Henry is a much more serious picture, simply and eloquently filmed, with a relentlessness and blunt truth. Between this and Henry: Portrait of a Serial Killer, he’s helmed what I consider to be two classics. I always thought it was a shame John McNaughton didn’t have a bigger career. It’s a winking nod to the audience, as if to say, “We thought about how impossible these things were, and we’re hanging a lamp on it, just to show you that we’re having too much fun to care.” Wild Things has its own post-credit sequences, showing unrevealed scenes that show how some of its more ridiculous twists happened. People love post-credit sequences in movies today, with Marvel movies hinting at the next developments or villains to come. Wild Things only presents itself as exploitation, as a means of observing the genre. Showgirls is a sincere piece of exploitation. Wild Things has all of the self-awareness that Showgirls doesn’t have. Showgirls is a movie with a lot of ambition and a lot of technical skill, but with an unhinged lunacy–which is, at turns, part of its charm. And don’t get me wrong, I also love Showgirls, but for entirely different reasons. Wild Things is the successful execution of what Showgirls wanted to be. The writing is assured enough that wherever the plot does go, you know you’re in good hands. The pure joy in it is in seeing where it goes next. Twist after twist after twist, each more outlandish than the last, and each getting harder and harder to sustain your disbelief for. There are certainly jokes, and many of them do land, but what we’re laughing at his how off the rails the story gets. It’s a comedy–a very straight-faced one at that. Wild Things isn’t a sexy, idiotic thriller. For the brief time he’s in the movie, he hijacks the scenes he’s in and, instead of seeming like an invader from another movie that threatens to give the audience a tonal whiplash from which they’ll never recover, it merely serves to provide an insight into the actual tone of the film. While it seems an odd movie for it, there is an extended cameo from Bill Murray, and he’s absolutely hysterical. This movie came out when I was 12 and I was expecting to see the girls from Starship Troopers and Scream disrobe, but the only actual, tangible nudity was from the guy from Tremors. I think a lot of horny men coming to this movie to see “the goods” were going to go home disappointed. At its surface, this seems like a strange oversight, but I think it’s yet another bit of clever subversion from writer Stephen Peters and director John McNaughton. Yet, for all this sex, the only person who actually appears nude is Kevin Bacon. There are double-crosses galore, murder, fake murder, champagne-soaked sex scenes, sex scenes in pools. This twisty, turny, serpentine series of events only represents something like the first 20 minutes of the movie. This turns out to be a big con job, so that the girls will “crack” under pressure during the sham trial, giving Sam an opportunity to countersue Kelly’s rich parents and they can all split the big, fat payday. Florida high school guidance counselor Sam Lombardo (Matt Dillon) is accused of raping two of his students, Kelly and Suzie (Denise Richards and Neve Campbell). Everyone, at all times, is covered in a shimmering sheen of perspiration.Īllow me to attempt to take you through the plot of Wild Things, without daring to give too much away. You can practically hear the sweat dripping. The corny guitar-riff-laden musical score. There are some movies you can hear–close your eyes and the sound effects will take you to the same place. Those who’ve seen, and love, Wild Things know that the uninitiated are in for a treat. It’s an intellectual study draped in a sordid guise. It’s a shame that Wild Things so successfully disguised and marketed itself as a sleazy, exploitative thriller, because hardly anyone knows the truth, that Wild Things is a subversive, witty satire.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
Details
AuthorWrite something about yourself. No need to be fancy, just an overview. ArchivesCategories |