Cameron (Obnoxious and Anonymous) is gearing up for another Twin Peaks fan film along with fellow filmmaker Josh Eisenstadt, so that makes TWO new films! Black Rose: A Twin Peaks Fan Film and Teresa with a T are in the works right now; a campaign has already begun that could really benefit from our contributions. If you enjoyed Queen of Hearts: A Twin Peaks Fan Film (I went from full indifference toward Annie Blackburn to crying about her FFS), you will definitely appreciate two more stories about two mysterious Twin Peaks/FWWM ladies as well as crossover events with characters from season 3. Something tells me there may be a visit or two to our favorite north-of-the-border fun time establishment in one or both of these films . . .
Two films, for the price of one contribution! Contribute here: https://igg.me/at/teresa-rose and stay tuned! Follow Queenofhearts_twinpeaksfanfilm on instagram for updates!
My husband was watching this and I came in less than halfway through. I watched about thirty seconds of it and knew it was going to make me cry but of course I had to finish it. I won't spoil anything. I won't even describe any of the events that happen because it's just better to discover it your own way, uninformed (don't even google anything because the spoilers come up immediately). What I will say is, this is humanity, the way it should be.
My Octopus Teacher, 2020. d. Pippa Ehrlich and James Reed
Starring: Craig Foster
Summary: " A filmmaker forges an unusual friendship with an octopus living in a South African kelp forest, learning as the animal shares the mysteries of her world," (IMDB).
I think we all know people out there who walk around like Clint Eastwood characters, hating everything, scowling at everyone, but who are able to feel safe in showing kindness and love to animals. This film is important because Craig Foster shows us how to take that kindness and tenderness (which we may keep hidden) and take steps to share it outward, toward other humans, toward the land, and toward ourselves as well.
See others' existences. Protect the land, protect the seas. Allow yourself to feel and empathize. Take your humanity seriously and challenge yourself to do better.
When filmmaker Cameron Cloutier asked me to check out the early version of his film, Queen of Hearts: A Twin Peaks Fan Film, I was immediately interested. Doing re-watches of the Twin Peaks series along with Fire Walk With Me is something I do at least once every few years. Of course Mark Frost's books, The Secret History of Twin Peaks: A Novel and Twin Peaks: The Final Dossier have provided additional content to enjoy, but getting a chance to revisit the Twin Peaks aesthetic while experiencing the characters of Annie Blackburn and Caroline Powell (with several other familiar faces by their sides) in their own original stories was a very unique and exciting journey. Overall I think Queen of Hearts is a clever story with beautiful imagery and a ton of heart from its creator, cast, and crew.
Annie Blackburn (Madison Bates) is still the newly-crowned Miss Twin Peaks and her escape from The Black Lodge after being abducted by Windom Earl (Paul Griffith Springer) drives the majority of the film's events but she's not entirely on her own. Caroline Powell (Charlotte Roi), Earl's wife and move-for-move partner in eccentricity, enjoys a queen-like power over her husband, over a young and eager Agent Cooper (Nico Abiera), and over the developments that would eventually influence Cooper and Annie's experiences in the greater Twin Peaks narrative. Though woven together skillfully, Annie's and Caroline's stories are not just an afterward and beforehand of the original series but also entirely new adventures, themselves: Annie's are vulnerable, powerful, and linked strongly to Major Briggs (Larry Oblander, II); Caroline's are mysterious, worrisome, and linked to Cooper. Once we begin to understand these two queens we can appreciate their similarities, not just in relation to the men they pair with but in relation to things a whole lot bigger in general.
Central to the story is also the concept of place, and the visuals in each scene honor the Twin Peaks locations and landmarks we already know while also introducing new ones, just as interesting. Colors and patterns jump out and captivate while trees, bridges, and familiar signage bring intense feelings of nostalgia. The music choices enhance these visual experiences by offering a just-right balance between pop and instrumental, playful and serious. Though there are questions and impossibilities posed by the narrative, we are well-practiced members of this very specific fandom and we can handle them, always in good hands with these skillful technical elements while waiting for answers and enjoying each aesthetic moment.
Most Twin Peaks fans have their favorites, who they love, who intrigues them, who they want to be. Personally I never really connected to Annie Blackburn as a character before, as a younger viewer I spent most of my time rotating my interest between Laura Palmer's power and Lucy's outfits. After this journey and in taking in the overall theme of the film (no spoilers!), there is definitely a connection, now. This was a fun, inspiring film, and I'm glad to know Annie's out there, much bigger now than any of us ever knew. Here's to the next adventure!
After David Lynch's Wild at Heart, this film probably had the most influence over me as a viewer and a future film writer. I had seen plenty of edge-y films by the time this rolled around thanks to both of my parents being Stephen King fans and my dad really digging Clint Eastwood. Of course I'd seen love stories like The Princess Bride, The Bodyguard, and Pretty Woman. But seeing a film like this (and Wild at Heart), an edge-y, violent love story was an entirely new experience and one that showed me that films weren't always just entertainment, they could be so much more. I watched True Romance, probably cried, and then decided these were the kinds of films I wanted to see, forever. Little did I know how much influence the writer of this film would eventually have on me, years later!
True Romance, 1993 d. Tony Scott
You're so cool!
Written by: Quentin Tarantino
Starring: Christian Slater, Patricia Arquette, Michael Rapaport, Dennis Hopper, James Gandolfini, Christopher Walken, Brad Pitt, Bronson Pinchot, Gary Oldman, Christopher Penn, Tom Sizemore, Saul Rubinek, Val Kilmer
Summary: "In Detroit, a lonely pop culture geek marries a call girl, steals cocaine from her pimp, and tries to sell it in Hollywood. Meanwhile, the owners of the cocaine, the Mob, track them down in an attempt to reclaim it," (IMDB).
What's better than a good drug deal story? Drugs always add such an exciting, naughty element. Is someone addicted (Less Than Zero)? Are they concealing the drugs inside other objects like coffee grounds (Beverly Hills Cop) or toy statues (Traffic) or hiding them in a baby's diaper (Three Men and a Baby)? In the 3D Friday the Thirteenth sequel (part three), they actually ate the drugs to get rid of the evidence. Yes I realize these examples are cheesy and there are many better ones, but whatever, DRUGS! Here Clarence (Slater) obtains a suitcase of drugs while tendering his new wife Alabama's (Arquette) resignation from the world of prostitution and whoops, turns out the mafia wants that suitcase back.
Clarence has an actor friend out in LA, Dick Ritchie (Rapaport) who thinks he might be able to sell the drugs, but whoops, the director he has in mind has an assistant who just got busted for possession himself and is eventually roped into wearing a wire in order to expose the drug deal. Things get . . . violent. Turns out no one has my sense of humor when it comes to drugs.
In terms of technique, think of the two most dissimilar places in America (such as Detroit, Michigan and Hollywood, California) and you'll have the basics of the contrasts at play in this film. And yes, these two locations are used as the settings for the story, so it's like, literal. The gray and gritty influences are Drexl (Oldman), Vincenzo (Walken) and his mafia henchmen which include a young Tony Soprano himself, James Gandolfini, and Clifford Worley, Clarence's father (Hopper) as well as the vehicles, run down apartments, and unpleasant weather. This Detroit and most who inhabit it are not living lives of optimism.
In Hollywood, the mood, the colors, and the characters all shift radically: we get palm trees, neons, and big personalities all bathed in the California sunshine. The spaces are interesting---fancy hotels, old school drive-thu restaurants, and an amusement park. Even Dick Ritchie's apartment, made more appealing by the illustrious stoner, Floyd (Pitt), is exciting because of its location presumably among other would-be actors' pads and for the action it sees during the film. Also because drugs.
Transcending the lights and darks and haves/have-nots of the mise en scene, the pop music chosen shows Clarence's link to coolness (as Alabama will later write on her little napkin while Clarence "does business") and arguable mental instability in the secret Elvis communication that happens at crucial decision-making moments. The steel-drum/synthesizer light-hearted motif that comes and goes throughout the film seems to be pure Alabama, her optimism, her acceptance, and her childlike nature, assuring us that no matter how difficult things get it will all turn out fine in the end. In this way, Clarence and Alabama, through their personalities and their naivety, are the wild cards --contained by neither gritty Detroit nor sunny Los Angeles-- who are allowed to travel between places and ultimately outsmart the agents of both.
The racial insults in Clifford's story to the Sicilians are difficult and upsetting to hear. There's more difficulty near the end when the two cops make rape jokes to Eliot (Pinchot) and added racial epitaphs during the fated hotel meeting with Donowitz (Rubinek). Tarantino writes about unsavory characters, after all, but these moments are still disturbing. Would that these criminals were not so problematic. And obviously it goes without saying that this film is not going to appeal to everyone for these and other reasons, but I still think it has a lot of heart under all its offensive moments. That said if this one gets under your skin, you definitely don't want to go any further in Tarantino's body of work. If you ask me, this story (Alabama in particular) is nothing more than what his answer would be if someone back in the early 90s asked him to describe his ideal date, and I get it. I like most of all this, too, I just don't want to actually GO there.
Gotta love that wisdom ala Vivianne in Pretty Woman "she rescues him right back," ending, right? Wins like this for women weren't too common, even in the 90s. What a gal. Look for her reference in Reservoir Dogs soon after this film (Hell of a woman, good little thief!).
I watched two films last week that I really thought I liked as a teenager but that unfortunately haven't held up for me the same way as an adult viewer, Soapdish (1991) and Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure (1989). My kids watched with me and said the former was weird but loved the latter.
Maybe "haven't held up" is the wrong way to describe what I mean. I loved both of these films as a teenager, as in really loved them to the point of obsession, and now, the age I am now I realize that I must have really had a thing for outlandish, ZANY stories. Not smash hit award-winners, but, you know, excessive stories. Fun stories. Stories with memorable moments that I think about 20 years later.
Like this: Sally Field is amazing in everything she does (my kids know her as Maggie, Abby's mother from ER) but I think her physical comedy in Soapdish is brilliant. Hanging off the drain pipe outside the apartment, kicking and flailing her legs on the couch talking to Rose (Whoopie Goldberg), and the GRADE A FREAKOUT on the set when she sees the attempted kiss between her ex (Kevin Kline) and her daughter (Elizabeth Shue).
They way they just calmly lift her off him! Teri Hatcher's HAIR. Next to the turban situation early on in the film, this was Maggie's best rant.
Bill and Ted was a different kind of outlandish, I think the budget was probably a lot lower and it was marketed (and scripted) to win over teenagers, not adults, but it's still fun. The special effects are fine for the time, I guess, the settings were basic but effective. Overall both then and now, I loved any of the music that was not performed by Bill or Ted, themselves. The song during Napoleon's time at the waterpark, Beethoven's synthesizer grind at the mall, and my favorite, Robbie Rob's "In Time," which played during their travel to the futuristic place with the blue shadows and the air-guitar strumming citizens. I remember watching this at home when it came out on video and rewinding the scene just so I could hear the song again. I'm reminded of it every time my kids play "Cliffs of Dover" on Guitar Hero, just because both songs give me a similar late 80s fun guitar vibe.
So even though I wouldn't count either one of these as my favorite films, I feel like these scenes will stay with me forever, being so memorable and personally pleasing in almost a flashbulb memory kind of way. Do others have this? I think come by this pretty easily because I was taught to. Not simply because I was brought up in a family that was always watching and rewatching films but because the only time my father, a very stern, not outgoing or humorous man in any form, allowed his actual personality to show was in regard to film, music, or television. I never saw him cry from sadness, but the first time I saw him laugh himself into tears was during the scene in The Cannonball Run where the motorcycle bursts into the restaurant through the wall, zips by everyone, and busts out the opposite wall. Everyone just stands around confused and Sammy Davis Junior goes, "What in the hell was THAT?" Ditto the reaction and add my mother after the "Flying Shithouse" pigeon kick in Cat's Eye. I think they laughed (and bawled) for a solid half hour after that one.
My brother always enjoyed the close up shot of the tire on Christine just after Moochie innocently calls out (to whom he thinks is Arnie), "Hey, you ain't mad, are ya?" and the car attacks with a squeal. He also made my best friend rewind the shot of Joan Wilder swinging across the river and landing with a plop on Romancing the Stone a ridiculous number of times. I think we all enjoyed the "Mrs. Peacock was a MAN?" double-slap of Mr. Green in Clue.
I think if my dad were still alive, he'd really love Lebowski's dumpster collision, although it's hard to say if it would evoke any tears from laughter. Personally I love the rhythmic roof-of-the-car slapping to Creedence that happens just before that, punctuated with Larry Sellers' poorly graded homework sheet to close out the scene.
The forgotten Netflix disks from the 2010s continue to arrive. Clearly I was on a kick. And for the record, I would watch Rupert Friend in anything.
The Young Victoria 2009.
d. Jean-Marc Vallée, written by Julian Fellowes
Starring: Emily Blunt, Rupert Friend, Paul Bettany
Summary: "A dramatization of the turbulent first years of Queen Victoria's rule, and her enduring romance with Prince Albert," (IMDB).
This was a chill, wholesome, Jimmy Carter-calibre story of leadership. I'd say most Americans could use something like this for a palate cleanser, as in, look, see? AREN'T THESE NICE, SMART PEOPLE? Aren't their problems and hiccups just sort of . . . CHARMING? There's something gratifying about Victoria (Emily Blunt) assuming the crown, marrying someone she loved, and then going on to have nine children with relatively little drama. The bumps in the road seemed to stem from men's desire to control the crown (we fans of The Crown are well-versed in this, girl ruler = ignorant, gullible + needs a man to manage for her) but Victoria handles her adversaries quite skillfully despite her youth and inexperience. Everything looks gorgeous, a ton of Game of Thrones and Harry Potter alum are scattered throughout (also hi there Vision!), and bonus for Prince Albert grinding those Schubert piano pieces! I think this may have been one of my favorite period pieces about royals, ever.
Rupert Friend as Prince Albert was a soothing balm to my soul. Lovely appearance, a bit of that brooding but stifled romantic vibe we came to love from Quinn in Homeland, and German accent very nicely done. I loved the understated almost shy chemistry between Friend and Blunt; how refreshing to see an actually functional relationship between two intelligent people in power. Too little, too late, I realize, but has Prince Charles seen this? Someone should give him notes.
Hitman: Agent 47, 2015.
d. Aleksander Bach, written by: Skip Woods (story and screenplay, based on video game by Morton Iverson and Peter Gjellerup Koch).
Summary: "An assassin teams up with a woman to help her find her father and uncover the mysteries of her ancestry," (IMDB).
Apparently people didn't like this film. I don't know what everyone's problem is, I had a great time. It's not your everyday action film, the stars are largely lesser known, some of the dialogs are a little blunt and clunky, and the premise does seem a little far-fetched when you think about it, but don't think about it! Just relax and enjoy the ride! You get some nice fight choreography, different international locations, energetic music, and clever evasive maneuvers and strategies. This is something I might have found back in the day on a cable station and been unable to turn off. Will the experience be made better under the influence of a substance or several drinks? Very likely, yes, but being as I'm judge-sober these days, I had a perfectly decent experience without. What did I like best about it? Colors. Conspiracy walls. Stern characters. An elevated kind of knowing that stood in for traditional "super powers." Rupert Friend as a villain.
I thought the little twists in the plot were good ones that matched the overall vibe of the characters, and the chases, fights, and environments were visually appealing enough to keep me engaged. This is not a film where the characters banter cleverly with each other or use humor really at all, but it's a straight-forward, solve-the-problem technological action thriller. I think if you're patient with it, it's a good enough film.
I'm a pretty easy audience because I don't think I've ever met a Batman I didn't like. And for the record, Burton's vehicles are the best! Batmobile sleek and long; Joker's cars for his team pink bodies with green tops and CHRISTMAS LIGHTS IN THE BACK WINDOWS!
Batman, 1989 d. Tim Burton
written by Bob Kane (Batman Characters) and Sam Hamm (Story and Screenplay)
Starring: Michael Keaton, Jack Nicholson, Kim Basinger, Jack Palance, Billy Dee Williams, Pat Hingle, Robert Wuhl
Summary: "The Dark Knight of Gotham City begins his war on crime with his first major enemy being Jack Napier, a criminal who becomes the clownishly homicidal Joker," (IMDB)
There's a lot of background for this "review." It was the summer of 1989, I was thirteen, and this film was everywhere. We started seeing ads, were treated to Prince's "Batdance" on MTV and the radio, and soon, the merchandise arrived, even in our tiny town! Bat cards. Bat earrings. Black T-shirts with the golden bat emblem. Because the theater was thirty miles away, we had to carefully coordinate how and when we would get to see the film, not only because of the distance and needing to be driven, but because the showings were sold out for weeks on end. In the meantime, we took solace in watching the old sixties show with Adam West and Burt Ward on cable.
As I had been too young for Star Wars in the theater, Tim Burton's Batman would be my first blockbuster experience and I was intent on milking the event to the absolute maximum. I got the shirt; my BFF Erica got dangly bat earrings. We both stalked Food N' Fuel daily with my 9-year-old brother to collect the entire series of Bat Cards. We taped Batdance both from MTV and the radio. I remember walking mornings over to the kids I was babysitting and anticipating the entire time during the swim lessons and playtime at the park for their eventual afternoon naptime when I'd get to see Prince and the half-bat, half-joker getup in front of that epic synthesizer setup (I had no idea what "lemme stick the 7-inch in the computer," meant then, but assumed it was something naughty). I remember the week I finally got to go to the film in Willmar, Minnesota so fully I can picture how the sky looked, how the temperature was in the high eighties, and how I wore my hair (bangs, big, courtesy of Rave, non-aerosol, level 4).
It was a case of piecing together scenes from the cards, at first anyway, since I had them all and looked at them often enough to have memorized the images and the titles from scenes in the film (i.e., "Eckhardt, Think About the Future" or "No Deals, Grissom!") But the cards were tiny and didn't come with music so seeing it all on a theater screen was better than I ever could have imagined. It was the first film experience I remember where I wasn't even halfway through it and I found myself wishing it would never end. If I had been able to turn around and watch it a second time directly after the first, I would have.
The aesthetics and the music were most impressive to me, even at thirteen. I didn't yet recognize the goth, shadowy Burton-esque environments or the preoccupation with machinery but I was blown away by the way loud colors stood in for the Joker's evil with greens, purples, and oranges and how darkness was actually linked to goodness. I wasn't familiar with any of composer Danny Elfman's other scores yet, but I loved the contrast between the heroic Batman theme and the sort of bumbling orchestral descents given to the Joker's antics, dotted with Prince's music on streets and in the museum. I knew who Michael Keaton was, I knew who Jack Nicholson was, and I loved them both every minute they were on screen. Kim Basinger was new, but I loved her, too, and modeled my hair (poorly) after her as Vicky for years after this, tiny braid and all. Everyone was so iconic. It was all so exciting!
I came out of that theater into the hot sun and wondered how I could take the feelings I had just experienced during that film and turn them into something, some kind of involvement, or project. Something that I could preserve and love and revisit that could last my entire life.
We watched Burton's Batman as a family a few nights ago. I tried to explain how meaningful the film was to my kids in an abbreviated version of what I've just written, above, and my teenage daughter interrupted about halfway through--- "Are you seriously CRYING OVER BATMAN?"
(yes, I was).
My best friend Erica had this poster hanging in her room for years. (LOVE THAT JOKER!)
So it took me a while to figure out how to write about this film, one I've loved for most of my life. A way which would allow me to celebrate the good parts but also discuss what I consider to be two highly problematic scenes and one missed opportunity. Here's what I came up with:
Revenge of the Nerds,1984 d. Jeff Kanew
Written by: Tim Metcalfe, Miguel Tejada-Flores, Steve Zacharias, Jeff Buhai (story)
and Steve Zacharias and Jeff Buhai (screenplay)
Summary: At Adams College, a group of bullied outcasts and misfits resolve to fight back for their peace and self-respect (IMDB).
The Good Things:
Gilbert (Anthony Edwards), Booger's crass comedy when not aimed toward Lamar or the Omega Mus, Ogre (Donald Gibb) as an effective 45-year-old man-bully, all names of characters in general, the montage sequence of fixing up the yellow house, the loophole into Lambda's provisional chartership, the awkwardness of the party (pre-wonderjoints), the music, the revenge involving liquid heat upon the Alpha Betas, the Greek games, and the winning skit performance
1. The violation of the women in the Pi House: recording their nudity, sharing it among the group and then stamping Betty Childs' (Julie Montgomery) naked likeness onto the pie plate for the charity fundraiser
2. The manipulation of Betty Childs in the moon room that resulted in her engaging in sexual relations with Lewis to which she did not consent because of the Darth Vader mask hiding his identity.
Now. These two things were definitely what earned the film's R rating and were probably the parts most teenagers wanted to see, but I think it could have been done with more respect and less violating. For instance, have the panty-raid go off as performed, allow Lewis/Gilbert/Poindexter to surprise the respective women in their underwear or topless, then, done. Haha, naked girls funny, now we go home. No taping. No Betty Childs boob stamp. True, it's still a violation of sorts, no one wants to be seen naked by random creeps who have invaded their living quarters, but in the end, it's more of a "we're horny and curious" kind of violation (as in Porky's) and not a precursor to revenge porn one.
The moon room could still work, but somehow have Betty get the mask off forcing Lewis to plead his case to Betty which would allow her to consent. "If I'm not the best lay in all of Adams College . . . " or something like that. She gets to decide. If she says no, whatever, Lewis tried. He still could go on with the rest of the Tri-Lambs to win the festival and take over the Greek council, maybe even hook up with that brunette with the long side pony and pink prom dress from the party again. If she says yes, keep things the same as they were: Lewis is a sexual legend (presumably at items other than fraternity jack-rabbiting ala Stan Gable), Betty falls in love, and everyone lives happily ever after.
Allowing Lewis, one of the film's heroes, to successfully rape Betty by deception makes him worse than any of the Alpha Betas. As far as we know (and this is a big assumption, I get it) none of them raped anyone by coercion. Although the existence of that sheep for initiation purposes concerns me . . .
And I know this wasn't on anyone's radar back in 1984, because consent and women's safety were not even afterthoughts and wouldn't be until DECADES later, but they should have been. Even if the entire theme of the film was about bullying and revenge, the idea that nerds deserve to be treated kindly pretty much loses its power if it only applies to men. Take the differences between Betty Childs and Judy (Michelle Meyrink), Gilbert's love interest.
Betty is aesthetically pleasing, desirable, and leader of her sorority. She is skilled at:
1. Bad shoulder dancing at the fated Alpha Beta "fireball" party
2. Recording the minutes at the Greek Council meeting as secretary
3. Singing off-key "Old Mac Donald"
4. Snapping fingers and rocking back and forth while cheering "ooh, ahh, Alpha Beta!" at Greek Games
5. Having high sex drive (Stan claims she's "like a goat" at charity fundrasier)
So to summarize, not smart, not talented, but interesting because she's pretty and sexual. It doesn't take a ton of thought to realize that she's the prize to be won, here.
Judy, on the other hand is not aesthetically pleasing and is good at nothing. She's kind and empathetic, but that gets her very little, value-wise. Her shortcomings:
1. Having no computer skills despite being clearly in the nerd camp
2. Awkward
3. Not especially memorable or clever in any way
4. (And this is the one that gets me): BAD AT ACCORDION
Make no mistake, I'm not faulting a beginning musician for being bad at their chosen instrument, I'm upset that Judy, as a character, couldn't have ONE thing she was good at. It was a missed opportunity not letting that happen. She matched the physical aesthetic of all the other nerds, so that wasn't a huge deal, and Gilbert seemed to really be into her, allowing her to become desirable, at least to him. In contrasting Judy with Poindexter (also a terrible instrumentalist), we see his intelligence but never hers. She doesn't even get to be clever ala saving the group by a deep dive into the Lambda's by-laws (Poindexter's win) or helping in any way that involves wit unless you count her idea to bring over the Omega Mus, which really paved the way for hella mean comments and provided the focus of the Alpha Beta/Sisters of Pi Old MacDonald mockery with the pigs. Annoying.
If Judy was allowed to be the nerd version of Betty Childs, she should have been smart and capable. If not an equal in the computer lab, she should have been a WIZARD on that fucking accordion. Having Judy be unimpressive and blah might be closer to reality (there are unimpressive, blah people everywhere), but it just seems skewed, giving female viewers little choice between that blah-ness and Betty Childs' existence as an accessory for men to pass around. Looking at the poster for the film, you wouldn't even know Judy exists because she was not given a placement in it.
Cameron (Obnoxious and Anonymous) and I chatted about the film about a month ago where these and many other concerns were addressed. We both really enjoy the film overall and I think were pretty surprised at how many different directions our discussion ended up going (I only ranted hard once, about right-wing creativity in light of the Alpha Betas "Mr. Touchdown" homecoming skit). Check the video out, below:
And if you're still yearning for more, check out Ian Crouch's piece for The New Yorker on how Revenge of the Nerds culture played into the Brett Kavanaugh situation, which I absolutely love (that this article exists, not that the topic it examines happened).
Once upon a time, I was an undergraduate in a graduate-level film class at the U of M. One of the projects in the class involved the grad students going out and filming the concepts we were learning about and then bringing back the footage to then "mentor" the undergrads with. One of the grads (who already considered himself MIGHTILY above us all) took this very seriously and used his footage as an opportunity to lecture us for over an hour. The footage was nothing special, something a child could have pointed a camera at and shot, a bunch of buildings in downtown St. Paul in the middle of winter strung together at random. We watched, unimpressed. Next, he showed us the same images a second time but against a soundtrack of some big band jazz song, asking us to pay special attention to how the experience was different this time around. We watched, still unimpressed. I did not share my reaction with the class (because I'm not mean) but if I had, it would have been: Uninteresting, basic images and then uninteresting, basic images set to music. Got it. The music didn't really stand for anything, it wasn't being used ironically, but the images and the music together definitely made for a better viewing experience. If anything it was a way for this person to appear to know what he was doing. TL,DR: music is a powerful tool in filmmaking.
Does this have anything to do with St. Elmo's Fire? A little. Obviously Joel Schumacher is leagues more knowledgeable than the grad student in my story (who has since become a professor). Adding arbitrary music won't save a project from its own badness, but adding good music and positioning it at just the right moments can make a film come off as skilled and memorable and can do a lot of heavy emotional lifting where the script may fall short.
St. Elmo's Fire, 1985. d. Joel Schumacher
starring: Demi Moore, Rob Lowe, Andrew McCarthy, Emilio Estevez, Ally Sheedy, Judd Nelson, Mare Winningham
Summary: "A group of friends, just out of college, struggle with adulthood." IMDB
This story embodies perfectly what my childhood idea of post-college life would be like. As I was a nine-year-old child living in a rural midwestern town when it came out, I didn't know much, but I knew I wanted to be like these cats. Bar-hopping with the same group of friends, quirky apartments, a group CHANT, you know, those kinds of things. I learned of the film from seeing trailers on television and from John Parr's music video for "Man in Motion" on MTV but I was not yet allowed to see R rated films in the theater, so I lived for the little glimpses from these. Imagine my joy when a friend of my mother's (at some posh lake house we were at the next summer) had St. Elmo's Fire on VHS! At ten, I thought I'd died and gone to heaven (read: Rob Lowe 80s aesthetic) but more than that, I still thought these people were cool as hell. Also, I wanted to learn that piano theme terribly. It wasn't at all realistic, I later learned, but as a cultural piece of white people in the 80s and a story about friendship, it still holds up. I still listen to the soundtrack, regularly, regrettably missing is the fated let's-rock-in-conversational-tone-bar-piece, "One Love," performed by Billy Hixx and The New Breed,** but it still slaps, as the kids say.
The film opens with the crew walking away from a frat house building in graduation caps and gowns and quickly transitions to the aftermath of a car accident in an emergency room. As the group of friends is SO close-knit and still BFFS even after graduating college we see that when one of their own gets injured, they drop what they're doing to be with her in her time of need. This also serves as exposition to who everyone is, what they do, and how they're linked to each other:
Wendy (Winningham): the injured. Frumpy, virginal, rich parents (loves Billy)
Billy (Lowe): drunk companion of Wendy, cause of accident. Plays saxophone, hyper-sexual
Jules (Moore): hot pink evening gown and stole. Eccentric, glamorous, wild
Kirby (Estevez): in waiter's uniform. Stays to flirt with doctor, romantic and hopeful
Kevin (McCarthy): trench coat and camo pants. Pessimistic writer who throws out random deep thoughts (secretly in love with Leslie)
Leslie (Sheedy): sensible businesswoman. Responsible, shows empathy (lives with Alec)
Alec (Nelson): young political strategist. Type A, bossy, former democrat, now a republican (lives with Leslie)
After Wendy is discharged from the hospital, lamenting the state of her car, they all go to St. Elmo's Bar to drink more (as one does in the aftermath of a drunk driving accident). On goes the story, showing us bits of the characters' professional lives and more of their relationships with each other. A party, thrown by Kirby at the fancy estate of his employer, serves as an explosive turning point where many of the group's dramatic issues (Alec's infidelities, Kevin's love for Leslie, Kirby's A-level stalking prowess, and the beginnings of Jules's downfall in a thwarted confession to Billy) are revealed, and suddenly, things aren't so sunny anymore. Post-college adulthood is, to use Billy's preferred phrasing, more "out of hand" than any of them anticipated.
Technically, the film is solid. The fall scenery, the collegiate settings (meant to portray Georgetown but actually shot on the University of Maryland's campus), and the huge height-of-the-80s apartments are all appealing throughout. The casting is perfect, everyone is attractive, and the pacing of the story, pretty fast-paced, moves along well with every character's unique struggles and interactions with others. The music elevates the experience, no matter where it's used. Even the seemingly throwaway conversation Alec and Leslie have over which albums she's allowed to take when she moves out drives the point that this era, this music, even the music choices of the characters (or their musical abilities)---all are very meaningful. In my opinion, you cannot have a discussion of this film and its place within 80s culture without honoring these music choices.
Hungry for more? Cameron of Obnoxious and Anonymous (@ObnoxandAnony) and I sat down for a nice long chat about St. Elmo's fire yesterday. Let us know what you think about it!
**The song, as well as the clip from the film of Billy performing it (LET'S ROCK) is showcased beautifully over on UncleTNuc! You can find it HERE
This was a Netflix DVD viewing. Back when I was still on Facebook, this was suggested as a good foreign film for my project. Having read another book the same author Fredrik Backman had done, I actually have this novel on a list somewhere as a to-be-read and recognized the title. I was a bit annoyed with at first, to be honest. How many stories are there already about crabby old white men, and do we really need another one? The early half of this film was very sour, very depressing (if you do end up watching, TW: suicide[s]), and overall didn't do much to engage me other than to remind me of a very similar crabby old dude, Norwegian not Swedish, who used to come into the Blockbuster Video I worked at in Uptown apparently just to leave his car directly in the through area of the parking lot and to yell at everyone. However. The film definitely shifted in mood and depth once Ove's younger years were explained, and I ended up in a puddle of tears by the end of it.
A Man Called Ove, 2015. d. Hannes Holm
Written by Hannes Holm (screenplay) and Fredrik Backman (novel)
Starring: Rolf Lassgård, Bahar Pars, Filip Berg
Summary: Ove, an ill-tempered, isolated retiree who spends his days enforcing block association rules and visiting his wife's grave, has finally given up on life just as an unlikely friendship develops with his boisterous new neighbors. (via IMDB)
Like I said, we've all experienced stories of crabby old people being crabby, having crabby interactions with other people who just sort of tolerate the crabby person's crabbiness as some sort of endearing quirk, and honestly, I do feel like it's overdone (see: All Clint Eastwood). The bigger picture here of course is that many people also live lives that have been ripe with disappointment and loss, and that while we (as viewers) may not agree with someone's constant crabbiness and mistreatment of others, we are able to understand that disappointment and loss will shape someone's worldview and learn not to judge so quickly. Hand-in-hand with this, we also see the negative effects of isolationism, learning that while we may never be able to stop the disappointment and loss that is inevitable in the human experience, we can embrace togetherness through relationships in order to help each other through these events.
Shorter reaction: Ove (Rolf Lassgard) is unpleasant and treats people badly, but we eventually forgive him for this once we understand him better. Our getting to empathize with him coincides with Ove's own gradual thawing through his relationship with his neighbor, Parvaneh (Bahar Pars).
The story itself isn't necessarily rooted in Swedish culture, it could well have taken place anywhere, really, but there are little bits of time and place that do stick out, adding to the viewing experience. The Swedish countryside is beautiful, shown several times during young Ove's car trips with his father, and the obsession over Saabs (NOT VOLVOS) is relatable for car folks, I'm guessing. The time and place makes a big difference when considering Ove's wife Sonja (Ida Engvoll), and her experiences as a special education teacher. There weren't any ramps for those who needed them and it was difficult for children to get their needs met before medicine and education recognized what those needs really were. It's good to see attention brought to the struggles of people who are disabled, just as it's good to see some visibility on immigration and homosexuality (despite his many other issues with people in his residence community, Ove praises Parvaneh for her strength and resiliency in having fled her native country and provides shelter for a young gay man whose father has kicked him out). It seems Ove's heart is good, he just would rather not show anyone.
It's a wholesome, emotional story, perfect for a quarantined Thanksgiving. Give it a try.
Back in 2003, I was a film student at the University of Minnesota. During a May-term American Studies class I made friends with another younger student who noticed a Matrix book I was carrying with me; we had many conversations about the film trilogy and she told me about this animated series, The Animatrix. I had not seen any anime before, renting this disk (probably at Hollywood on Hennepin Ave) was my first experience with it. I definitely enjoyed some of the following shorts more than others at the time, but I have never forgotten two very specific scenes from the first and second parts of The Second Renaissance. My two older kids were watching with me this time around; they were both equally disturbed by the seriousness of what they saw in these episodes, too. I think the order of the sequences is a good one; I had forgotten about what goes down in Matriculated, but after seeing it again, agree with its placement as the last story. It's not outwardly hopeful, exactly, but the idea it explores plants a pretty important problem-solving seed in terms of humanity fixing its destructive choices. I wish this didn't seem as timely or as relevant as it currently does, but here we are.
The Animatrix, 2003.
"The Animatrix is a 2003 American–Japanese animated science fiction anthology film produced by the Wachowskis. It is a compilation of nine animated short films based on The Matrix trilogy, which was written and produced by the Wachowskis. Four of the shorts were also written by the Wachowskis. The film details the backstory of The Matrix series, including the original war between humankind and machines which led to the creation of the titular Matrix." (Wikipedia)
1. Final Flight of the Osirus, written by The Wachowskis, directed by Andy Jones.
Beginning with a sexually-tense spar on the Osirus hovercraft, Thaddeus and his first mate, Jue, (inside the contructs of The Matrix) must unplug quickly when sentinals show up. After a chase, the crew of the Osirus soon discover more sentinels directly above Zion with drilling equipment poised to dig straight down. While the Osirus and its crew is ultimately destroyed, a message sent by Jue to warn Zion is successful (and is referenced verbally by Niobe in The Matrix Reloaded).
A sweet, short little tale about love among soldiers in battle. Good use of color in the opening spar scene; characters very attractive. If you've seen The Matrix trilogy, which chances are, you will have if you're watching these, or even if you're just paying close attention, it's clear pretty early on (and considering the title) this will not end well. Unfortunate, but it's to-the-point and full of action.
2. The Second Renaissance part 1, based on material written by The Wachowskis, directed by Mahiro Maeda.
How did The Matrix become? Better yet, what events led to its creation? This story and its follow-up (below) explain. To summarize, mankind's greed, vanity, and corruption led to the creation of a race of computers to serve as domestic slaves and general lower working class. Made in man's image, these machines saw themselves as equals to human beings, or "real." When a domestic machine, BI66-ER (in a reference to Native Son's Bigger Thomas) was threatened with destruction by its human master, BI66-ER commits murder. This act and the subsequent lawsuit and ruling inspires the mass destruction of the machines, who resist and beg for mercy. Human beings, unwilling to acknowledge the machines' "realness" or right to exist among them, banish the remaining machines to an area in the Middle East, where they create their own civilization named 0-1. In contrast to humankind, the machines prosper well together.
There are some very disturbing scenes in this piece together with its second part (the photo I used below is actually from one of the end scenes of this story but I felt it set the stage well for what was to come in part two). The bottom line in both stories is an upsetting one, one that I see unfolding today in 2020 American culture: the greed, vanity, and corruption that everyone wrote off as "individualism" or "the free market at work" has created a culture of hateful people who have no capacity for empathy. Now, someone might rightly accuse me of taking a bleeding heart liberal approach in trying to tie this into a fictional story about ROBOTS of all things, but I'll stand firm. You have to be a certain kind of person to abuse an animal just like you have to be a certain kind of person to see another human (or in this case, humanoid-looking being) as a thing, a mean to your own selfish end. Dehumanization of the enemy was used as a tactic in more than one war, after all, but unfortunately for us, it didn't stop there. Groups of people dehumanize each other every day.
While the animation and storyboards used here are quite skillful (think Metropolis with more color and violence) I think this story overall is a very cerebral one. It showcases the dehumanization concept in multiple ways, but most clearly in the scene (pictured above) that shows the gleeful kicking, bludgeoning, and ripping of clothes from a humanoid (done by a group of men to a female-featured machine) as the victim pleads with her assailants to stop, crying out, "I'm real!" This is very upsetting, I know, but the point here is to show us behaviors and assumptions that hurt because these things matter and because we, as humans, sometimes need a mirror held up to our own shittiness. Empathy, whether it's toward human beings, animals, or any other sentient or non-sentient elements, matters. Clearly (looking around and gesturing vaguely at everything happening) it's an idea that needs more emphasis.
3. The Second Renaissance part 2, based on material written by The Wachowskis, directed by Mahiro Maeda.
Human beings unfortunately do not learn anything from the aforementioned unwillingness to coexist peacefully with the machines, despite the machines' desire (pictured left) to join the United Nations and to teach humans better, stronger methods in technology and economic advances. A war between the two sides begins, and Operation Dark Sky explains in detail what Morpheus meant back when he told Neo in The Matrix that the humans had "scorched the sky." The machines outwit the humans by creating the matrix and by using fields of people, not the sun's energy, as their power sources.
Everything being explored in part one is just as present here, but with the added bonus of a resolution: These are the illustrated failures of diplomacy as spurred by human ignorance and lack of empathy. How relevant. The two Renaissance pieces are in my opinion, the very best in this collection.
4. Kid's Story, based on material written by The Wachowskis, directed by Shinichiro Watanabe.
Story of "Kid," the eager would-be soldier from The Matrix Reloaded and The Matrix Revolutions, who despite crediting Neo with his salvation from the matrix, actually saved himself.
This story reads a lot differently now that it did, initially. Teenagers on computers, depressed and alone, are a lot more common now than twenty years ago. My heart aches for them, then and now. Skateboarding scenes a little overblown, but tension well done among Kid, the teacher bucky about the ringing cell phone, and eventually, the agents (who like in A Detective Story, which I'll write up in a second installment), seem way slower and much more dense than in the films). Leaving us with a positive message on the computer screen---"You are not alone,"---was a balm to my soul. I feel like even then, we (as in Americans) should have been taking better care of the kids . . .
5. Program, written and directed by Yoshiaki Kawajiri.
Cis, a highly skilled swordswoman battles her mentor (and lover?) Duo inside a construct program of the matrix but after learning Duo is no longer interested in "red pill honesty" must choose whether to join him in leaving the real world or fight to the death in the artificial one.
This story is pretty short and to the point, but the style and aesthetic is pretty breathtaking throughout. If you've seen The Twilight Zone you'll appreciate the ending, very "Where is Everybody?", but with a successful resolution and a badass female protagonist. Another short and effective little story that captivates with its images.
6. World Record, written by Yoshiaki Kawajiri, directed by Takeshi Koike.
After having his Olympic gold medal revoked due to drug use, world record-holding track star Dan Davis attempts to return to competition. The intensity of the race causes Davis to rupture muscles in his legs, drawing the attention of three agents within the stadium, but Davis continues his frantic pace, coming in just under his previous world record. During the race, a sentinel in the real world senses irregularities in the pod where Davis is plugged into the matrix. When Davis returns to consciousness he is confined to a wheelchair but despite the machines' best efforts, still manages to surpass expectations.
A very visceral story; the running, the exertion, the bursting muscles (colors, illustration, sound) . . . all were quite tense. The introductory narration spoke of truly exceptional people having the ability to become aware of the confines of the matrix; this is a great story that describes such exceptionalism in a sort of unexpected way. I don't typically flock to stories about sport or sports people, but I did enjoy this as it was a unique insight.
This got very long-winded, sorry for that, so the final three stories I'll write up in a separate post. Stay tuned!
This felt a lot like a modern-day Fellini film. Everything looked very beautiful, the moments of pain and light-heartedness went hand in hand, and every scene shouted art. I often wonder what items or experiences other people have from their childhood or coming-of-age years that they look back on and enjoy remembering; this film is a lovely reminder that we should do that, if we can.
Salvador Mallo (Antonio Banderas) is a gifted film director with several health issues that have kept him from exploring new work or interacting with the public. When one of his popular films gets remastered, he agrees to meet with the film's lead, Alberto Crespo (Asier Etxeandia), who he'd shunned for years after a falling out over the actor's heroin use. The two men connect over the exact act Mallo had judged Crespo for decades earlier (which Crespo calls, "chasing the dragon"), and under influence of the drug, Mallo begins a sort of retrospective review of his life and work. He not only begins writing again, but through Crespo's stage performance of his autobiographical essay, Mallo reunites with the love of his life, who inspires him even more. While many of his physical pains persist, Mallo continues his work honoring the people and experiences that shaped him as an artist.
The technical and thematic elements present in this film are equal parts skillful aesthetic and sentimentality. The colors, the landscapes, the interactions between characters, and even the graphics used early on in the film are all engaging and beautiful. The nostalgia and heartbreak shown in the film is best seen and not so much spoken of; this is such a writer's film, one that those of us who spend time wrapped up in our thoughts, reactions, and longing for past experiences will easily recognize. It was truly lovely to behold.
Pain and Glory is rated R for nudity and drug use and runs 1 hour 53 minutes. I got this as a recommendation via Twitter (thanks, LOSTie Laura!) and got the film itself through Netflix disk.
Last week I watched a few different films, did some cleaning and baking, and deactivated my Facebook account because a break was needed (STAY HOME/WEAR A MASK). The funny thing about these three films is that they relate really well to the stack of books I'm reading right now, hope to have those finished next week sometime.
The 39 Steps, d. Alfred Hitchcock, 1935
A man in England gets drawn into some espionage stuff; danger unfolds.
This was probably one of my least-remembered Hitchcock films; I read the book some years ago and didn't remember much from that, either. Now that I'm a more mature person with fewer interruptions, I thought I'd give it all another go as this was the first selection on Netflix's Criterion Collection (disk). It took two separate viewings for me to really get into it, but was worth it in the end because I really appreciated the second. I got to enjoy the little moments that felt very Hitchcock: slow, moving camera to show suspense through varying POVs, the strength of the musical numbers (orchestral, whistling, wavering between the jaunty situations and announcing peril), and sly, witty banters between the principal characters, Hannay (Robert Donat) and Pamela (Madeleine Carroll).
There's a neat little moment that fans of the Chicago St. Patrick's Day parade scene from The Fugitive will recognize about midway through, and the ending, though subtle, is one of my favorite wrap-ups of a mystery story, ever. It's a smart and fun, but have some caffeine and keep the subtitles on. If you don't keep on top of what's being said, you're apt to tune out.
King Arthur: Legend of the Sword, d. Guy Ritchie, 2017
The son of a murdered king draws a magical sword out of stone; danger unfolds.
This has got to be one of the most underrated films of the last decade. The only complaint I have about it is that I wish it was either longer or done as a trilogy or series. So much happens that's amazing and impressive but is presented as exposition or an afterthought that really leaves one wanting more (Uther Pendragon and Merlin, to name a couple), and the end scene especially hints at more shenanigans in the future, but whatever. As an action film with supernatural elements, it still gets everything right. The banter and nicknames are great (use subtitles), the fight choreography is amazing, and the music on this one (composer Daniel Pemberton) is absolutely among the best in soundtrack history.
I know people will come after me about Hunnam, but I'm sorry, I love the guy. He does in this what he mostly always does--looks amazing and does great physical acting while his supporting cast does most of the emotional heavy lifting. The accent in this is decidedly better than the Jax Teller we all came to love (and cringe at), and no weird swaggering around, so bonus. I'll also say that it was this film that took him up a level as an actor, and that he's only gotten better in everything he's done, since, so I think del Toro and Ritchie have both brought about positive effects in CH. Take a look:
Django Unchained, d. Quentin Tarantino, 2012
A former slave joins forces with a German bounty hunter in effort to locate his wife; danger, disgusting racism, and extreme violence unfold.
I saw this in the theater when it came out and had a hard time with it. It was put together well, amazing aesthetic, performances, and music as all of Tarantino's films, it's just . . . difficult to watch and difficult to talk about, too. I hated DiCaprio as Calvin Candie the first time around, this time I wasn't bothered by his performance as much, I just was uncomfortable with pretty much everything going on, as was meant to be the point, clearly. No matter how idiotic the Klansmen plantation owners are shown to be (which is very), we're still watching idiotic Klansmen and plantation owners commit violent, dehumanizing acts, and it's troubling enough to be sickening. I guess what I'm trying to say is, as competent a film as it is (these types of things indeed happened, and as Rod Serling once said, we shouldn't look away), I couldn't be entertained by it, even as a sort of get-what-you-deserve fantasy tale like Kill Bill or Inglourious Basterds. There's just too little distance between how racism was portrayed or acted upon from this film compared to the enslavement that this film is about; the fact that the same words are still being uttered by racists and many of the same violent actions are still happening today in 2020 is ridiculous and horrifying. I agree that we shouldn't look away, I just don't know how a conversation about this film should go, considering.
I very much enjoyed Django (Jamie Foxx), I loved his lines, his attitude toward the racists, the bounty hunter outfit and hat, and his tear-assing around bareback on the horse after the exchange with the Australians. More than anything else, I loved his words to his wife, Broomhilda (Kerry Washington) when the two finally reunite:
Golden Touch, 1935, rated G, 10 minutes. A King Midas story where Midas is large and sort of creepy with little to no regard to any of the living things around him. The golden touch comes to Midas (who's already rich) by way of another creepy character, Goldie, who has the face of a septuagenarian but the voice of a toddler. Goldie reluctantly bestows the golden touch upon Midas, who enjoys turning statues, water, and animals to gold but has second thoughts only when he realizes his food is affected.
Rating: you can skip this one, unless you like your animation heavy with uncanny weird guys and subtle cruelty to animals. There are some skeletons (which my youngest son enjoyed relating to the current Midas Fortnite skins and the Oro story), but they're not exactly scary. It's a story about greed, but only in degrees; the sweaty king's hunger for food wins out over his hunger for gold, how relevant. How manly! Mostly I just cringed.
On Ice, 1935, rated G, 8 minutes. Mickey, Minnie, Goofy, Donald, and Pluto go ice skating! Mickey and Minnie are wholesome and sweet; Goofy ice-fishes with chewing tobacco and gets outsmarted by the fish he means to catch; Donald messes with Pluto and gets himself swept away in a kite versus waterfall debacle; Mickey saves the day and Goofy does more dumb stuff, but funny dumb stuff because it involves Donald getting smacked in the butt with a baseball bat. Stellar.
Rating: This was cute at first but went downhill fast. So much of early animation focused on physical comedy (which is done great with Mickey and Minnie's scenes) and cruelty (Donald is not a nice duck). The cruelty is pretty minor, just pretending to be a cat and laughing when Pluto repeatedly falls on the ice but I know my children would have likely felt sad for the dog and confused at all the meanness. I remember watching an animated version of the three little kittens who lost their mittens back when I was maybe five or six and feeling very sad about the bullying (the three rich kittens would not allow a poor kitten to play with them because he had no mittens); this felt a lot like that and I didn't like it. Mickey needed to step in and tell Donald to back off his dog. What a jerk. Elmer Elephant, 1936, rated G, 8 minutes. Elmer is a sweet, shy, waddling young elephant attending Tillie the Tiger's birthday party with a collection of jungle friends. He gives Tillie a bouquet of flowers, which she enjoys, and is soon bullied by the other party goers, presumably because Tillie likes him best. They decide to focus on his trunk and assemble in a petty little parade which imitates Elmer's anatomy and distinct way of walking. Insecure, much? What a bunch of dicks. Elmer storms out of the party but is consoled by a friendly elderly giraffe and a squadron of pelicans. When Tillie's tree house catches on fire, Elmer's new friends assist him in putting out the fire, which in a "all's well that ends well," conclusion, wins Tillie's love and affection. The other animals apparently peace out because they're useless and bitter jackasses.
Rating: This was probably my favorite of the five; there are strong precursors to Dumbo, which deals pretty extensively with bullying as well. The ringleader of the rudeness was really just an animal version of the kid in the circus crowd who would eventually go on to imitate Dumbo's ears, but in Dumbo that kid got a nice retaliatory beat-down from Mrs. Jumbo in response. These little brats just . . . I don't know, had to go home or something. Boo.
Sea Scouts, 1939, rated PG, 8 minutes. Donald Duck takes his nephews on an attempted sailing expedition; he's a terrible sailor, is obsessed with his Napoleon hat, consistently puts the young ducks in harm's way, and battles a shark (which he punches out in the end) over the hat.
Rating: I get that Donald is supposed to be this overreacting sort of scoundrel that exemplifies the physical comedy in these animated pieces, but there's nothing endearing about him (other than being a dick, that is). He uses a few comical phrases and big words to condescend to his nephews, and he's in and out of peril throughout the story, but overall it's all pretty mean-spirited and negative. I guess that's what people found funny back then. It's different than say, the interactions between Wile E. Coyote and the Roadrunner or Tom and Jerry because those stories are about creatures who are natural opposites on the food chain and in nature. Donald Duck is just shitty. Shitty to his nephews, shitty to other animals, shitty to the core. I don't often want to harm animated characters but I'd like to punt him.
Donald's Dog Laundry, 1940, rated G, 8 minutes. Donald Duck tries to entice an innocent, unsuspecting Pluto into a dog-washing contraption. Things don't go according to plan.
Rating: See above. Also I was reminded very strongly of people or children in real life who insist on doing things to pets that are clearly unwanted. Stop doing this and leave them alone.
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