Why I Love: Spider Baby

I was happier than Rob Zombie at a truck stop when Final Girl ’s Stacie Ponder announced Spider Baby, or The Maddest Story Ever Told as this month’s Film Club pickaroo. To quote my original review (read here) back on Valentine's Day of aught 9:

“This is horror comedy the way it should be done. Unique and pitch-perfect performances around the board, disturbing images that tickle like a spider’s spindly legs, and cheerfully self-aware dialogue to make you giggle. If this film doesn’t make you smile, your heat is made of stone that needs to be ground and served on a platter with rabbit and fungus. Nothing personal. It just is.”

I stand by that statement with even more conviction one year later, especially as I’ve since seen Jack Hill’s quirkily brutal 1968 black comedy about four more times. I adore it because gosh darnit, it’s one of the most lovable genre films I know. My original review spouts oodles of admiration, and I’d like to build upon that here with a new installment I hope to eventually Page Widgetize called, plain and simple, Why I Love (a movie I've seen many times).

5 Reasons:

1. Lon Chaney Jr.

With a rich baritone and unfolded map of a face, Chaney’s presence is such a solid base of kind warmth. Nearing the end of his career (and life), the once famed Wolfman turns in an earnest performance that somehow reminds me of why I’ve always wanted to hug the Cowardly Lion.

2. Family Love

Sure, Virginia, Ralphie, and Elizabeth aren’t the clan you’d like to be waiting on at your Denny’s waitressing gig, but the Merryes are undeniably a loving a family through and through. Chaney’s Bruno is the guiding force, a man who has devoted his life to providing the best possible conditions for three monstrous children to spend a few years. The sisters’ devotion to Ralphie is plain adorable. Heck, even the family pets are treated with kindness and gentility (so what if they happen to be fuzzy man-eating tarantulas). 

3. Quirkiness of the ‘Normal’ Characters

It’s easy to write off Quinn Redeker and Mary Mitchel as token Marilyn Munster tropes. Clean cut and attractive, both “Uncle” Peter and Ann seem to fade behind the outright wackiness of Sid Haig’s slobbering Ralphie and Jill Banner’s naughty Virginia, but pay close attention to just how much fun both actors have with their smaller roles. Redeker’s blissful sunniness makes him the truest innocent--a feat in itself amid madness, cannibalism, and near incest. Mitchel’s Ann is rather adorable, especially when she’s imitating Universal monsters or, as most the film, absolutely drunk. 

4. Music

How the opening theme song--sung by a sly Lon Chaney Jr. himself--never made it on a  juke box beside Monster Mash is beyond me. It’s an adorably macabre, cleverly worded ditty worthy of annual Halloween replays, daily ringtones, and wedding processionals. Likewise the film’s musical score--something I never really listened for the first two viewings--is equally playful and bombastically fun.

5. Sisterly Bonds

As Virginia and Elizabeth, and Jill Banner and Beverly Washburn are simply perfect. They bicker. They tattle. They pout. Occasionally, they drop their competitive snickering in order to protect big/little brother Ralphie or sweeten themselves up to dear old Bruno. In other words, they’re sisters, for better and worse. Although the raven haired Banner and petite blond Washburn share no physical resemblance, we never doubt for one instant that Virginia and Elizabeth share the most dramatically binding of all family bonds.

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There you have it. If you still haven’t seen Spider Baby, I will be sending my minions of black widows to your home to sit you down, spin webs around you and your Laz-E Boy, and insert the wonderfully featured (including a super cheerful commentary with the rightfully proud Hill & Haig) special edition into your DVD player for immediate viewing. Once watched, be sure to head over to Final Girl and busy yourself with a roundup of other reviews that damn well better heap mountains of praise upon Spider Baby with equal fervor. Otherwise, those black widows are going off their vegetarian diet and righting what’s wrong in the world.

Fair is Foul This Friday

Last Thursday marked the 445th birthday of one William Shakespeare. I imagine thou art wondering what this doth have to do with um, thou. Easy as a Cliffs Notes cheat sheet: The Bard not only mastered iambic pentameter, but he also created quite a few tales for modern horror filmmakers to make their own. 

Macbeth

Perhaps Shakespeare’s most famous tragedy is, conveniently enough, one of his bloodiest. Theatre geeks shudder in fear at the very sound of its name, while the audience gets treated to talk of a premature C-section 500 years before Inside and the kind of shriveled old witches that set the standard for side characters in films like Clash of the Titans and Deadtime Stories. Ghosts, child murderers, and one of the greatest female villains in fictional history round out the original work, so it’s not surprise that horror helmers have taken their shots at the ambitious lord and lady and their Scottish plotting. For a fairly faithful but also generously gory pick, I’d go with Roman Polanski’s 1971 adaptation. Shot two years after the horrific murder of Sharon Tate, Polanski’s Macbeth has a genuine darkness, squeezing the horror out of Shakespeare’s words and discarding some of the lighter moments. Heterosexual male viewers will be happy to learn that Playboy co-financed the film, resulting in some gratuitous (and some plot-required) female nudity.

Titus Andronicus

I don’t mean to assume anything about my readers, but if you’re a genre fan, am I correct in guessing you enjoy your share of cinematic cannibalism and dismemberment with the occasional rape and human sacrifice tossed in? If so, look no further than Julie Taymor’s 1999 visually gluttonous adaptation of Shakespeare’s first big hit. Some literary snobs have attempted to distance their beloved bard from penning the equivalent of Elizabethan exploitation, but Shakespeare’s elegant language and intricate storytelling is there, albeit to teach a lesson about vengeance with gruesome humor and black humor. Much like modern filmmakers who cut their teeth in the horror genre, young William broke out with this tale of Romans and Goths (historical, not Hot Topic-al) and Taymor spares no feelings or PG13 rating in ripping through the fall of a great general at the macabre bidding of a charismatic sociopath. Taymor brilliantly casts a tongue-in-cheek Anthony Hopkins, who basically channels Hannibal Lector after a few too many Chiantis. Yes, the words are Willy’s, but the Virgin Queen wouldn’t be wearing white to her non-existent wedding after watching this one.

Romeo & Juliet

What’s more horrifying than the film that made a star out of Claire Danes, essentially ending production of My So-Called Life and beginning the tragic de-hunkifying downward spiral of the man formerly known as Jordan Catalano? Okay, so Baz Lurhmann’s Florida rave-ish re-staging may not be what you’re looking for, but those trying to avoid memories of 9th grade English class need not fear: for every simple story with a title ripe for punning, there is a Lloyd Kauffman. That’s right: Tromeo & Juliet, a tale of forbidden romance with piggishly deformed lovers, is Troma Studio’s retelling of Shakespeare’s best known weepfest, with the characters you know and the gross-out humor you long for. It’s probably not the film to cite on your midterm, but it does provide more mutations than the typical high school production.

Othello

This is commonly known as Shakespeare’s racial drama, but my filmic recommendation ignores that aspect and focuses instead on the poisonous nature of jealousy and distrust. And roller skates. That’s right: bring on the Jezebels.  As Quentin Tarantino points out in the special edition DVD, Jack Hill’s 1975 Switchblade Sisters is a fairly straightforward re-imaging of Othello. The powerful yet insecure Lace takes on the part of the doomed Moor, as her Iago-esque friend Patch whispers suspicions in the gang leader’s little ear, forcing Lace to question new sister Maggie and her intentions towards Domonic’s Desdemona. True, Shakespeare didn’t script shootouts or forced nerd prostitution, but Switchblade Sisters proves that a good story is timeless--even if the fashion is not.

With the financial success of Pride and Prejudice and Zombies, I figure it’s only a matter of time before Hamlet is dusted off to be played by an angsty Twilight alum. In the meantime, feel classy and cultured the old fashioned way and share your thoughts below. Bonus points for anyone that puts their comments in sonnet form. 

This has gone well beyond the boundaries of prudence and good taste!

In honor of Valentine’s Day, I thought I’d make an announcement:


I’m in love.


It’s sudden, I know. Foolish, perhaps? But ladies and gentlemen, allow me to introduce the current fire in my lady loins:


Jack Hill's Spider Baby or The Maddest Story Ever Told (1968)

How is it possible that I survived 27 years without seeing this movie?



Somewhere in the boonies of California, the immensely huggable Lon Chaney Jr. plays Bruno, the sad faced, deep voiced caretaker to the, um, unusual Merrye children: Elizabeth, a short and sassy tattletale, the homicidal arachnoholic Virginia, and Ralphie, the canine man-child played by a young, skinny, and gloriously bald Sid Haig.

Life is merry in the gothic Merrye mansion; spiders are fed (and occasionally eaten), kittens are caught, and everyone has fun fooling around the dumbwaiter. Much like the colder, bloodier (and usually less funny) descendants of hillbilly horror, Spider Baby’s plot gets rolling with the intrusion of city folk to remind us that the Merryes are different. Isolation isn’t the problem; genetics is. Apparently the family is cursed with a disease that leads all the children who have reached the age of ten to slowly (or quickly, if they follow the Atkins diet) descend into a state of “pre-human savagery and cannibalism.” If Benjamin Button is anything like this, I’m changing my bet and saying it’s guaranteed the Best Picture win.

The invading urbanites include a Hitleresque lawyer named Schlocker and the uptight distant Merrye cousin Emily (you know she’s in for it because she has a tight bun and faux British accent), plus two nicer bland pretty people, all of whom are seeking a large inheritance from their savage kin. The children don’t take very kindly towards strangers (well, except Ralphie, who’s got a hard--I mean soft spot for the ladies). The inevitable dinner party and sleepover follow, gleefully complete with creeping tarantulas, incestuous seduction, Ms. Pacman style bows, Wolfman references, and, needless to say, loads of full-flavored fun.

High Points
The opening theme song makes me want to dip Chaney’s vocal cords in dark chocolate and eat them slowly. Not in a cannibalistic way or anything.


In his formalwear, Ralphie resembles Monty Burns whenever we see the tycoon as a child clad in knickers and Yankee Doodle Dandy hats


Elizabeth and Virginia, despite little physical resemblance between the actresses, are wonderfully believable as young sisters

Low Points
Drunk driving never looked so easy


Lessons Learned
Twine is really strong if tied correctly

Hearing “Aunt Emily!” shouted by knife wielding nieces makes me thankful that my little ladies refer to me exclusively as Auntie Em.


Uptight rich city blondes pack sexy lingerie when staying at long-lost relatives’ homes

Stray Observation
Anne, the Marilyn Munster of the party, is quite the lush (note the final scene)


Winning Line:
Elizabeth: Spiders don't eat other spiders.
Virginia: Cannibal spiders do.
I chose this one mainly because it reminds me of the sea monkeys I grew in college. When I ran out of their powdery nourishment, I tossed in a few bits of dry cat food. Within a day, the little tank was clouded and the sea monkeys were no more. A friend pointed out the error of my way: cat food is made of fish. Hence, I had unknowingly transformed my baby brine into cannibals. I’ve since developed two theories regarding the cause of this massacre: 1) they developed a taste for fish flesh and ended up eating each other to death or 2) upon devouring their ancestors, my little swimmers committed mass suicide out of shame and horror.


Rent/Buy/Bury:
Buy and cuddle with. This is horror comedy the way it should be done. Unique and pitch-perfect performances around the board, disturbing images that tickle like a spider’s spindly legs, and cheerfully self-aware dialogue to make you giggle. If this film doesn’t make you smile, your heat is made of stone that needs to be ground and served on a platter with rabbit and fungus. Nothing personal. It just is.


Right girls?