Category Archives: movies

Why You Laugh and Cry

Cry

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

May 16, 2010

The other day I got sucked into a movie I didn’t want to see.  It wasn’t because I don’t like the movie or that I was humoring my wife (well, okay, I was… a little).  It’s because I didn’t want to cry… and I knew that movie would make me cry.

There are certain movies that make me cry, guaranteed.  And Steel Magnolias is one of them.  Go on, laugh.  But you watch it again and you’ll know what I mean.

You see, the first time you watch a movie that makes you cry, you don’t cry like the second time, or third time, or fourth time you watch it.  That’s because the first time you watch it, it’s unexpected.  It either sneaks up on you or hits you all of a sudden, and the cry just kinda comes out of you from surprise.

The next time you watch a cry movie, you know you are going to cry.  From the minute the credits roll, you know there is going to come that scene or scenes that will open the flood gates to your heart.

Crying isn’t bad.  In fact it is very healthy.  But crying when you don’t want to but you know you will is awkward.  Because you cry when something is true, but it is so goddamned sad, like when Sally Fields finally breaks down after her daughter’s funeral with her untethered tirade about how unfair and senseless death is. 

That is very true.  And it is so goddamned sad.

The upside to all of this is that most movies that make you cry usually also make you laugh… for the same reasons.  Like when Dolly Parton says: “Time marches on and eventually you realize it’s marching across your face.”

That is very true.  And it is also goddamned sad.  But it is exceptionally funny.

The Lost Poem

05953211_

November 29, 2009

Some may disagree, but when you are drunk on a Saturday night and you’re in the mood for a good standby movie, something lighthearted and fun with some good laughs and a little intrigue, “So I Married An Axe Murderer” fits the bill. Mike Myers (of Austin Powers and Wayne’s World fame) plays Charlie McKenzie, a man afraid of commitment until he meets Harriet (Nancy Travis), who works at a butcher shop and may be a serial killer.

Those familiar with the movie are familiar with Charlie’s penchant for beat poetry and his short performances backed by a 3-piece ensemble at a local San Francisco coffee house. His “Woman” poem seems familiar with the customers as he stands before a backdrop photograph of his latest lost flame, accompanied by a familiar, if iconic, jazz riff, as he blurts:

Woman
Whoah man
Whooaaah man
She was a thief
You gotta belief
She stole my heart and my cat
Betty
Judy
Josie and those hot Pussy Cats
They make me horny
Saturday morny
Girls of cartoons
Will leave you in ruins
I want to be Betty’s Barney
Hey Jane, get me off this crazy thing… called love

Then he blows out a votive candle. Funny stuff. There are two more poem performances in the movie. One is after Charlie breaks up with Harriet after suspecting her of being a serial killer. It’s in the same club, with the same musical accompaniment as the first (and likely the same audience), with a large photo backdrop of Harriet behind Charlie:

Woman
Whoah man
Whooaaah man
We had love, not just sex
Is she Missus ‘X’?
I had to run for my life
Jane, get me off of this crazy thing… called love

This time he considers blowing out the votive candle, but doesn’t, leaving it burning on the barstool next to him instead. And then there is the last poem that Charlie chants to Harriet on her rooftop apartment, as he tries to woo her back:

Harriet
Harry-it
Hard-hearted harbinger of haggis
Beautiful, bemused, bellicose butcher
Untrusting
Unknowing
Unlove… ed?
“He wants you back,” he screamed into the night
Like a fireman going to a window that has no fire
Except for the passion of his heart
I am lonely
It’s really hard
This poem… sucks?

Ha, ha… it never gets old. But did you realize that there is a fourth poem in the movie? It never becomes part of Charlie’s performances, but it is in the movie, nonetheless. It is a darker poem; one that shows Charlie’s true fears of Harriet’s presumed identity. Don’t remember it?

When Charlie first breaks up with Harriet we find him sitting by the water at night writing in his black bound poetry book. We briefly see what he is writing before he swiftly scratches it out and closes the book. You wouldn’t be able to read it; the scene goes by so fast. But if you pause the movie just right, the poem is quite telling:

O butcher lady
Killer of sheep
And men
Untrusting
Unknowing
Unloving
THIS POEM SUCKS

Obviously, he revises elements of it and it becomes the latter poem to woo her back, but what a candid view into Charlie’s thought process at the time and what an interesting insert into the movie! Watching the scene at face value, you might think Charlie is pining for Harriet, remorseful for rejecting her.

But really, he is struggling with Harriet’s identity as a cold blooded killer and how he could possibly fall in love with someone so monstrous.

It is somewhat Tarantino-esque.

The Elusive Stomach Pounder

6a00cdf7e37f6d094f00e398b786c80002-500pi

October 25, 2009

From John Carpenter’s 1979 movie “The Fog”:

Stevie Wayne: “Good morning, Andrew. Did you have a nice time last night?”
Andrew: “Yeah. Old Mr. Machen told us ghost stories.”
Stevie Wayne: “Did you thank Mrs. Kobritz for bringing you home?”
Andrew: “Yes, ma’am. Mom, can I have a stomach pounder and a Coke?”
Stevie Wayne: “After lunch.”
Andrew: “OK.”

So what exactly is a stomach pounder?

Every once in awhile you run across a reference to some type of food and you ask yourself what it is. So you go get a cookbook, or you call up your mom, or you go to the internet and you get the recipe.

But nobody knows what the heck is being referenced in John Carpenter’s movie. A stomach pounder. Sounds yummy, huh? It sounds like some thick, meaty type of food that would bust your gut, like a cheeseburger or lasagna. In fact, if you try to look it up on the internet that is what some folks think it is.

But that wouldn’t make sense.

Why would Andrew want anything of substance after lunch? Wouldn’t he be full after lunch? A Coke would go down good after lunch. So would a stomach pounder, apparently. A Coke is sweet. People eat sweet things after meals. So rather than something of substance, wouldn’t it make sense that a stomach pounder is something sweet?

The movie is from 1979. A candy was introduced in 1975 and then pulled from the shelves in 1983. The candy fizzed and popped in your mouth as it mixed with your saliva. Rumors persisted during that time that eating it while drinking a coke would cause your stomach to explode. In fact, it soon became legendary to causing the death of famous Life cereal commercial spokes-child, Little Mikey.

Wrong. The actor who played Little Mikey is alive. And the explosive confection was not pulled from the shelves because it busted people’s guts open and killed them. It didn’t. It is the same nonsense about not throwing rice at weddings because birds will eat it, drink water, and die from the expanding rice. It is an Urban Legend.

The candy was pulled from the shelves because of poor shelf life. Due of its popularity, it was being re-sold and unauthorized redistribution caused out-of-date product to reach consumers. So what was this volatile treat?

Pop Rocks.

A kid from 1979 would likely have Pop Rocks and a Coke after lunch. The term “stomach pounder” served as a colloquialism to add flavor to the script, in addition to referencing the myth surrounding the candy’s gastronomical effects. Mystery solved.

Thanks go to my wife, Shandell, for figuring this out.