5th Monday Ugh: Troll 2 (Movie)

*COMMENT WITH YOUR FAVORITE TROLL 2 QUOTES!*

I must admit, I struggled in deciding whether or not I should count "Troll 2" as a 5th Monday Ugh or as a bonafide Great Work. After probably more deliberation than I could rightfully justify, I decided it should be considered an "Ugh" on the basis that the creators were trying to create something else and failed. What they ended up creating, however, is nothing short of a joy to behold.

Perhaps you are already familiar with the background* behind this incredible movie, but if not, here it is in a nutshell. In order to understand the grandeur of the film, I feel it is imperative to know a bit about how it came to be. Drake Floyd is the American-ish pseudonym of Italian filmmaker Claudio Fragasso. Before making "Troll 2," Floyd mostly worked on low budget slasher and zombie films. "Troll 2" is probably his most personal project, considering the screenplay was penned by his wife and was based on her original ideas. And boy are they ever original! Now, you might be asking yourself, why "Troll 2?" What about "Troll 1?" Well, the reason I'm not addressing the first "Troll" film is that it doesn't have anything to do with the work in question. The decision to change the title to "Troll 2" from the original title "Goblins" was an eleventh-hour attempt on the studio's part to squeeze a little more money out of the movie on the grounds that "Troll" was moderately successful considering its low budget.

"This is their kingdom!"

This would perhaps be a good strategy if it weren't for three things: 1) The films have no story or thematic continuity between them, as neither were created with the other in mind. 2) The films are not the same genre. "Goblins" was meant to be a dark horror film, whereas "Troll" was a good-natured fantasy. 3) THERE ARE NO TROLLS IN TROLL 2. You heard me. Not one. Sadly, Kevin Murphy's clever quip from The Wickerman Rifftrax ("This movie has as many wicker men in it as 'Troll 2' has trolls,") turns out not to be accurate, since in "The Wickerman" there is one wicker man on screen at the end of the movie. The only time anything that has to do with trolls appears in "Troll 2" is the on-screen wording of the opening and closing credits.

The best horror films and books often have morals buried within them. For example, Stephen King's Pet Semetary is a cleverly packaged warning against the dangers of fixation. It shows us in horrific detail what can happen to a person chooses to be blind to their own growing addictions. "Troll 2" also has a moral: vegetarians are annoying. I mean it. Floyd's wife, Rossella Drudi, flat-out said that was the point of the script. She got the idea for it after a few too many lunches with her vegetarian friends. Accordingly, the goblins in the film turn people into a plant-like food and eat them, which helps us understand how real-life vegetarians are no good.

"Our queen...needs us..."

"Troll 2" was filmed in Utah in the late 80's with an all-Italian crew and an all-American cast. Now, that wouldn't be such a big deal except for the fact that only one crew member (the costume designer) was actually fluent in both languages. Cast members recount how disconnected the directing was because of this. In one memorable day of shooting an actor was told by Floyd to "go upstairs" during the shot. Unfortunately, they were outside at the time, and no stairs were in sight. Some of the little people who play the goblins in the movie reminisced that typically when making a film you don't ever see a full script, but you start to get a sense of the film's continuity as you show up for filming day after day, but with "Troll 2," they became less certain of what they were involved in each time they went to a shoot.

"You can't piss on hospitality! I won't allow it!"

The wording of most of the lines in the movie is unnatural to say the least, as it was written by an ESL Italian woman. Cast members suggested that--knowing the general purpose of the lines--they might reword some of it to sound more American without losing any meaning. Floyd rudely denied this request, demanding they speak each line verbatim come Hell or high water, arguing that he was "more American than any American director," and as such, perfectly aware of how Americans spoke. As a result, we get exchanges like this:

    Elliott: I'm the victim of a nocturnal rapture. I have to release my lowest instincts with a woman.
    Holly: [Punches Elliott in the groin] Release your instincts in the bathroom.
    Elliott: Are you nuts? You tryin' to turn me into a homo?
    Holly: Wouldn't be too hard. If my father discovers you here, he'd cut off your little nuts and eat them. He can't stand you.

And this:

    Diana: Joshua, start singing. Come on, sing that song I like so much.
    Joshua: I don't feel like singing, Mom!
    Diana: Just sing.
    Joshua: [singing] Row, row, row your boat, gently down the stream...
    Diana, Joshua: [both singing] Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily. Life is but a dream...

Truthfully, I could probably just copy/paste the entire script in here and it would make for an enjoyable read, but better to watch the film and hear the horrendous delivery of the lines along with it.

"Dad?!"

What makes this film so wonderful, so darn likable, is its energy. Its confidence and passion for itself. Undeniably, it's a terrible movie, but no one bothered to tell anybody that while they were filming. Every line is delivered at the height of energy. Nothing is thrown away here. Everyone on screen is committed %110. This is probably because the filmmaker couple that produced it loved it. To this day they stand behind the film as great art, despite the fact that they know it has a reputation as being one of the worst films ever made. Floyd even went so far as to say that having someone tell you this is the worst movie ever made is the exact same thing as them saying it's the best movie ever made. (???)

"Try some, boy, and have some of your friends drink some also."

You go girl.

There are various production notes that would enrich the viewer's experience, but here are two that I feel are indispensable. A dentist who showed up hoping to be an extra in the movie, thinking it might be a fun experience, was cast as one of the main characters, Michael. He was chosen exclusively based on how he looked, and the fact that he was not an actor is more than apparent. The other interesting factoid is that the drugstore owner was cast using an inmate of a local insane asylum who was--get this--out on a one day pass. He has since been cured of his insanity and lives a more or less normal life. Of his role in the film, he has explained that the creepiness you see on screen is not acting, and that he was not fully aware at the time that he was in a movie.

After watching the film, it is an interesting exercise to try to make some sense out of it. I'm not going to get into all that here, but I challenge you and your friends to map out exactly what happened during the film, and--for maximum entertainment--what the supernatural rules are for this world. For example, if the movie were about vampires, you could make a list of rules the movie did or didn't employ. These vampires can't go outside during the daytime...they don't turn into bats...that sort of thing. What rules do the goblins here follow?

That's right. Hot. Sexy. Corn.

Finally, there is one last scene I'd like to address, though admittedly I could go on about "Troll 2" for maybe twenty or thirty pages. I am of course referring to the scene in which Creedence Leonore Gielgud (a gem among gems in this movie) goes to the boys' camper and seduces a young man with an ear of corn. Had it been intentional, this scene would deserve to go down in history's books as one of the greatest avant-guade displays of surreal comedy ever created in any medium. Everything in this four minute encounter should be intensely studied by writers and performers of comedy, from the slightly off-tune saxophone background music (which abruptly stops without the actress being informed, as she can be seen still gyrating slowly in the silence), to the inexplicable delivery of the line, "Actually I like popcorn," to the...well, I wouldn't want to spoil the scene's twist ending...

I'm sure I've rambled on enough about this. If you're still reading stop reading, and go watch yourself some "Troll 2!"

"I must do it! I must do it!"

-MA 7.29.2013

*The information on this film comes from various internet resources such as Wikipedia, as well as from the 2010 documentary "Best Worst Movie."

Ten New Songs - Leonard Cohen (Album)

Sorry I missed posting last week. I had my reasons.

You are probably familiar with one or more renditions of the song "Hallelujah." You know, the one that starts "I heard there was a secret chord..."? But in all likelihood you have never heard the original version, or anything sung by the song's writer, Leonard Cohen. If you are not acquainted  ith Cohen beyond having heard that one song, it may surprise you to know he has been inducted into the American Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, the Canadian Music Hall of Fame, and the Canadian Songwriters Hall of Fame. He is also a Companion of the Order of Canada, which Wikipedia ensures me is Canada's highest civilian honor.

"Who is this guy?" you might wonder, "And why have I never really heard of him?" Well, I don't know why you've never heard of him. Lack of good breeding probably has something to do with it. I first heard of Mr. Cohen in Nirvana's "Pennyroyal Tea," where Cobain asks--rather inexplicably--for a "Leonard Cohen afterbirth."

While he is perhaps best know for his writing of "Hallelujah," the 78 year-old singer/songwriter has been an active musician industry for the last five decades, and yes, he's still active to this day. He's written hundreds of songs, some as good as Hallelujah, and a great deal of them even better. His career is too big to cover in one blog post, but allow me to say that in the time he's been writing he has inspired thousands of artists and explored many different artistic venues.

One cannot help but compare his early albums with Dylan, but for the last twenty years or so he has utilized the feeling, mood, and instrumentation typical of southern gospel music, mixed with a dark folksiness that is all his own. Specifically, I want to draw your attention to his 2001 album Ten New Songs, which performed well in many countries, and went platinum in Canada and Poland (for some reason). In my opinion, this is almost a perfect album. Each song resonates. There are no thrown-away lines, or songs to fill the space between singles. Two solid years of production went into the album, and it shows.

Unfortunately, it has lost a lot of ground since it was released. Have you ever heard of it ? Probably not. This is an album to listen to with closed eyes, examining each word, then allowing them to wash over you. Cohen's voice is present on each track, but so is his group of gospel singers, which have been seamlessly incorporated into the music.

Cohen is a devout Jew, as well as an ordained Buddhist monk. He is a man of wisdom, and important truths are constantly explored, abandoned, forgotten, learned, and accepted throughout the body of this album. Everything seems effortless here. It is not an album that is trying to accomplish something, it simply does. I recommend listening to it about a dozen times. The songs are at times catchy, but there's a lot more going on here, and I challenge you to find it.

-MA 7.22.2013

Fiends - John Farris (Novel)

I'll be honest with you, dear reader, I'm having trouble starting this review. I'm tempted to tell you everything I know about Mr. Farris as a way to set the stage for my conflicting feelings about him, but as I began the task I realized that he's a difficult man to write about.

He's in his late seventies now, presumably not dead, although his Wikipedia page is rather unhelpful. If you were to go to a used bookstore right now and thumb to the "Also By John Farris" page near the front of whichever of his books you may find banished in the basement you might be lead to believe that his first novel was a shortish thriller/horror called "All Heads Turn When the Hunt Goes By" published in 1977. That would seem to make sense. His books would appear to fit nicely in the Horror genre, and a shortish novel is par for the course for an author's first book. There's just a small problem with that, though: by 1977 John Farris was already an established author, known for his Southern Gothic novels. His work actually spans back to the mid-fifties, having finished his first novel, Harrison High, (a fairly massive work tackling the then fledgling issue of crime committed by middle-class American youth) at the ripe old age of eighteen.

I guess what I'm trying to say--or at least cleverly illustrate--is that there's more to the professional Farris than a quick perusal of his work on the shelf will show. I could go on--oh, believe me I could--and tell you all about his various impacts in the industry (Stephen King practically wanted to be this guy when he grew up), but I think for my purposes that is enough. Obviously, reading a book or books by any given author is not enough to really "know them," but a reader will at least get a sense of the writer through their work. We understand a little bit about how they see the world, where injustice, excitement, and triumph lie on their personal maps, but with Farris I'm confused. One moment he seems filled with humanity, a great love for people, perhaps even a trust in people, the next moment he throws down a block of gory, detached, almost hateful prose as the characters we have grown to care for are torn apart without even the faintest feeling of sadness. On this page his politics seem conservative and rural, the next he is as liberal as a lesbian abortion specialist. Consider two passages, both from novels by Farris:

"That was a good summation you made at the school, Amy. You put together what we knew, and what we suspected, and what we hoped was true, you put it all together beautifully and it sounded good. But it wasn't the whole truth, because the truth is even more grotesque. We have to let it out though, Amy. We have to let it breath."

Do you hear the power of his writing? The simplicity and honesty of it? Now, the same man wrote this. The girl in the passage is fifteen, the man is in his thirties. They have never met before, but he knows who she is and is there to rescue her. She is wearing a hospital gown, so she is all but nude:

"[She] struck at him, then flinched when he brought his hand back. He kissed her instead, tenderly and with as much lust as he thought she might be familiar with at her age. [She] found this new approach confusing, shocking and indefensible, and as she grew slack in his arms gradually the kiss became a comfort to her. With his own eyes closed [He] readily lost awareness of her youth; the snug pressure of her uncovered c*** against his body was mature enough, even insinuating."

Ummm, what? Really? Really? That's how he's deciding to deal with this scene? Confusing to say the least.  Perhaps most jarring is his polar interest in literature and spectacle. What does he want these books to be? Page-turners? Allegories? Transcendent compositions? I'm really not sure. Some of the books are transcendent (and we'll get to one of those in a moment), but others...others seem only to exist as vehicles for action and weird ideas.

I realize The Fury was a big hit when it came out, but against his other books I'm happy to see the romp disintegrate into the past. It is a book I read then promplty disposed of mentally. It didn't touch me. It didn't even seem to try. I'm confused by its success, where so many other books of his are largely unknown.

I have no right saying this, as I know the man not at all, but I feel like even he does not have a clear vision of what he's trying to achieve. In this, I think, he is not so much an artist as a creator. There's certainly a connection between the two, but the difference (at least for my uses now) is that the creator creates in order to create, whereas the artist creates in order to have great art. Are his books great art? Yes, at least some of them. Is that the point? Maybe not.

This is much better than the cover of the version I have.

This brings us to one that was great: Fiends. The worst thing about it, regrettably, is the melodramatic title, but I guess that comes with the territory. As I read Fiends I was touched. Not just by the plight of the characters, though I was drawn in completely by them, by also by the possibility the art itself presents. This is art. Real art. Perfect as Horror, but equally compelling as pure fiction. Fiends is not about anything you typically find in a horror story, but there is a familiar sense to the creatures here. The huldufólk are from Icelandic myth, and are--as presented here--terrifying. 

This is an usual book. I've read a few reviews of it in which readers were disappointed, having expected something else. I'll tell you what you should expect going in to Farris' Fiends: nothing. Take the high road in your reading for this one. View it as a performance of writing and story-telling more than as some kind of packaged plot. Let our protagonist, the overweight, confident, and strong-willed Marjory, take you into her private self and through her nightmare journey beginning with the kindly--if confused--old man, Art.

This is a book to take in slowly, thoughtfully. That's not to say it isn't exciting or that it doesn't beg you to turn the next page, because it does. What I'm saying is that there is something here beyond the typical. Beyond trying to scare you or excite you or turn you on. I know I have a tendency to exaggerate the quality to work reviewed here, but I'm not going to apologize or even try to correct it when I say that I can't find the words to describe what I find so brilliant about this book. It is, to me, a secret gem buried in-between the passages. I only hope by giving instructions for reading that what I found in it will also reveal itself to you.

My final word to you on this is one I've expressed before: many of the best works ever created are not about what happens next.

-MA 07.08.2013

PS - And yes, I know I've talked about Farris before on this blog, but I chose not to refer to it as I've expanded my knowledge and feelings about his since then, and I feel that my review of Endless Night was inadequate to say the least.

Upstream Color - Carruth (Movie)

The intriguing poster
depicting the best moment in the film.

Welcome to Upstream Color, the second film by Shane Carruth. The first film was Primer, which I have reviewed on this blog as well. I'm locked in a battle with myself right now, trying to decide if I want to say that Upstream Color is my new favorite movie. I'm not sure if I'm ready to say that, as I've only seen it twice as opposed to the dozen-and-a-half or so views I've got under my belt for Primer, but it's safe to say that this is one of my favorite films of all time.

It's impossible to deal effectively with this film without referring to Primer, although the films are not actually in any kind of continuity with one another. However, it's clear that they are of the same school, namely the School of Carruth. It's not at all imperative to watch Primer before Upstream Color, but I recommend it. I do not believe Color would have been possible without Primer.

Like Primer, Color is a complex and provocative film. Intentionally confusing, the movie dares you to figure it out. Also like Primer (as well as another notable film that's been reviewed), this is not a movie you watch at the end of the day to unwind and have fun. (Goodbye half of the article's readers.) It's not the kind of movie you watch with a group of your buddies so you can laugh and chat over the film. If you hope to get anything out of Color, you're going to need to give it your full attention. And that is the main point I want to hit on today. This is a film that asks for your full attention, and really delivers.

Gross.

Too often, I fear, we as art intakers like what we like because we like it, not because it will enlarge or enrich us. I've said this (or something like it) before: there's more possible for art than we give art credit for. We live in a society of quick satisfaction. A world of "if it feels good do it." Now, I'm not saying there isn't a time and a place for relaxing or just good old-fashion fun. Of course there is. There is also a time and a place for being pushed around. For work. For giving up something for something better. That is the invitation extended by films like Upstream Color. It isn't easy to figure out. Nothing is given to the viewer on a silver platter. The scenes shift from one moment to the next in a disconcerting flash of colors and sounds. There are textures here. There are layers and layers of meaning.

You'll notice I haven't mentioned the plot or premise. This movie is about a pig farm. If that doesn't satiate your curiosity, then why not just watch the film? It's on Netflix right now. I, of course, suggest not looking up anything more about this film until after you've watched it.

What'd I tell you?

Watch it. Then watch it again. Marvel at how much you are being engaged. How much you are thinking. Don't expect to have fun (although you might)--expect to learn. This movie could just about give you a headache if you're not careful, not that I recommend caution here. Here is a film you give yourself to in at least some small way. This is an experimental film that pushes the edges a little. It doesn't really feel like just a movie. It is a philosophy. It is a performance. It is a living painting. But, perhaps above all this, it is a challenge.

Before wrapping up I feel it would be a mistake to not mention how excellent the acting is (especially from our leading lady Amy Seimetz), the cinematography, and Carruth's ability to be indulgent without ruining everything. In my own writing, this is something I envy greatly. Oh yes, I should also mention that as with Primer Carruth wrote, directed, produced, starred in, and composed the music for this film. Pretty sweet.

Alright, go to.

-MA 07.01.2014