Little Shop of Horrors (Frank Oz, 1986)

In an era whereby Avenue Q and Book of Mormon dominate the musicals on the West End, we mustn’t forget the imaginative and darkly joyous cult favourite Little Shop of Horrors. In fact, Little Shop of Horrors boasts the master duo of Alan Menken and Howard Ashman penning the lyric and music respectively. These are the force that pulled Disney from the dumps and to the heights of The Little Mermaid, Aladdin and Beauty and the Beast only a few years later. Little Shop of Horrors is a feast to devour, and you’d be foolish not to give it a taste.

Seymour (Rick Moranis) works, and lives, on Skidrow. He is madly in love with busty colleague Audrey (Ellen Greene) and despite the abuse he receives from flower-shop owner Mr Mushnik (Vincent Gardenia), he appreciates the roof provided. This is a self-proclaimed rock-horror musical akin to the wickedly delightful Rocky Horror Picture Show. Its B-Movie story is taken straight from a 1960, Roger Corman farce and manages to weave its memorable melodies (including favourites Skidrow (Downtown), Suddenly Seymour and Academy Award nominee Mean Green Mother from Outer Space) seamlessly into the monster-munching narrative. The animation of ‘the plant’, named Audrey II, is flawless as Levi Stubbs provides fast-talkin’ vocals that the puppeteers cleverly navigate. This director’s cut is a real wonder to watch at the cinema too, with a spectacular finale that reverses the original ‘happy’ ending with a special-effects savvy anti-ending with only the destruction of the world in sight – a treat that has only been available since 2012.

Watching Little Shop of Horrors also reveals cameos from the cream of the crop of American comedians in the 1980’s. Bill Murray, James Belushi, John Candy and Steve Martin all make exceptional, memorable appearances. Rick Moranis, a staple of the eighties within Ghostbusters and Honey I Shrunk the Kids, is rarely seen today and the little shop really does make you miss his wide-eyed helplessness that make his characters so much fun.


Little Shop of Horrors manages to make light of a broad range of incredibly dark subjects, whether it is the abusive boyfriend of Audrey, Seymours suicide attempt or the gross poverty of an inner-city. Audrey II represents much more than an entertaining, wise-cracking monster. Audrey II could be consumerism, and our own addiction to shopping and products. Could the plant be about vices? About our struggle to control our urges - no matter how destructive the consequences? In fact, Audrey’s song Somewhere That’s Green alludes to this dreamy sense of happiness. She wants Seymour and she wants to be happy – but the Better Homes magazine is what instructs and describes her happiness. She needs a shiny, chrome toaster and a Tupperware seller to know who she is – and to prove her pleasure. But Audrey is quite clearly played as a ditzy blonde, and surely not the peak of forward-thinking womanhood. Furthermore, the success of the off-Broadway show in 1982 connects the film to Nixon’s presidency, whereby bit-by-bit, the corporate American Dream convinced many - but left many more behind in the gutter (a literal gutter, opposed to ‘The Gutter’ club where Audrey met her boyfriend).

This is a wonderful success, managing to balance cheeky-songs, potentially-poignant subtext and a cast that defines the era it was made within. Little Shop of Horrors plays as part of the BFI’s ‘Cult’ strand that began in January. The experience of watching the ‘Directors Cut’ of Little Shop shows how unique these screenings are – and you can bet they’ll be many more in the coming year. Audrey II’s famous phrase “feed me!” only seems appropriate when treats like this are on the platter every month.

The Green Ray (Eric Rohmer, 1986)

It is a timeless fact that your mid-twenties can be a daunting place. Richard Linklater’s Boyhood has won plaudits this year by only taking the young man to his late teens – Eric Rohmer, an inspiration to Linklater, is more interested in the summer of a single woman in her mid-twenties. Both filmmakers’ know how to capture a moment and freely utilise the flexibility of acting and truth to adapt and develop their art. Rohmer, in The Green Ray, even credits his lead actress Marie Rivière as co-script-writer to prove her crucial involvement. The Green Ray is deeply personal, capturing the brutal honesty of loneliness with an optimistic attitude towards finding your fated one.

The opening of The Green Ray reveals Delphine (Rivière) picking up a phone call from a friend. Due to start her holiday, she unexpectedly has her plans change as the friend cancels. Torn between what to do, she tastes a little bit of the summer by visiting friends and family. She enjoys meals and wanders the beautiful hills of the French Alps. She ventures to rural beaches and contemplates the future and sunbathes on the tourist resorts, considering whether to hunt a man as she reflects on what she has to offer. Sequences are dated, as a visual diary, as Rohmer manages to capture her stolen glances and considered thoughts. There is truth in Rivière’s eyes as a moment resting on a wooden gate manages to reduce her to tears. In fact, we see many moments whereby Delphine cries. Her despair at the situation she’s in is only amplified by her self-chosen isolation. She wants sun, so refuses to go to Ireland. She doesn’t eat meat or sail and therefore cannot partake in many meals and jaunts into the sea. Only the momentary glance at a gentleman in a train station changes her fate – as they await the green ray on the horizon in St. Jean de Luz.

The title is taken from a Jules Verne novel from 1882, whereby “heroes” search for the green ray in the sunset of Scotland. The locations Delphine visits manage to conjure up a sense of romance, warmth and happiness – a stark contrast to the lonesome, sadness we see in her eyes. There is a soothing familiarity in her tenderness. When she opens up to her friends, you can feel her frustration. Her stubborn self-confidence in her decisions can’t mask her human frailty and a desire to be with someone. Can she be with previous lover, Jean-Pierre, again? She explains how she has been in love three times and had a fiancé, but this does not give her courage. The mystical green-ray is the only sign she needs. Akin to the tarot cards she finds and the green clothes worn by characters. Auspicious moments such as these are what move her forward, not bullish man-hunting that can be found in her new friend in Biarritz.

This reality is what draws us to The Green Ray. And what draws us to Francois Truffaut. And to Richard Linklater. Like Jesse and Cèline in Before Sunset, the emotional connection is one we all feel. Delphine’s truth is what deepens our respect for filmmaker Eric Rohmer, who has the confidence to simply observe those personal moments. None of the pretentiousness of Woody Allen’s upper-class or Richard Curtis’ smart-alec characterisations. The respect we hold is one of honesty. It’s the reason why Rohmer, and the French New Wave, is so important. Life isn’t glossy and Hollywood. It is the longest take and it never cuts away. That’s what Rohmer tries to do - and that’s what makes it a glorious experience to view on the cinema screen.

Written originally for Flickering Myth on January 2nd 2015

150W: Hannah and Her Sisters

Short reviews for clear and concise verdicts on a broad range of films...

Hannah and Her Sisters (Dir. Woody Allen/1986)

Breaking the mirror into three pieces, Woody Allen uses himself, Michael Caine and Max Von Sydow to depict the regretful, lustful and intellectual sides to his personality respectively. The sisters that bind these men together are central to the story as we find how Hannah (Mia Farrow) and her sisters (Barbara Hershey and Dianne Wiest). Elliot (Caine) is married to Hannah and falls for her sister Lee (Hershey); Lee is romantically involved with Frederick; Holly (Wiest) is the final sister who’s restless as her partner-to-be (and Hannah’s ex-husband), hypochondriac Mickey (Allen), is undergoing a crisis of faith. Such personal themes regarding faith and love are tackled sensitively and balanced well with measured comedy that shows maturity and intellect. Allen is confident in his direction, framing moments from obscure angles and capturing the drama within the context of three Thanksgivings. Well-written women and weighty ideas prove how impressive Allen truly is.

Rating: 8/10

Top Gun (Tony Scott, 1986)

"I feel the need...the need for speed!"

Introduction

Watching a film feels far more comfortable with a cold beer and hot pizza in hand. The Prince Charles Cinema, off Leicester Square, is home to evenings that celebrate "old school" classics including Tank Girl and Road House amongst many more. Top Gun was recently screened in this manner, and I can only recommend the evening.

What separates Top Gun from the multiple "cult-classics" of the 1980's, is rather than electro-pop and big-hair  (though this is included), Top Gun includes dog-fight aeronautical action-scenes that adhere to the "MTV aesthetics" that led to the dominant style of filmmaking in mainstream action. Ridley and Tony Scott emerged from the (British) world of advertising - as did Fatal Attraction's Adrian Lyne - and moved into filmmaking through producers Don Simpson and Jerry Bruckheimer at Paramount Studios. To be trained in filmmaking by creating short, less-than-a-minute adverts that grab your attention and stay in your mind, is a style of shooting and editing that hadn't crossed over into feature-filmmaking - until the mid-eighties. During this period, "the average shot length dropped an astonishing 40 per cent, from 10 seconds to 6"*, so despite the cult-following that Top Gun garnered, it truly is a staple of US cinema by establishing a style of filmmaking that continues to this day as pace and "non-stop action" remains at the heart of blockbuster films. 

Predictable, but Fast

Opening on fact-like text, gives a sense of importance: This is the military - we don't joke. This immediatly changes as synthesizers and iconic 80's pop thump on the soundtrack. The moment is similar to the use of "Push it to the Limit" in Scarface - with both films tackling masculinity and power. Combine the male camraderie with the quick-cutting and flawless MiG manouvres and within seconds Tony Scott has grabbed our shirt and firmly taken our attention. We're in the "Danger Zone" as pilots swoop and twist around in - and beneath - various multi-million dollar aircrafts. There is a sense of awe, coupled with an immedicency as pilots communicate using pilot-jargon - "you got a 'bogey' on your tail!" or "this 'mig' can't handle that type of speed" (or words to that effect). Roger Ebert says "It knows exactly what to do with special effects" - and, as the director of Enemy of the State, Man on Fire and True Romance, we know from Tony Scott, action is his strongest asset.

Characterisation and heartfelt story-telling on the other hand is not his strong-suit and the many clanger-lines, but apparently "romantic" moments are unforgiving - to the point that I would argue that the cult-following largely stems from the laughable moments of romance and friendship that often feel forced and predictable. Haunted by his missing Father, Maverick (Tom Cruise) and his partner Goose (Anthony Edwards) are promoted to an elite flying-school, in the hope of becoming "Top Gun" - amongst many pilots, Iceman (Val Kilmer) aspires for the same badge of honour. Inevitably, Maverick falls for Astro-physician and 'Top Gun' instructor Charlie (Kelly McGillis) and he slowly begins to realise that becoming 'Top Gun' is not as easy as it seems.

Homosexuality Subtext

Any half-interested film viewer will be hard pressed to ignore the homosexual subtext to the film - and that rather than a film about pilots challenging and pushing themselves to the limit, it is apparently a film about a man coming to terms with his sexuality. The tension is clearly between Iceman and Maverick, as Iceman attempts to "win" Maverick to his side of the team and there is a crucial, awkward set-up as Maverick doesn't consumate his relationship with Charlie in the first instance - taking a shower and then leaving. The uniformed appearance of all the pilots even adheres to the gay stereotype, something well-known by pop bands such as The Village people in the late 1970's. The motorbike representing Maverick's masculine identity and even the love-interest has a genderless name in 'Charlie', further confusing these themes. Ultimately, each pilot has a partner - in their wingman - and Maverick's partner, Goose, has a name that has a sexual undertone as it is akin to the slang term to "goose" somebody.~

But the eroticised men playing volleyball takes a different interpretation as Mark Cousins compares the depiction of masculinity, and power, to Leni Riefensthal's Olympia, whereby she was tasked to depict German Olympian's in 1936 - championing the superior beings and transmitting it across Germany (and indeed, the world) as World War II began. Cousins writes how Top Gun "celebrated ... masculinity and patriotism as Leni Riefensthal had done with her characters". Furthermore, he simplifies the story as a "study in power rather than character".

This argument is against the aforementioned subtext, and may be more about attracting a female audience rather than purposefully building-in a controversial theme amongst a clearly butch film. Joanna Berry believes Tom Cruise is portraying a  "macho but deep-down-I'm-sensitive performance [that] appealed to the female audience", and even in the sex it is shot sensitively with romantic, moody music as characters are in silhouette (tongues licking in the dark...). 

Influence

The use of The Righteous Brothers 'You've lost that loving feeling' immediately recalls Ghost and Dirty Dancing's 1960's soundtrack, released in 1990 and 1987 respectively. It seems that is part and parcel of the films at the time and, though the clear influence became Hot Shots!, any film with vehicles and men facing off against each other since Top Gun owe something to Tony Scott's flight-film. How perfect that this weekend see's the release of Fast & Furious 6 - a series that owes much more to Top Gun than it lets on. Indeed, I believe there is a theory about a gay-subtext in 2 Fast 2 Furious ... 

* The Story of Film, Mark Cousins

~Homosexuality subtext: http://www.criticalfumble.net/forum/archive/index.php/t-13477.html

Originally published/written for Man, I Love Films on 16th May 2013