MARX BROTHERS' DUCK SOUP (G)

Well, we didn't exactly have a Marx Brothers fest this weekend (as predicted earlier), but we did make a second attempt to charm son K with a Marx Brothers classic. I can't say it was a successful endeavor.

A few years ago, we tried Night at the Opera, but it was clear that K was too young to keep pace with the speedy dialogue and definitely too young to understand the humor. So, at age 12, we figured we'd try again; this is, after all, a kid who has grown up seeing black and white films of all kinds, and has a fairly mature sense of humor.

This time out, we tried Duck Soup ... but with pretty much the same results. Duck Soup is barely over an hour long, so not a huge time investment. Groucho is appointed leader of the country of Freedonia, and his brand of absurdist governing is hilarious at the same time it feels slightly dated and sexist. But his bluntly chauvinistic character is part of the charm (isn't it?) and so you don't really tsk tsk so much as you rather guiltily chuckle along to the gags. 

But of course, most of this inarguably adult humor is lost on kids.  

Unless you are dying to get a Marx Brothers fix yourself, and want to test your own kids' capacity for staccato one-liners and double entendres with phrases they may not be familiar with, I'd say these films are probably better saved for later.    

Near Miss: THE BEAR

This PG-rated, beautifully photographed 1989 film starts off so promising, feeling more like a cross between a documentary and a foreign film (it definitely does not feel American, and the director, Jean-Jacques Annaud, is French), but ultimately it becomes a victim of its own ambitions.

The lack of dialogue, realistic depiction of nature (you can smell the bear's matted fur and fetid breath, feel the buzzing flies on your skin), and stunning shots of Canada’s British Columbian mountainside eventually give way to overkill: copious amounts of what looks like red paint attempts to stand in for blood, the admittedly adorable orphaned bear cub starts to emit weird, humanlike sounds (to make us love it even more?), and a few scenes provoke chuckles where none are intended. (For example, the huge male grizzly who adopts our orphaned cub hooks up with a female, foaming-at-the-mouth hottie one night, and as they repair to the brush, grunting and groaning, the cub -- abandoned once again -- has his own party, ingesting some pretty, psilocybin mushrooms. Wacky animation ensues. It’s perhaps a bit too un-Disney.)

When our little orphan loses his mom in a rockslide in the opening scenes, the tragedy unfolds with a quiet matter-of-factness that keeps the tears at bay. The next morning, as the sun rises over distant mountains, and the cub wakes on a hillside, surveying life ahead without mama bear, you feel all the promise of what appears to be a very thoughtful film. Soon there is (drumroll) ... man, and an intense bit of “hunter vs. hunted” ensues (and more violence). There are some amazing scenes where you scratch your head and wonder, “how’d they do that?”, and a note at the beginning claiming that any “violence” done to the animals is, indeed, a trick of the camera reassures the viewer. (Ok, occasionally you wonder if the animals were really treated properly; there’s a scene where they clearly placed the little cub in a raging river and filmed him being swept away, helplessly clawing at rocks in desperation.)

There’s so much to admire about this film, that I really want to recommend it. But I just can’t do it.

Cinematographer Philippe Rousselot was nominated for an Academy Award, and he, the director, the editor, and the film itself were nominated for numerous other honors, and won a few, including the equivalent of a French Oscar.

But I still can’t recommend it.

NEAR MISS: MEATBALLS (1979)

Maybe this wasn’t a “near miss.” Maybe it’s a “Boy, is she dumb” miss, or a “How could she not have known?” miss.

Bill Murray. 1979. Was that enough of a tip-off? Perhaps. Perhaps I was in denial. Perhaps I should have dug harder around IMDB since Netflix offered no indication that user reviews like, “good family viewing,” were off the mark, unless they meant families with teenagers. Perhaps I should have questioned the “PG” rating since Meatballs was made in1979, and as I’ve noted before, PG now and PG then certainly seem to be different!

Anyway, this serves as notice that, lest you be enticed by Mr. Murray and his inarguable charms, or by the topic (shy boy comes out of shell at summer camp), or by the rave reviews on Netflix, this is far too rife with sexual innuendo to be appropriate for kids. We got into the first ten minutes or so, and after jokes about a “sex machine” counselor picking up ten nurses one night and only “three made it to work the next day” and about about the nice summer kids spending their parents’ money on “hookers from every country” and “raping and pillaging” their way through summer, we abruptly shut down.

Ok, so I’m not up on my Bill Murray like I should be (I do love the guy). Forgive me. But I’m here to serve.

NEAR MISSES PT. 2

Ok, the last in our recent Trio of Failure is -- hard to believe, but true -- the lovable screwball comedy Bringing Up Baby (1938). Delightful! Charming! Hilarious! And with star power like Katharine Hepburn (oh, there she is again!) and Cary Grant, you just can’t go wrong -- right?

Well, I have to say it was a FAIL for K. Now, it may be different with your kids (and I’m wondering if girls may respond differently than boys: the costuming is just eye popping, with nightgowns that rival today’s Oscar gowns, and it is, after all, a love story at heart). But my kid got bored rather quickly with the storyline of the pet leopard (“Baby”) and our hero’s attempt to disentangle himself from the leopard owner (Hepburn), who’s a walking disaster and accident magnet, and who has fallen hopelessly in love with Grant the day before his wedding.

Screwball comedies work because the dialog is so robust, so sparkling and fast moving, full of wit and double entendres, that if you tune out for a second you might miss the best line; each one seems better than the previous.

But even if you have a smart, fast-thinking kid (who is also accustomed to black and white films, so no distraction there), they just won’t get some of the lingo, and let’s face it: they want more action, and less talk.

Susan Vance (trying to convince a cop she’s a gang moll and Grant is a gangster): Sure, I wouldn't be squealing on him if he didn't give me the run-around with that other twist.
Constable Slocum: Oh, so he's a lady killer.
Susan Vance: A lady killer! He's a regular Don Swan. Loves the ladies, don't ya, honey (glancing at Grant)? He pops them off, one, two, three.

I’m sure K had no idea what any of that meant (and the lines were delivered with machine-gun speed).

K kept reaching for the remote to skip through the movie (and I kept slapping his hand), grimacing and saying, “This scene is just too long.” I must admit his reaction was disappointing.

So keep this in mind with the "screwball comedies" of the ‘30s and ‘40s. They’re marvelously entertaining for adults, but I suspect they don’t quite connect with most kids.

Although, I just added Mr. Smith Goes to Washington to our Netflix list. I loved that film, and am busily convincing myself that K will love it, too.

NEAR MISSES PT. 1

It’s all fine and well to write about films we like and recommend, but it’s just as helpful to tell you about our failed experiments, too.

First up, briefly, I was actually looking forward to City of Ember, thinking it might be a kind of Bladerunner for kids and offer them a more sophisticated movie experience. I honestly didn’t pay much attention to the reviews, so if it received a generally lukewarm or thumbs-down response, and you already know this, apologies for being late to the game.

We rented it recently and as much as I liked the visuals and the texture of the movie, it lacked a strong core. The message was clear (it’s an environmental fable), but for some reason it just misses the mark. The main thing I want to convey here is that it is a rather dark film, and if you’re considering it for kids under 10, you may want to reconsider. Many unpleasant things plague this underground society, and one of them is a truly hideous and horrific monster that would scare the pants off most kids. (I hated this thing.)

So, City of Ember: a reluctant Don’t Go There.

Next, I listened to my inner voice and watched a true classic, The Lion in Winter (1968), with Katharine Hepburn and Peter O’Toole, on my own. I’d seen a comment on Netflix saying “Even though it’s rated PG, it’s not for kids,” but they didn’t say why. (The parental warning content on IMDB was also scant.) I’d put it on my Netflix list because it’s a classic I’ve never seen (we have hundreds of films on our Netflix list; how many do you have? Are we crazy to think we’ll see them all?) and I thought, when it arrived, it would appeal to K, who of course gets excited by all things medieval right now. (The year is 1183, and King Henry II gathers his family -- including the exiled Queen Eleanor of Aquitaine -- for Christmas in 1183; he intends to name one of his sons successor to the throne.)

I knew it features a dysfunctional family, to put it mildly, full of betrayal and scheming and lies, and figured there may be some bloodshed, but, considering K’s Xbox games, I wasn’t too worried. But for some reason, I decided to watch it one evening when K was elsewhere, just following a hunch, and was glad I did. Yes, it’s a Machiavellian Home for the Holidays, and is a very adult story, with complex relationship issues (loving a spouse you despise and keep locked in a tower!), and sibling rivalry that is literally murderous. But beyond that, there are issues such as the king’s sexual promiscuity and his young mistress (whom he wants to marry off to a son, intending to continue their relationship), the homosexuality of another son, the queen’s alleged dalliance with the king’s father, etc., not to mention references to syphilis and sleeping with sheep.

So much for a lighthearted historical romp at the movies.

Whew. PG? Are they kidding?

For you grown-up types, it’s a stunning piece of Oscar-winning cinema, and something to see if you haven’t. The script is awesome, and Hepburn is of course brilliant and sharp as a dagger. The chemistry between her and Peter O’Toole is super charged, and two hours just fly by. For this one, I say, Date Night!

Eleanor: Henry?
Henry II: Hmmm?
Eleanor: I have a confession.
Henry II: Yes?
Eleanor: I don't much like our children!

My last in the Trio of Failure taps into a whole genre, which may be particularly useful for you. I’ll post that tomorrow.