I Gotta Crow

With its Peter Pan title and grisly premise, Don't Grow Up sounded right up my alley. 

If only it wanted to go there.

Quick Plot: On a chilly island somewhere in Europe, a group of scrappy foster teenagers discover they've been left alone in their sprawling care facility. After a little too much whiskey, they explore their near-empty town and discover something very, very amiss.

It starts when they chance upon a chatty little girl in the arms of her zombie-staring mother. In a tense, horrifying scene, the mother squeezes her daughter to death, thus revealing some form of outbreak that has turned all the adults into homicidal maniacs.

Think The Children, but reversed. Or Mom and Dad, but not terrible.

Unfortunately, it's also not great. 

Directed by Thierry Poiraud from a script by Marie Garel-Weiss, Don't Grow Up has moments of brilliance but more passages of serious downtime. Running just under 80 minutes, it seems oddly disinterested in nailing any kind of specific pacing. A short horror movie is often a very good thing, particularly when dealing with the kind of murderous outbreak that should have our heroes on the move nonstop. That's just the case here.

You'd think, with that description, that Don't Grow Up would instead be more a character study. It's not, even though it has everything in place to be so. Our leads, the mysterious bad boy with a heart of gold Bastian and the self-proclaimed bored loser Pearl, are played by charismatic young actors who demonstrate plenty of potential. But for whatever reason, we don't really get enough of them in any real meaningful way. They fall flat, as does so much of Don't Grow Up.

We never learn what's causing this behavior, which is by no means a requirement of the genre (see Who Can Kill a Child? or the aforementioned The Children). There's an interesting, also unexplored mystery involved with what constitutes adulthood, as some teen characters turn and others still seem immune. That in itself is a neat theme, but either I'm too dense a film watcher or Don't Grow Up has no real interest in delving deep on the issue. That leaves us with something neither overly thoughtful nor that exciting. 

High Points

That first real scene of horror is genuinely effective, giving me hope that Poiraud has the right instincts when it comes to building tension. Hopefully his next film finds something more solid

Low Points

The overall lack of commitment, both to character and story, just leave Don't Grow Up feeling incomplete

Lessons Learned

In a pinch, perfume makes a decent, fragrant antiseptic

Seeing murdered children is a big hormone booster for British teenagers

Eighteen does not an adult make

Rent/Bury/Buy

My frustrations with Don't Grow Up stem in part from the film's clear ability to have been better. This concept has been executed better. Find it elsewhere.

A Few Inches To Spare

Another year, another slew of little villain-centric movies covered here at the Doll's House. And if, like me, you STILL thirst for one more bit of killer kid cinema, let us all be thankful that the doctor is in the house.

Over yonder at Senseless Cinema, the probably not medically trained Doctor Pseudonymous puts his expertise to use with a review of the definitive "evil children who hug adults to death with black fingernails" classic, The Children.

Far down under, we have a glorious trio of posts from dear friend of the Doll's House, Chris Hewson. Head on over to Not This Time, Nayland Smith for plenty of shortness, including

The Cat From Outer Space!

Jodie Foster in Candleshoe

And not one, not two, NOT EVEN THREE but FOUR Herbie movies!

And if your eyes are getting tired and your ears need a workout, allow me to say that on episode 99 of The Feminine Critique, we tackled 2016's far better than you think it is The Boy, as well as the classic Canadian oddity that is Pin.

Don't forget! If you have something to contribute, you can always email me at deadlydollshouse (at) gmail (dot) com for an inclusion here. When it comes to Shortening, we're always hungry!

Did I Kill Davy Jones? Also, Thus End'th The Shortening

As we say goodbye to 2012's 2nd Annual Attack of the Vertically Challenged Villains: The Shortening, it brings me incredible sadness to mourn the passing of my very first crush and perennial petite powerhouse, Monkees lead singer Davy Jones.

Growing up in the late '80s, I fell in love with basic cable's reruns of their comedy show, so much so that I used my very first tin of push pins to hang posters of Davy's sparkling eyes on my bedroom walls. Two years ago, I blushed my way through meeting him at New Jersey's Chiller Theater convention where I was excited to discover he was still good-looking AND a good inch and a half taller than me.

While there, I bought a fan club worthy autographed 8x10 glamor shot that still proudly hangs over my toilet, meaning Mr. Jones will forever watch over those who do their bodily business in my apartment.

Davy Jones passed away on Leap Day. As far as I'm concerned, that implies we only have to acknowledge the fact that he died every four years and therefore can go back to daydream believing him back into existence for the other three. That's how the system works and I'm sticking to it.

It's a fitting, solemn end to 2012's Shortening, though personally, I'm a tad disturbed. See, just two weeks ago, I also had to mourn the passing of a celebrity I harbored serious romantic feelings for throughout my elementary school years: former Mets catcher and baseball Hall of Famer Gary Carter, who succumbed to brain cancer on February 16th. If I could have been an underage polygamist in a highly experimental tribe, you can bet a few leprechauns that I would have been Mrs. Emily Intravia-Carter-Jones. It worries me to see the highlights of my youth taken before their time. Now let us lend kind thoughts and extra bodyguards to other notable entries in my imaginary lovebook, including fellow vertically challenged superstars Rick Moranis and Martin Short.

On the sunnier side, we have one last round of Shortening sharing! Thanks and cuddles to the following bloggers who tackled some vertically challenged villains and lived to write about it:


Over at Cinema Gonzo, sir Thomas Duke headed back to the swinging '60s for the oddball little person horror, Curse of the Doll People. Find it in its glory this way

Also on a Mexican trek was Ms. Mermaid Heather, who opened up the toy chest for a review of Dolly Dearest and thusly conquered both The Shortening and Women In Horror Month:

The cool as an air conditioned space Elwood Jones headed up north for one of my personal favorites, David Cronenberg's extra gooey The Brood. Go have a taste.

Dare you forget T.L. Bugg's swap duty covering 2008's killer kids in a winter wonderland classic, The Children. It might not be a fair fight for poor Darby O'Gill's leprechaun army, but the Bugg still does it right.

Finally, though I failed to find a proper doll flick for this month's festivities, the Direct to Video Connoisseur came to the rescue with pristine coverage of Puppet Master 2 and the quick cut-and-paste job (of the movie; not the review) for Dollman vs. Demonic Toys.

As we march on through March, there are glimmers of hope: HorrorHound Weekend's biannual snugglefest, a hopeful Leprechaun marathon on the SyFy Channel, the return of Community, the quest to snag a green milkshake in the Bronx that's supposed to be that way. Will anything top little people conning men out of their souls, shrunken men fighting tarantulas, Mickey Rooney encouraging child labor, or Harry Potter trying to out-act creepy monkey dolls? It's hard to say but I take comfort in knowing we will always have 2012's Shortening, and more importantly, Davy Jones will always watch my houseguests pee.

Darby O'Gill Babysits The Children

It’s time for that monthly switcheroo with T.L. Bugg! I love these swaps for two reasons: 

1-It gives me a chance to read one of my very favorite blogger’s takes on movies I either love or just REALLY want other people to watch (giggle giggle Nutcracker In 3D)

2-It’s my monthly reminder to mail in my rent check. 

For this Very Special Shortening Swap, I assigned Zach 2008’s The Children, one of my favorite recent horror films from a certain subgenre I dig more than grilled cheese. He went in a very different, more child-friendly (and less child-killing) direction with 1959’s Darby O’Gill & the Little People.

not the right little people

Quick Plot: After an awesome credits sequence wherein Walt Disney writes a note thanking leprechauns, we meet the titular Darby, an eccentric Irish caretaker well known at his local tavern for telling tales involving little people. 

Nostalgia alert! Before the days of trivia night, there was the crazy old man obsessed with leprechauns to keep your beer tasting better.

One day, the owner of the estate Darby works on with his daughter Katie rides into town to force him into retirement. The time has come to replace the aging leprechaun lover with Michael McBride, a strapping young man from Dublin played with strange bland gentleness by Sean Connery. Darby isn't ready to tell Katie about the change and instead spends an evening hanging out with King Brian and a whole kingdom of very small, very energetic little people who live inside a magical mountain.

Let's get this out of the way: partying with leprechauns ROCKS. Literally and figuratively, since a) they dance like mad b) they're not shy about the beverages and c) little dudes really like rhyming games. If such a colony invited me to live out my last days on their wine and tunes, I wouldn't have to eat a bowl of Lucky Charms before signing the lease.

But Darby, bless his drunken heart, is a tad reluctant when King David tells him to stay forever, using his wiles to instead trick his old pal and return home to big people alcohol. The King follows him for AN ENTIRE NIGHT OF DRINKING, rendering him useless as a magician come the morning sun. 

As I try to work through the plot threads of Darby O'Gill & the Little People, I'm struck by how much goes on. Perhaps I've had a few too many Guinnesses myself because I'm several paragraphs into a synopsis and haven't even detailed Katie's inevitable relationship with James Bond, the token bad guy angling for Darby's job, the tavern filled with villagers thirsty for more leprechaun tales, King David's mildly sinister plan to further eff with Darby and his wishes, and the death-bringing banshee who figures prominently in the final act.

Got all that? No? Here, have some more stout.

Or whiskey.

Or wine.

Or Jim Bean, J&B, Zima, Tequiza, or whatever poison you prefer. Because I say this in true: Darby O'Gill is the most joyfully alcoholic kids film I've ever seen. I wouldn't be surprised if an entire generation of Baby Boomers can look back to that sunny afternoon at the cinema as the turning point in their lives and livers. 

It's absolutely amazing.

Also, a super fun and charming fantasy! I'm a huge fan of children's entertainment that appeals--without pandering to--adult sensibilities (thus explaining my unadulterated adoration of all things Muppet), and Darby O'Gill is one of those remnants from a time past. Though the heavy Irish accents may confuse a few kids (self included), the film is colorful and cute enough to entertain the little ones while offering plenty of smart dialogue and likable relationships for their parents. It's almost the perfect family film, so long as your family isn't Mormon or dealing with alcoholism. 

And by the way, if I found a leprechaun right now, I'd use my first wish to get "It's almost the perfect film, so long as your family isn't Mormon or dealing with alcoholism" as a DVD box cover quote. A girl can dream...

High Points

I'm all for equal opportunity acting jobs for little people (Tiptoes, how you disgust/fascinate/thrill me) but as more recently seen in Elf, the forced perspective style to make the leprechauns, well, leprechaunish is genuinely charming

Apparently the film’s big singing number, “My Darling Irish Girl” was quite a hit, and not just because it maybe included the vocals of a future Highlander. As with most of the instrumental jigs, it’s a pretty darn catchy tune

Low Points

I know, I know: it was a different era in the world, but that doesn't make the threat “I'll throw you in a river and drown you like a kitten" any less disturbing

Lessons Learned

When you sup with the devil, you need a long spoon

Leprechauns have plenty of stamina, but drinking games are still an effective means of manipulating their gifts for your cause

Alcohol is great no matter how tall or short you are

The Winning Line

“Your heart’s as cold as a wet Christmas!”

Is it Albert Sharpe's delivery that makes this sound like the world's most felt insult? The unified gasp from the leprechauns when they hear it? Or really, is this just the greatest thing to ever say to anyone ever?

Rent/Bury/Buy

Darby O'Gill & the Little People is the kind of sunny and strange film I wish I knew of as a kid. It has catchy musical numbers, copious amounts of alcohol, James Bond, and leprechauns. Drunk leprechauns. Drunk leprechauns that don't want to kill you, they just want to dance! And drink. Did I mention drink? The DVD includes a few cute extras worth a gander though sadly, no alcohol. That's kind of shocking since just about every slide in the reel is soaked in stout. Did I mention there's some drinking in this movie? Sorry, I tend to repeat myself when I've had a few Guinnesses (Guinni?). What was I saying?

Right. Okay, so get wasted with Darby, then sober up with T.L. Bugg's review of a truly terrifying horror film. 

Then wash away the fear with more drinking. If you’re lucky, the leprechauns will bring the booze.

Vay-Slay-tion...eh, it's vacation; I can't be bothered to make a clever title

There are a lot of options when it comes to choosing a vacation plan. Too bad most are simply one-way tickets taking you straight into horror movie hell. 

Examine:

Cabin In the Woods

Sometimes you just want to get away from it all, snuggle into a flannel and tap into your inner woodsy hermit. Too bad this usually ends in zombification, skin-rotting disease, sexual abuse via forestry or genital mutilation. What, you think Evil Dead, Cabin Fever, and Lars Von Trier's Antichrist are exceptions to the rule?

Athletic Excursions

Most of us prefer to exercise our alcohol tolerance during a vacation, but there are the bizarre few who escape to foreign lands in order to best be active. Serves these physical overachievers right for encountering such horrors. Robert Fuest's 1970 chiller, And Soon the Darkness, follows two fit young women exploring the French countryside via bicycle, working their legs so much that it becomes impossible to run away from the mysterious menace hunting their ten-speed path. Similarly, the kickass girl group at the center of The Descent could be enjoying leisure tours of the Appalachian Mountains, but sadly, the only thing they learned from Deliverance was that a sleeveless red leather jacket looks good in the wilderness.

Snowy Escape

If you're like me, you see the sweltering heat of summer as a preview of hell, making a winter getaway in June as close as you'll come to the pearly gates. It makes perfect sense for the Norwegian med students to snowmobile their way through Dead Snow while on a school break; it's just a shame their drinking games get interrupted by Nazi zombies. Things could be worse. They could be fighting their own flesh and blood, much like the ill-fated parents of The Children, another winter-break horror that ends in doom.

Island Adventure

Because you know how much directors like the contrast of blood on snow, you wise up and hit the sand somewhere safe where no real-life horror can ever find you. Of course what you get instead is generally a supernatural menace thirsting for your suntanned flesh. Look to Lucio Fulci’s Zombie for a pair of innocent (just slightly nude) scuba divers thrown into an undead infested Caribbean paradise. And no, don’t assume you’re safe just because you already survived a harrowing horror movie fate. Poor Sheriff Tiler has to rebattle the titular Jack Frost in the 2000 sequel to the world’s greatest film about a killer snowman. Yes, there’s a killer snowman in the tropics. Don’t think too hard. You’re on vacation.

Cruisin

As long as you’re immune to seasickness, why wouldn’t you hop on board a cruise ship? Live music, shuffleboard, and daily all-you-can-eat buffet trips...What’s the catch? Nothing really. Just the minor inconvenience of being stalked and slaughtered by a tall dude with a machete (if, of course, you’re referring to the first 3/4 of Jason Takes Manhattan). Rather keep your itinerary in your own hands? It’s hardly safer, at least if you’re weak to the charms of Billy Zane (and who isn’t?). That’s the lesson learned by Sam Neill and Nicole Kidman in 1989’s Dead Calm, and unless you plan on having sex with a psychopath and aiming a bow and arrow at your beloved pooch, I advise you observe it carefully.

Road Trip Fun

See America the way Henry Ford intended with a cross-country road trip accompanied by hours of I Spy. One can only cycle through 99 Bottles of Beer On the Wall so many times before the  need for a new adventure rises, at which point there are plenty of inbred cannibals (Wrong Turn), possessed mannequins (Tourist Trap) and dysfunctional psychotic families (The Texas Chainsaw Massacre) waiting to make your vacation a little more memorable.