Ladies & Gentlemen, The President...and a chimpanzee dressed like a cowboy

Arnold Schwarzenegger seriously screwed up any chance I have at writing an effective intro to Bedtime For Bonzo, the 1951 comedy wherein Future President Ronald Reagan plays papa to a chimpanzee who wears human clothing. I wanted to make a great point about how anyone born past a certain point of familiarity with Reagan as an actor can’t help but be completely fascinated and even dubious that a man who once made a living mugging onscreen with a well-trained chimp would later go on to become one of the most powerful humans in the world

See, in the old days—but post Reagan as an actor, so not THAT old days—the biggest performance we’d get out of our politicians was their baby kissing or tax questions tap dancing or the juggernaut saxophone performance and failed spelling bee of the ’92 election. Our politicians were former lawyers turned public speakers who lived in suits and permanent smiles. They weren’t movie stars.

Then a man who once played a pregnant male scientist, futuristic robot, and Danny DeVito’s twin brother became governor and everything relevant to Bedtime For Bonzo changed forever. 

At least for my generation.

Quick Plot: Peter is an up and coming psychologist engaged to the stuffy word generally reserved for female dogs daughter of his boss. When his future father-in-law learns that Peter’s own pops was a convict, the wedding is called off and Stuffy Word Generally Reserved For Female Dogs seems okay with that. Not overly happy, but more “okay, we’ll just wait til Father rethinks this,” rather than “I love you and support you and will try to change my father’s mind.”

For whatever reason, Peter decides to fight for his rather apathetic fiancee’s approval the way any future president would:

Befriending a monkey.

It’s a little more complicated than that, I suppose. In addition to wanting to marry an awful woman, Peter is keen on proving his theory of nurture over nature and what better way to do so than to train a wily chimp in the ways of a good and pure nuclear family? Thusly does he embark on hiring a mama—who conveniently enough is a sugar sweet young lady who seems poised to play the foil of his beloved at every turn—and begin daily routines of a healthy breakfast, kissing mama before leaving for work, and of course, putting Bonzo to bed.

Naturally, a series of misunderstandings leads to a second broken engagement, arrest, chimp dressed like a cowboy, job loss, chimp sale, burglary, chimp in glasses, and love triangle, that last of which is egged on by Peter’s partner, a foreign scientist who might actually be cinema’s classiest pimp. This being a 1954 family comedy, all ends well, even if not every member of the cast rides off into the sunset wearing a seatbelt.

High Points

I’m not necessarily keen on the man’s politics or his understanding of the food pyramid, but future president Ronald Reagan is actually quite likable in the lead role, even when being engaged to a total snob

Low Points

Surprisingly enough, there isn’t that much drama or intrigue to be found inside a film about a psychologist trying to train a chimpanzee

Lessons Learned

Almost 23 is not so young

A papa should tell a mama when he’s almost engaged to someone

You can’t be a dope without a college degree

Hearing the future president shout “You’ve got to help me find my monkey!” makes me realize how no man can repeatedly say ‘monkey’ without sounding weird. It’s not just you, Harvey Keitel!

Standard Animals Doing Human Stuff Trope Tally

New Kid In Town: X

Recent Dead or Divorced Parent: X

Montage: X. Although there is a prolonged musical sequence involving the monkey on a bicycle, which is sort of the older generation’s version of a montage.

New Friendship: Check

Potentially Inappropriate ‘Friendship’ Between Child & Unrelated Adult (Human): X. 

Evil Corporate Enemy: Check. Heads of universities make for formidable villains

Original Song: X

Bully Comeuppance: X 

Small Town Values: X

Back To Nature Moral: X

Overall Score: 2/10. I guess the tropes have an expiration date after all

Rent/Bury/Buy

Having never seen Ronald Reagan act in a film, Bedtime For Bonzo was certainly an experience of sorts. It’s not every day you watch a future world leader cradle a chimpanzee in his arms and feed it with a baby bottle. Reagan apparently despises this film, which somehow makes the whole thing that much more amusing. Kind of like thinking ketchup would be a good serving of vegetables for the youth of America...

Horrible Non-Horror! Junior

Junior is the movie about Arnold Schwarzenegger getting pregnant. And I am 29 years old and have somehow never seen it.

Life, what the hell are you?

Did I mention it’s directed by Ivan Reitman and costars Danny DeVito? Meaning, of course, Junior is brought to us by the same golden trio that gave us the wonders of the comedy classic, Twins!*

*Truth: I haven’t seen Twins since its theatrical run in 1988. I recall two things about it: 

1-Ahnahld loudly singing “Yackety Yack” on an airplane and me doing the same whenever the moment calls for it

2-It being hilarious

Also, I was six and a great judge of cinema. Which means Junior couldn’t miss, right?

Quick Plot: Meet Dr. Alex Hesse, a bland scientist on the brink of discovering new fertility treatments with his partner, Dr. Larry Arbogast. After a failed proposal with the uptight FDA and firing from Frank Langella (playing, essentially, the same role he previously mastered in Reitman’s Dave), the pair decide to go rogue and impregnate Hesse for further experimentation while they seek new funding. Toss in Emma Thompson as a sympathetic and clumsy fellow researcher, Pamela Reed (Arnie’s unlucky partner in that other gem, Kindergarden Cop) as DeVito’s ex-wife pregnant with someone involved with Aeorsmith’s baby, and a whole lot of jokes about how crazy women are and bam! A classic is born.

Oh I could continue with the scientific details so adorably skirted over, but considering the very first scene of Junior involves an infant peeing all over Ahhnahhld, do you really care?

Yup, Junior is a film clearly written and financed for the sole purpose of being able to sell it with the simple premise “Arnold Schwarzenegger gets pregnant.” Really, there’s little else you need since the following tricks are clearly going to write themselves:

-Ahhnahld in drag, which naturally means a lot of pink (because that’s what women ear, right?)

-Gay jokes (impressively restrained until the film’s second hour)

-Ahhnahld acting like SUCH a woman by eating pickles, constantly holding his belly, vomiting, crying over commercials, and complaining about how his partner comes home late after he slaves over a pot of spaghetti

There’s not an easy joke Junior doesn’t deliver (ba dom bomp!) but I don’t know that we’re supposed to expect much more. I mean, not EVERY comedy can be Twins, right?

High Points

Emma Thompson may very well be a goddess among women. Saddled with the love interest role as a clumsy scientist, she’s introduced with terrible slapstick yet somehow emerges a wonderful and sunny presence in the film. I laughed from a real place with her pitch perfect delivery of the best come-on in cinema history: 

“Call me old fashioned but I’ll be damned if I’m having a child with a man i’ve never slept with!”

Also, the movie has cute monkey babies! Cute monkey babies!

Random Sightings

That’s Aida 'Janice Soprano' Turturro as DeVito’s assistant, James 'Brenda & Brandon’s Dad' Eckhouse as a fellow doctor, and a gloriously mulleted Chris Meloni as an expectant father

Cringeworthy Moments
“Strong swimmers. Big load. Way to go!”

Three sentences I don’t ever want to hear come out of the mouth of Danny DeVito

I’ve gone on record as saying the nurse slaying in The Exorcist III is easily one of the most terrifying minutes in cinema history. This is true, but you know what’s truer? The fact that this is scarier (as witnessed by the man who posted's reaction: 

Ahhnahld uttering, with far too much conviction, “My body. My choice!”

And just when you think it’s safe and the film has reached its HOUR AND FORTY NINE MINUTE MARK, Ahhnahld eats birthday cake off his toddler’s bare foot

Lessons Learned

In order to make a muscle man appear intelligent, give him glasses and scenes set in a library. It might also help to teach him how to hold books, but we as an audience shouldn’t be so greedy

Steifan is Austrian for something Danny DeVito gets all the time

Any movie made in the ‘90s that featured pregnancy as a major plot point was required to culminate in multiple babies being frantically born on the same stressful evening (see Father of the Bride Part 2, Nine Months)

Rent/Bury/Buy

In true honesty, Junior wasn’t quite as awful as I feared/expected/hoped. Yes, clearly there were moments that will have me giggling until SkyNet becomes self-aware, but Reitman isn’t incompetent, Thompson is a pleasure, DeVito does his thang, and Schwarzenegger’s presence is entertaining in itself. As an instant watch on an in-need-of-a-laugh day, one could do far worse. Most of the humor is at the expense of the film rather than because of it, and isn’t that what we  need more of in life?

And just to end things right, here.

Hear Me!

Or I'll make it so you never hear again!

Wow. That was harsh. Excuse me while I lighten the mood.

That's better.

Loyal fans and/or musical theater nerds should know that last week marked a triumphant convergent of master geekery at its finest when Neil Patrick Harris guest starred on a Joss Whedon directed episode of GLEE. Many viewers experienced nirvana. Seriously, it was like Martyrs but without the headwraps. And torture. To hear my and co-hostess cupcake Erica's take, I give thee Episode 6 of the one and only gleeKast (with a K; there's one with a C and I don't lie). 

And speaking of Martyrs...

How about a little vegemite with that beating? You can find some here at Girls On Film Podcast , where I guested on the illustrious Rachel of RachOnFilm.blogspot.com 's new estrogen-fueled chat about Predator, kangaroos, and everybody's favorite French genre bender. Spoilers are many, the audio quality scratchy, Australia offended, and four ladies--including Christine of Paracinema Magazine and the thus far blogless, yet movie-smartful Deborah--have a grand ol' time. You should listen.

Otherwise, this happens:

And that makes no one happy.

Touch Down, Doll's House Style

Break out the guacamole and beer, it’s Super Bowl Sunday! Watch grown men hug in tight tight pants! Pity well-toned cheerleaders prancing around in hopes of staying warm enough to not catch pneumonia! See millions of dollars spent on talking babies advertising websites that will probably be gone by the time Shutter Island finally premieres!

Or don't. Not a football fan? How unAmerican (literally, as who else in their right mind watches football?). Thankfully, there are alternative activities appropriate for  this February 7th, and I'm not talking about the Animal Planet's Puppy Bowl (although that is damn adorable).

Queue up the television and gear up for a non-football Sunday involving football in genre film!

The Blob 1986

One of my favorite underappreciated horror films of the ‘80s, Chuck Russell’s remake (!!!) is a must for any horror devotee. Original gore, surprising kills, and a genuine spirit of fun makes this 1988 film (with a script co-written by some Stephen King fan named Frank Darabont) rewarding viewing for any day...particularly if you’re not a fan of football.

The Blob doesn’t do much with the sport, but one of its best twists revolves around its assumed Big Man On Campus hero, a nice young man in a letter jacket who seems poised to save the cheerleader and annihilate the giant thickened liquid devouring its way through local diners and movie theaters. He’s handsome in that bland kind of high school way but, as his premature fate proves, dude's got nothing on Kevin Dillon’s fabulously mulleted badboy. Consider this soon-to-be-remade-again classic a touchdown for outsiders harnessing death wishes on wedgie making jocks.

The Running Man

True, there’s never a wrong time to pop in this 1987 Arnold Schwarzenegger gem. Between the kickass action, colorful villains (where else have you seen a homicidal opera singer dressed like Lite Brite?) brilliant dialogue (“I’ll be back!” “Only in a rerun.”), and ahead of its time satire, Paul Michael Glaser gives Stephen King--excuse me, Richard Bachman--a worthy adaptation of fun and violent goofiness. 

In 20 years, this is probably the kind of show that would air immediately after the big game, and I for one would be far more thrilled to sit through Jesse Ventura’s Captain Freedom punching a neon spandex-wearing muscle man than a special guest star clogged episode of Friends. And hey, with two politicians playing lead roles, what could be more American. Still not sold on its pigskin pedigree? What if I told you the reigning champion of The Running Man (the game, not the movie) was former Cleveland Browns star Jim Brown? And his character is named Fireball? Because his weapon of choice is a flamethrower? Plus, there's hockey for the Canadians, classical music for the cultured, and Richard Dawson for the elderly fans of Family Feud. Everybody's a winner (except for most of the cast, who die)!

The Faculty

Looking past the somewhat dated CGI, Robert Rodriguez’s hybrid high school sci-fi/horror is arguably one of the best--or at least, freshest--genre films of the 1990s. Take a Dawson’s Creek ready cast of walking teenage archetypes, sprinkle in some killer cameos (Salma Hayek, Jon Stewart, Piper Laurie, to name a few) and inject some Invasion of the Body Snatchers style  and you get a successful mash-up of homage and new horror. 

But what makes this soft R-Rated 1998 flick worth your Super Bowl Sunday? Did you hear the part where I mentioned it’s set in high school? And let me add, a small town. If films and television have taught us anything, it’s that any middle America hamlet is required to devote half its budget and much of its glory to football. The Faculty has a lot of fun with this, cheekily showing the benefit of a close-contact game when you’re trying to take over the world with an easily transmitted alien virus. Shawn Hatosy‘s star quarterback even gets a poignant identity crisis storyline, but it’s ultimately Robert Patrick who makes this a film to replace the first two quarters  you were planning on devoting to the Saints & Colts. Strict sports coaches can be a scary thing--I’ve seen Freddy’s Revenge--but only the T-1000 himself can succeed at being so coldly menacing while wearing a pair of unflattering gym shorts.

Play Zombies Ate My Neighbors

Granted, this one takes a little nostalgic pack-rackism on your part, but if you've saved that dusty Super Nintendo system and more importantly, this superbly fantastic game, you've got an entire Sunday of pure bliss staring at you in 16 bit graphics. 

The story is simple: a small town with an abundance of water pistols, beaches, Egyptian musuems, castles, shopping malls, hedge mazes, and toxic waste dumps has been invaded by a whole lot of classic movie monsters (including, but not limited to mummies, vampires, werewolves, axe-throwing dolls, clones, Tremors, 50' tall babies, spiders, giant ants, Martians, blobs, and of course, the titular undead). Your job? Save as many civilians as you can. As cheerleaders are worth the most points, Zombies Ate My Neighbors is more than fitting for Super Bowl Day, especially since one level is set on a football field where your character must dodge fast gliding quarterbacks to grab the bouncing blond. 

So good luck to the betting men and women out there, go Colts if you're a Colts fan, Saints if you're a Saints fan, and godaddy.com if you're a daddy dot com. Otherwise, happy sort-of genre film football day to all!

A Very Verhoeven Viernes

There have certainly been lows (the mean-spirited Hollow Man which doesn't even make the concept of nude Kevin Bacon watchable) and, well, films I've yet to see (Black Book, one day), but for today's underlooked director spotlight, let's raise a Pilsner to one of the Netherlands’ finest--and underrated--imports of the past century.

1. Flesh + Blood

How do you make a period movie inherently interesting? When in doubt, inject a hearty dose of sex and violence or, if you’re stuck the 16th century, Flesh + Blood. Starring a young, oddly Americanized Rutger Hauer as Europe’s premiere mercenary, this superbloody epic follows a band of criminals as they travel the countryside looting  and raping most anything in their path. There for the ride is a fresh-faced Jennifer Jason Leigh turning in a naughtily playful performance as an engaged noblewoman taken hostage and quickly learning the art of manipulating the male sex. Not quite as grand or classy as higher profile fare like the Lord of the Rings or Excalibur, but an overall blast that, if nothing else, deserves unmeasurable bonus points for featuring a climactic battle determined by the catapulting of plague-ridden dog meat. Eat that, Spielberg

2. Robocop

Few blockbusters combine action, character, and memorable dialog quite as well as the 1987 cop drama/sci-fi action shootout/Frankenstein tale of corporate power weaseling its way into public policy. In the age of Blackwater scandals and questionable presidential financial investments, the basic premise of Robocop is surprisingly more relevant 20 years after its inception, while the human drama continues to tug at even the most jaded Transformers-weary heartstrings. Some of the stop motion may aged about as well as Belial’s hotel room rampage in Basket Case, but Robocop remains an engrossing and intelligent piece of damn fine, damn fun cinema.

3. Total Recall

Arnold Schwarzenegger‘s best work (I know, that doesn’t say THAT much) but it’s a quite a feat that the Hercules of NY can almost pull off the role of an everyday blue collar construction worker slowly discovering the life he has isn’t real (or IS it?). If the concept of Ahhnold emoting is too much, sit back and enjoy watching a current government official stick a futuristic needle up his own nose, beat up Sharon Stone, turn down a tri-breasted Martian hooker, and use a dying civilian as armor in a shooting spree. A ripe story from the mind of Philip K. Dick goes far, but it’s Verhoeven’s all-out intergalactic party-hard attitude that makes this one of the 90s’ best science fiction extravaganzas. 

4. Showgirls

Everybody has dreams, but few pursue them with such aggressive thrusting as Nomi “I’m a dancer!” Malone, as energetically (and insanely) played by Jessie Spano with a tan. When we look back at 1995’s NC-17 rated Showgirls, it’s hard to believe people were hesitant to see what’s become the greatest film ever to emphasize the importance of hamburgers that don’t suck, brown rice with vegetables, and ice cubes at auditions. Showgirls may very well be the trashiest studio film ever released with so much fanfare, and unless your sense of humor is A-cup size, I dare anyone to watch the film without cracking  a smile, or, let's face it, breaking into hysterical laughter and resisting the urge to schedule weekly Cheetah parties catered with lots of Cristal and chips. What was Verhoeven actually going for with this Cinderella story for trailer grown ingenues? There's nothing actually sexy about seeing Elizabeth Berkely writhe like an epileptic dolphin in a pool, dry hump Kyle MacLachlan in a dimly lit strip club, or end a romantic evening by proving that it is indeed her time of the month (yes, that's in there), but I like to believe Showgirls is a far more satirical and self-aware cautionary tale about stardom than its Razzie record would contend. Whether Verhoeven knew what he was doing or not, this is one film ridiculously worthy of the cult status it has slowly been building and will still be entertaining well after Vers-ayce is out of style.

5. Starship Troopers

Audiences ignored this 1997 sci-fi actionfest based on Robert Heinlein’s Nazi homaging tale of a future war with ginormous plasma-shooting, limb-tearing bugs occupying a planet in travel distance from earth. Thankfully, it eventually found its audience and spawned two sequels of its own (one lame, one awesome), but it’s this R-Rated theatrical shoulda-been blockbuster that remains one of the most joyously gruesome two hours one can have with Caspar Van Dien. Some quibble with the 45 minute 90210esque opening melodrama, but I’d argue all the coupling of pretty/wooden actors serves to whet your thirst for their impending doom. When the praying mantis-ish warrior bugs start biting their way through soldier’s body parts, we care enough to recognize the bloody victims, but feel rather ambivalent about their personalities to crave their less-than-comfortable fates. Sure, some of the CGI battles are starting to show their age, but all’s forgiven when Michael Ironside gets a chance to be badass. I didn’t even mention the brain bug, tongue-in-cheek newsreels (featuring none other than 90210’s own Principal Teasely) and the fact that Verhoeven cast Neil Patrick Harris years before the rest of the world caught on to just how cool he was.

So there you have my vote for most watchable director of extreme cinema. While I wait for the world to officially recognize the greatness of pasties and the effects of Mars’ atmosphere on human flesh, let’s hope this oft overlooked maestro of nutritious popcorn flicks keeps delivering his joy.

Motion Sickness Is the Least of Your Problems

A shorter than usual review of a better than average film:

Somewhere in the mid-levels of hell is an endless family road trip complete with tone-deaf sing-a-longs, backseat driving, and epic parental bickering sparked by minute issues such as someone having packed the wrong flavor of sugar wafers. While I don’t think the likes of Jeffrey Dahmer or Adolph Hitler will experience this painful, if not quite Salo-esque torture, such a place would most likely be reserved for sinners who deserve eternal punishment with minor glimmers of relief sparked by winning some rounds of 20 Questions or spotting a license plate from Alaska.

I’ve taken my share of vacations via the highway.

One of the great things about Dead End, a small festival veteran from 2003 that never quite found its audience, is that the film is fully aware hell is not just other people, but more specifically, your family after too many hours in a moving motor vehicle.

Quick Plot: It’s Christmas Eve on the road as the Harringtons make their way to mom (Lin Shaye, giving her all)’s family of gun and good liquor loving relatives. Daughter Marion (Alexandra Holden) is a psychologist with her boyfriend in tow and teenage son Richard is an obnoxiously horny and homophobic Marilyn Manson (not Branson) fan. Things take a turn when Dad takes the scenic route and comes upon a young woman toting a suspiciously quiet baby on a quiet and lonely open road. Mystery is in the winter air.

It doesn’t take long for bad things to happen. An ill-advised detour to an abandoned cabin leaves one passenger alone long enough to end up banging on the back window of a passing Rolls Royce, only to be discovered in a gooey and burned state icky enough to send a family member into inconvenient catatonia. Clearly, this holiday is on its way to being far worse than the time Dad drank too much eggnog and the kids gathered round to watch Jingle All the Way*

I rented Dead End on a whim due to the random discovery that it takes place on Christmas Eve. Following Cuento de Navidad , this is another refreshingly low profile pleasant surprise filled with interesting nastiness and a wonderfully twisted sense of humor. I was reminded slightly of The Signal ’s second chapter (minus the head-in-a-vice and blood-spattered helium tank), where black comedy seems to be banging on the door (or car windows) and sending tiny minions inside to twist a rather traditional horror narrative. 


Writer/directors Jean-Baptiste Andrea and Fabrice Canepa haven't made a masterpiece, but Dead End is a far more interesting ride than its bargain bin title and heard-it-before premise would lead you to believe. With solid performances, surprisingly effective jump scares, and a playfully wicked script, Dead End finds its own voice and delivers a fun enough 90 minutes that makes for a truly enjoyable alternative Christmas. Maybe next year I'll pair it with The Ref for a dysfunctional family double feature worthy of my eggnog toast.

High Points

Although each character doesn’t quite have the time for genuine in-depth development, it’s refreshing to see a family composed of normal, everyday people prone to selfishness, neuroticism, and a begrudging sense of familial love.

All the performances are marked by a nice and steady level of high energy, with Robocop’s way too cool Ray Wise standing out as the patriarch trying his best to save those he cares about.

Low Points

Perhaps it’s just that I’ve seen to many ghostly night-of-terror direct-to-DVD titles that utilize this type of ending, but the final explanation--even though it’s not quite it appears to be--feels like well-worn territory too tacked on for a rewarding finish

Similarly, the half-hearted attempt to toss in a haunted backstory so late in the film feels like a line of filler that doesn't really do anything to enrich the already engrossing narrative

Lessons Learned

Here’s a surefire relaxation technique taught across the nation by college baseball coaches: breathe in deeply through your nose. Now slowly let it out through your mouth. Done.

Always choose a Secret Santa with an NRA membership


In order to ease your sister out of shock, try to avoid confessing to murdering her pet hamster a few years back via such an unpleasant and unsanitary means as the kitchen microwave

Lab coats are so comfortable, many doctors wear them on the drive home.

Rent/Bury/Buy:

While this isn’t hauntingly grim holiday horror along the lines of Inside or totally unique territory like Cuento de Navidad, Dead End is far more worthwhile than its low profile and dull title would have you believe. The mix of dark family humor with a standard horror setup makes for an experience that doesn’t quite take the direction you’d expect and in the modern age of remakes, teens in turmoil, and torture porn, it does its job with gusto, innovation, and a joyously off-kilter Christmas spirit.

*If I had the time I’d review this Arnold Schwarzenegger epic fail of 1996 because holy Christmas is this a terrifyingly bad film. I didn’t think the Action Star On the Decline period could get worse than Batman & Robin, but between Jake Lloyd’s practice rounds to destroy the Star Wars saga, Sinbad’s awful turn as an offensively disgruntled mailman (complete with a bomb scare plan), the wasting of Phil Hartman as an oily neighbor sexually harassing a married woman, and a horrifically commercial message at its heart, Jingle All the Way may be the most frightening Christmas movie of all time. Without question, my kids will be watching Billy Chapman hack his way through the naughty well before seeing the future governor of California punch a reindeer in the face.