Think Of 'Em Like Moving Two By Fours: Tucker and Dale Vs Evil (2010)

The revisionist horror film is almost a thing that is ad nauseam in post-digital filmmaking.  Indeed, it would appears as though every hip post-film school punk thinks themselves capable of creating a masterwork in horror that is in comparison to Texas Chainsaw Massacre or The Exorcist.  This is not to say that decent digital horror films do not exist, there are quite a few examples of next level horror films that have emerged in the past decade, but for the most part they are indicative of sloppy filmmaking that masks itself under excessive gore and formulaic plot.  Tucker and Dale vs Evil in all its absurdity does manage to reconsider some of the elements necessary to horror films and even cleverly engages with some of the classic horror cinema texts from which it pulls.  Of course, given that the entirety of the film is predicated upon one misunderstanding based on social stereotypes the jokes surrounding this run thin by the end and seem less than stellar.  That is not to say that Tucker and Dale vs Evil is not an enjoyable viewing experience, but purely to note that it loses its flare by the closing moments.  The highlight here, however, is Alan Tudyk, who as I noted along side Trey on my appearance on the podcast Drive By Nerding, when Tudyk shows up in anything I will seek it out and consume it, because even with his decidedly comedic choices, he turns in some of the best acting available.  Where Tucker and Dale vs Evil works as a film is in the moments that it clearly makes sure it is not taken seriously, layering on blood and nudity as though it is almost an afterthought, noting that as a genre film it is somehow only taken seriously when such extremes are depicted, by not taking these "necessary" moments as anything but fabrication viewers are allowed to dig a bit deeper and consider the implications of villains and heroes in the horror film canon proper, and like any good revisionist work of genre filmmaking, Tucker and Dale vs Evil leaves those who encounter it considering the very nature of the presumably entrenched tropes of hillbilly slasher movies.

Tucker and Dale vs Evil focuses on two coinciding stories, one focusing on a group of college kids taking a weekend trip to the woods, ranging from the likable and well-meaning Allison (Katrina Bowden) to the seemingly devious and decidedly maniacal Chad (Jesse Moss).  Along with a few other friends they are hoping to get drunk in the woods and engage in all the wild behaviors possible.  Meanwhile Dale (Tyler Labine) and Tucker (Alan Tudyk) also have high hopes of their own, as two self-associating rednecks they take pride in their acquisition of a vacation home, planning on spending the weekend engaging in renovations of the space.  At a local gas station the two groups cross paths, Dale taking a liking to Allison, but when approaching the group, Dale in his stalky demeanor and carrying of a scythe like pole only manages to scare the group, however, their paths reconvene when later that night while fishing, Tucker and Dale spot the group going skinny dipping, even catching Allison as she begins to undress on a high rock.  Scared, Dale shouts causing Allison to fall in panic and become knocked unconscious.  In guilt, Dale takes Allison back to their cabin and begins bringing her back to health, much to the frustrations of Tucker, but more so to the panic of Allison's friends, particularly Chad who mounts a wild plan to get his girlfriend back.  This plan falls completely to the wayside, however, when each attack leads to Dale or Tucker accidentally killing one of the member from Chad's group, either by dodging their attack and leading to their being impaled or by accidentally allowing them to fall into a wood chipper.  Ultimately, Chad becomes wildly vindictive in his attempts to seek revenge upon Tucker and Dale, at one point capturing Tucker and chopping off one of his fingers.  As a past story of murders in the area unfolds, it becomes clear that Chad is perhaps not as well-meaning as he appears, just as Tucker and Dale are not quite as brutal, and in the end Chad is destroyed and Dale is able to win over Allison.  Tucker who now possesses a new finger, seems quite content to be able to enjoy a fresh PBR from his hospital bed.

Tucker and Dale vs Evil works in a lot of regards.  The gore is so synthetic and absurd as to be nearly endearing in its absurdity and much of the dialogue is so heavy handed that one might think writer/director Eli Craig lifted every bit of it from eighties horror films.  These things are great and some of the highlights of the film, but what makes this film clever and a decidedly post-genre comedy, is the way in which it deals with the homoeroticism latent to the psychotic hillbilly horror film, particularly the classic in this regards Deliverance.  Wherein violently sexual encounters are used in a very demeaning and metaphorically visceral way in the cult classic starring Burt Reynolds, the homoeroticism of Tucker and Dale vs Evil becomes humorous in how much Craig makes the viewers acknowledge its potential, made all the more intriguing by the sort of connections made to rural folk life in hilly southern country that is entirely predicated upon Deliverance and the infamous "squeal like a piggy" scene.  Tucker and Dale obviously share a longing with one another, a desire to be together that is not necessarily sexual, but still borders on being wildly homoerotic.  Whether it be their initial encounter with the ill-fated police chief wherein Dale finds himself in a compromising position with Tucker, or their countless mishaps that land one on top of the other, it is clear that their embraces linger on far longer than one would expect for purportedly heterosexual men.  Craig's equally lengthy shots of the scenes ask viewers to first laugh at the absurdity, but then consider why exactly it is funny, when the situational bit wears thing.  In a society that is far more open to diverse sexual identities this is executed beautifully and becomes a great study on individuals burgeoning into their comfort sexually.  For Dale it is a movement towards heterosexuality, but it is rather clear that in the relationship between himself and Tucker that it is Tucker who truly possesses the homoerotic desire, almost affirmed by his acquiring a woman's finger in his hand transplant, one that Dale says fits, a clear suggest that his desire for men is fine, although not best directed at Dale.  This is all minimally discussed in the film, but, nonetheless, exists and makes for a wonderfully subversive film, masquerading as an absurdist horror comedy.

Key Scene:  Any of the moments involving Tudyk waxing poetic about beer are quite wonderful.

Neflix. Watch. Instantly.  In contrast to most of the garbage available, this is well worth your consideration.

I'm An Australian, And I'm Looking For A Friend: Stoner (1974)

Sometimes movies emerge into the world without any rational explanation or justification, and their very existence defines what the collective of moviegoers know to be absurdism.  The thing with this is these movies often tend to present themselves as such, focusing on the non-normative in cinema or completely rejecting constructs to allow for their desired message to emerge.  In other cases, the films simply manifest themselves because it is clear that nobody told the people involved not to do so and the result is one part baffling and another part profoundly transcendent.  At least I keep telling myself that is what is going on with the wild film that is Stoner, also known as the The Shrine of Ultimate Bliss.  I want to say that it is a film that is so terrible that it exists as being good, but it would be misguided to call it such, as it is rather clear that everyone knows what is going on and no sense of over-enthusiasm emerges.  Indeed, if any such zealousness were to come forth on the set of this film it is quite likely that it was devoured by the gross mustache that George Lazenby rocks for most of the film.  Stoner, bearing one of the worst conceived titles in the history of cinema, exists almost as two separate films that have a feeling of being paired together rather hap hazardously and even when the two protagonists meet up in the closing twenty minutes of the film it is rather hard to concede to it being anything but forced.  Indeed, where other blaxploitation and kung-fu films of the era would work because of their navigation and reconsideration of race relations in the venue of film, Stoner fails simply because it suggests that a fish-out-of-water film can work with a character who is a white Australian male.  It is no small bit of irony that it is George Lazenby who is cast in the role of Stoner, as he was himself James Bond, albeit for only one film, a white figure who moves through spaces he is deemed non-normative with the assumption that he is indeed still in a possession of power.  Stoner extends this commentary by making it work within the context of a kung fu flick, where in a hulking white guy beats down a ton of Asian bodies in the name of a vague narcotics bust.  It could have worked, were the film a little bit more self-aware about its absurdity, but Stoner fails by taking itself way to seriously, existing not as a accidental statement on a cultural issue turned into cinematic magic, as is the case with Reefer Madness, but one of a condemnation of a particular social pandemic that is so on-the-nose and poorly executed as to fall flatter than the obnoxiously awful Birdemic.

The bizarre world of Stoner focuses on the title character played by George Lazenby, an Australian narcotics officer who has been sent to China to explore the production and disbursement of a controversial drug known as "the happy pill."  The name suggestive of an antidepressant, actually appears to have more in common with modern day Viagra and other performance enhancement drugs, although this particular version works for both men and women and seems more indicative of an aphrodisiac.  Assumedly doing this task because the drug is highly addictive Stoner, moves about the streets of what is assumedly Hong Kong fighting of henchmen and mobsters who seem him as a threat, while moving through the various brothels and bars that have become the hotspots for the drug trafficking.  Meanwhile the film also focuses on Li Shou-Hua (Angela Mao) a Taiwanese detective who has also been tasked with breaking up the drug cartel, although she, as opposed to Stoner, finds herself with more access to the inner circles of the trafficking, particularly sources directly tied to Chin (Joji Takagi) the drug kingpin and maniacal leader who is credited with creating the happy pill.  The two separately navigate China, Stoner using brute force and a wicked mustache to get what he needs in various situations, while Li must be more crafty, relying on disguises as a salesgirl to infiltrate the inner circles of the mob.  Eventually, both Stoner and Li get to Chin's headquarters, simultaneously, and instantly befriending one another when they realize they have both arrived to take down Chin.  When they meet, however, Li is dressed in masculine clothing, therefore, Stoner assumes her to be a young man.  Eventually, the two are capture and it is revealed that Li is indeed a girl, at which point Stoner takes a clear sexual interest in Li, an act that is further problematic when considering that Chin injects Stoner with the happy pill juice to drive him to be sexually rampant.  Locking the two in a cell together, Li finds herself in a constant state of evasion from Stoner's unconscious, bumbling sexual advances.  When he awakes the next day to discover that not only has Li blocked of his attacks, she has also freed them both from their restraints, the two take it upon themselves to duke it out with Chin and his men, ending his production of the drug, while also coming into a ton of money, an amount that is immediately decided should go towards fighting narcotics traffic in Hong Kong.  Nothing is said about the future of either Stoner or Li, aside from showing a plane flying into the air, assumedly carrying Stoner back to Australia, whether Li joins him remains decidedly uncertain.

Transnationalism?  The dangers of addiction?  Passing as a different gender?  These could be possible things to talk about with a film like Stoner, but I just cannot get over the idea that it is a film in which George Lazenby, who played James Bond in On Her Majesty's Secret Service, moves about Hong Kong as a huge white guy beating up guys and sleeping with women, much like his British cinematic counterpart.  It is as good a time as any to mention that I am on the way to having an article published in a book regarding this very theme in James Bond films.  I cannot give details at the moment, but it is nice to be able to make the connection to a non-Bond film that happens still to include a James Bond actor, particularly since I do not include On Her Majesty's Secret Service in my paper.  Much as he does in On Her Majesty's Secret Service, Lazenby, as Stoner, arrives in Hong Kong and assumedly takes control of the situation demanding what he needs and desires with little concern for others around him.  Indeed, nobody seems to have asked the Australian to come, but it holds a sort of colonizing expectation that he can simply emerge and take what is his, doubly problematic given the relationship between Britain and China historically.  What makes Stoner starkly different from its Bondian siblings though is that the character of Li is not the submissive Bond girl, but instead a bad ass woman all her own, one that can pass as a man or woman as she sees fit, while also avoiding the very intense advances of Stoner.  In the Bond films he always gets the woman, even if she professes to be a lesbian, Bond finds a way to woo, often by force.  Angela Mao, does not allow a character such as hers to be taken by force, her prowess and skill evading and denying the oppression that comes from the lurking colonial figure.  True his wild chases are spurred by a heavy dose of drugs, but that does not mean they are any less problematic, particularly since the drugs were injected in him by another male figure.  Interestingly, Li is the only character who does not consume the drug and rejects it, adding a layer of sexual politics that suggest the "happy pill" to be a fabrication intended to justify male sexual prowess and dominance.  I know this is speaking in a lot of generalities, but I do not want to draw on anything that might show up in my publication.  When it becomes available publicly I will certainly refer back to this post with a more drawn out discussion.

Key Scene:  No scene, just Lazenby's mustache that inexplicably disappears by the film's third act.

I would avoid this film, there are much better Golden Harvest kung fu films to watch and in terms of George Lazenby, I would just check out his criminally underrated turn as Bond in On Her Majesty's Secret Service.