Monster Hangover – COLOSSAL

Science fiction has always excelled in the use of metaphor.  Classically it was used by storytellers wanting to tackle taboo subject matter that could never be talked about directly, like racism, religion, or authoritarianism.  Sure, this guy is an alien, but he’s really an immigrant.  People are being replaced by evil plants, but the plants are really communism.  That sort of thing.  These days, though, with relaxed censorship and an open social discourse, we can tackle pretty much any topic or taboo head on.  Does that make metaphor less relevant?    If we already have DANCES WITH WOLVES, do we really need AVATAR to turn everyone blue and throw in dragons and machine-guns and shit?  The answer, of course, is yes.  All movies are better with dragons.  Plus, metaphors are fun.  They can add gravitas to a silly concept or lighten up a heavy subject.  Sometimes, though, your metaphor about the unintentional consequences of irresponsible behavior can get away from you and end up destroying a bunch of buildings in downtown Seoul, Korea.  Because that’s just what happens in Nacho Vigalondo’s sweetly absurd relationship/kaiju movie, COLOSSAL.

Capsule:

Gloria (Anne Hathaway) is at a low point.  She lost her sweet writing gig for being a touch too sarcastic.  Her successful, boring boyfriend, Tim (Dan Stevens) kicked her out of his Manhattan apartment for being a boozy lay about.  Now she is forced to move back to her parent’s vacant house in her small New England hometown.  Things look up when she runs into her childhood friend Oscar (Jason Sudeikis), who offers her a job working at his bar.  Gloria is slowly-very slowly-putting her life back together when she realizes she has a strange connection with the mysterious, giant monster who has been attacking Seoul, Korea lately.  It always appears at the same time, just as she is wandering drunkenly through a playground on her way back from the bar.  Turns out that the colossal kaiju is somehow linked to Gloria, and every action she takes in the playground is disastrously mirrored halfway around the world.  Gloria is horrified, but when the increasingly controlling Oscar learns that he has his own avatar in Seoul, he sees the chance to be the big man he’s always dreamed of and keep Gloria by his side for good.

This wonderful little film brings together two of my favorite things, kaiju and drinking.  And a strong female lead.  Probably should have used that one instead of drinking.  To be honest, though, there is much more drinking going on than kaiju action, and Anne Hathaway’s Gloria is pretty awful for the first half of the movie.  Not awful in a mean way, awful in the enjoyable, train wreck sort of way.  The heart of the movie is watching her take slow, awkward, incredibly destructive steps toward being strong. 

Hathaway is as close to perfect casting as you could get.  She has a knack for playing likable, multi-dimensional women who can’t quite get their shit together.  She embodies Gloria’s emotionally adrift boozer to a tee, from her just enough to be cute without requiring any effort hairstyle, to her pricelessly immature facial expressions.  We can’t feel that sorry for her ending up back in her childhood town, forced to crash in her parent’s empty house. One, because it is all her own doing, and two because, as downward spirals go, this is a slow and gentle ride.  She still has a place to live, if uncomfortably, and enough money and sympathy to survive.  Her drinking isn’t so much a crutch against the pain as it is a distraction from her directionless life.  What else was she to fill up her time with?  

This is because Gloria’s problem isn’t alcohol, it’s men.  Intentionally or not, Gloria wears a sign on her back that says in blinking neon “SAVE ME”, and there is always a seemingly proper gentleman ready to swoop her off her feet and sort out her life for her.  In a way, drinking is a defense mechanism, putting a barrier between her and the overly controlling jerks she attracts.  

Compared to Gloria’s hot mess, the men start off looking great.  Take Dan Stevens, or as he’s better known, that guy from Downton Abbey.  Tim seems to be the reasonable one in the beginning.  Who can blame him for kicking Gloria out of his apartment?  She can’t even keep her lame excuses straight after being caught sneaking in after a night of drinking with her vapid party friends.  He puts his foot down for her own good, and remains stern when she calls up, drunk and rambling about a monster attack on the other side of the world.  Once he gets wind that she may actually be pulling her life together without him, he suddenly lays on that apologetic British charm.    

Oscar is the worst.  Literally, demonstrably, the worst.  He starts off looking great.  He’s the grounded one, a responsible adult running a modest business.  Just the guy to guide Gloria to the right path.  If this were a romantic comedy, he would be the Patrick Dempsey type, the sort of boring square that stands up in the end and, in a moving little monologue, accepts the girl just as she is, flaws and all.  This ain’t that kind of movie.  Underneath all the friendly support and awe shucks charm is a manipulative, self-loathing prick who needs to control everyone in his pathetic little orbit.  Oscar is just the man Gloria needs to show her she doesn’t need a man.

Not only is Oscar a smooth operator, he has an ace up his denim sleeve.  He owns a bar, and alcohol is Gloria’s kryptonite… if kryptonite made Superman really silly and forget stuff instead of killing him.  Oscar exploits Gloria’s weakness like a pro.  He doesn’t push, he just provides.  A beer here, a futon there, little things to make her feel indebted.  He fills her empty house with second hand furniture that he claims she asked him for, knowing that she was too plastered to remember if it’s true.  He has weaponized generosity.

He’s so subtle about it, Gloria may have gotten completely sucked into his little trap if her vice hadn’t manifested in the most unsubtle way imaginable, a giant, city destroying monster.  She is horrified at the idea that she might be the cause of all the devastation, and even more so after a drunken experiment confirms it.  Oscar, however, just sees it as another way to manipulate her into staying close.  Once he discovers his own kajiu, he completely drops his nice guy facade, especially when the world clearly labels the giant robot as the villain of this monster drama.  

Oscar blackmails Gloria into hanging around, under the threat of daily robot rampages.  He feels no empathy for the hundreds of innocent people he could be killing with his childish tantrums.  Interestingly, Oscar’s obsession with Gloria doesn’t seem to be physically motivated.  His goal is more about keeping her as trapped and unhappy as he is, company for his misery.  He gets jealous when she has a drunken hook up with his handsome but totally useless friend, Joel (Austin Stowell), and when Tim shows up to woo her back.  Even then, though, he acts less like a romantic rival and more like a possessive bully on the playground.  Which is how the whole mess got started.  

The best fight in the movie isn’t between the massive avatars, it’s between two average humans.  After a battle of wills in Gloria's house, Oscar is determined to punish her for defying him. When he makes a break for the magic kaiju park, Gloria tries to stop him by turning all his gifted furniture against him.  She smashes him with a chair, drops a bookcase on him, and tries to squash him behind the giant TV.  He has to leap out of a second story window to get away from her.  Once they reach the park, the struggle takes an unpleasant turn.  Oscar sucker punches her and forces her to watch as stomps around, causing untold destruction on the other side of the world.  Things would have gone differently if she'd shown up packing an ottoman.

In the end, it all comes down to Gloria doing what she has spent her whole life avoiding, taking responsibility and fixing her own problems.  I love the moment when she calls Tim as she is walking into Seoul’s surprisingly populated kaiju boxing ring.  At first it seems like she is reaching out to profess her love in case her plan ends badly, but really it’s just to call him out for being a controlling knob and to dump him for good.  One down, one to go.

Scientifically speaking, the final face off with Oscar is preposterous, but so is the very nature of the movie.  Anyone expecting anything remotely realistic at this point is watching the wrong movie.  As metaphors go, though, it is immensely satisfying.  She shows her lifelong bully to be the sad little man he always was, and she does not let him down easy.  His choice of last words, which Gloria shouldn't have been able to hear, but seems to understand anyway, seals his fate.  The movie may play fast and loose with physics, but unfortunately for Oscar, gravity still applies.

Well, maybe there is one bit of realism in the end.  As Gloria victoriously strolls through the shell shocked city, she comes across a sympathetic ear to tell her crazy tale.  Before she begins, the woman--a bartender--asks if she would like a drink.  Gloria pauses, gives her a look of steely determination, and sighs.  Of course she wants a drink.  Of course she's going to continue to screw things up.  And yes, possibly knock over a few more buildings by accident.  She'll get her shit straightened out eventually, with no assistance from men or giant robots required.
  

C Chaka

Monster Magic - THE THING

Well, June is over, and with it comes the last selection in my series inspired by Junesploitation.  And yes, I have once again neglected to mention that I was doing a theme month until it’s all over.  I did the same thing February when I highlighted African American lead actors, and again in March where I highlighted female directors.  There are probably others.  I should write myself a note in the future.  

For those who don’t know, Junesploitation was a thing created by the folks at the misleadingly titled F This Movie website.  It was designed to celebrate the many forms and definitions of exploitation cinema.  Those participating in Junesploitation chose which movies they watch, but a calendar is provided as a viewing guideline.  Each day of the month is dedicated to a particular subject, like Aliens, ‘80s Action, or Sybil Danning movies.  All you need to do is watch at least one that in some way qualifies.  

I found out about this challenge, I believe, on June 1^st.  Being a sucker for exploitation, I jumped straight in.  Since I was doing it anyway, I also decided to write about one of these selections a week.  I tried to pick the Sunday category, since I usually watch what I’m going to write about on Sunday anyway (seriously, I’m that slow).  I started with Animals (ALLIGATOR), went to Killer Kids (DEVIL TIMES FIVE), then Teenagers (DEADKIDS).  June ran out before the next Sunday (and because I missed the first Sunday due to my aforementioned lack of planning), so I’m going with the June 30^th category: Monsters.  Mostly I stayed with lesser known movies, but I wanted to finish big.  Presenting what I consider to be the most imaginative monster design ever: John Carpenter’s THE THING.

The Capsule: 

                                                                                                                                 

An alien craft loses control while exploring Earth and crashes into the icy wastes of Antarctica.  The poor pilot survives, but spends the next 100,000 years frozen solid until a helpful group of Norwegians dig it up and thaw it out.  Minor cultural misunderstandings arise from the alien’s greeting customs.  The situation becomes tense, and the alien decides it’s best to leave the Norwegian’s camp.  Even though the alien adopted the form of a cute Earth dog to make the humans more comfortable, the Norwegians can’t let things go and follow after it in a helicopter, shooting and chucking grenades.  Thankfully, it finds refuge at an American science station.  The Americans welcome the alien much more warmly, even allowing it to make friends with the other dogs in the camp.  However, just as the alien is opening up to its new canine comrades, xenophobia rears its ugly head and the Americans rush in and bring an end to all of the alien’s inter-species dialogue.  With a flamethrower.  From that point on, the American, led by the hotheaded MacReady (Kurt Russell), abandon all attempts at diplomacy and focus on mercilessly hunting down the alien, hereafter referred to, rather insensitively, as the Thing.  While the Thing is eventually able to develop a rappport with several of the more open-minded humans, MacReady, Childs (Keith David), and others become increasingly paranoid about becoming infected with the Thing’s radical new viewpoints on communal living.  Blair (Wilford Brimley) even goes so far as to sabotage the camp’s radio and transportation to ensure the Thing cannot spread his ideas (though it and Blair later reconcile).  Will the Thing finally break through the American’s distrust—and physical bodies—or  will MacReady’s self-destructive intolerance to alternate lifestyles spell the end for alien, human, and alien/human(/dog/etc.) alike?
 

I’ve probably seen THE THING dozens of times.  I was completely blown away the first time I saw it, and I cannot understand why people didn’t go crazy over this when it was released.  Of course, I can’t understand why people do anything, so that’s no surprise.  Even so, how could someone watch Charles Hallahan’s detached, upside down head spout crab legs and scuttle away and not be in awe at the creativity.  Even if they were revolted by it, no one had seen that before.

The creature design for the Thing is absolutely boundless.  Before the Thing, monsters were most often restricted to a man in a suit, like the Gillman, a giant or mythological creature, like any of Harryhousen’s creations, or an exaggerated but recognizable animatronic, like Bruce the shark.  Even when the monster didn’t match anything in nature, they still conformed to our basic ideas of what life looks like.  Arms are in reasonable places, it has a face, watch out for the teeth.  

The Thing was the first creature to abandon all those rules.  On one hand, it could take the appearance of any living creature it encountered.  It can perfectly mimic any animal or human.  This leads to the fantastic and completely justified air of paranoia throughout the film.   Shapeshifters are nothing new, from werewolves to classic Cold War sci-fi allegory pod people.  Those monsters were limited to shifting from one form directly into another in a linear progression.  As amazing as those transformations could be, we could see where they were going.  Even the three life stages of ALIEN, as mind-blowing as they are, followed a logical extension.

The Thing is not linear.  We never see its original form because it doesn’t have one.  It is a vast genetic amalgam of every other creature it has absorbed.  No need to choose when you can be everything at the same time.  It changes its body to whatever the situation demands.  Need to grab something, just throw out a few tentacles from your back.  Want to kill a guy quickly, turn your entire ribcage into a set of jaws.  Looking to freak out some dogs, split open your face like a banana.  It’s the ultimate extension of form as function.  

There is a great scene that didn't entirely register with me until this watch.  Blair is starting an autopsy on the twisted blob body of the recently fried Dog-Thing. He is trying to wrap his head around what kind of life form it is.  His first cut reveals the half-formed skull of something hiding under the skin.  If the body had remained functional for a few more seconds, it would have burst out and attacked anything close enough.  It is literally a thought made flesh.  Now that is alien.

Speaking of which, I’ve always been curious exactly what the Thing was composed of.  We get to see the faces of the absorbed station crew pop out like a rash across its body, and dog skulls are popular, but it was already carrying around some critters before it ever got to Earth.  The claws that tear out of its dog form aren’t from anything terrestrial.  The monstrous heads and tentacles are decidedly alien as well.  If there was an intergalactic version of 23andMe, the Thing's results would be fascinating.

Not only was the concept of the Thing perfectly realized, the effects that brought it to life were equally revolutionary.  CGI has gotten to the point now where this sort of radical shape shifting can be done smoothly and realistically (so to speak).  As good as they are now and will be in the future, the Thing was REAL.  The creature was made up of latex and cables and bladders, but it was a physical performance just like all the other actors on set (better than some, David Clennon as the stoner Bruce Dern wannabe Palmer was a bit one note).  It’s hard not to see any of its many forms as a real creature, even when you are specifically looking at it as an effect.  Even Thing-blood all by itself was a totally believable creature.  So, sorry David Clennon, you got upstaged by a dish of red syrup.  

I’m unfairly knocking Clennon only because it’s so hard to find fault with this cast.  Russel and David are known, legendary badasses. This viewing cemented my opinion that Brimley’s Blair is the unsung hero of the movie.  He is the first one to grasp the magnitude of what would happen to the world if this creature was allowed to escape.  His actions doomed everyone in the camp, including himself, but potentially saved the entire human race.  And his reward was to be locked up alone in the cold, guaranteeing his fate to join the Thing.

Along the same lines, it’s interesting how the crew divide into two groups, the ones who think there is a chance for them to make it out alive (like Nauls, Windows, pre-Thing Norris) and those who know that isn’t the point (MacReady, Childs, the doctors).  Donald Moffat’s Gary seems to be riding the middle, hoping for a miracle, but not willing to save himself over killing the Thing.

There are a few new details I noticed this time.

Richard Dysart looks pretty much the same as when he was on L.A. Law, except that he’s wearing a nose ring.  That’s a bold fashion statement for an old white dude in 1982.

The scene where MacReady checks on Blair through the door of the storage shed is heartbreaking.  The resolve that enabled him to destroy their only hope of escape is gone, and now he can't even bring himself to take the easy way out.  The hollow desperation on Brimley’s face when he's asking MacReady to take him back inside, and his line, “There’s nothing wrong with me, and if there was, I’m all better now” makes me think he hadn’t been infected yet, but he can see it coming.  We’ll never know for sure.

Finally, was every low to mid budget production from the mid ‘70s to mid ‘80s sponsored by J&B Scotch?  That green bottle was everywhere they pointed a camera in those days.  Did the company just call up any working producer?  “Say, I hear you’re going to be filming a movie.  Have you considered J&B for your bottom shelf, working class whiskey prop of choice?  I see.  Well, would a couple of cases of J&B change your mind?”  

The last shot of the film?  MacReady sharing a swig of J&B with Childs. 

Wait a minute, maybe that’s the clue to whether or not they are still human.  Even a 100,000-year-old shapeshifting alien would have more taste than to drink J&B.

C Chaka