Risque summer films risk disaster, tasteless humor

Monday, September 28, 1998

Risque summer films risk disaster, tasteless humor

FILM: Past months’ trends include thankful end

to special effects movies, rise in raunch, aging actors

Well, summer ’98 is over, and as a film columnist, I feel it is
my duty to inform the public of my personal opinion about the many
films that were released between Memorial Day and Labor Day. Don’t
bother to thank me, I’m just doing my job.

First and foremost, let me thank whichever Hollywood executive
out there decided to kill the trend of "disaster movies," which
after three long years is finally winding down. True, this summer
had its fair share of movies, in which New York was mercilessly
destroyed by reptiles or storms or asteroids or whatever, but a
glimpse at the release schedule from now on reveals that summer ’98
signals the death knell of this repetitive, boring, ludicrously
formulaic genre.

It’s not very hard to see why Hollywood would tire of making
these movies. Not only are films incredibly expensive to make
("Armageddon" is rumored to have cost in the neighborhood of $150
million), but any filmmaker who ever had the smallest desire to
make an entertaining or meaningful film would reject putting
something like "Godzilla" on celluloid. Naturally, Roland Emmerich
had no problem with it.

So summer ’98 was our last chance to get a look at some disaster
movies, and as much as I hate to admit it, "Armageddon" is probably
the best of the whole lot. Bear in mind, that’s not saying much, as
the average disaster movie had about as much character development
and plot as amateur gay porn. But at least "Armageddon" had some
cool special effects, a ton of explosions and scene after scene of
"hunk du-jour" Ben "Look-At-My-Muscles-In-This-Wife-Beater" Affleck
making a total jerk out of himself. "Armageddon" also has the tact
not to consider itself a real movie, a hurdle which "Twister,"
"Deep Impact," "Volcano" and countless other disaster films never
quite cleared. But fortunately, their time has passed and paved the
way for whatever lame-brained Hollywood theme the executives are
busy cranking out right now.

On a happier note, this summer was without a doubt the most
risky and innovative summer movie season in recent memory. Whereas
studios usually reserve anything brainy or original for the fall
and winter, this year movies such as "The Truman Show," "Saving
Private Ryan" and "Bulworth" were given a chance to compete, and
many of them did surprisingly well. Studios also scored more with
comedies in 1998 than in years past, with 20th Century Fox
benefiting from both "Dr. Dolittle" and "There’s Something About
Mary," two of the more profitable films of the year.

Lately, however, it seems as if Hollywood has been overrun by a
decidedly childish mentality. And though accusing movies of being
juvenile is certainly not the most original argument voiced in
America, 1998 has demonstrated a different type of mass immaturity
than any other recent year of cinema. Instead of attempting to
attract the all-important adolescent male set with explosions and
naked women (although there is still more than enough of this to go
around), Hollywood has recently developed a penchant for potty
humor.

This is not to say that raunchy comedy films are a new
development. Landmark comedies including "Some Like It Hot,"
"Blazing Saddles" and "A Fish Called Wanda" all rely in some way or
another on silly or outrageous gags for big laughs. Yet, 1998 has
thus far brought us films that joke about masturbation, kinky sex,
male rape, female puberty, over-sized male genitalia, bestiality
and anal intrusion. And this is just "BASEketball."

No, actually, "BASEketball" is not the year’s lone offender.
Other comedies this year that push the boundary of good taste (and
sometimes just demolish it all together) include "There’s Something
About Mary," "Slums of Beverly Hills," "Senseless," "Your Friends
and Neighbors," "Mafia!," "Dr. Dolittle" and "Wrongfully
Accused."

And just in case any of you out there think this is totally
normal and that any year held up to intense scrutiny will reveal
the same quotient of bawdy humor, consider this dismaying
statistic: Three different films this summer included jokes about
large objects being placed up animal’s butts.

Don’t believe me? "Dr. Dolittle" had an extended sequence in
which an inept veterinarian analyzed a dog’s rear end, only to
loose his probe inside the animal. "Mafia!" employed a plot point
in which a young Sicilian boy hid from the Mob inside a donkey’s
butt. Finally, "Wrongfully Accused" found Leslie Nielsen feeding a
dog treats but confused the animal’s head for its butthole. This
does not even begin to mention the cruelty to one specific dog in
"Something About Mary."

Now, I mention this more as an interesting trend than something
to be terribly concerned about. Sometimes, raunchy films are just
what the doctor ordered. It’s often fun to sit back and enjoy being
shocked and appalled, laughing at things which you ordinarily would
not find terribly funny. Take "Mary," for instance. A basic plot
outline of the film reads more like the Marquis de Sade’s "to-do"
list than a synopsis of a major studio film: "Young attractive
woman with a penchant for sports and a retarded brother is courted
by several stalkers, one of whom poses as a paraplegic and another
who is a compulsive masturbator and convicted sodomite." Makes me
laugh.

What made that movie funny was the deft way the comedy was
handled – light enough so that it was obvious no one was taking
this story seriously, least of all the filmmakers. That is the
lesson to be learned from the success of "Mary": Anything can be
funny, as long as funny and talented people are making it.

This also evidences why so many of these disgusting films are so
miserable to watch ("Mafia!" comes immediately to mind). The
filmmakers assume that people are guaranteed to laugh merely if the
gross-out quotient is high enough. To this end, they put in
thousands of random, unfunny toilet jokes in the hopes that raunch
can replace creativity. Guess what? It can’t.

While we’re on the subject of disturbing sources of humor, a few
words about "Your Friends and Neighbors." This film took a lot of
flak, much like Neil La Bute’s previous work "In the Company of
Men." Yes, these films include more misogynist banter than Andrew
Dice Clay and Howard Stern having a conversation at a booth in a
topless bar during a Militia Convention. But, the film isn’t about
hating women – it’s really about what bizarre, evil, sick bastards
most men are, and the characters talk in ways that many guys think
but are either too scared or uneducated to verbalize. Just because
a film includes characters who are unsavory or loathsome doesn’t
mean the movie is that way.

Whew. Glad to get that off my chest. So, the underlying point is
that Hollywood better be careful. A little dirty humor goes a long
way, and unless the people making these mastur-pieces are original,
funny, creative and clever, their movies are going to sink faster
than a frozen Leonardo DiCaprio with a 20-ton weight tied around
his ankles.

As if gross-out humor wasn’t trend enough for summer ’98, there
also was the latent "passing of the torch" theme found in just
about every action release this year. Basically, 1998 has been
crammed full of movies in which older actors, many of whom were the
biggest box office draws only a few years ago, give way to the new
crop of action stars.

For example, in "The Mask of Zorro," Anthony Hopkins (who only a
few years ago was the villainous Hannibal Lecter) finds himself too
old and feeble to carry on his swashbuckling duties, instead
offering the job to young, virile Antonio Banderas. As well,
"Armageddon" saw aging Bruce Willis give up his daughter and his
leading-man status to my favorite young actor and yours, Ben
"I’m-Much-Prettier-Than-Matt-Damon" Affleck. "Avengers" managed to
transform Sean Connery from dashing hero to lunatic mad scientist;
Michael Douglas gave up cheating on his wife in "A Perfect Murder"
and instead started having his wife cheat on him; "Lethal Weapon 4"
found Mel Gibson admitting finally that he was "too old for
this."

It’s unclear exactly why this is happening all of a sudden.
Logic would dictate that each of these actors would decide at
different times when they should turn in their testosterone in
favor of Viagra, but instead most of Hollywood’s aging A-list chose
this year to bow gracefully out of the action spotlight.

Gracefully – a word not often used in reference to Hollywood.
But, if summer ’98 has taught us anything, it’s that sometimes a
little creativity and wit is more successful than all of the
shrapnel and asteroids that $200 million can buy. Unless, of
course, your name happens to be James Cameron.

Harris is a third-year history student and the A&E film
editor for 1998-1999.

Lonnie Harris

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