No No! Stick To The Status Quo: High School Musical (2006)

I when first undertaking the "experience" that proved to be High School Musical I thought that I would just pick the most absurd line in the entire film as the quote for the blog title.  There were quite a few options to choose from, but while watching I realized that the "Stick To The Status Quo" song which is apparently intended to promote diversity and extending beyond one's assumed roles in life, is really quite arbitrary in a film that suggests as long as you stick to your original accepted lifestyle, it is permissible to be curious about the world around you, but again as long as you are successful at your socially prescribed role.  I understand that this was a made for television movie that aired on Disney Channel, but damn if it was not the most popular thing upon the time of its release, particularly for a young and impressionable crowd of people, who might have seen the half-hearted, poorly made movie as a sign of pushing diversity or new ideas into the world.  I am not lying when I say that some of the acting and production value at play in High School Musical is worse than The Room.  At least, there is a sense of endearing misdirection in the so-bad-it's-good cult classic, here considering the budget dumped on this film, it is inconceivable that it is anything less than well-executed.  In terms of a musical, High School Musical also falters considerably as it relies on glaringly obvious post-production sound and is so heavily edited during the choreographed sequences as to make one wonder as to whether or not any performer knew their dance routine beyond say two or three steps.  If Disney was ever clear in its failed intents on promoting diversity, it is right here in this film that almost seems smug in how well it is able to check off its "look we have this person of color" checklist and does the bare minimum necessary to deal with any sort of body politics.  Stick to the status quo, while not the intended mantra of this inconceivably bad piece of television movie execution, nonetheless, proves to be its reality.  Indeed, High School Musical is so concerned with middle-grade normative execution in terms of narrative that at times it almost seems to be ironic, and where it released by any other company than Disney I might be able to follow such a possibility.  Here, however, it is just in bad taste.

High School Musical begins in some bizarre space of a Christmas break resort, where the young Troy Bolton (Zac Efron) finds himself more occupied with spending time with his dad and school basketball coach Jack Bolton (Bart Johnson) than taking in the festivities created for him and the others at the resort.  At the prodding of his mother, he agrees to attend a social for teenagers, where he is forced to sing karaoke alongside Gabrielle Montez (Vanessa Hudgens).  The two, despite their initial nervousness, hit it off and find themselves exchanging numbers, only to lose each other in the crowd of New Years partiers.  When Troy returns to school the following week, he discovers his basketball teams, most notably Chad (Corbin Bleu) in place, alongside his admirer and school drama star Sharpay Evans (Ashley Tisdale) in line to engage in another normal year of school, with Troy as star basketball player and Sharpay as theatrical ingenue.  Yet, when Troy turns in class to discover Gabrielle in attendance he is immediately exited, realizing that it is his opportunity to rekindle their burgeoning interest from the break, a stroke a fate too great to pass up.  Both concerned with their ability to fit in under varied demands, Troy remaining a symbol of athletic prowess and Gabrielle navigating between being welcomed and avoiding becoming the brainiac girl, the two coalesce on auditioning for the drama departments annual musical, much to the confusion of the faux-erudite drama teacher Ms. Darbus (Alyson Reed).  The confusion is quickly removed when the two sing and all in attendance realize their skill, particularly the apprehensive Sharpay and her performance partner, sibling Ryan (Lucas Grabeel).  Needless to say sabotage becomes a thing of necessity as not only do the Evans siblings see the danger in their success, Chad and leader of the academic team Taylor McKessie (Monique Coleman) also want to quash their dreams, hoping that by doing so their respective organizations will succeed. After tricking the two into stepping down, the guilt proves to great and they manage to fix the status of both the big game and academic match to afford the two auditioning time, much to the pleasure of the entire school.  In the end the two rekindle their romance and a few other heteronormative pairings happen as a result.

This movie is half-concieved.  Hell, I would even go so far a to say that it was lacking in any sort of conceptual understanding of narrative gaps at all.  There are moments of contradiction in this film that just seem absolutely wrong to the point of being frustrating.  Set in the most nondescript of places Albuquerque, New Mexico, High School Musical pushes to create a space where all persons are represented.  Indeed, this is a rather normal trope in regards to the high school film, but it is also used in a much more knowing irony in say a John Hughes movie, or definitely so in Clueless. Here it is solely a result of a group of producers thinking they could profit hugely from creating a piece of young adult media that could be consumed by all.  However, the only people who would buy such malarky would have to be from upper-middle class status, although in such a situation as to believe that they are still situated within a lower class identity.  High School Musical, in fact, suffers most from its seeming willingness to embrace a society where all persons are on an equal financial footing.    Take for example, Troy's dad and his emphasis on the financial burden which will be removed from their family if he were to gain a scholarship.  The amount of escapist idealism here is treated with the same sense of urgency at play in the deeply moving and socially troubling documentary Hoop Dreams.  Were it to be a narrative where Troy was clearly from an impoverished family this would be less complicated morally, but it is worth remembering that the film begins with he and his family at a winter resort, in which money is clearly necessary to obtain.  If this were not enough, however, the fact that Troy is able to also play basketball on a regulation size court in his own backyard is a rather huge advantage and one that is afforded to a person of considerable wealth.  This is all layered on top of a reality where the students at this school are privileged with the funds to have a drama, sports and academic department that are fully funded and capable of pulling together full teams with the newest equipment and resources.  Without rambling further, High School Musical suffers most from its refusal to acknowledge the privilege within which it situations its narrative.

Key Scene:  ...ummm, there is a line that Coach Bolton delivers that is nearly inaudible, I guess it is my favorite part of the film.

Avoid this film, I watched it so you do not have to, instead, go watch a Busby Berkeley musical.  Also Zac Efron has the stupidest faces in this movie.

I Must Remember This Feeling And Use It In My Acting: Fame (1980)

Grandstanding and bombastic line delivery seem almost too inextricably tied to the musical to be a thing that I find issue with.  However, this is an attachment that almost exclusively works in the context of Classical Hollywood musicals and becomes less necessary the farther into contemporary film one gets.  More so, when a film clearly makes it a point to embrace a low-budget, intimate look at a inner-city life one ravished with poverty and immobility the grandstanding can become somewhat more troublesome.  Fame, the cult musical from Alan Parker does suffer considerably from this very over-the-top nature, but in some ways it is rather acceptable considering that it intends to look at a space where people are constantly performing for the sake of self-identity as well as for their future livelihood.  Fame works in some was primarily because it takes no shame in going big with its ideas, while juxtaposing them against the stripped away veneer of a rundown, but, undoubtedly, prestigious fine arts school. Indeed, while it does possess enough musical numbers to warrant it being placed within the genre, it far more something in line with the coming of age tale, wherein, a group of awkward kids come to learn about sex, lies and the trouble of access in a harsh world.  This sort of scathing look at growing up would appear ill-conceived and somewhat troublesome, but it manages to approach the issues with some degree of earnestness, only going too far on a few occasions, allowing for characters to exist in nearly possible moments only to allow their character to take on narrative layering.  Indeed, while the film does clock in at over two hours, it still feels as though it is missing some elements, almost as though characters backstories were cut out in favor of focusing on two singular experiences making certain portions come off as slightly exploitative.  While not completely unwatchable and certainly better than some of the musicals I have encountered this month, Fame, nonetheless, does become underwhelming during its closing sequence one that is assumed to carry a heavy emotional investment, but like its cutting to credits merely stops not attaining anything deserved of next level film admiration.

Fame focuses rather sporadically, albeit in a linear fashion, on the experiences of a group of students attending the New York High School for the Performing Arts, first beginning with auditions, where the various instructors of dance, theater and music are subjected to both profoundly moving and outright awful performances, while also establishing the importance of various characters, whether it be the accidental dancer Leroy (Gene Anthony Ray) or synth rock prodigy Bruno (Lee Curreri) and his expansive keyboard set up.  The students all begin by claiming their desires to be in the unique setting, many noting their particular financial limitations.  As the narrative moves into Freshman year the narrative focuses in on the experiences of two students in particular, the wide-eyed and constantly evolving Doris (Maureen Teefy) and South Bronx native turned aspiring stand-up comedian Ralph (Barry Miller).  While they do possess a mutual friend in Montgomery (Paul McCrane) his own struggles with embracing his homosexual identity lead to him stepping away from the narrative.  As the students move through Sophomore and Junior years, Leroy is confronted with a classroom setting where his lower class, black identity becomes a thing of confusion and fear for his English teacher, who finds it necessary to constantly bemoan his indifference in class, even calling him out for his inability to read at one point in time.  Bruno comes under fire by his orchestra teacher Mr. Shorofsky (Albert Hague) for a disagreement on the nature of Mozart in a contemporary setting and Doris and Ralph, after an initial romantic fling, have a falling out when Ralph's drinking and unhealthy bar life become a thing of trouble.  Other members of the school both current and former come to discover the ways in which the industry, particularly, acting on screen proves limiting and threatening, particularly for one young girl named Coco (Irene Cara) whose foolish belief that she could star in European art house films is quickly shattered when she attends a screen test.  However, upon graduation it appears as though all has come to fruition even in insane contexts, allowing the entirety of the class to somberly and sentimentally reflect on their past and look forward into the future.

The sort of brevity and briefness of most encounters in the film is decidedly frustrating.  I respect the film for attempting to navigate a rater wide scope of identities within the space of the performing arts, but it also does so with such faint brush strokes as to give off an heir of essentialism, wherein Leroy and his own struggles to move out of severe poverty speak to all identities within the urban African-American community, just as Montgomery comes to reflect the entirety of gay culture in what is essentially a monologue about said identity.  Fame seeks in what appears to be earnestness to tackle these issues, without realizing that a mere mention is often far more fatal than an actual singular focus.  Sure it is great that the film wants to paint such a complete picture, but it also means a complete loss in depth to the film, which helps to explain my earlier complaint that by the closing of the film the resolution carries little to no emotional investment because there is nothing within which for the viewer to ground their experience.  Sure Montgomery is relatable, but his portion of the film accounts for maybe two percent of the narrative and aside from the overplayed moment of Leroy struggling to read next to a fire barrel under a bridge nothing affords the viewer a reason to relate to him, instead only being able to pull from his confrontational attitude in other moments throughout the film.  Interstingly, the film almost seems to lean on the power of the teachers in the film, whether it be Leeroy's stern English teacher, who appears to receive more narrative leeway than the homeless Leroy, or the manner with which the stuffy Mr. Shorofsky still proves to be "correct" about the nature of classical music, despite completely rejecting the possibility that Bruno's music could attain any success, an assumption that is negated by the success of Coco and Bruno when performing.  If any figure actually achieves respect that is not a student it comes in the way of Bruno's father Angelo (Eddie Barth) who is wholly supportive of his son's musical aspirations both emotionally and financially, although this is even tenuous as he constantly calls attention to his sacrifice.  It is a film that wants so desperately to show the layers and varieties of struggling that it is at once spread too far and too thin to prove evocative.

Key Scene:  The construction of the scene when Ralph reflects on his violent father in the neon-light lit apartment is poetic and while the acting and narrative might be a bit lacking, it is washed over with the soft red in such a way to allow it to be decidedly moving.

This is easily a rental option, although it might be more worth your time to watch The Rocky Horror Picture Show which is actually shown at considerable length during one sequence.

He Who Controls The Rebound Controls The Game: Kung Fu Dunk (2008)

The J-Drama/K-Drama scene is something I am not familiar with, despite having a deep admiration and love for all things contemporary and East Asian.  It is not that I do not think that I would at the very least enjoy the absurd plots of Korean kids dealing with high school romances in the supernatural or find something evocative and captivating in period piece Japanese miniseries, I love both of these narratives in their filmic form, but am fully aware that an endeavor of the sort in regards to drama would suck way more time out of my day than I already do with watching movies.  Therefore, I occasionally try to nab a film that looks expressly like it is a result of Asian television more so that film and considering that Kung Fu Dunk fit within the framework of my month of martial arts films, it figured like a perfect opportunity to kill the veritable two birds.  Of course, Kung Fu Dunk is a Chinese film, but its existence is quite similar to that of the aforementioned J/K Drama works, in so much, as it is a highly stylized and overly melodramatic film that does not delve too deeply into serious social issues, although Kung Fu Dunk does venture into some rather interesting territory.  It is necessary, first off, to note that this film is nowhere near that of Shaolin Soccer, but in a humorous tip of the hat makes that rather clear from the onset.  Instead, Kung Fu Dunk exists in a space similar to that of a high school comedy that might appear in the world of The Disney Channel, right down to the archetypal characters and the absurdists adult figures.  Indeed, I could not help but draw constant comparisons between the film's main star and the indomitable media presence that is Justin Bieber.  Kung Fu Dunk is a textbook mid-grade film whose offering is nothing revolutionary, but is also not unwatchable, instead existing as a series of thoughts ideas and action sequences that were thought up by producers to create something that could be produced quickly, relatively inexpensively and turn around a quick dollar.  Considering this frame of mind, Kung Fu Dunk is fun, but never exceptional.  Indeed, it lacks the stakes or threat of narrative danger necessary to a truly good film, particularly in the martial arts and even sports drama.  The characters are likable, but not memorable.  If anything is to be outright praised about this film, it is what I can only assume to be the entire sequence that stands in as a shot-for-shot remake of a highlight reel from the games played by the 1992 USA Dream Team.

Kung Fu Dunk begins by focusing on the early life of an orphan named Fang Shijie (Jay Chou) who is taken in by a vagrant kung fu artist known for his attempts to master a technique that will alter time.  However, messing with such a dangerous technique results in the man's death and Fang is then relocated to another dojo, where he is reviled by the headmaster and used as a literal punching bag.  During an evening when he wants to escape the woes of the dojo life, Fang wanders about a park in the city, tossing cans carelessly into a trash can, with surprising precision.  This catches the eye of a hustler named Wangli (Eric Tsang) who realizes the potential Fang could have in hustling at a local bar.  During the night he takes Fang to the club and begins using his skills to win dart games, much to the frustration of the bar owner, who sends his goons to attack, all of which are fended off by the versatile Fang.  However, this bar owner is also a dear friend of the dojo master, who punishes Fang and then exiles him from the dojo.  Fan desperate returns to Wangli who comes up with the idea of using Fang's skills on the basketball court, combining his precision with the orphan narrative to create the most ideal of underdog stories.  Arriving at First University, the idealist Fang is confronted with a group of basketball players who while skilled deal with a variety of problems, whether it be the injury of their star player, or the crippling alcoholism of the team's captain Ting Wei (Bolin Chen).  Matters are made worse for Fang when his long time crush Li-Li (Charlene Choi) proves to be the sister of Ting, providing an initial anxiety to Fang as he attempts to prove his skills on the court.  While Fang is excellent at making shots, he is not as skilled at the basics of basketball and delves heavily into his training, eventually earning the respect of his teammates, although he has yet to find his family.  The First University team eventually makes it to the finals where they are forced to face Fire Ball, a team infamous for their foul play and financial backing, one that is the same as the owner of the bar with whom Fang and Wangli are at odds.  However, despite the unending cheating on the part of Fire Ball and its backers, Fang uses a long lost skill to assure a win, earning admiration from all involved and even a chance meeting with his father.

Mind you a condensed that narrative a bit, but there are also a lot of side stories going on in the film that never really come to fruition.  I am rather certain that the narrative was much longer in its inception and was wildly cut to fit a shorter film, thus assuring the limited attention span of the young adult audience for which it is likely intended.  Indeed, the film makes great strides to show how aware it is of Western youth culture, between the absurd outfits worn by the characters, to the decadent engagements of the young people as they move about the spaces of clubs drinking and dancing as though the former has no lasting repercussions, even for Ting who is depicted as being a heavy alcoholic, shaking with anxiety on any occasion where he is not guzzling alcohol out of a flask.  Other elements, like Fang's attachment to his lost family and coming to learn familial bonds through friendship, also emerge, but what I found most fascinating is the manner with which the film dealt with cheating, almost as if to put forth a larger narrative about the nature of exploitation and its unfortunate past in Chinese history.  The figure of the club/Fire Ball owner is that of a man who wills his way in everything, even hiring the referees to run afoul when it proves that Fang and his teammates might win a game.  The narrative seems to suggest that China acknowledges its problematic exploitative past through figures like the club owner, as well as Fang's father, who even dons an outfit that seems indicative of feudal Chinese power.  In the past, no amount of diligence or unified efforts could have afforded those without access to those with and even when underdogs did emerge, the person in power would stifle their movement in very real and jarring manners.  In Kung Fu Dunk it is with a baseball bat, whereas in Chinese history one thinks of the man standing up against a tank, one of the most iconic images in a post-television world.  In the end, however, the film does embrace a notion of companionship through trust and team bonding, reminding viewers that while dunking is cool it rarely wins a game.  This narrative is highly invested in a communist based ideology of unity for a common success, but entrenched within individual endeavor, it manages to avoid the trouble of blind robotic devotion and embrace the singular identity in the process.  Ideally there would be more of this in the film, but, again, it is a narrative mess that was likely the result of heavy script editing.

Key Scene:  Again the scene that might have doubled as 1992 USA Dream Team highlights is pretty wild

Honestly there is nothing really excellent about this film that makes it worth watching.  If you are bored it might be worth taking a look at, but Shaolin Soccer is a far better film for kung fu martial arts, and pretty much every Korean film about high school is better than Kung Fu Dunk.

We Knew The Box Was Empty All Along: Volcano High (2001)

If I have learned anything from the narrative world of cinema, it is that for anyone going to high school in a fictional world, things are especially tough, whether it be need to plan elaborately just to skip a day of school only to have Ben Stein repeatedly call your name a la Ferris Bueller's Day Off, or realizing that planning as something as simple as a house party for your friends requires deceiving your father, fighting a ton of high school bullies and then dealing with racist cops in the film of the same name.  Yet, in all their absurdity, these films manage to still exist within a state of normalcy, in the sense that the endeavors are understandable, while the obstacles might be a bit inconceivable.  This is not the case for contemporary South Korean cinema in the slightest.  While much of their output is already non-linear and narratively rejects a fictional world that fabricates a simulacra of the world viewers are to share, it is no more obvious then in the High School films being released by the country.  This is clear in the supernatural horror series that includes both Whispering Corridors and Memento Mori, wherein a ghost attack serves as a metaphor for a larger ridicule faced by a young lesbian couple.  In a more wild example, a work like Daesepo Naughty Girls looks at dealing with difference and high school cliques through a sci-fi invasion narrative that will have even the most expansive of cinematic tastes questioned and confused.  In the middle of these films exists a work like, Volcano High, which is very much in the vein of the paranormal high school narrative, while also being a film that exist within the martial arts and kung fu genre, although the fights in this film take on an psychic extension yet seen in a large degree during this marathon.  While the film is not absolutely stellar and often relies on the aid of style to negate from dealing with some of its more substantial narrative issues, it is a fun movie to look at and Tae-gyun Kim's high flying choreography paired with an industrial editing style and mise-en-scene do invoke a style of filmmaking that existed around the late 90's and early 2000's that plays very much off of the breakout cult hit The Matrix.

Volcano High, as the title suggests, focuses on the experiences of Volcano High School, a school riddled with authority problems as various leaders of clubs and organizations attempt to take back the Secret Manuscript, which holds unknown power.  The manuscript, however, is held by the heads of the school and has recently been seized by the power hungry Vice Principal (Byeon Hee-Bong).  Meanwhile a new student has come to the school in Kim Kyung-Soo (Jang Hyuk), who has been kicked out of eight schools previously for his "disruptive" classroom behavior, although the narrative seems to suggest that in every scenario it was a result of prodding and bullying by others.  Needless to say, when Kim comes to Volcano High he is instantly approached by various members of the earlier mentioned clubs to join their groups and it is made abundantly clear that these groups function as high profile gangs who engage in bouts with one another, whether it be Jang Ryang (Kimm Soo-ro) who is the captain of the weightlifting team and all around tough guy.  Ryang's willingness to assert his physical authority has led to his being labeled as the dark ox.  Furthermore, there is also Hak-rim (Kwon Sang-woo) the school's most powerful martial artist, who is framed for the disappearance of leaders after the Vice-President's move for power, nonetheless, agreeing to train Kim when he realizes his latent psychic abilities.  During his time at Volcano High, Kim also takes to liking the captain of the kendo team Yoo Chae-Yi (Shin Min-a) whose love for Hak-rim only has led to her being known as Icy Jade in that she refuses to acknowledge the advances of even Kim.  As the narrative unfolds it becomes clear that the students are being played upon one another while a push for wild power occurs by the Vice President, who hires a new set of faculty to deal with the skills of the various students, thus resulting in an authoritarian rule in the space of Volcano High that leads to a wild revolt and confrontation, which affords even the most unlikely of allies unity.  Kim, learning to harness his unique powers, becomes a hero in the school, but as the closing montage suggests, this also comes with the continued expectation that he defend such a title.

It is in this sense of contesting and reaffirming authority that Volcano High excels.  Indeed, much of the narrative is spent considering the power that words, symbols, age and gender play into who is allowed to assert their opinion or reject the ideas of a person in charge.  The most obvious sense of this comes through the constant reminder that the President of the school exudes the most authority, despite spending nearly the entire narrative in a stone like state, after being poisoned by the Vice-President.  In the case of this his age, masculinity and name have afforded him a place of unquestioned privilege and to a degree exploitation, since it is rather obvious that Volcano High is not the most well-run of high schools.  The lingering authoritative presence of the president is only one aspect of this authority, in so much as the collective of the faculty seem capable of exploiting the students based on threats of expulsion and punishment that are often vague and non-physical, which is interesting in that it seems to speak to a larger cultural issue of shame and identity.  The students at Volcano High are already a diverse group of individuals, either socially different for personal choices or physical abilities that are deemed almost that of a mutant and the thought of having a mark on their record that would suggest anything but positive would therefore ruin their career.  Knowing that once I graduated from high school and began college, everything I did in high school became irrelevant, I can still remember believing that even the smallest misstep might result in my future downfall.  It was authority working at its finest, in that its mere presence resulted in my paranoia to the point of acting far too conservatively for a majority of those years.  Foucault would have been ashamed.  While some of the students at Volcano High fear similar results, they seem far more concerned with the power possessed by the Secret Manuscript that affects the choices and movements of the main characters, despite it being revealed relatively early on that it is merely an empty box.  This empty box and indicative of rules and authority is perhaps the greatest of the filmic metaphors on authority, because it is grounded in nothing, in a very literal sense, much like many institutions of oppression and ruling.

Key Scene:  The first bamboo forrest fight is quite watchable, all be it highly referential and a bit of a rehashing of other fight scenes.

I would probably overlook this film, unless you really like Korean cinema or high school movies.  In which case you will probably adore this film.  Only thoroughly liking the former, the high school elements all seemed highly forced to me.

I'm An Apex Predator: Chronicle (2012)

I am constantly in the favor of the found footage genre, as has been proven through many reviews on this blog, beginning with my surprised fondness of the Paranormal Activity film, and more recently considering one of the breakout films of 2012 in V/H/S, in fact, between a hopefully final fourth installment to the Paranormal Activity franchise, along with the other previously mentioned film it was already a highly touted year for the found footage film, add the surprisingly watchable and incredibly bold Chronicle to the mix and you do indeed having something decidedly revolutionary within the genre, begging for a push towards something grander, more artistic, but still considerably underacted. Hell, I have yet to see End of Watch and while it has not received rave reviews it sounds as though it is worth checking out and certainly not void of value, especially when considering that it incorporates a rather strict use of the found footage mentality.  While the story within Chronicle is admittedly forced and somewhat overembelished, especially in the closing scenes which are the best portion of the film, despite technically breaking the found footage barrier for a couple of shots, it is something quite enjoyable to watch.  Josh Trank makes the use of CGI, heavy special effects and clever camera tricks seem quite well-integrated and demands that the unique and often mocked genre possess some degree of respectability, even, I dare say, artistic credibility.  One could certainly make the argument when it comes to Chronicle, as a good portion of the scenes seem more appropriate for a experimental art house film than what is essentially a deconstructionists consideration of the superhero film.  Trank really does something special by making both the characters and the camera they use a thing to move through and around the space, considering the supernatural as a thing experience both within the filmic space as well as, I  would argue, transcendent of it, especially relating to the way the camera is decidedly fixated on one character's experiences, even when he is removed from the control of its movement.

Chronicle begins with an introduction to Andrew Detmer (Dane DeHaan) a social pariah of sorts who figures that the best means for dealing with his abusive father and deathly ill mother is to take up a video chronicle of his life, one that is all but hopeful, as it becomes apparent that besides being quite downtrodden by his home life, Andrew is also victim to constant bullying and degradation at school.  In fact, were it not for his loose relationship with his cousin Matt Garetty (Alex Russell), Andrew would be entirely void of any quantifiable friendships.  During a party one night, in which Matt invites Andrew in hopes of breaking him out of his shell Andrew ends up being victim to yet another bout of bullying at the hands of an individual who assumes his videotaping to be some sort of voyeuristic perversion.  Awaking from being knocked unconscious Matt and his friend Steve Montgomery (Michael B. Jordan) demand that Andrew brings his camera to an underground passage where they discover some bizarre crystal formation that glows a variety of different colors.  During this moment, the crystal explodes in some bizarre light formation blowing the trio away onto the ground and the tape then cuts to the group experimenting with new powers that allow them to apparently telekinetically control the objects around them.  Reveling in their enjoyment it becomes obvious that the powers can have positive and negative consequences, whether it be to boost their sex lives, or to cause a belligerent driver to go veering off the road into a lake.  In hopes that they can keep their new powers a secret and avoid any conflict, Matt suggests making rules against using the powers on people, and certainly demands that they do not use them when angry.  Yet, Andrew whose powers do not equate to an increase in social status begins using his telekenisis against bullies and even his own father, and act that leads to accidentally killing Steve.  In a moment of last ditch desperation attempts to use them to rob a convenience store, only to cause a shotgun to accidentally blow up a propane tank, landing the angry Andrew in the hospital.  It is here that his father berates him again, only this time Andrew's rage explodes into an uncontrollable mess and Matt attempts to stop him, leading to a rather intense telekinetic shootout through the skies of Seattle.  Matt realizes that it is necessary to kill Andrew in order to save the entire city, doing so defeated and saddened, although in a touching final scene, Matt travels to a place where the trio agreed to go with their new powers, asking for his deceased cousins forgiveness and understanding.

Chronicle, like so many movies I have reviewed recently appears to be a multitude of things, perhaps a commentary on mental handicap and learning to embrace it within an individual, or even a statement about youth and their attachment to a technological world.  Hell, it is even on a very basic level a run-of-the-mill high school coming of age story, yet what I cannot stop considering is the manner in which the film clearly fixates itself on the woes of bullying and understanding the effects such ignorant behavior can have on an individual and the way in which they engage with the world around them.  It is a pertinent topic for this year and one that clearly needs to always be considered within films marketed at this age group, it was not but about a half a year ago that a college student took his life after discovering that his roommate videotaped him engaging in intercourse with a partner of the same sex, ultimately, shaming him in the process.  It is no doubt that the degree of bullying occurring within Chronicle has a certain amount of heightened intensity to it, after all, it is a piece of action cinema, but one cannot ignore the lack of parental figures around the school to take a strict stance against such actions, not to mention the complete nonexistence of a welcoming environment for Andrew outside of the public space.  In fact, one must note that it is not until he is literally able to fly away from his problems that he claims to be enjoying his life, yet as the narrative suggests, even these moments of escapism do not mean complete removal from his very grounded and very real issues, many of which center on his own internalized failures as a masculine figure.  Certainly, it is during a party in which he fails to consummate a sexual act that even Steve and Matt criticize him, undoubtedly, leading to his downfall and breaking off from any sort of sane connection to the world.  While the narrative could certainly have ended with Andrew taking his own life or something in that vein, it chooses another equally viable outcome, the enacted social rage against those in the world around him.  Andrew attacks everything, because in his bullied eyes everything is his enemy and it is really hard not to say that the individuals involved did not have it coming.  It is a film that severely critiques unbridled othering and degrading of individuals, calling for an embracing of those even the most wildly different in society.  A pertinent film now, but hopefully not forever.

Key Scene:  While the closing battle does technically break from the found footage tradition momentarily, it manages to stay true to it to a considerable degree and makes for solid fifteen minutes in which my eyes never left the screen.

If you love found footage films this is certainly a new level stylistically and is something of considerable notoriety.  I would suggest snagging the gorgeous looking bluray if you have the finances.

Right, I'm The Chosen One, And I Choose To Be Shopping: Buffy The Vampire Slayer (1992)

Leave it to me to not realize until a couple weeks ago that Buffy The Vampire Slayer originated as a campy, satirical teenage comedy, much in the same vein as Clueless, although considerably less scathing, and tragically without the ever welcome presence of Wallace Shawn.  Where the television series would leap into some more gothic elements and clearly embrace special effects and romantic involvements, this original manifestation of the cult character considered its relation to high school experiences, as well as a surprisingly realized emergence of one girls own feminist politics.  For a variety of reasons films like this seem to fall to the wayside, perhaps a direct reflection of their revolutionary style and commentary, or a fact of it simply not fitting with viewers palettes for the era.  One cannot deny that this clearly independent film emerged well before it was made cool by Quentin Tarantino to reference other films within a film and wink at the audience.  Clearly, Buffy the Vampire Slayer manages to do this, particularly with the cinematic means by which it considers the history of Vampires, as well as what I can only assume was a conscious choice to cast Paul Reubens and Rutger Hauer in the roles of the two lead vampires.  Joss Whedon's script shows signs of the evolving writer who would come to be associated with some of the most socially conscious scripts, as well as the ones which prove to completely deconstruct everything associated with a genre piece, something which occurred with a hefty amount of zeal in 2012's Cabin in the Woods.  To call Buffy the Vampire Slayer a high-school comedy is to incorrectly categorize it, yet one cannot simply refer to it as a vampire flick, because while the title clearly suggests such a film, within the narrative of Whedon it constantly reconsiders, undermines and eventually reappropriates everything viewers have come to understand about a genre.  I would even be so bold as to suggest that Whedon is very much picking up where Harold Ramis left off concerning socially situated satirical filmmaking and boy does it exude within the brief insanity of Buffy the Vampire Slayer.

The narrative of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, while not reflective of the television series, nonetheless, still focuses on a girl named Buffy (Kristy Swanson) who seems quite content to live the life of ditsy high school cheerleader, while batting off the secretly desired accosting by her male classmates.  Yet, when a  bizarre sickness begins spreading around her high school Buffy begins considering her own identity, particularly one tied to consumerist ideologies and a rather vain attachment to the performance of cheerleading, yet it is not until some of the members of her high school begin dying or going missing that she really begins considering thing more. A confrontation with Merrick (Donald Sutherland) a professional vampire hunter, who informs Buffy that she comes from a lineage of vampire slayers, causes her identity to completely change, although Buffy tries for quite a bit of time to avert this change and adhere to her traditional ideal.  Yet as the vampires begin taking on very violent forms, even attacking her at points, she agrees to training an action that leads to her eventual awakening into her own powerful person, one capable of kicking some serious vampire ass, while also not relying on the guidance and protection of a male figure.  Yet even her strong independence does not afford her the avoidance of falling in love, in fact, she begins taking a liking to an other-side-of-the-tracks guy named Pike (Luke Perry).  Buffy's job as a vampire slayer begins to unfold from simple back alley fights, to all-out brawls at her high school prom, ones that cause her to reconsider her previous friendships, as well as her burgeoning relationship with Pike, whom she decides to ride of into the sunset with at the end of the film, after of course she a icon of good destroys all the evil in the world of vampires, or at the very least drive stakes through them and leaving them suffering well after the credits begin.

The feminist label to this film is often attached hesitantly, not because it only passively adheres to some of these constructs, but because, as I genuinely believe, many critics are quite afraid to admit a schlocky satire work could be capable of such high levels of social commentary.  I would be willing to at least acknowledge this possibility were the writer anybody but Joss Whedon who constantly proves himself quite attune to social identity issues, hell, look at Dr. Horrible's Sing-A-Long Blog, which exist primarily to undermine the writer's guild, but also manages to completely deconstruct masculinity in a post-feminist rhetoric.  However, when considering Buffy as a burgeoning feminist one must look at the way she moves from a vain cheerleader reliant on others for her identity to a ass-kicking vampire slayer.  One manner this occurs is through her wardrobe which begins with a attire that exposes her body in an exploitative way to a far more butch look, appropriate for her fight and moving about in self-protection, this is one instance in which her awakening as a feminist allows for her to change her identity not to please others, but instead to adhere to her own identity.  Secondly, her evolution into a vampire fighting master is reflective of her movement towards an individual who challenges oppressive forces, in which Rutger Hauer plays a magnificent metaphor for patriarchal oppression, considering he is an old, white and quite European male.  Buffy directly challenges the groundings of patriarchy eventually undermining it.  Even her relationship with Pike is one in which she clearly asserts control, particularly considering that she is always seen in a dominant place, aside from the films closing scene, although to read to heavily into the riding off into the sunset scene, would be to ignore everything leading up to the occurrence.  Sure they are leaving with Pike driving the vehicle, but one cannot forget that were it not for Buffy, Pike would be far from capable of operating any heavy machinery.

Key Scene:  The conversations between Buffy and Merrick could be totally forced, but under the guidance of Whedon's dialogue the flow naturally and prove some of the better moments in the film, if not, the entire prom section of the film is quite awesome.

A DVD is rather easily obtained and well worth owning, particularly if you fancy your films with a heavy amount of feminist empowerment.

You Don't Score, Until You Score: American Pie (1999)

A rather lengthy and inspired discussion of the year of 1999 in film, put on by the guys over at Battleship Pretension resulted in me jotting down a huge list of movies I intend to revisit as well as quite a few more I decided that I had unjustifiably dismissed on the grounds that I assumed them to be flat out  terrible.  One such case emerges with American Pie, a film I had scene, not in its entirety and considerably watered down on cable the years after its initial release.  I had dismissed this as a less than stellar teenage sex comedy with little to offer and thought it to be similar to another Jason Biggs vehicle such as Saving Silverman, which I argue has not aged well.  However, I had for whatever reason failed to realize that American Pie is the beginning point for the late 90's early 2000's teen sex comedy and is considerably good in comparison to its countless failed spinoffs.  It has a reputation that certainly precedes it, particularly one scene involving a baked good, this scene of course looses some of its humor given that it is such a staple of comedic awareness to my generation, yet nothing manages to compare to its fixation on sexual release as it relates to male youth and curiosity.  Similarly, for one reason or another, American Pie has become a fixture of the nudity movie within the memory and rhetoric of teen sex comedies, and while it does have one prolonged scene of a topless girl, it is a relatively lackluster film on the naked scale.  What is provided for a viewer in American Pie is a solidly executed comedy about friends facing the woes of growing up and realizing that the shenanigans and free floating that got them through high school will not suffice in their years at college.  Of course the film is aged a bit and could only work in an context like 1999, however, that is not to say the film is dated by any means, because some of the themes and concepts promulgated within American Pie are certainly transcendent of an era.  What is certain about this film is its memorability its inspiration for an onslaught of spinoffs which proved underwhelming and for considerably changing how anyone born before say 1990 looks at a freshly baked pie.

As a coming of age tale, American Pie is distinctly centered on the experiences of a group, in this case a  few guys making a pact to get laid by the end of their senior year.  The first is the suave Kevin (Thomas Ian Nichols) who cannot muster up the courage to tell his long-time girlfriend Vicky (Tara Reid) that he loves her, the jock turned hopeless romantic Oz (Chris Klein), the ever-constapated and awkwardly adult Finch (Eddie Kaye) and the films somewhat clear protagonist Jim (Jason Biggs).  In fact, they desire greatly to walk in the footsteps of assumed sex fiend Stifler (Sean Williams Scott) who is known for constantly throwing well attended parties that always turn into shag fests.  Of course their plans to get laid are riddled with obstacles, whether it be the constant interference of Jim's well meaning dad, played almost too perfectly by Eugene Levy, or Oz's failed attempts to win over a glee club girl.  Even Finch who has a fool proof plan of creating rumors about his sexual prowess and well endowment.  Along the way the group realizes that getting laid, while considerably important to their self-identity is second to their assurance of friendship, self-respect and obtaining of true love.  Both Kevin and Oz even manage to gain closer romantic bonds with the women in their lives, while Finch manages to hook up with Stifler's mom, an act that plays out as an awesome homage to The Graduate.  Jim hooks up with band geek Michelle (Alyson Hannigan) although it is revealed that he is being used by her, although Jim does not seem to protest in the slightest, especially after a rather embarrassing moment of his sexual inadequacies is played for all to see online.  In the end the group is left in a similar situation as the film began, they are matured in a considerable manner, something that has clearly occurred without the influence of their sexual encounters.

For a film that has been and continues to be referred to as a sexual comedy, American Pie is expressly not about sex or the act of getting laid.  Sure this serves as the main point of narrative push, but I was surprised to find so much more beyond this surface reading of the film.  A considerable amount of this film focuses on the notion of evolving friendships and separation anxiety.  One could argue that the group seeks physical solace outside of their group not because they need to get laid per se, but because they realize that their attendance at differing universities assures that they will no longer be able to enjoy hot dogs or sandwiches at the local restaurant after school.  Furthermore, the film is not ill-willed in its portrayal of sex, while it does mock failure to perform and over glorifies heterosexuality, it does not predicate itself on demeaning individuals as a means of comedic advancement.  The comedy of American Pie is not about sex or the acts surrounding it, but instead about the woes of youthful ignorance, particularly when the group resides in a similar boat of not knowing, but due to societal expectations fail to admit to their lack of awareness.  Jim would never been placed in the situation of humiliating himself with a pie, were it not for the lie propagated by Oz as a means to seem cool, similarly Finch would not have made disparaging remarks about Stifler, were he to realize that they shared in the same latent desires.  Also in regards to the characters of Kevin and Oz the film makes exceptional note of the necessity of love in sexual encounters, placing both of those in prominence and even going so far as to suggest that the desire for emotional comfort trumps even that of physical conquest.  Also there seems to be a considerable amount of promotion for safe sexual encounters which is always welcome in my book, especially in a film that suggests pursuing multiple partners for intercourse.

Key Scene:  While it is the iconic scene from the film, it is a trademark and I have no right to undermine   its power.  As such the key portion of this film centers around youthful ignorance and its dire effects on a still warm pie.

This is a textbook rental film, but one worth watching and revisiting if you have not seen it is some time.

I Gave Her My Heart, She Gave Me A Pen: Say Anything...(1989)

It has come to my attention somewhat recently that I have yet to see a single Cameron Crowe film, despite his having a rather notable place in cinema, more so as a writer than a director.  I am also terribly ashamed to have never seen Say Anything up until this point, although I have been guilty of referencing the scene, as well as sing "In Your Eyes" while holding my cats above my head...yeah I know.  Regardless, I look forward to seeing this film both because of its importance in being film literate, as well as my growing affection for John Cusack as an actor, I am fully aware he is by no means a fantastic performer, but when he does appear in works he always delivers a solid performance, of course, however, he is almost always playing John Cusack.  I thoroughly enjoyed the film, let me say that first, I was quite baffled though by the unusual connections in logic which Crowe uses throughout his narrative.  Sure it is a film about a guy from the wrong side of the tracks falling for the well-to-do and brainiac girl, despite everybody in their life suggesting that it cannot occur, yet in between the IRS invasion and the magical appearances of kickboxing dojo's it is hard to imagine where Crowe got off basically creating a world where anything he though appropriate could happen on a whim, especially if it helped to advance the love between a couple.  I am still amazed that even after realizing that I was aware of the writing jumps Crowe was taking that I managed to find the film not on the nose whatsoever and quite earnest in its approach.  Perhaps it has something to do with the sentimentality of young love, or Cusack's whispers and constant look of defeat, but I could not help but feel for the couple in the film, particularly when it seems as though all is doomed between the two, wholly because of the negative actions of other individuals.  Say Anything, in no light fashion, manages to be both an excellent romantic film, as well as a astute and perhaps ignored statement on class divisions in a post-Reagan trickled down economic nightmare of middle class America.

Say Anything begins in the near traditional manner of all high school romance films, on the eve of graduation, in which two characters have their whole life ahead of them.  There is Lloyd (John Cusack) the vacant young man who for unexplained reasons lives with his older sister and seems content to drift along until the sport of kickboxing becomes popular at which point he will have trained enough to win matches.  There there is Diane (Ione Skye) a profusely smart young woman who is proving quite adept even after the divorce of her parents, going so far as to obtain a prestigious scholarship to study abroad in Europe.  Despite being fully aware that she is way out of his league, Lloyd undertakes the quest of winning over Diane, something he does in the most genuine of manners, beginning with a phone call asking her out on a date.  It is at a party that they both attend that Diane realizes that Lloyd is not purely interested in sexual conquest and appears to possess a genuine desire to woo her and be with her.  Diane, while initially reluctant finds herself becoming enamored with Lloyd despite the misgivings of her dad, particularly when it becomes apparent that he is to be under severe surveillance by the IRS and FBI as a result of what may or may not be shady dealings within his recently deceased patients at the nursing home he manages.  Diane realizing that she needs to look out for her dad suggests that she and Lloyd distance themselves from one another and that she study more to prepare for her trip.  Lloyd is adamant in his refusal to agree to those terms, sending her letters, calling her incessantly and even standing outside her window playing the song from their most intimate moments together.  This all seems to be to no avail until Diane realizes that her father is indeed guilty for his actions, causing her to run back to Lloyd's arms to get forgiveness.  Lloyd attempts to act indifferently only to break apart with joy.  The two then spend every waking moment together, Lloyd even serving as an in between between Diane and her father who is now incarcerated.  The closing scenes find Diane and Lloyd together on a plane as they prepare to begin their future in Europe.

I mentioned that this film could be read to some degree as a class conscious reflection on the movement away from trickle-down economic theories of Reagan era America.  While I have not seen any other films by Crowe, and only have one memory from Jerry McGuire, which of course involves money, I cannot help but ignore the role it plays within Say Anything, all be it a bit forced by the end of the film. Throughout the narrative it is clear that Diane's dad has absolutely no reason not to like Lloyd aside form his lack of wealth and economic future, aside from those problems he is a standup guy who cares solely for Diane's well being.  Furthermore, it is not her dad's concern for her safety that eventually pulls her away from Lloyd, but his hopes of maintaining a certain level of capitalist comfort that demands that his daughter take his side as he continues to rob from the dead and on a metaphorical level rob what little things of value Lloyd has in the name of his safety.  Furthermore, when we contrast Lloyd's desires to that of Diane's father, we realize that he has little or no concern for monetary gain and, in fact, is quite befuddled by his ability to both teach kickboxing, as well as get paid to do so.  It is clear that he finds no joy in money, if it prevents him from doing what he enjoys, something that is verified when he goes on a monologue about how he wants no job relating to production in any context, a very anti-capitalist diatribe if one ever existed.  Finally, we see Diane as a mediation between the two, so greatly desiring something different from her economic success oriented life, yet finding it quite intense and scary to move away from capitalist safety at the same time.  However, in the name of all that is good she does side with a love of life over a love of money, something that seems to be a major theme in the film, although the film never really explains then how the two are to survive in Europe, although it is a romantic film, liberties can be taken with little pause.

Key Scene:  There is a moment in which Diane's father berates her about falling for Lloyd in which it cuts between three different days.  While the editing and execution are not particularly innovative, they are surprising within the context of the film, as well as the genre of romance, making it quite nice to watch.

This is a must own film for any cinephile, particularly those who love eighties films or romantic works, it is not a terribly cinematic film though, so a DVD copy should suffice.

You're Admitting It, Just By Being Silent: Memento Mori (1999)

I was going to dodge doing films within the horror genre for at least a month, however, this Korean film project has meant that I am tied down to watching a particular set of films, not that I mind of course considering it is a main area of research interests, particularly in the ways gender is portrayed within the films.  Yet even when I reflect on Memento Mori while writing this blog I realize that referring to it as a  a horror film is somewhat misleading and were it not for the last fifteen to twenty minutes of the film, it would seem to be the complete antithesis of anything of the genre.  Instead, as others of have argued, Memento Mori is a study of young love, in this case in a lesbian context and manages to stick to its guns about this theme for a good portion of the film.  Of course when I say that this is a horror movie, set in a high school about two young girls discovering their lesbian desires, one could easily read it as being something of an exploitative flick, particularly considering the latent violence and sexuality within so much of New Korean Cinema, yet, in the hands of co-directors Tae-Yong Kim and Kyu-dong Min we are provided with an earnest look into two girls falling head over heals for one another despite the aggressive and physical abuses enacted upon them by their fellow students, as well as the faculty and staff of the high school they attend.  In a tradition somewhat normal in the Korean psychological thriller, the film's narrative is quite non-linear and even appears to contain dueling narratives existing within the same film space.  While this is apparently a loose sequel to an earlier film titled Whispering Corridors, something I am now dying to see, Memento Mori manages to make strides in its commentaries on youthful angst and ill-will, as well as draw serious attention to issues of silencing and bullying the other.  I often find myself engaged in conversations in which much criticism is brought about as to the lack of interesting and appropriate lesbian figures within film, had I known of this film prior I would have leapt at the opportunities to discuss this highly overrated work.  I would boldy suggest that were Memento Mori not suffering from mislabeling as horror, it would be a far more recognized work.

The film, as mentioned, primarily centers on the burgeoning love between two young girls, one the somewhat well-respected, if not despised Min Hyo-sin (Park Ye-jin) and the reserved athlete Yoo Shi-eun (Lee Young-jin) who suffers from some sort of hearing loss that causes her to be the subject of ridicule by classmates and teachers who all seem to suffer from an insane lack of understanding.  While they manage to keep their romantic involvement somewhat of a secret, the discovery of their journal by a fellow student named Soh Min-ah (Kim Min-sun), leading to speculation and a fabrication of their evolving relationship.  This spirals the film into something incredibly non-linear in which viewers may find trouble attaching moments to their proper moment in time, particularly when scenes involve both the lovers, as well as Soh.  It is only when we witness Soh secluded reading the diary that we can assure a present state, but it moves to their moments of intimacy with such instantaneous fervor that it is never certain.  Eventually, it is revealed that despite an initial bond, Shi-eun becomes somewhat distancing towards Hyo-sin who she sees as becoming far too attached to be a healthy relationship, going so far as to sleep with a male teacher as a means of assuring that the two will have a child together.  This drives Hyo-sin over the edge causing her to commit suicide, expecting Shi-eun to follow along as part of a suicide pact made earlier in the film.  Of course, Shi-eun does no such thing and attempts only to exist and distance herself from her past choices.  This leads to Hyo-sin haunting the school for the latter portion of the film, at times possessing Soh since she is key to bringing the entire narrative to light, considering that she possesses the journal.  The film ends rather abruptly as the ghost distances itself from the school and we are again shown a moment of Hyo-sin and Shi-eun engaging in young romantic affairs on the school's roof, as though the events to follow were just a troublesome figment of their young and vibrant imaginations.

This film has received a lot of criticism, and deservedly so, for not sticking to a central cinematic concept, especially the films third act which is exceptionally frantic and damn near impossible to follow.  However, I would contest that the films message requires this sort of ambiguous and non-linear format to drive home issues of oppression and ignorance.  The relationship we are shown is created through not a factual account per se, but a gleaning for emotive notes written in an equally non-traditional diary, one full of pictures, phrases and hidden pockets, but rarely of any flat out writing.  Hyo-sin clearly struggled to explain her feelings for Shi-eun, just as she ponders existence when reading her poem for class.  She cannot properly categorize her feelings for another girl, because the societal constructs not only do not allow her to possess such feelings, but, in fact, completely lack a language to describe such moments.  The narrative reinforces this both by the hateful language spouted by the oppressive forces within the film, as well as by creating a narrative that is not traditional in its construct.  At times Memento Mori reads more like a feminist experimental film or a piece of Third World Cinema, something more inclined to deal with the intersectionalities considered in this work.  Sure this film masks itself in a horror film at its closing moments, I imagine some of that is likely to be a result of nitpicking producers, however, despite its problematic genre location, Memento Mori is very much a film to be grounded and admired within the constantly growing and emerging Gay and Lesbian cinema.

Key Scene:  The moments on the rooftop are sweet and sentimental, something not often shown in Korean cinema.

This is a great film and one worth checking out, unfortunately, it is a bit hard to come by via Netflix, but Amazon has decently priced copies at the moment.

Is This Like A Noxzema Commerical, Or What?: Clueless (1995)

Satire, at least filmically speaking, is somewhat a difficult thing to pull off, particularly if a director even cares about the validity and pertinence of said satire.  This is further problematized when an individual attempts to adapt a classic piece of literature in to a film satire, particularly when the film is centuries older than the novel from which it draws its inspiration.  Fortunately, in the hands of Amy Heckerling, a film like Clueless, despite its rather dated cultural references and definitely nineties look, is a pitch perfect satire.    From the opening use of "Kids In America," to the use of sped up camera shots to emphasize time lapse, Clueless captures the plummeting sense of morality and absurd degree of ennui that consumed the youth of mid-90's America, particularly those with an insurmountable amount of wealth and hardly any concern for the larger picture of the world in which they existed.   An easily quotable film, it is clear to see why Clueless has accrued a respectable degree of cult status over the years, and while I was uncertain about my girlfriend's initial insistence of watching the film managed to find myself coming around to its brilliance in a matter of moments.  This is also a film filled with what seems like an unending array of cameos, although considering the date of its release, perhaps the only actual cameo in the film is that of Wallace Shawn who was by then a well established actor.  Clueless, as a satire, manages to exist in a world of absurdism that has viewers both considering the implausibility of what is being portrayed, as well as the off chance that somewhere, somehow this is a tragically real existence, one that makes you want to bang your head against the wall for having acknowledged.  However, despite a somewhat roundabout plot, Clueless is quite excellent to view and manages to make, at least backhandedly, some statement about finding self-identity in a culturally vapid society, as well as the values of friendship with respectable and varied individuals...or it could just be a huge comedy, either route is fine by me.

Clueless centers on the less than troubling life of Cher (Alicia Silverstone), who along with her friend Dionne (Stacey Dash) roam the halls of their profusely wealthy high school exuding their clear popularity and somewhat less clear sense of fashion.  Cher struggles with her grades, as she attempts to navigate the waters of a home life which witnesses her taking care of her busy lawyer father Mel (Dan Hedeya) in replacement of her late mother, as well as forming a bond with her pseudo-stepbrother Josh (Paul Rudd).  Cher's life seems exceptionally lackadaisical, until the emergence of a new grunged out girl named Tai (Brittany Murphy) allows for a project in refashioning for her, and along with the help of Dionne the two make Tai into a thing of pride, despite her clear attachments to a grunge lifestyle and one of the schools skateboarder potheads Travis (Breckin Meyer).  Similarly, Cher find herself falling hard for a new student, and Luke Perry look-alike, named Christian (Justin Walker).  While Christian certainly appears to take a liking to Cher it is clear that Christian has no sexual desires towards her and would rather spend time watching Tony Curtis films and shopping.  Once it is brought to Cher's attention that Christian is clearly gay, the two rekindle a strict friendship, while she comes to grips with her own identity something that is further drawn into question when she notes Tai taking a particular interest in Josh.  Upset at first because she is so close with Josh, Cher eventually realizes that her attachment to her Dad's ex-wife's son is far more than just platonic and the two share a kiss of longing in the films closing moments, before they all attend a wedding for a pair of teachers they fixed up in the films opening scenes.  Did I mention the film is based off of Jane Austen's Emma, if not it should be considerably obvious...what with all the insta-romances and out of the blue weddings.

There is a clear criticism to be formulated as it relates to Clueless, however, it is entrenched in some sort of Marxist-philosophical-psychological level that I am simply not equipped to speak about at this time.  Instead, I want to conjecture as to why the film has managed to not only find success upon initial release, but why it has further lasted some seventeen years later.  First off, the film takes a very critical, look at the generation we have become considerably nostalgic about in times of economic woe.  Clueless manages to confront the issues of wealth and conspicuous consumption abrasively, without completely ridiculing the individuals in the film for enjoying success...or their parents success to be more precise.  Yet the youth in this film are not completely void of value, sure they spend heavily, recreationally use drugs and are profusely vain, but they too are existing in what was arguably a scary time in American history, considering the images of Bosnia and middle eastern conflict that filled the screen, something directly commented upon in the film.  Of course, it takes some degree of effort to get person's like Cher to acknowledge this tragedy and undertake organized efforts to confront the issues, but when she does so it proves rather successful.  Furthermore, it is not fair to blame the youth depicted in this film for their disconnect, because as Herckerling's film manages to show, with the exception of a few driven teachers, they are essentially barred via media, parental distractions and capitalist desires from accepting the tragedies invading the world.  Overall, this is what, I believe, manages to make Clueless a bit transcendent of its dated image and far more than simple satire.  Clueless manages to capture a real tragedy facing youth of the era, that has, to some degree only grown worse within the past decade.

Key Scene:  Aside from the various film homages, the best executed scene is perhaps when Cher takes her drivers test.

This movie is quite good and incredibly watchable and is, at the moment, available on Watch Instantly so as always there is no time like the present.

I’m Here My Whole Life, And I’m Like A Disease: Sixteen Candles (1984)

In many cinephiles eyes, John Hughes is the ultimate eighties filmmaker.  His often raunchy and always sentimental teenage angst films film viewers with nostalgia for a simpler time when the woes of not being sexually attractive or popular outweighed the financial burdens of adulthood.  His small-town American imagery was always ideal and implied unity amongst the most unlikely of friends, and his 1984 film Sixteen Candles is certainly no exception.  However, what separates this film from his later works, particularly The Breakfast Club, is rawness.  The dialogue, cinematography and general feel of the film leaves viewers with the impression that Hughes made the entire film on the fly, apparently using improvisation and accidentally good footage as his inspiration.  In a way Sixteen Candles could be seen as Hughes’s Breathless, it is equally philosophical and certainly as problematic.  Despite having class, race and gender issues the film is the piece-de-résistance in high school, given that it precedes The Breakfast Club and contains actors who would soon become icons of the 1980’s, most notably the films star Molly Ringwald, who would find little success after The Breakfast Club (The comparisons with Jean Seberg seem eerily convenient.)  Ultimately, Sixteen Candles is sweet, quotable and a feel-good movie if ever one existed.

Sixteen Candles centers on the troublesome life of Samantha Baker (Molly Ringwald), a distraught girl whose sixteenth birthday turns out to be every expanding disaster.  The film opens with Samantha claiming that she feels no physical change with her newly found age, noting specifically that her breasts are still unnoticeable.  This self-esteem issue is only heightened by her own family’s failure to acknowledge her birthday due to their preoccupation with their other daughters impending wedding.  Bewildered and depressed, Samantha heads to school and decides to fill out a secret sex survey, one in which she admits a strong desire to sleep with the school stud Jake Ryan (Michael Schoeffling).  Believing that she has passed the information to another girl, Samantha’s luck worsens when she realizes that the note in which she mentions Jake’s name has actually fallen into his hands.  She beliefs her chances with the dreamy senior ruined.  Beyond this, Samantha is incapable of shaking off the unyielding advances of a young man simply known as The Geek (Anthony Michael Hall), who, along with his posy, which includes a young John Cusack, attempt to win her heart.  In the meantime, Jake admits his own fascination with Samantha and confronts The Geek about his feelings, creating a rather unlikely duo.  The Geek agrees to end his pursuits of Samantha and accepts Jake’s attractive, but socially inept girlfriend as an exchange.  After all the shenanigans and sexual proclivity of a high school comedy, Samantha finally meets up with Jake and they are shown celebrating her birthday atop a coffee table in one of cinema’s most iconic moments.  All is happy, but not all is without problems.

John Hughes may be known for making brilliant films, yet his films suffer from a heavy amount of ethnocentricity, particularly in regards to white male ideology.  The film from its imagery to its dialogue seeps white middle class America.  It is difficult to spot any character who is not white, a problem that reemerges in The Breakfast Club.  This is of course excluding the stereotyped character of Long Duk Dong (Gedde Watanabe) whose exaggerated antics and misunderstanding of English is more of a hindrance to Asian-American actors than an advance.  Similarly, the film seems to applaud the objectification of females.  Jake and The Geek are obviously pursuing sexual conquest, the former for a new fling and the later for social advancement.  While Jake and Samantha are shown in a closing, moment of intimacy little is noted of Jake’s fidelity, particularly given his willingness to drop his previous girlfriend instantaneously, despite her rather outlandish antics.  The Geek is even more problematic given that his desire for acceptance leads him to lie about sleeping with Samantha, using her underwear as proof, making the importance of the act contingent on an object.  Furthermore, while it is never blatantly stated it is assumed that The Geek takes advantage of Jake’s ex when she is drunkenly incapacitated, which is tantamount to date rape.  Tragically, Samantha, the character capable of transcending this act, is equally inclined to these acts of objectification, gazing at Jake’s girlfriend in adoration desiring, not her personality, but instead her body.  This desirous gaze dually objectifies the girl, as well as Samantha.  The film lacks a voice of reprimand, a problem that arguably plagues the other works of Hughes.

So I know my critique makes the film seem unviewable, but to be honest it is still a good movie, it is just problematic.  It is a classic and a must see eighties film.  It is not superior to The Breakfast Club, but is still great and any film buff should own a copy.

Collège l'humour: Foreign Exchange (2008)

American independent filmmaking and toilet humor high school comedies ought never to mix.  Sadly, nobody informed Danny Roth of this notion.  His 2008 film Foreign Exchange attempts to make a low budget high school buddy film that happens to deal with global opinions on the American way of life.  His attempts to mask legitimate commentary on American foreign relations through sex jokes and weed references fails miserably and viewers are left wondering why they did not simply rewatch American Pie.  Foreign Exchange is a film that lacks in every sense of the word.

The film centers on a group of high school friends attempting to slack off for their senior year of high school.  Part of this laziness includes hosting foreign exchange students in their homes.  The central figure of this group is Dave (Ryan Pinkson) who foolishly assumes his exchange student Laurent to be a female.  Along with his other friends he attempts to enjoy his last semesters without concern.  In fact, the only thing Dave seems to show interest in is wooing his long time crush Robyn (Vanessa Lengies).  Dave and his friends assume that they will all go of to college together and continue their wily ways without the burden of living at home, although this seems insignificant because each of the kids' parents are either nonexistent or overly supportive of their child's miserable life choices.  I am sure you can guess the plot from here on out.  Dave wins Robyn's heart and the guys all go their separate ways realizing that their lives after college are inevitably different.  There is nothing left to elaborate on...the plot is as insignificant as the movie.

I will avoid heavy criticism of this movie and instead note the complete lack of ingenuity in regards to high school/college comedies.  I am slowly coming to realize that this is a dead genre with nothing new left to offer.  John Hughes basically covered all the issues of high school twenty years ago and every college film is simply a homage/remake of Animal House, with or without the existential issues of The Graduate.  To be fair decent movies in this genre do occasionally arise both Van Wilder and Superbad come time mind as recent examples.  Ultimately though, the college comedy is dead and there is no amount of "foreign" influence that can appear to fix it.  We can only hope that a director emerges who is more concerned with telling a unique story than attempting to relive his high school years through bad cinematography and crude narration.

My closing words for this film are simple...do not bother.