Weekend Movies

This weekend was a good weekend for movies.

Not that they were all good movies. But they all had something worth thinking about.

First up was Matt Cimber's psychological horror/slasher movie The Witch Who Came from the Sea. I’d bought this during the Arrow video sale, having never even heard of it before. Oof. A tough one to come into cold, but if I’d known what it was about, I’d probably have never seen it at all. (Trigger warning: child abuse.) Molly (played by the Diary of Anne Frank’s Millie Perkins, deliberately against type) is a waitress at a seaside bar and an aunt to two young boys – but she fantasizes about killing men, gruesomely. And soon we see that her fantasies have become reality… and she’s been blacking out. This all ties in to flashbacks of Molly being molested by her father, which her memory has blocked out; in the present, she adores him. (Her sister, the mom of her nephews, tries to remind her that he was a monster, but she’s having none of it.) It’s really off-putting, full of casual sexism and really uncomfortable flashbacks: midway through, Kathy had had enough, and we watched something else for a while. I finished watching it that night, and right about the midway point where we stopped, it starts to pivot… it gets more directed, and moves inexorably to a haunting, sad climax. There are a few things I liked about this movie – aside from the final scene, there’s a tattoo artist named Jack Dracula, who gives a fantastic, over-the-top performance as he works on Molly – but for the most part, I can’t recommend this one. If you watch it, watch it alone.

Saturday night was a palate-cleanser: the Netflix original Eurovision Song Contest: The Story of Fire Saga. It’s a broad comedy starring Will Ferrell and Rachel McAdams as Lars and Sigrit as two aspiring Icelandic musicians, and is similar to other will Ferrell competition comedies. It’s a little sweeter, though – there are a lot of actual Eurovision contestants involved, and it treats them kindly. It’s a light and funny advertisement for the contest, where even the bad guys (well, aside from one murderer) are mostly just warm-hearted, misunderstood people. Two moments I really liked: at one point, Lars is being strangled by someone who doesn’t want him to win. As Lars struggles, he’s buoyed by the murder attempt: “You really think I have a chance?” he chokes out, excitedly. And then there’s a small moment, where Sigrit is entering the green room to await the scoring. She’s despondent from her performance, and the fight she just had with Ferrell. One of the other contestants lifts a phone to film her, and the Swedish contestant, actual Eurovision star John Lundvik, gently moves the phone down, giving her privacy. It’s just one shot, but it really moved me. It’s a small bit of kindness that exemplifies the gentle heart of the film.

And then last night, we saw the best of the bunch: How Sweet It Is, a 1968 romantic comedy starring Debbie Reynolds and James Garner. This movie ain’t perfect – its depiction of hippies and the counterculture is on the square side of far-out, and you can definitely expect a few French and Italian stereotypes along the way. But man, Debbie Reynolds is a comic powerhouse. She’s so damn funny, whether she’s eavesdropping on her husband (Garner) have a heart-to-heart with their son, nursing a wicked hangover, or trying not to be noticed in a bikini she put on in a fit of pique. Garner’s great too, but this is really Reynolds’s show.

Basically, the plot is, photographer Garner and son are following a student tour of Europe for a magazine assignment, while Reynolds has arranged a villa on the Riviera for them when the tour’s over. But the villa rental was a scam, and Reynolds instead shows up at the home of a handsome French attorney, known for his wolfish ways….who invites her to stay nonetheless. Passes get made, and rebuffed, but secretly appreciated. Comedy ensues. It’s not the most sophisticated comedy – it ends up in a crowded fight scene in an Italian brothel – but it’s a ton of fun. Plus, it’s produced by Garry Marshall, so there are cameos from Penny Marshall and an elementary-school-age Erin Moran.

Rob