Day Two Hundred and Ninety-two - Carrie, "They're all going to laugh at you~"

You know, it's hard to find this classic Stephen King story scary. Sad, a bit painful, and a little clever in its depictions of fundamentalism, bullying, and teenaged angst, but never scary. Maybe it's just that times have changed and I've grown jaded over the years. Most of my scares come from personal demons of late.

The film itself has this weird "after school special vibe." It vilifies teenage sex  even while it revels in sexual imagery for the first half of the film. It's villains are openly sadistic and avid alcohol drinkers, and sloppily so. Watching John Travolta dribble Pabst Blue Ribbon while driving is more comical than cautionary. It's hard to imagine how his character has the brain power to operate a vehicle if he cannot master the rudimentary motions of drinking from a can.

Still, it's a brave film... simulating oral sex during the necking scene and, perhaps most importantly, that opening locker room sequence that is replete with full frontal nudity, however brief. It's an odd kind of saturnalia, that scene, which follows up with Sissy Spacek almost masturbating to the camera in the prologue to the infamous and traumatizing "plug it up" bit. I can't quite tell if De Palma was going for titillation or artistry... either way, it's suitably disturbing, if only from a social aspect.

The horror elements, though, are actually really, really tame. Carrie's powers are simple parlor tricks, even when she goes on her telekinetic rampage. And whether it's corn syrup or electrocution or death by car accident, there's nothing groundbreaking about the effects. In fact, when Travolta and Nancy Allen buy it in the rollover trying to mow Carrie down, the spinning camera trick is completely comical.

I think the only redeeming moment in that regard was when Piper Laurie (whom Couchbound readers will recognize from Twin Peaks where she plays Catherine) recreates the martyrdom of Saint Sebastian in her kitchen thanks to Carrie and quite a few knives and other sharp objects.

In regards to that death, she did kind of deserve it... even if she seemed orgasmic and rapturous as she died. Maybe she thought she was righteous enough, trying to kill her daughter, that she'd get into heaven.

Honestly, the only thing that creeped me out in the entire movie was that little Saint Sebastian figure with the glowing eyes in Carrie's prayer closet. I don't know if it was electric or if those eyes were the Devil's Hellfire themselves, I just know that I wouldn't want that thing anywhere near me.

Quick shout out to P.J.Soles who, for the life of me, looked like Carrie Fischer in this film. Bugged the heck out of me.

On the whole, Carrie feels more like a cautionary tale on bullying and fundamentalism than anything, a "worst of both worlds" message that evil comes in many guises. You can't help but feel sympathy for Carrie as she's damned if she does, damned if she doesn't with a mother and classmates like hers.

It's funny, I'll be watching the 2013 remake this weekend for A Review Too Far/The Void Zone. I wonder what the update is going to do to raise the stakes?

Until tomorrow, Potatoes~

Day One Hundred and Thirty-nine - Bully, "What is wrong with people? Seriously? WHAT?"

Watching this film makes me angry... a deep, visceral anger where I have to fight the urge to lash out, both at the real world and my own demons that are pulled up, kicking and screaming, from the haze of memory.

Old scars grow warm and smart watching this documentary.

Giving voice to several teens and adolescents who suffer day by day as outcasts, bullied incessantly and on the ragged edge of hope, the viewer is shown both their good times (which are few) and just a peek at the troubles unleashed upon them. Cameras follow kids still in school, those in juvenile detention for lashing our at their tormentors, and to the town hall meetings and funerals that result when two despondent children took their own lives.

It hurts to watch.

It hurts because I see parents who have no idea what their kids are going through. It hurts because I see administrators who stand there and do nothing, even blaming the victims as being "just like" their tormentors. It hurts because I've been there... and, in watching this, in some ways I still am there.

It also hurts because the MPAA initially rated this feature R for strong language.

You know what? Fuck you, MPAA.

When I was in kindergarten, Catholic school kindergarten, I was the one teaching curse words to the other children. This is a documentary that captures kids in their natural setting, often without adult supervision. They curse. We cursed... whenever we could get away with it and, in my case, even when I couldn't.

It was one of the ways I survived. Maybe I was lesser for it, as I was eventually kicked out of said Catholic school, but it was real. It was true. And giving this doc an R-rating for language, effectively cutting it off from its intended audience... forcing the filmmakers to release it unrated, limiting the theaters that would show it... ultimately forcing a recut that pulls it down to your "acceptable" limits of language.

Man... I really hate the MPAA right now. More so than usual.

I feel for these kids, I really do.

And, every step of the way, I want to smack around the administrators who just let it happen. The victim-blamers, the self-important, the politicians... they all deserve a good tongue thrashing. I even want to yell at several of the parents who put the onus on their children to be better in the face of kids who see them as weak or outsiders and will never leave them alone unless something is done on their end.

Ugh!

Bully should be seen by every child. And parent. And teacher/administrator.

Boys will be boys, my ass.

These kids didn't deserve to be pushed as far as they were, leaving several of them to feel they had no way out save for taking their own lives. Their peers and betters need to be aware both of their plight, the consequences of bullying, and the fact that there are plenty of other kids out there facing the same (if not worse) kinds of treatment.

Until tomorrow, Potatoes~