trilogy (1972, 1974, 1990)

There are very few falls from grace as iconic as Michael Corleone’s. Perhaps a very strong part of what makes The Godfather Part II such a compelling sequel (the only one ever to win the Oscar for Best Picture) is that we see Corleone fully transitioned from hero to antihero. Like the true slowly corrupted good guy, he becomes what he was so originally set against: an execution-ordering mafia don. From the kiss of death for his own brother to watching his daughter killed in front of his eyes, it’s pretty clear: crime doesn’t pay.

3. Beetlejuice (Michael Keaton)
Beetlejuice (1988)

I’ve always loved Michael Keaton. My childhood crush on Batman not withstanding, he’s always been an excellent character actor and Beetlejuice is the pinnacle of his career – there’s simply no more to it. I firmly believe that this character is the reason for Tim Burton’s career: it was the surprising success of Beetlejuice that gave Burton Batman and everything that followed. Beetlejuice is a little like Jack Sparrow, only you’re pretty sure he’s a bad dude. He frequents brothels, tries to marry an underage girl, and is generally tricksy and mischievous… and charming as hell, despite the creepy teeth. Say his name three times. Go on, I dare you.

2. Daniel Plainview (Daniel Day-Lewis)
There Will Be Blood (2007)

It’s going to be interesting to see how time handles Paul Thomas Anderson’s epic. Its literary quality far outstrips its potential for a cult following, but every character Daniel Day-Lewis touches proves iconic. Daniel Plainview is the essence of There Will Be Blood, and any lesser actor could not have brought the required charm, sensibility, or deep-seeded cold-hearted ambition together in a way that was anything but a retread of the classic ambition-leads-to-downfall story arch. Anderson and Day-Lewis create a character that so fantastically blends together a million different themes and methods that, rather than being hit over the head with moralising, you get a pure, instinctive sense of the many things a man like Plainview makes you feel: fear, disgust – yet acceptance. An antihero par excellance, Daniel Plainview works on so many levels. He is far more charming than Michael Corleone or Patrick Bateman, but it’s this charm that makes you simultaneously admire and despise him. You want to trust him so badly, but have that strange nagging that you shouldn’t. He is so wonderfully realized but we’re never entirely sure what makes him tick or why.

1. Charles Foster Kane (Orson Welles)
Citizen Kane (1941)

Not only did Welles’s masterpiece change the face of film for every other reason in the book, but it also presented us with one of the first truly great antiheroes. Modelled not-so-subtly on William Randolph Hearst, Citizen Kane follows the life of Charles Foster Kane from financially lacking child to billionaire a- -hole. We see his career pass from strident idealism to selfish greed; moving from kindness and compassion to cruelty and loneliness. His dying word of “Rosebud” frames the story, as we seek to understand its meaning over the course of his life. Kane’s professional ascent mirrors his personal descent, as we learn the golden truth: his dying thought was one of nostalgia and regret for his youth, as simple, loving, and poverty-stricken as it was. Titling his film “citizen” Kane, Welles seems to strike at that deepest chord of the antihero: it could be any one of us.

Honourable mentions: Rick Blaine (Humphrey Bogart, Casablanca, 1942), Harry Callahan (Clint Eastwood, Dirty Harry series, 1971, 1973, 1976, 1983, 1988), Han Solo (Harrison Ford, Star Wars trilogy, 1977, 1980, 1983)

My Top Ten: Animated Films

I watched The Triplets of Belleville for the first time a week or so ago, and, as expected, I was blown away. “That makes the top ten,” I instantly thought, which led me to consider what my top ten animated films actually would be. I had to think long and hard about this, and I intentionally tried to cut down on my Disney. Disney films usually are pretty good, but they’re just so… (to borrow a phrase from my roommate)… vanilla. 

First things – this list is by no means an attempt for a holistic, omnipotent judgment swung down on animated films everywhere, this is simply the top ten animated films as chosen quite subjectively by me. There are gaps in my cinematic experience (i.e. I’ve yet to see Waltz with Bashir, and my knowledge of Japanese animated classics is regretfully limited). 

With that said, this list is skewed towards animated films as best enjoyed by the grown-up audience, that myself, a twenty-something, can enjoy without needing to pry out that Freudian inner child. With that said, maybe I am rather childlike to begin with, as I love a good poop joke. 

10. A Scanner Darkly (2006)

I remember watching Waking Life awhile ago, and, while impressed with the technical and artistic achievements of the animation, it was distracting. While animation does leave so much room for artistic showing off, when it distracts from the story, characters and dialogue, it’s hard to emotionally commit. Luckily, Waking Life was a trial run for this film, and Richard Linklater seems to have learned this lesson. The style services the story and character (with Robert Downey Jr. giving perhaps my favourite performace of  his career). The visuals are impressive, if slightly awkward and alienating, which is really the point of it all. You can see Keanu Reeves, but you can’t connect with him fully; it’s scraping fitfully to pull itself out of the Uncanny Valley but not quite escaping it. The emotional distance is appropriate – like an elliptical orbit, at times you can connect and at times you can’t. But it works. Those moments when you do connect are all the more powerful because of the distance. Life lesson learned.

9. An American Tail (1986)

So much of my love for this movie harkens back to childhood nostalgia, and fond memories of the giant banana slide at Universal Studios theme park. Watching the film now, it’s intriguing to see the wonderful levels of culture embedded (or zealously shellacked) across this film. A classic retelling of the “streets are paved with gold” motif (in this case, the streets of New York are paved with cheese), the American Dream ideology is perpetuated of course, but there’s something remarkable – and Art Spiegelman-ish – about the fact that the protagonist is a Jewish-Russian mouse. If Disney is vanilla, this film is Spumoni (vanilla, chocolate and pistachio). 

8. Shrek 2 (2004)

I have never laughed so hard at an animated movie – or any movie – as I did seeing Shrek 2 for the first time. A rare sequel that trumps the original, this CG film was the closest anyone ever got to giving Pixar a run for their money. With just the right postmodern mix of timeless fairy tales and 21st century pop culture, and each character fantastic and memorable in their own wonderful way (my personal favourite being Jennifer Saunders as the Fairy Godmother, even though Antonio Banderas’s Puss in Boots deserved all the credit he got), the Shrek franchise never wore out its welcome… that is, until Shrek the Third. 

7. Robin Hood (1973)

Time Out agrees with me on this one. In junior high, when one of my friends drunkenly admitted to me that she – beyond all comprehension – used to have a crush on Disney’s heroic outlaw when she was a kid, I felt all kinds of relieved to know that I wasn’t the only one. Can you blame us? He’s fox-y…. (ba-dum, chiss! Sorry.) This film combines the best of what makes Disney marketable popular: dashing hero, unplussed heroine, heartfelt narration, a weepy song (“Not in Nottingham”), firm moral lesson about helping the poor, cute poverty-stricken child with a lisp, a hilarious villain (he’s a lion who sucks his thumb and whines for his mother! Brilliant!) and his even better sidekick, Sir Hiss, and an impromptou American football game in the middle of medieval England. Again, it’s Disney.

6. The Halloween Tree (1993)

I’m pretty sure this was only ever on TV, and I had to search the depths of e-Bay to find a copy for my sister (on VHS no less). It’s a clunky but charming Cartoon Network gem that combines Leonard Nimoy with Ray Bradbury and cooks up a fun adventure through time and space to learn the truth about Halloween. It’s also genuinely scary. Four friends are on a quest to the save the soul (not just the life – the soul) of their best friend, while accompanied by a creepy-as-f*ck old man who may or may not be Satan. Hm. Good times. Wild anachronisms, historical inaccuracies, and cultural assimilation aside, it’s better than thinking the best of Halloween is the latest in the Saw franchise. In essence, though, while journeying across time and place exploring the rituals and festivities of different cultures’ associations with death, we get a handy “we are the world” life lesson: Everyone is scared sh*tless of death.

5. The Triplets of Belleville (2003)

What else can I say? The DVD I watched of this didn’t have English subtitles, but that – and my high school French – was utterly irrelevant. This film showcases everything that is sublime about the contemporary French aesthetic; competing and complimentary senses of melancholy and whimsy in the sombre-yet-brilliant colour palette,  the unique-but-not-alienating character designs, the subtle moments of humour – from the dog chasing its tail to the grandmother’s thick orthotic shoe, and not to mention the catchiest song I’ve heard in far, far too long. I loved that the protagonist was a subdued-but-determined little old lady, aided along the way by three other – yet, far weirder – old ladies. Watch as they take on the mob and win. It’s epic!

4. Persepolis (2007)

I first caught this film at the Whistler Film Festival a couple of years ago, and loved it even then. The graphic memoirs of Marjane Satrapi had long been favourites of mine, and I was so pleased with this adaptation – which Satrapi herself co-directed. The events of the Islamic Revolution colour Marjane’s life, but they do not define it: she is a product of her country, but an individual nonetheless. The monochromatic animation really does look like the book come to life – and despite (or even due to) the hand-drawn quality, this coming of age tale is far more honestly rendered than any live-action production could have been.

3. Who Framed Roger Rabbit? (1988)

Okay, so this is obviously not entirely animated, but this is a brilliant interlacing between the darkness of the classic film noir detective story and the lightness of the screwball animated comedy short. This film was likely to be any child of the eighties’ introduction to both film noir and the “behind-the-scenes in the golden age of Hollywood” micro-genre. Looking back now, it was a clever commentary – dare I say “deconstruction” – of the familiar Hollywood “types”. By blowing these types up into the caricatures of Jessica “I’m not bad, I’m just drawn that way” Rabbit et al, we’re able to see just what kinds of roles we cast each other in as well.

2. The Nightmare Before Christmas (1993)

There’s something sad about walking past a Disney store and seeing reams of Jack Skellington merchandise in the windows. Honestly, though, can you think of any other film that you watch festively for both Halloween and Christmas? Not actually directed by Tim Burton (but Henry Selick) - but forever associated with him – it bears his neo-Goth familiarities. With its classic conventions of vintage horror, from evil scientists to severed heads, Nightmare presents us with the nostalgic Halloween tropes of our youth. The neatly compartmentalised Halloween Town, and all the other holidays living in their own worlds, reminds me of the way that, as a child, you fictionalize what you know of the world to bring some kind of sense to the senseless traditions. Watching this film now, when Jack breaks into the “real world” masquerading as Santa Claus, it feels like the happy memories of one’s childhood rearing back on you. It’s scary, and sadly beautiful. You want to cry for Jack as his sleigh is shot down and those memories of childhood fade away.

1. Toy Story (1995)

Toy Story earned John Lasseter an honourary Oscar the same year it was released. That sort of clinches its legacy right there, doesn’t it? Without Toy Story, there would be no Wall-E, no The Incredibles, no Finding Nemo. I still find Toy Story tops them all. It’s brilliance lies not just in its animation, but in its story. It single-handedly ended the reign of the princess-and-dragon era of Disney films. Its sequel is almost on par, and has many great additions, like Jessie the cowgirl, and Al’s Toy Barn, but the original has what makes it a classic: the timeless banter-turned-bromance between Woody and Buzz. The heart-breaking moment when the duo find themselves abandoned at the gas station, and Woody’s terrified gasp: “I”m lost!” In that moment, you really understand what’s on the line. Buzz’s realization that he is in fact a toy is even more heart-breaking - and frighteningly relatable, like that moment in your childhood when you realized you probably weren’t going to grow up to be Prime Minister or play in the NHL. As Lasseter pulls back we see Buzz at the top of the stairs – indeed not a muscly, heroic space ranger, but a tiny little toy. It’s a masterpiece.

The Informant! (2009)

You know that you’re into something good the moment the opening credits rolls and they are wonderfully Retro (capital ‘R’). You know the kind of font: a bubbly, yellow cheeriness that instantly hearkens visions of vintage concert handbills, bell-bottoms, and all the inherent comedy that comes with. Whether or not you consider 1992 (the film’s setting) to be considered “Retro” fully depends on whether or not you were born before the Internet. Regardless, the tone is set instantly. A faux-serious sense of urgency; an ambivalent waering between uneasiness and quirk; complete self-reflexivity. This film knows exactly what it is and plays it to the hilt. It’s all in the title, with its tongue-in-cheek melodramatic exclamation. Everything else is a brilliant follow-up, including Matt Damon’s resemblance to an overweight Ned Flanders.

Damon has gotten a lot of press for the thirty pounds he’s put on for this role, but it is necessary. It’s with so much more than looks alone that Damon escapes the trap of his previous roles – you never feel that you’re watching Jason Bourne do comedy. Mark Whitacre (Damon), biochemist-turned-upper management for an über-corporation, is easily one of the most complex characters Damon has played. Naïve with delusions of grandeur, he finds himself an FBI informant helping uncover an industry-wide price-fixing scheme. Or as you would except Whitacre to describe himself: a super spy working to bring down the villainous perpetrators of white collar crime. Sample dialogue: “Why are you 0014?” “Because I’m twice as smart as 007!”

The basic premise of The Informant! bears similarity to such films as Catch Me If You Can, but where the main appeal of those films is the utter amazement you feel at watching the spies and the con artists actually pulling off their caveats,The Informant! draws its appeal from Mark Whitacre. It feels as if everything else—plot, characters, set pieces—is just there to service Damon’s performance. Not that he needs any help. It’s rare that an actor can command a film in such a manner when his character looks like the father of every kid I went to elementary school with. You both pity and admire him. Is he bipolar or just ignorant? Do you respect him? That’s hard to say. Regardless, it’s intriguing and hilarious. It’s as if you don’t even notice his epic moustache and Dwight Schrute glasses. As he narrates the film, it’s difficult to even say whether or not you’d consider him a reliable narrator. His narration is a series of brilliantly funny non-sequitors that you could find on any random blog and would spend the better part of your lunch hour reading.

So director Steven Soderbergh has found a perfect tone and a perfect lead. Thankfully he takes this and runs with it. The supporting cast fit like a well-executed jigsaw puzzle, with standouts being Two and a Half Men’s Melanie Lynskey as Whitacre’s wife, Ginger, (perfect name, isn’t it?) and Scott Bakula as FBI Special Agent Brian Shepard, who brings with equal weight the straight man and the camp value. Star Trek (Enterprise) + Quantum Leap = Automatic Camp Value.

As Whitacre’s work with the FBI draws to a close, and his lies start to unfold, the film actually does drag a little. But this miscalculated pacing is easily forgiven as Soderbergh throws us a few more chuckles by way of a few running jokes, Whitacre’s continued delusion that he will somehow get a promotion after bringing down the company, an appearance by Arrested Development’s Tony Hale (who I always enjoy), and, if that’s not enough, Matt Damon with a bald head and beer belly. If you can’t appreciate that, then perhaps The Informant! is not for you, but I imagine it would be hard not to grin the whole way through a film that knows itself as well as this one.

originally published at pressplus1.com

The Marx Brothers Photo-Op

The Marx Brothers were arguably (and in my opinion) the funniest comedy group to ever appear on a film screen. In a career spanning the better parts (not the depressing parts) of the 20s, 30s, and 40s, they made thirteen films. Actual brothers (natch!), hailing from New York, they got their start on the vaudeville stage before being captured in celluloid. Their first two films, The Cocoanuts and Animal Crackers, lived previous incarnations as stage productions. 

The Marx family circa 1913 (left to right: Groucho, Gummo, Minnie (mother), Zeppo, Frency (father), Chico, and Harpo)

There were five brothers, from oldest to youngest: Leonard (Chico), Adolph (changed to Arthur in 1911) (Harpo), Julius Henry (Groucho), Milton (Gummo), and Herbert (Zeppo). In their film career, Gummo never appeared onscreen, and Zeppo only appeared in five films with his older brothers before leaving acting to become their theatrical agent. Apparently there was no room for dead wood.

Chico Marx: "I wasn't kissing her! I was whispering in her mouth."

Chico got his nickname from his reputation as a ladies man, and was known for his fake Italian accent. This was always used to comedic effect, in such “lost in translation” moments as the Sanity Clause line in Night at the Opera. Chico also played the piano, and many of their films have a sequence where Chico gets a chance to show off.

Harpo Marx: Got a problem? Talk to the horn.

Harpo Marx got his nickname from the fact that he played the harp (duh), a talent which makes it into most of their films. He performed as a mime, made hilarious use of various props and physical humour, and wore a brightly coloured fright wig (and this was decades before Carrot Top was even born… or hatched).

Groucho Marx: "I don't care to belong to a club that will have me as a member."

There are competing theories as to where Groucho got his stage name, including his grouchy temperament, being named for a character in the Knocko the Monk comic strip, or in reference to his frugality in carrying all his money in a grouch bag around his neck. Groucho himself even admitted, “My own name, of course, I never did understand.” His stage persona had the famous glasses, greasepaint moustache and eyebrows, giant cigar, classic baggy suit, and the ambling gait. He is the Marx brother with the most successful solo career, going on to star in several other films, and to host the show You Bet Your Life from the late 40s into the early 60s. He is freaking hilarious. Google some of his quotes. Go on. Laugh til you pee.

The Four Marx Brothers in Duck Soup (l-r Chico, Zeppo, Groucho, Harpo). You can tell they put Zeppo in a ripped muscly tank top just to feel there was some reason for him to be there.

 Zeppo was usually just the straight man character, hence the running joke of referring to the sore thumb of your social network as the Zeppo of the group. Strange, since Zeppo was generally considered the funniest brother off-stage.

Monkey Business... not just the title of the film.

The third film, Monkey Business, is the only film where Harpo’s voice is heard. He sings from inside one of these barrells in the opening of the film.

If you think this looks slashy, just remember, they really were biological brothers.

The Marx Brothers did their first five films with Paramount before moving to MGM, where they worked wonderfully with producer Irving Thalberg. When Thalberg died in 1936, they produced Room Service (1938) with RKO, before announcing their retirement in 1941. They made two final films with United Artists, A Night in Casablanca (1946) and Love Happy (1949) (with Marilyn Monroe, a handy FYI for when you play Six Degrees with your friends) in order to help Chico pay off his gambling debts. 

Duck Soup: Who is whom? I bet they don't even know.

Despite their stage personas, the brothers actually looked quite similar, with this being the entire point of the famous mirror scene in Duck Soup (1933). 

Margaret Dumont (with Groucho), the fifth Marx Brother... er, sister?

Actress Margaret Dumont appeared in seven Marx Brothers films. Her character was a rich, widowed socialite, romanced by Groucho for her money.  She was oblivious to the many insults he hurled her way, even though I always suspected he secretly loved her. It’s bizarre to imagine that they had any kind of sexual/romantic chemistry, but damn it was there. In a hilarious kind of way. 

Aw shucks.

Filmography:

The Four Marx Brothers (Chico, Harpo, Groucho and Zeppo) feature films:

The Cocoanuts (1929)

Animal Crackers (1930)

Monkey Business (1931)

Horse Feathers (1932)

Duck Soup (1933)

The Marx Brothers (minus Zeppo):

A Night at the Opera (1935)

A Day at the Races (1937)

Room Service (1938)

At the Circus (1939)

Go West (1940)

The Big Store (1941)

A Night in Casablanca (1946)

Love Happy (1949)

Animal Crackers - my favourite photograph.

Film Fonts Dos and Don’ts

Sometimes I see a film where I wonder if there was anyone that film passed through in the journey from set to screening that had even the most remote knowledge of typography. If you’re going through the pain and torture of creating a film (I know that pain and torture, I make films myself), it’s not that much more difficult to dedicate a little extra effort to the credits. Simply inserting whatever font in Final Cut works is really just half-assing it. Let’s be honest. So, yes, I can be a bit of a typography geek, but there really are some basic typographical rules that one should adhere to:

1. Avoid fonts that any person with a basic knowledge of Microsoft Word can name: Courier, Arial, Times Roman, several others, and of course, Comic Sans. The use of Comic Sans in film credits is kind of like capital punishment in the mind of a liberal: acceptable under no circumstances, ever. Ever. Helvetica presents a mixed bag. Some love it, some hate it. There’s even a documentary to that effect. I, personally, can’t see it without thinking of Douglas Coupland. Without recapitulating the utter horror of Comic Sans (there is even an entire website devoted to its banishment), the simple reason not to use these fonts is that they undermine any credibility you were hoping to achieve. It’s a similar experience to when I was watching Battlestar Galactica and recognized the market in Caprica City as the main courtyard of my university. If you see a font and think “Hm, Papyrus,” it instantly snaps your belief that was already suspended so thinly. It’s like a seeing a boom mike hanging from the ceiling. It breaks the verisimilitude (*gasp* there’s that word again!). The only situation in which you would want to use one of these fonts is if this reaction is exactly what you are going for; if you are aiming for that golden bough of irony, passing off an in-joke,or  smothering yourself in self-reflexivity. Even then, Comic Sans is still, never, ever, ever acceptable. Even as a punishment for high treason.

2. Avoid handwriting fonts, or even handwritten credits unless you’re okay with your film garnering the  label “Hipster Wet Dream”: In the not-so-distant past, handwritten credits were acceptable, quirky even. Cute. Then, along came a film which ruined it for everyone. I’m speaking, of course, about Juno. Personally, I liked Juno, but then I saw it way back when it was only playing in one art house theatre, before the Oscar hype, before the inevitable backlash. (I liked Slumdog Millionaire, too.) The thing I didn’t really like about Juno was the opening credits. I thought they were rather pretentious and totally unnecessary; as if Jason Reitman had a friend who had been bugging him for years, “Can me animate some credits? Please, please, PLEASE?!” until Reitman finally gave in just for the sake of peace. Not to say that only Juno is to blame, but now any handwritten credits instantly scream “HIPSTER! LALALA LOOK AT ME, I’M SO EDGY AND COOL!” It’s a shame, because there are instances when handwritten credits really work well; when they aren’t pretentious, but are sweet and… *ahem* wild. I’m thinking, of course, of Where the Wild Things Are. In Spike Jonze’s latest (and, I think, his masterpiece), the handwritten credits work because they are used so sparingly. They are of the subtle type, rather than the bright day-glo variety . They underscore Max’s childlike subversiveness. They connect the audience to both the innocence and the wildness of childhood without slapping you across the face with the typographical equivalent of a giant fish. 

3. Keep it Simple: Always a golden rule. Now, this is a generalization, but the point of opening credits is to transmit information without distracting the audience from everything else that is happening on screen, and the point of closing credits is to provide all the legally necessary information without somehow ruining everything everyone has just seen. If you’re going to get fancy with the opening credits, there better be a damned good reason. I think immediately of the short film, Boxed In, where the Very Important People credits are in that could-be-cheesy style of “hey! the credits are ACTUALLY WRITTEN ON THE PROPS!” In Kial Natale’s short, this works wonderfully because it is so perfectly in keeping with the tone of the film. In fact, it actually helps to establish it. Another brilliant example: Zombieland. With a film like this, an opening credits stance of “cheeseball chic” really works. If the credits can’t help establish tone or mood, keep them so I barely notice they’re there. As for closing credits, simplicity is even more important. Serif fonts are okay, but I don’t want feel like I’m analyzing artwork rather than processsing information. Every credit should not look like a logo. Please, no calligraphy. 

4. Respect intertextuality: People who see movies usually see a lot of them. They are familiar with general touchstones of popular culture. You’re going to have to be aware of any fonts you use that are used elsewhere. People don’t always notice fonts explicitly, but they sure as hell notice them subconsciously. If you go around throwing Impact in all your films, people are going to associate you with Lolcats, even though they probably won’t realize why. Of course, if your intention is to draw this comparison, then all the power to you. Just so long as you know. The Informant! used intertextuality in its credit fonts with pitch-perfect resolve. The opening credits in their yellow bubbliness slyly stuck their tongue into their cheek, remarking with a wink, “I know exactly what I’m doing here. Trust me.” You sigh comfortably, knowing that Steven Soderbergh is safely steering the ship, and sit back to enjoy the cruise. 

Typography is an art, but one of those subtle arts that has been dragged kicking and screaming into the contemporary, post-modern era where it has a chance to sink or swim. While even an eight-year-old could pick Arial out of a line-up, there’s enough evidence to suggest that apparently there really is a knack to using typography effectively. Take note. Learn it, love it. And never use Comic Sans. Ever.