Tag Archives: 1995

IT CAME FROM THE READER-SUGGESTED QUEUE: FUNNY BONES (1995)

366 Weird Movies may earn commissions from purchases made through product links.

DIRECTED BY: Peter Chelsom

FEATURING: Oliver Platt, Lee Evans, , ,

PLOT: When the son of a legendary comedian bombs in his Vegas debut, he retrenches by returning his boyhood home in the faded resort town of Blackpool in search of material that he can pinch to re-tool his act.

Still from Funny Bones (1995)

COMMENTS: Among the many lessons we’ve learned throughout film’s existence , one that recurs consistently, is that comedians are the saddest bastards around. Mainstream moviemakers have never tired of reminding us that every joke-teller is merely a modern-day Pagliacci pleading with their therapist for release from the misery. Funny Bones finds an even sadder level: the comic who isn’t funny. Can you imagine such a predicament? Here you are with the pedigree, the material, the opportunity, and the moment the spotlight hits you, you die on the vine. Sheesh, even Pagliacci could get his act together come performance time.

This is the fate of painfully unsuccessful Tommy Fawkes (Platt), who doesn’t seem to know what funny actually is but knows for certain that he’s not it. His journey to understanding or acceptance or even surrender could be the foundation for another depressed-comedian narrative, but writer/director Chelsom has more he wants to explore: the ramifications of infidelity, the unforgivable crime of joke theft, the nature of Blackpool as a dying resort for acts of questionable merit, and even a crime thriller about the theft of valuable treasures from a group of French gangsters. When the film introduces a Chinese powder with the power of youthful regeneration, you may earnestly wonder if it’s about to take a hard left turn into science fiction. Funny Bones is impressively patient with the many storylines it wants to explore, but that also means nothing takes priority, so the “B” plots and “C” plots occupy as much screentime as the ostensible central story. It’s an approach that may work well for a television season, but less so for a two-hour feature.

Part of what makes Funny Bones such a peculiar watch is trying to decipher how it actually feels about comedy. On the one hand there’s Tommy, who has absolutely the wrong act for a featured spot in Vegas, but who tries to rectify the situation by auditioning a series of “Britain’s Got Talent” rejects. Jack, who we are expected to believe was utterly devastated by an incident with an overly aggressive scene partner and is allegedly so broken as to be almost unable to communicate, is his polar opposite (Jack’s first appearance is on a dangerous perch atop Blackpool Tower, where the community leaders think he might be a risk to himself.) Nevertheless, we see him excel in multiple forms of performance; he has a quick wit (when asked if he has lived in Blackpool all his life, he responds, “Not yet”), he delivers a wild lip-sync routine, and finishes with circus acrobatics. There’s a hint that Jack’s approach to humor is pure, a notion either affirmed or contradicted by the casting of Jerry Lewis as a physical comedian who hits it big as a joke-teller. In any case, Tommy’s supposed to learn something at the end of all this, and the movie may not have a clear sense of what that lesson ought to be. He has spent the film confidently predicting his own demise, both onstage and in real life. The film suggests he is wrong, but exactly why is not at all clear.

Funny Bones revels in its English-ness, from the idealization of the penny-ante human tricks that make up the Blackpool entertainment scene to the extremely low-key reactions to even the most monumental events. A heist from a mortuary delineates the difference between the English and American responses. (I also have to call out the sheer audacity of casting both British film stalwarts Richard Griffiths and Ian McNiece, actors whom I have spent far too much time mistaking for one another.) It is a curious little drama played out on the field of comedy. I actually respect the variety of interesting people the film introduces, and the Trojan Horse-tactic of sneaking a look at a lost way of life through the door by way of a big, brassy American character study. I just don’t think it works. Most comedians would tell you that the further away you go from your premise, the harder the punchline will hit when you bring it all back. Funny Bones, however, just keeps winding away, going wherever it will, but not really getting anywhere in particular.

WHAT THE CRITICS SAY:

“…it plays like a production that was, at one point, granted complete creative freedom to pursue any bit of whimsy and grotesquerie it wanted to find. The final cut is a collision of tones and ideas, but it remains distinct in its intent to be unpredictable and oddly sincere, hunting for the meaning of family and emotional stability in the mine field of professional comedy…Daddy issues are vivid in ‘Funny Bones,’ but they’re soon eclipsed by the weirdness of Blackpool…” – Brian Orndorf, Blu-ray.com

(This movie was nominated for review by Jonathan Allen. Suggest a weird movie of your own here.)         

Funny Bones

    New starting from: 25.00 $

    Go to Amazon

    IT CAME FROM THE READER-SUGGESTED QUEUE: THEODORE REX (1995)

    Beware

    366 Weird Movies may earn commissions from purchases made through product links.

    DIRECTED BY: Jonathan Betuel

    FEATURING: Whoopi Goldberg, Armin Mueller-Stahl, Juliet Landau, Bud Cort, Stephen McHattie, voice of George Newbern

    PLOT: A cybernetically enhanced cop and a genetically restored dinosaur are paired up to solve a murder, but their investigation uncovers a larger plot to destroy humankind and bring about a new ice age.

    Still from Theordore Rex (1995)

    COMMENTS: Once upon a time, the high concept of a cop paired with another, weirder cop had been efficiently reduced to its purest form by including the signifier “Heat” in the title. There was a run of movies with titles like Red Heat (cop is paired with another cop who is from the Soviet Union), Dead Heat (cop is paired with another cop who is deceased), and very nearly Outer Heat (cop is paired with another cop who is an alien) until some studio executive realized that “Heat” wasn’t moving any tickets and switched the name to Alien Nation. That one word did all the work of summing up the premise while warning savvy filmgoers to avoid it at all cost. What I’m saying is, the producers of Theodore Rex had Jurassic Heat sitting there, ready to go, and they passed. Cowards. It wouldn’t have helped the movie, mind you. It just would have saved us all a lot of time.

    A mostly forgotten bomb today, if Theodore Rex has any reputation at all, it’s either as the most expensive film of its time to be released direct-to-video or as the movie that Whoopi Goldberg only agreed to appear in after the producers sued her for trying to bail on the project. This is unfair, because Theodore Rex ought to be remembered as terrible on its own merits. It’s always a delight to find a diamond in the rough, a gem that the masses were too closed-minded to appreciate, but sometimes the masses are right, and a bad movie gets the public raspberry it deserves. 

    The premise is so aggressively high concept that its overall illogic barely qualifies as an afterthought. You have to take a lot on faith from the outset: dinosaurs have been resurrected via hand-wavey DNA science as human-sized, English-speaking, long-armed, ghettoized cartoonish weirdos. (They are all animatronic caricatures, bumpkin cousins to the stars of the sitcom “Dinosaurs.”) The city is a Dick Tracy-style candy-colored series of backlot alleys. Whoopi Goldberg wears a skintight Lycra catsuit. If you can accept all of these ideas into your heart, then you’ve achieved the bare minimum of scrutability to get you into the plot. 

    About that plot. It’s already a shopworn premise — initial crime leads to bigger conspiracy — that is drained of all suspense by the inexplicable decision to reveal the identity of the villain and his elaborate scheme in the opening narration. Aside from killing the little bit of mystery the film might have, it forces the story to become a character study of two completely empty shells: Goldberg’s cop, who is so devoid of personality that she plays both by-the-book and screw-the-rules without any seeming contradiction, and Teddy the dinosaur, who combines an endless display of neuroses with the vibe Continue reading IT CAME FROM THE READER-SUGGESTED QUEUE: THEODORE REX (1995)

    IT CAME FROM THE READER-SUGGESTED QUEUE: FOUR ROOMS (1995)

    366 Weird Movies may earn commissions from purchases made through product links.

    DIRECTED BY: Alison Anders, Alexandre Rockwell, Robert Rodriguez, Quentin Tarantino

    FEATURING: Tim Roth, , Valeria Golino, Madonna, Ione Skye, Lili Taylor, , , David Proval, Antonio Banderas, Tamlyn Tomita, Lana McKissack, Danny Verduzco, Kathy Griffin, Marisa Tomei, Paul Calderón, Quentin Tarantino, Bruce Willis

    PLOT: On a particularly crazy New Year’s Eve at a rundown Hollywood hotel, a harried bellman’s first night on the job is highlighted by the wild goings-on in the various guestrooms, including a coven of witches, a dysfunctional married couple, a pair of disorderly children, and a film director’s sadistic game of chance. 

    COMMENTS: Every now and then, someone gets the bright idea to assemble an anthology film, bringing together a unique roster of top-flight directing talent. They’re almost never a success, financially or critically, but they keep coming back, and every age gets their turn. In the mid-90s, it was time for the young guns of the new Hollywood to join forces for a project set in a crazy hotel, and Four Rooms is the result.

    All four filmmakers were coming off big successes, and while few people would ever look for common ground between, say, Gas Food Lodging and Desperado, it’s not completely impossible that the common setting and diverse storytelling styles could combine to make for an interesting melange. Unfortunately, all four seem to have settled on “unbridled chaos” as a guiding principle for their segments. It’s comedy by way of breathlessness, which is typically more exhausting than amusing. In addition, they’re counting on Tim Roth to be a unifying element, providing his own brand of untethered mania. Alas, they don’t seem to have checked in with each other on how they were using Roth, which means we really get four (and arguably five or six) different versions of Ted the Bellboy, a character developed via exquisite corpse.

    The first story, Anders’ “The Missing Ingredient,” is a joke with no punchline. A collection of witches, ranging from glamour queen Madonna to crunchy granola Taylor, have gathered in the Hotel’s honeymoon suite to resurrect one of their sisterhood, lost to a curse years ago. By turning the whirlpool tub into a cauldron and adding such items as blood and sweat, they can restore her, but the only thing missing is naive babe-in-the-woods Skye’s assigned contribution: semen. The solution? Seduce the bellboy. And this is exactly what happens. Roth goes full-on Hugh Grant here, stammering and sputtering his way through Skye’s come-ons. He poses exactly no obstacle to the Continue reading IT CAME FROM THE READER-SUGGESTED QUEUE: FOUR ROOMS (1995)

    IT CAME FROM THE READER-SUGGESTED QUEUE: “THE END OF THE WORLD IN FOUR SEASONS” (1995) AND THE CANADIAN FILMS OF PAUL DRIESSEN

    DIRECTED BY: Paul Driessen

    PLOT: In “The End of the World in Four Seasons” small, repeating vignettes of life in each season play out in eight separate-but-interconnected frames; each ends with some sort of destruction, but by winter, all the settings are wiped out.

    Still from The End of the World in Four Seasons" (1995)

    COMMENTS: Paul Driessen first appears in the weird movie connoisseur’s consciousness as a hired hand; the Dutchman was enlisted to storyboard and animate on Yellow Submarine. But rather than trying to move up the ladder to features, he has resolutely stuck with his self-created shorts, establishing a personal style and inspiring plenty of others. Two movies created by Driessen’s students have won Academy Awards, while his own “The Killing of an Egg” allegedly inspired marine biologist Stephen Hillenburg to try his hand at animation. (Hillenburg would go on to create the cartoon juggernaut SpongeBob SquarePants.) 

    In the early 1970s, the fabled patron of animation the National Film Board of Canada enlisted Driessen to come and work on the other side of the Atlantic, resulting in a series of unusual and subversive works. Six of these shorts were collected in an anthology entitled “Des histoires pas comme les autres” (“Stories Unlike Any Others”), and while we’re focused on one of those today, a quick glance at the full set can be instructive in assessing Driessen’s style and development.

    Consider “Air” (1972), which presents multiple relationships with the title subject in less than two minutes. Flowers, fish, birds, and finally a being who seems to be in sheer terror of clouds all struggle to take in enough air to breathe. Of note is Driessen’s facility with the line, which does most of the work to define the space, transforming from the earthen bed of the flowers to the still surface of the sea in the space of a breath.

    Cat’s Cradle”(1974) goes deeper into the idea of transformations, with objects consistently scaling up and shifting from predator to prey. The design here hearkens back to Yellow Submarine with its large, toothy creatures and optical illusions. The French title, “Au bout du fil,” is also a hidden commentary; it means “on the line”, which of course is Driessen’s whole M.O.

    In 1975’s “An Old Box”, we get our first look at Driessen’s fondness for simultaneous narratives, as the title object unfolds and refolds itself to reveal changing tableaux on its sides. We also get some of his dark whimsy, such as a garbage truck that licks its lips after gulping down a healthy chunk of refuse.

    So now we come to “The End of the World in Four Seasons,” which indulges Driessen’s penchant for minimal animation by making it minuscule. The screen is populated with eight tiny screens, each of which displays its own tiny repeating vignette, sometimes connecting across the gaps. The film cleverly demands repeat viewings to take in everything that’s going on. (With a new set for each season, there are about 30 stories to take in.) Driessen also demonstrates a slapstick master’s gift for stretching out a joke as far as it can reach; for example, a skier hurtles incessantly downhill for nearly three minutes until Driessen suddenly moves his camera and the athlete slams into the side of the frame. But that cleverness points to the biggest shortcoming of “The End of the World”: it’s not much more than its joke. Actions repeat until they don’t, creatures behave grotesquely until they meet grotesque fates themselves. The shifting of the seasons changes the milieu but not the method. And crucially, the film has no real point it wants to get across. The end of each world–by fire or by crumbling–isn’t instigated by the actions or behaviors of the characters within them. It’s just time to move on. Of all the movies in the Canadian collection, “The End of the World” is the most ambitious in its technique, but surprisingly empty when it comes to generating any sense of Driessen’s feelings about his creations.

    This is decidedly not a problem in the next work, a movie Driessen would later call his favorite.  2000’s “The Boy Who Saw the Iceberg” is the Walter Mitty-like tale of a boy who dreams of a more interesting life. The twinned layout has fun juxtaposing fantasy against reality, right up until the moment when reality becomes far more intense. It owes a lot to the narratives of “An Old Box” and “The End of the World” with the way attention gently shifts between two competing storylines, but is far more mature in its content and tone. The gimmick is simpler, but allows for more focus on the details that lead to the haunting outcome.

    The most recent film in the collection, 2003’s “2D or Not 2D”, begins in a rush of color and movement that looks positively decadent compared to his previous films, but hinges on the discovery of a bizarre two-dimensional barrier which feels solid and impenetrable until the camera pivots slightly along the z-axis, turning the barrier into doorways, trees, or even one of the protagonists. In other words, Driessen has come back to the line, only now it has far more depth and nuance.

    All told, the collection of Driessen’s output for his Canadian producers provides an excellent snapshot of the filmmaker’s styles and mindsets. While “The End of the World” does capture him at his most adventurous, it also helps define the arc of  his career, marking the moment when mastery of technique became a means more than an end.

    WHAT THE CRITICS SAY:

    “This is a bizarre cartoon…  I found this cartoon to be weird, slightly disturbing, and not entertaining in the least. But hey, I’m not complaining that they included it. The more the merrier.” – David Blair, DVD Talk (from a review of the IMAX feature Seasons, which includes “The End of the World in Four Seasons” as a DVD extra)

    (This movie was nominated for review by Steven. Suggest a weird movie of your own here.)

    37*. TEENAGE TUPELO (1995)

    366 Weird Movies may earn commissions from purchases made through product links.

    “Everything Revealed! Nothing Explained!”–tagline for Teenage Tupelo

    Recommended

    DIRECTED BY:

    FEATURING: D’Lana Tunnell, Hugh Brooks, Wanda Wilson

    PLOT: Voluptuous D’Lana Fargo is knocked up by local Tupelo singer Johnny Tu-Note. Her mother sets up an adoption, and Johnny wants her to get rid of the baby. D’Lana falls in with a group of “Man Haters” who are fans of stripper/sexploitation filmmaker Topsy Turvy, who is the spitting image of D’Lana.

    Still from Teenage Tupelo (1995)

    BACKGROUND:

    • Teenage Tupelo was the first (and only) original production released by Something Weird video. It was released directly to VHS but never made the transition to DVD, going out of print and becoming unavailable for decades.
    • Produced by legendary exploitationeer David Friedman, a longtime collaborator of who also produced such oddities as The Acid Eaters (1968) and Ilsa, She Wolf of the S.S. (1975).
    • The film was shot on Super-8 for $12,000.
    • McCarthy’s adoptive parents appear as extras in the diner; their younger alter-egos are played by actors.

    INDELIBLE IMAGE: Almost certainly, you will remember the birth-of-a-baby scene (borrowed from the 1948 roadshow shocker Because of Eve). Even if you’ve seen a live birth before, it’s still shocking to see this sight casually shuffled into a narrative film context—and, accompanied by a tinkly music box rendition of “Frère Jacques,” it comes across as decidedly unwholesome. Viewer beware!

    TWO WEIRD THINGS: Battered Johnny Tu-Note serenades vixen; chainsaw devil tattooist

    WHAT MAKES IT WEIRD: Teenage Tupelo plays like director McCarthy took Something Weird Video’s entire vintage VHS catalog, ran it through a woodchipper, and used the resulting pulp to sculpt his own phantasmagorical autobiography. It’s utterly unique, history’s first postmodern grindhouse film.

    Trailer for the soundtrack release of Teenage Tupelo

    COMMENTS: Not too many exploitation films open with an epigraph—even if it does come from a fortune cookie—but Teenage Continue reading 37*. TEENAGE TUPELO (1995)