Thursday, March 31, 2005

It has been a while since I last posted, but with spring break about to wind down, I finally have the time to give you an update of what's going on in my life.

Before we went to spring break, my class started planning out the group projects we'll be doing, I was chosen to be the film editor in one of those projects. Basically what I do is cut out what is unnecessary and paste together the needed footage very seamlessly.

I spent most of spring break at home watching the DVDs I rented at Blockbuster, all were comedies that have attained cult status. The first film I watched from the bunch was Monty Python and the Holy Grail, the 1975 British comedy classic starring the beloved "Monty Python's Flying Circus" troupe (John Cleese, Eric Idle, Michael Palin, Terry Gilliam, Terry Jones, and the late Graham Chapman) as the Knights of the Round Table led by King Arthur (played by Chapman) who encounter strange and silly obstacles like arrogant Frenchmen ("I fart in your general direction. Your mother was a hamster and your father smelt of elderberries."), the attractive inhabitants of Castle Anthrax ("Oh, it is a lonely life -- bathing, dressing, undressing, making exciting underwear"), the dreaded Knights Who Say 'Ni' (later known as The Knights Who Say 'Ekki-Ekki-Ekki-Ekki-PTANG-Zoom-Boing-Z'nourrwringmm'), and a killer rabbit on their quest to seek the Grail. The only bad thing about this otherwise great film was the bummer ending (one of the original endings planned but never filmed was to have them find the Grail in Harrods, a London department store). It was recently adapted into a Broadway musical called Spamalot starring Tim Curry (as Arthur), Hank Azaria (as Sir Lancelot), and David Hyde Pierce (as the "brave" Sir Robin). I can't wait to rent the other Monty Python films (Life of Brian and The Meaning of Life).

The next film I saw was Reefer Madness, an over-the-top propaganda film about the dangers of marijuana made way back in 1938 by a church group which developed a cult following in the 1970's. Who would have thought that marijuana can be addictive after just one puff? Or can make someone laugh uncontrollably? Or that marijuana smokers play the piano really well (and faster)? Or even worse, it could lead to incurable insanity? Totally campy and unintenionally irreverent, this film makes Plan 9 from Outer Space look like Citizen Kane.

My viewing marathon was followed by Harold and Maude, a quirky 1971 film by Hal Ashby (who later helmed the 1979 Peter Sellers comedy Being There, a favorite of mine). It stars Bud Cort as a young man obsessed with death who frequently stages elaborate fake suicides (which his shallow mother seems pretty used to), drives a hearse and attends funerals of people he doesn't know. In one of those funerals, he meets Maude (played by Ruth Gordon), an eccentric old woman approaching her 80th birthday who is Harold's exact opposite: she has a lust for life. Thus begins a friendly relationship that soon develops into romance (at first I was creeped out at this notion, but I was won over it as I continue watching), as Harold's attitude on life starts to change from a morbid one to a more "reach out and live to the fullest" approach. This film is teeming with inspiring quotes, especially those coming from Maude (Sample: "A lot of people enjoy being dead. But they are not dead, really. They're just backing away from life. Reach out. Take a chance. Get hurt even. But play as well as you can. Go team, go! Give me an L. Give me an I. Give me a V. Give me an E. L-I-V-E. LIVE! Otherwise, you got nothing to talk about in the locker room."), and made more lively by the accompanying soundtrack of Cat Stevens songs (including "Trouble" and "If You Want to Sing Out, Sing Out"). Like most cult films, it flopped in its original release but over the years it not only developed a loyal following but also influenced filmmakers like Wes Anderson and Zach Braff in their visual style.

The last film in the bunch I saw was This Is Spinal Tap, a 1984 comedy directed by Rob Reiner (his first) which elevated the "mockumentary" sub-genre into a comedy art form. The film is basically a parody/satire on the excesses of rock & roll, and most of the dialogue is improvised. Rob Reiner plays Marty DiBergi, a filmmaker who decides to make a "rockumentary" about the disastrous 1982 American tour of Spinal Tap, a (fictitious) British heavy metal band considered arguably to be the "world's loudest band". The core members of the group are lead guitarist Nigel Tufnel (played by Christopher Guest), lead singer David St. Hubbins (played by Michael McKean), and bassist Derek Smalls (played by Harry Shearer, who would go on to be one of the major voice talents in "The Simpsons"). We see the group evolve from Beatlesque (as exemplified by their song "Gimme Some Money") to peaceniks (thanks to their hippie anthem "(Listen to) The Flower People") and finally re-inventing themselves as metalheads (who gave us inane songs like "Big Bottom" which begins with: "The bigger the cushion, the sweeter the pushin'/That's what I said/The looser the waistband, the deeper the quicksand/Or so I have read"). Along the way, the band talks about the different drummers they lost over the years (one died after choking on someone else's vomit, another spontaneously combusted onstage), deals with a series of tour cancellations, gets lost backstage, and endure bad reviews of their music (Marty DiBergi (reading from an article): "This tasteless cover is a good indication of the lack of musical invention within. The musical growth of this band cannot even be charted. They are treading water in a sea of retarded sexuality and bad poetry." Nigel Tufnel: "That's just nitpicking, isn't it?"). We are also treated to scenes of their stage performances, including a disastrous re-imagining of Stonehenge involving a 18-inch (rather than feet) stage prop and 2 dancing midgets (David St. Hubbins: "I do not, for one, think that the problem was that the band was down. I think that the problem may have been, that there was a Stonehenge monument on the stage that was in danger of being crushed by a dwarf. Alright? That tended to understate the hugeness of the object."). There's also a funny scene where Nigel shows Marty an amplifier he made which goes up to 11 ("It's one louder"), Marty then asks "Why don't you just make ten louder and make ten be the top number and make that a little louder?", and after a long pause, Nigel quickly replies "These go to eleven." This film clearly walks in a fine line between "stupid and clever", to quote from one of the characters.

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