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Why do otherwise rational people believe in the weirdest of things, in the face of incontrovertible evidence to the contrary? This is the question lurking in the background of Errol Morris’s new documentary, Mr. Death: The Rise and Fall of Fred A. Leuchter, Jr. Powerful and disturbing, this is a startling portrait of man so blinkered by vanity that he lives in a fantasy world of his own making, rationality be damned.
And sure enough, with The Hurricane, Washington does finally join the rank of actors capable of delivering a performance that packs an emotional wallop. All it took was a role that is at least as physical as it is cerebral.
Turning a television show into a religion was an oddity, to say the least, when Star Trek fans first did so back in the 70s. Today, pop culture is just about the only touchstone Generation Xers have, so it’s perhaps not a coincidence that within the space of a year, two movies tried to sort out exactly what Star Trek means to the faithful. Trekkies and Free Enterprise couldn’t be two more different films, but each has a deep and abiding love of Star Trek at its core.
Just as those who don’t understand the appeal of Star Trek will never get it, the charm of Galaxy Quest is probably limited to those of us already within the geek realm. So, it’s one more bit of fun we’ll hog for ourselves.
In fact, Dickens might have written something like Scrooged, an 80s, greed-isn’t-good update of the Dickens classic. The wittiest satire of television since Network, Scrooged gives us Frank Cross (Bill Murray: cradle, rushmore), the ‘youngest president in the history of television,’ the maniacal — and megalomanaical — head of the IBC TV network.
I still mourn for Kermit — and for Jim Henson — though. The lamentable Bob Cratchit seems the ideal character for the creature who sang the melancholy and winsome “It’s Not Easy Being Green.” The Muppet Christmas Carol never achieves the delicate pathos it might have if Jim Henson had still been there for his froggy alter ego.
Okay, so it’s not a movie. But Blackadder’s Christmas Carol is my favorite variation on the beloved Charles Dickens story of one man’s dramatic change of heart. Remember, though, dear reader, to take into account that I am a heartless bitch — anyone with an ounce of sentiment will be thoroughly appalled by this entirely mean-spirited black comedy.
White Christmas is billed as a remake of Holiday Inn, but the only thing these two films have in common is Bing Crosby singing the most beautiful secular Christmas carol, Irving Berlin’s ‘White Christmas’ (which was originally written for Holiday Inn). White Christmas isn’t as delightful as its supposed predecessor, but if for no other reason, it’s worth seeing for a gorgeously simple arrangement of the title tune, which Crosby croons accompanied only by a windup music box.
God, I love those snarky 40s comedies in which there’s just a bit of meanness under the humor. Holiday Inn is, of course, filled with the kind of pretty Christmas songs and picture-postcard scenes of snow and horse-drawn sleighs that make for beloved holiday movies. But there’s also some darkness lurking here.
Little did I know when I reviewed Jingle All the Way that it is part of a trend in 90s holiday movies in which inattentive, workaholic Boomer dads go all out in attempts to win back the affections of their young, ignored sons. But while Jingle’s Arnold has to resort to a girly endeavor like shopping in the effort to appease his spawn, The Santa Clause’s Tim Allen and Jack Frost’s Michael Keaton have a much cooler alternative: magic. Allen deals in white magic; Keaton’s, unfortunately, is of the darker variety.
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