She’s Back: Crazy Newfies, Angry Rubber and Accepting Reality . . .
Good day all,
Well folks what can you do? Regular viewers have already heard that the lady is back, and irregular viewers will just act weird. I was half-way through an episode of South Park when I froze: there was no sound or shifting in the earth above, just a sense of impending doom (the closest I’ve come to actually experiencing the Force) and I knew it. Of course, I went black from the purple knock-out gas and woke up strapped to a chair, faced with a confidently smiling Annie Bates cramming a DVD in my face. I really didn’t listen to what she said, or accept the reality of her being back and saying it, but the word “documentary” was in there. She saw my face fall at this word, saying “this one’s really good, and I have a great horror/comedy to follow it up with.” You know, you start to trust your captor and she was happy that I wrote so much while she was out skinning the most adorable, baby bunnies you can imagine alive (just a guess at where she was), so I took this as a peace-offering and dug in. Now I have to clarify, I didn’t hate either of these movies, in fact I kind of liked them. The first is incredibly aggravating in the fact that good people had to live through the events, while the other is so bizarre that I had to chuckle along with it. The problem I have with both movies is the way in which they go about their business. One goes way too far in making a certainly flawed human being a saint and the other gets so caught up in denying reason that it misses an opportunity to tell an awesome story. Here we go. . . . .
Dear Zacharay: A Letter to a Son About His Father: Don’t Mess With a Crazy Newfie . . . . .
This is a film that looks at the sad fact that terrible things happen in the world, and they happen to people who don’t deserve it and that really sucks. It also does a great job of pointing out some of the flaws in Canada’s justice system and that real people get hurt when the machine breaks down. I have to preface everything I say about this film in case any of Dr. Bagby’s many friends or family run into this on the intertubes. I will be making jokes and criticisms that in no way diminish the outrage that I feel at what you, and especially Andrew’s parents, have had to endure. I make jokes because that’s how I deal with the tragedies of life (like my life) and it’s my way of not making sweet mouth-love to a shotgun. This is a film that tells an important story in a way that hurts it.
This is the story of a young man almost obsessed with the dream of becoming a doctor, traveled to Canada to pursue that dream and ran into a relationship that ended in his murder. The film goes to great lengths to paint Dr. Bagby as what he seemed to be, a young man with a great deal of potential and the type of friend that would help you get rid of a dead hooker three seconds into a 3 A.M. phone call. Everyone loved Andrew, and held an astounding and completely understandable amount of rage for the woman who killed him. We get an endless stream of footage starring Andrew as the clown, the groomsman and the foul-mouthed buddy. We get current footage of friends commenting about those memories and the emotion is potent. The one theme than runs through every testimonial is Andrew’s dependability; a lot mention his good nature, many talk of their powerful trust of him and a few mention his quiet doubts and thoughtfulness (in both senses of the word), but the key is dependability. When the story shifts to Newfoundland we meet Shirley, the older, graduated (but not working) doctor that Andrew met and dated while at university. She is weird by all accounts from step one and brings about the most important line in the movie, in my opinion, when a friend says that Andrew told him he thought Shirley was the best he could do. It is one of the only moments that presents Andrew as a real person with real problems. I’ve been the guy dating a woman he doesn’t like, and sticking with it because of my own doubt (and it was worse than life now, even with her back). It was the most interested I was in Andrew, because I understood why he was with this woman who ruined everything. My major criticism is that the director, a friend who sees Andrew as perfect, does a disservice by showing him as perfect. A Chris Farley-like guy, always joking but a little insecure and without the blow, is more interesting than the perfect human being. My dad died in a car accident when I was a baby and until I was 16 I thought he died heroically saving a co-worker (because that’s what my uncles told me). I was so angry when I heard it was a simple accident, and that he drank a bit and could be a prick. I’d much rather chat with the real, flawed dad than the saint. Shirley ends up pregnant with his kid, it turns sideways once and then sideways again and leaves you infuriated. It is a film you should definitely see, but I will warn you that it will leave you angry. Explaining any more would ruin it.
Two more points; one a realization and the other a public service message. The realization is about crime. My gut reaction is to lock em’ up and throw away the key. This family, two amazing people especially, were ruined because of the flaws in Canada’s legal system. This woman was insane, had restraining orders against her and, on two occasions, had officers of the court (a judge and a lawyer) explain her defense, what she should say and how to write her f-ing appeal. Those people should be locked up. The failure here was that the defendant was a white woman with the word “doctor” in front of her name. If this woman had been Native, or black, or poor, she would not have got the “legal advice” that she got. It bothers me that there are two justice systems and we worry about punishing criminals when we should focus on treating mentally ill people. For the opposite opinion see the Conservative Party platform (but no more than five questions and only when the budget is balanced and we’ve paid for stealth fighters). The other point is a public service announcement about the wonderful people of Newfoundland. These are the most amazing people on Earth. I mean their one, traditional industry got over-fished and their lifestyle collapsed, so they move to Alberta and take care of the labour for the oil industry (to send money home). The danger of Newfies is that every emotion is amplified. They are the kindest people in the world, in fact Dr. Bagby’s parents fell in love with Newfoundland and continue to live there because of the friends they’ve made. They are hard workers; I used to ask for Newfie labourers because they worked their balls off and were funny as hell (if you can understand them). The problem is if you go drinking with them, because that’s amplified too. Then the Newfie crazy shows up, and that’s most amplified of all. This woman was the very craziest of Newfie crazy, like without the drinking, and was allowed to do some terrible shit because she was a doctor.
Rubber: Huh?
I get it. Big speech about “no reason” in movies, when the last movie reference is reasonable (which has no reason). You’re clever, I get it. I can tell you what happened; a bunch of French guys were sitting in a room, smoking copious amounts of cannabis and Quentin says (in mock, French accent) “imagine a movie with no reason. no motivation or walls. Yeah. . . . and a psychic tire that will assplode everything it comes across with its mind.” His French buddies all go “honh, honh, honh” and tell him he’s brilliant and they all smoke another bowl. The actors are all pretty good, and everybody buys into the schtick, but an awesome movie got lost in a visual art experiment. There is no reason the tire is killing, or explanation of his powers, and there’s a crowd watching that aggravates my balls to new limits. I know that I’m stupid, and that I just don’t get it, but this would be a much better movie if Robert the tire had a voiceover. You could make a spectacularly gory, ridiculously funny movie about a tire on an absolutely ludicrous mission and it would make my lifetime. I know there would be moments of reason, and that would ruin the whole point of the art project, but it would be a much better movie. Again, see this thing and laugh your ass off, but imagine with me (with a tear perhaps) the movie we could have seen based on Quentin’s stoned revelation.
Well folks that’s the that of it. I’m faced with the eternal dilemma; should I hate the glorious freedom because its fleeting time has passed or should I hold it close to my heart now that Vader’s come home, to keep me safe. I think I have to side with holding on to the memory. As for her torture these two were pretty good, but each could’ve been so much more.
Till the next time I dislocate a wrist to get the cuffs off,
The Hostage
K. Harker
stew37
The Errant Cinephile and her Vocal Hostage 