They're Eating The Guests, Sir: Piranha (1978)

Liminality is a word that gets thrown around in a lot of theory circles to discuss that space in between one thing and another, some sort of impossible space that can only be occupied in a transitory phase.  Think of a doorway as an appropriate metaphor to this idea.  I bring up this idea because I can only describe Piranha as a film that exists in the liminal stage between good and bad, in so much that it cannot be quantifiably described as either.  In some cases this sort of enigmatic existence can prove to make the film absolutely captivating, demanding a constant reconsideration of how and why one categorizes a film, whether it be for performances, cinematic value or narrative considerations, even moving on to look at how less quantifiable elements might affect ones relationship with the film.  Indeed, the opening scenes of this film were actually ones that, upon viewing, took me back to childhood having seen the film on some late night screening, much to my surprise considering the use of nudity and violence.  Yet, even in this flittering moment of curiosity I could not get over how middle-of-the-road this film ended up being, at times excelling at its execution, particularly in the use of stop motion early in the story and at other times completely lacking any sense of continuity and structure, jumping from one point of action to another with a less than appropriate edit.  I want so desperately to pick up on the elements that make it a cult classic, but despite a great soundtrack and an overabundance of mocking directed specifically towards Jaws, for which it is clearly ripping off, there is none of the earnestness or absurdity warranting it such a status.  Sure the alcoholic lone man character coming in contact with the doe eyed young investigator has shades of implausibility and humor, but these are not backed up by any sense of creating a narrative arc that plays upon this, even in an uncomfortable and ill-conceived manner.  Piranha is some sort of either/or film in that it is either atrocious or brilliant, but does not carry itself in a way to suggest that it wants to be investigated as such, instead being a work that unfolds in an underwhelming tale of river travel, summer camp coming-of-age discomfort and what might have been a backstory involving corrupt politics.

Piranha begins with a young couple sneaking behind the barriers of a restricted area in order to go skinny dipping in a lake, while their initial endeavor seems harmless if not gross for the area appearing to be a sanitation, when the young man is dragged under the water by an unseen creature, the girl panics swimming away, only to also be captured by the creature, thus beginning the film proper, as a young woman named Maggie McKeown (Heather Menzies-Hurich) enters the area of Lost River Lake, hoping to uncover exactly what happened to the teens from the opening portion of the film.  Knowing that she is unfamiliar with the space she attempts to recruit the help of Paul Grogan (Bradford Dillman) a river guide whose recent divorce has resulted in him forming an absurd degree of alcoholism, one that includes drinking liquor directly from a canteen.  Despite his problems, he agrees to help Maggie and the two immediately investigate the blocked off area, planning on draining the water to see what has happened.  In the process of doing so they are momentarily stopped by Dr. Hoak (Kevin McCarthy) a man who explains himself as an employee of the military that had been working to create a particular breed of flesh eating fish for warfare purposes in the Vietnam, the hatchery just happening to be in Lost River Lake and Maggie and Paul's meddling has unleashed the population into the space of the river, threatening to attack campers and the community alike, all who use the lake as a point of enjoyment.  Indeed, the damage these creatures can cause becomes apparent when one of Paul's friends is attacked while fishing on the dockside resulting in the man's grandson joining in the group as they attempt to evacuate the lake and stifle the infestation of the deadly piranhas.  Paul is also doubly concerned about rescuing his daughter Suzie (Shannon Collins) whose own past fears of the water become manifested when the attacks occur at her camp, proving her somewhat of an asshole camp counselor Mr. Dumont (Paul Bartel) wrong in his criticism.  Simultaneous to all this is the attempts by individuals like Dr. Mengers (Barbara Steele) and Colonel Waxman (Bruce Gordon) to poison the river, hoping that it will kill the fish, although past attempts at such methods have proved equally futile.  Attempts to flood the water prove futile and although the spreading of the fish into the ocean occurs, Mengers goes on the radio to claim that the problems are over, a statement that is countered by the shrill sound of piranhas in the closing shots of the film.

I guess if anything the film was attempting to be a take on the, then, still burgeoning environmental horror film.  Of course, as noted earlier it is blatantly an attempt to counter the status and power of Jaws, often blatantly mocking the film either in subtle ways through soundtrack cues, or more obvious moments as is the case with the Jaws arcade game being shown early on, a notion of child's play being attached to the former, albeit far superior film.  Nonetheless, Piranha flails to make connections between the way in which nature has rebelled against the pollution and degradation enacted by humanity, whether it be political or military oriented, in the clear and blatant ways.  Yet, filmmaker Joe Dante also draws attention to how these groups are far from the only ones engaging in destructive actions, considering how something assumedly beneficial like a summer camp might also double as a look at capitalist desires and overpowering the space of the natural only to be replaced by docks, cabins and other manmade places intended to, ironically, get closer to nature.  This pollution or environment degrade also takes on metaphorical elements within the film, as the individuals who desire to find purity through water (the opening scene skinny dippers) are not only made to be foolish, but also destroyed in their actions.  The act of attempting to harness the environmental to be used in a destructive manner against others, here in the militaristic sense, is also critiqued, shown to be so dangerous that even the concern for justice by one group could result in the annihilation of a river or in a worse case the entirety of humanity.  It takes on a decidedly more poignant, but probably accidental, narrative when it is suggested that these ferocious piranhas were to specifically used in Vietnam, a space of warfare that was particularly troublesome for American troops who found the natural world impossible to navigate, often dying as a result of the fungi, diseases and general lack of basic necessities in the space as opposed to actual violence.  Finally, pollution takes on an interpersonal level with an individual like Paul who seems to want to pursue a Thoreau like return to the natural, but cannot get over his own frustrations and find a space of natural enlightenment, thus becoming a point of personal pollution through his alcoholism.

Key Scene:  The stop motion elements which become arbitrary in the convoluted plot are really quite amazing and lovingly hearken back to films like the low-budget wonder that is Equinox.

This is on Netflix Watch Instantly, it is more a curiosity than a necessary viewing, but to be fair it is also a major work in the narrative of genre film, so watching it for a sense of completist viewing is not illogical.

Reconsidering My Cinematic Childhood: 3 Ninjas (1992)

Due to time, I am starting a new segment on the blog, what follows will be a bit of an explanation/diatribe of sorts.  In the case of this post it will still fall within the kung fu marathon:

As I become more familiar with my use and presence on Letterboxd, I am decided that making really quirky lists is proving to be a great way of wasting my seemingly minimal amount of free time, but since it requires little effort and far less dedication that writing out a blog post, I justify the act in that it is still allowing me to consider film, even if in a wildly joking manner.  For example, I have a running list of films in titled "movies that make the 80's look like the coolest and grossest place to live simultaneously" which considers a breadth of movies from the era that are wildly over-the-top, but highly engaging, including wonderfully terrible movies like Miami Connection and more well-established classics that are still kind of awful, such as Top Gun.  Another list has come to my mind as a result of this kung fu marathon, when I watched 3 Ninjas.  The title for this Letterboxd list will be something along the lines of "movies from my childhood that have not aged well," because 3 Ninjas is certainly a prime example of this dilemma.  My brother and I used to repeatedly watch this film and hope to obtain the, what we thought at the time were, kabuki masks worn by the brothers.  Revisiting it for this marathon, made it rather apparent that it not only failed to maintain even the slightest degree of nostalgia that I have obtained for movies that are far from perfect, a work like Space Jam being perhaps the best example.  3 Ninjas cannot even maintain the aforementioned nostalgia factor because the movie is both very dated and indeed not even well made.  It is clearly a work that was rushed through production, evident through sporadic editing and filming that make the presence of stunt doubles so blatant and a narrative with the flimsiest of character arcs and an understanding of fashion that extends to about a solid three months of 1992.

This segment will involve me attempting to reflect on what I might have picked up on as a child that would have made me adore this movie and then I will juxtapose it with the reality, or new opinion I might have formed with a more matured cultural palette, as well as a much broader awareness of the art of cinema, both in function and theory.  First, I seem to recall being really fond of the films presence of the Japanese grandfather, played by Victor Wong.  Something about his sagely presence seemed hip and desirable.  Now, I realize how exploitative the figure was, as well as how stereotypical the figure proved to be, particularly in contrast to the whiteness of the kids around him.  In fact, assuming that he was supposed to be their grandfather, the possibility of the three children having any amount of Asian heritage seems genetically unlikely, thus leading to another point of reconsideration as I look back on this film.  When I was younger, I am certain that some of my joy in this film came from its brevity.  Clocking in at under an hour and thirty minutes, the film is paced at a frantic speed, jumping between scenes inexplicably and incorporating characters, none of which seem to go anywhere.  I am aware that this could have been a result of the producers demanding the filmmaker cut away scenes to make it watchable, for children, like myself at the time, whose attention spans would have popped off by the hour thirty marker.  Yet, what they chose to keep makes as little sense at what is clearly missing, as though whoever did get tasked with editing was doing so out of spite.  For the third consideration, I will get a bit Freudian and admit that one of the elements that might have drawn me to the film was the tenuous relationship between the father and sons, of absence and indifference.  Thematically it is something that still strikes a cord with me when executed brilliantly, as is the case with Puffy Chair, or to a lesser degree in The Great Santini.  Here, however, it is just done with little concern for the psychological effects or the nature of such a distancing relationship on a family structure.  Like the rest of the film it is dealt with hastily and unconvincingly.

As you can tell by this revisitation, I am less than thrilled about this film.  While I do not foresee this being a super frequent variant on the regular blog postings, it is something that I hope to try here and there.  Inclusions in the future are likely to be films like Small Soldiers, Gordy and A Walk to Remember, which I reacted to with great enjoyment at a younger, pre-cinephile age that might not hold up with a more critical lens.  However, on this quest, I do hope to occasionally find a work that has become even more profound with age, unfortunately, that was not the case with 3 Ninjas.

Only Two Types Of Men Get Shot: Criminals and Victims: Cowboys & Aliens (2011)

It only figured that after some amount of time what would be my desire to find the farthest stretches of western revisionism would result in a film that completely failed on all accounts.  To think that I seriously considered going out of my way to spend money on seeing Cowboy & Aliens in theaters upon its initial release is absurd, something I am glad I did not do, because it could have clouded my opinion of many of the film's actors, as well as director Jon Favreau, who is clearly more of a puppet to producers visions than the voice that would create the ever-enjoyable Iron Man.  While it does borrow heavily from the western genre tradition, it is far from a well delivered film, in fact, I would argue that the film is nothing more than a set of events paired together by a Hollywood think tank whose only concern for the film was that it had an appropriate amount of action and managed to make the most use of Harrison Ford as possible.  If you pay attention during the opening credits the executive producers and writers for the film appear to essentially be the same group, and the nod to Steven Spielberg as a producer is evidenced when one realizes that the film is, essentially James Bond and Indiana Jones versus E.T. and his friends from Close Encounters of the Third Kind.  Again it is within the framework of the western genre, so my point of contention is not there by any means...trust me I wanted to enjoy this film.  Yet, if one considers that such a large amount of money was dumped into this film ($163 Million to be exact) it is frustrating to see the visual deliveries come across as cheap, repetitive and lacking in the sort of grandeur one might assume that is ostensibly borrowing from two of the most cinematic genres known to film history.  I mean, imagine how many films Shane Carruth could make with that kind of money, especially considering that the vision that was Primer was executed on a budget of seven thousand dollars, yet has more visual magic than any scene in Cowboys & Aliens which is further baffling when you consider that pretty much every moment in the film cost well over seven thousand dollars to make.  While it serves its place in the post-modern 21st century moviegoing canon, Cowboys & Aliens fails in regards to pretty much everything its sets out to do on screen.

Cowboys & Aliens primarily focuses on Jake Lonergan (Daniel Craig) a loner and ex-criminal who inexplicably awakes in the desert with a deep wound in his stomach and a hunk of metal attached to his arm.  Needing medical attention Jake moves quickly to the nearest town, Absolution, where he meets a local preacher who treats his wounds.  After awaking somewhat healed Jake makes his way out to the town, only for it to be in the midst of a semi-shootout started by the young Percy Dolarhyde (Paul Dano) after being berated by the local saloon owner Doc (Sam Rockwell) who is fed up of Percy using his connections to Woodrow Dolarhyde (Harrison Ford), an infamous gunslinger,  to bully the town.  Jake stepping into the action unaware of these elements, puts Percy in his place, resulting in the sheriff showing up and placing him in jail, despite the concerns of the townsfolk and it is during this time that people realize that Jake is indeed a wanted criminal, also leading to his being jailed.  Both Jake and Percy are to be shipped to the marshall, only to have Woodrow emerge and attempt to stop the event from happening, however, it is also during this confrontation that aliens attack the town capturing men and women in the process, both Percy and Doc's wife among the group.  During the battle, Jake realizes that his metal bracelet is capable of releasing huge burst of destructive energy which he uses with a bit of success against the aliens.  Jake and Woodrow are initially at odds with one another, but when it becomes apparent that they will need one another's help they join forces, eventually getting the help of the town prostitute Ella (Olivia Wilde) who later reveals herself to be a different species of alien hoping to help Earth survive the attack.  Eventually, a set of memories Jake has been having allow for him to better understand the nature of how to attack these aliens, specifically once they find their ship buried into the ground mining for gold.  After a battle both within and outside of the ship, the aliens are destroyed and Jake retains his previously lost memory and the various captives are returned to their loved ones.  The group returns to Absolution to begin rebuilding, but Jake decides his life should exist somewhere else, his departure occurs with a promise by Woodrow and the sheriff to claim that Jake had died during the invasion, as to avoid any trouble with his past in the future.

If that plot description sounds a little brief, yet incredibly all-over-the-place that is because it is precisely how Cowboys & Aliens exists as a film.  At no point is any commitment made to make the alien element of the film a complete hybrid with the western genre that dominates the films narrative.  In fact, if you took out that element to this film it would still have a similar narrative flow, all be it equally basic and misdirected.  There are a ton of western tropes incorporated within this film, but as soon as the film sets any single one of them up for analysis it is immediately knocked down to move onto the next "important" sequence in the film, which may or may not deal with aliens, in most instances it has very little to do with the latter portion of the title.  In fact, from what I have read Favreau and the others working on the film were invited to Spielberg's house for screenings of a variety of classic western and the director gave them suggestions on what they could include in the script.  It is really a shame that Spielberg was not involved beyond this point because it is clear that they appeared to take the suggestions as not "possible" options, but instead "necessary" ones, blowing past very key social commentaries and even deeply engaging religious inquiries, again to seemingly more important narrative task.  If it were just dealing with these tropes that proved problematic I would chalk it up to a relatively refined palette, certainly more so after nearly a month of westerns, but it is the case for every damn element of this movie.  For example, there are way too many characters in this film, many of which purely serve as veritable canon fodder for the main characters to go on their quest.  Doc would be seemingly content to bemoan his life from behind the counter of his saloon were it not for the loss of his wife, just as Woodrow would appear to remain cantankerous and vile, a state of mind that drastically alters when he is faced with not only the very real possibility of losing his son, but his grandson as well.  Hell, even Jake, a character who could benefit from a vague storyline, is given just enough information for a viewer to consider empathizing with him, but the focus on returning his memories only to have them prove rather arbitrary in the films closing moments.  When he leaves town it is supposed to be the into the sunset scene that is both stoic and heartbreaking, but in the case of this, at times, insufferable film, his departure is welcomed because it is quickly followed by the credits.

Key Scene:  If I had to chose something I guess the underwater shot of a camp being attacked by aliens is one of the few well-executed moments in the entire film.

Avoid this film, there is really no reason to engage with it and I can think of a ton of films from both genres individually that are much more worth one's time.