REVIEW: Scrooged

What exactly is it about Dickens' A Christmas Carol that makes it so endlessly adaptable? This one simple story takes up so much real estate in the realm of holiday specials to the point that it boggles the mind. Is it because the story is so ingrained in the public consciousness that we simply can't get enough of it? Is A Christmas Carol just the yuletide monomyth? Personally, I feel as though it's just an easy out for content creators; need a Christmas episode that writes itself? Christmas Carol parody! Need something to rake in those holiday weekend box office dollars? How's about a star-studded Christmas Carol remake? Need a story to tell your kids on Christmas Eve? Dickens, baby. It's always Dickens. When it comes to entertainment, A Christmas Carol is the bread and butter of the holiday season. It's an adaptation that not only writes itself, but which can be revisited year after year after year. It's one hell of a racket. Thankfully, this laziness can be subverted with a hefty dose of ingenuity, such as in the 1988 Richard Donner film, Scrooged.

Bill Murray stars as Frank Cross, a bloodthirsty TV executive charged with airing a live production of A Christmas Carol on Christmas Eve; he's inconsiderate, arrogant, and completely blind to the plights and tribulations of his employees. An effective Scrooge stand-in if ever there was one. As one might expect, he is visited by three ghosts who hope to convince him to change his ways before it is too late to save his immortal soul. It's A Christmas Carol. The key factor here is how creative the filmmakers got in presenting this time-honored tale in a new and unique way. It hits all the beats of the story without feeling derivative; instead of Tiny Tim, we have Calvin, the son of Murray's overworked assistant. Rather than sporting a crutch, he's been mute for the past five years after witnessing his father's murder. This is a film that is definitely not all tinsel and gumdrops. It goes to some truly dark places and, while I found this tone more or less refreshing, I admit that it may be too dour and mean-spirited for some.

The film is very much a character study, rather than an ensemble piece. We have actors such as Karen Allen, David Johansen, Bobcat Goldthwait, and John Forsythe, but none of them really get much of an opportunity to leave a huge impression, considering the focus is always on Bill Murray. He does a good job, considering he takes up so much of the spotlight, but it would have been nice to see a little more of the people he has such a negative effect on over the course of the film. It almost spreads itself too thin with the cast, to the point where we need to tie up too many loose ends by the end of the third act. Characters who are made to feel very important (such as Grace, Frank's assistant played by Alfre Woodard) are given the same amount of closure and attention in the end as characters like Brice Cummings (John Glover), an LA slimeball gunning for Frank's job. This is, by nature, a very intimate story, looking at exactly what led a generally kind, good-natured man to become a real genuine dirtbag. We can feel that intimacy and emotion in regards to Murray's life, but those feelings are somewhat absent for the members of the supporting cast.

The humor, for the most part, works well. As I said, it may be a little too mean-spirited for some, but I personally had a blast with it. Few can play sardonic and exasperated as effectively as Bill Murray, and the film is just oozing with his token personality. It's when the movie veers into more traditional fodder for jokes (like the uncharacteristically slapstick stylings of Carol Kane's Ghost of Christmas Present) that the film falls flat. Murray commands the humor in this film, and its when the comedy attempts to steer itself out of his sarcastic, irreverent wheelhouse that it suffers and stalls. There's tons of subtle little touches that make this a joy for anyone remotely familiar with the television industry (such as the studio head's insistence that he's found "a study which shows that cats and dogs are beginning to watch television"). It's subtle moments like these that raise the film up and really make it something special. It's a dry, irreverent idea for a film to begin with, so the humor works best when it's matching that tone. 

That said, the one glaring issue with this film is without a doubt the rampant tonal inconsistency. There's an undercurrent of cynicism and subversion that comes with adapting a classic Christmas story in such a modern, hard-edged kind of light. At the same time, it is also attempting to pass as a straightforward Christmas Carol adaptation. There are moments when the schmaltz required by the story actually works (such as when Frank unwraps a handmade picture frame from his brother), but these moments are few and far between. This disparity really only becomes obvious during the final act, when everything falls apart. Up to this point, the film had been subversive and sardonic in a fun, coherent kind of way. Everything meshed together well, since the more emotional aspects of the story so far had been just as dark as the comedic aspects. It is in the third act, however, that everything goes utterly off the rails. Bill Murray, normally cool as a Christmastime cucumber, plays his change of heart with all the vigor of someone suffering a psychotic break. He interrupts his own live broadcast to give a rambling, tonally all-over-the-place speech about the true meaning of Christmas that doesn't mesh with the rest of the film in the slightest.

We're made to believe that this is a beautiful, inspiring moment, yet I couldn't stop myself from thinking that there's no way this has a happy ending, especially for Bobcat Goldthwait's character (who, after getting fired in the beginning of the film, had gone completely postal and was holding the channel's control room at gunpoint). Going by the film's sense of logic, I can only assume that Frank got fired, Bobcat went to prison, and no one's situation improved in the slightest. Despite all the ghostly hijinks, this feels like a very grounded film. It had never been afraid to present the audience with the grim reality of a situation; Frank is forced to find out that his actions lead to a homeless man freezing to death and his assistant's child ending up in an asylum. Not to mention Bobcat Goldthwait showing up at the office with a loaded shotgun. But then immediately after presenting us with these bleak, pessimistic possibilities, the film expects us to believe that everything works out like a Christmas miracle. It leads to a real sense of tonal whiplash, considering that the movie doesn't adhere to its own established sense of logic. This is the one time I actually would have much preferred the movie stick closer to the source material, with a generally reserved, intimate finale that tugs the heartstrings and more aligns with what we'd gotten used to over the past hour and a half.

It's a real shame that Scrooged fumbles with its ending as roughly as it does; had it pulled it off, it would have easily been my favorite Christmas Carol adaptation, hands down. As it is, the rest of the movie is really quite good regardless. It's definitely not for everyone, but I found its brand of mean-spirited irreverence to contrast nicely with the usually saccharine Christmas season. Then again, I'm the type to watch Gremlins or Krampus this time of year, rather than It's a Wonderful Life, so take my words with as many grains of salt as you deem necessary. It's a subversive take on a holiday standard that makes for a solid good time that I can't help but recommend, despite its flaws. It's an example of real creativity on display in what could have been a painfully milquetoast experience; for that alone, I feel as though it's worthy of praise.

REVIEW: World's Greatest Dad

I'd heard about Bobcat Goldthwait's World's Greatest Dad for some time now; I'm a sucker for both pitch black comedy and Robin Williams, so imagine my delight when this happens to be one of the greatest black comedies I've ever seen, featuring one of the greatest Robin Williams performances I've ever seen.

Lance Clayton (Robin Williams) is a high school poetry teacher and failed author, living with his son, Kyle (former Spy Kid, Daryl Sabara). Kyle is generally disliked in school and has few friends, mostly because he's an ill-tempered, lecherous underachiever. Any time not spent watching porn on his computer is most likely spent either heaping scorn upon his beleaguered father or hanging out with his only friend, Andrew (Evan Martin, whom I would really like to see in more after this). After returning home one night from a date with a fellow teacher (Alexie Gilmore), Lance discovers his son's lifeless body; while he was away, Kyle died in a humiliating accident. In an attempt to grant him some modicum of dignity, Lance arranges the scene to look like Kyle hung himself, even going so far as to forge a poignant suicide note. The school is rocked by the news of Kyle's passing; after his suicide note is released to the public, a massive outcry of support rises from the students and faculty, resulting in an almost cultlike following of Kyle's memory. As time goes on, the lie gains more and more influence over Lance's life and he is forced to decide between the seemingly idyllic (but fake) situation he's made for himself and the distinctly less glamorous truth.

To address the elephant in the room early on, yes, this is a movie starring Robin Williams which deals heavily on the subject of suicide. World's Greatest Dad was released in 2009, five years before Mr. Williams himself passed away; as such, I would imagine it's impossible to view this movie with the same mindset that one would have viewed it with when it first premiered. There were more than a few moments in the film that leave an unintended impression, when viewed in present context. As time goes on, society changes and context evolves with it. Art, however, is a product of the time it was made; while art can appear timeless, there will always be some factor (whether it be based in technology, technique, or cast) that will tie it down to a specific era. For example, there are aspects of classic films like King Kong and The General that feel out of place when viewed today. Just as a slapstick comedy that portrays a Confederate soldier as a protagonist may feel a tad off in today's world, so might a movie about suicide starring Robin Williams. As I mentioned, there are a small handful of moments in this film that have taken on a new meaning since his death. However, none of these moments feel intrusive or detrimental to the film as a whole. We simply know a little more now than we did then, which grants us insight into the feelings behind what we're seeing on screen. So for those of you worried that this movie is irreparably damaged, fear not; most likely, it will just make you shed a few tears (which honestly is the reaction the scenes in question seemed to be going for in the first place).

As you may have gathered by now, Robin Williams is absolutely perfect in this. The character of Lance Clayton is the definitive okay guy who does terrible things with the best of intentions. He keeps digging himself deeper and deeper, and the film obviously raises the question of whether he's keeping up the charade for his own benefit or everyone else's. As funny and sardonic as it is, this movie also manages to be a really excellent criticism of the way suicide is treated by society. With the exception of Andrew and Lance's shut-in neighbor, Bonnie (Mitzi McCall), literally every character involved in the whole facade wants to exploit Kyle's memory in some way, shape, or form. Students who bullied him while he was alive suddenly claim that he was their best friend, whom they miss dearly. The school grief counselor is overjoyed that so many students are coming to talk to him; not only is he helping young people sort through their personal issues, but he's also getting his name out there and publishing a book in the process. A major theme of the story is the point of the good that can arise from a tragedy; is it truly "the greater good" if it serves a specific person rather than society as a whole? As the influence of Kyle's memory spreads throughout the school, we see some students who are inspired to better themselves after reading the suicide note and journal that Lance attributed to his late son. Is it worth it for the vultures to reap fame and fortune from a tragic event, so long as a small minority take something genuinely beneficial away from it all? These are the questions that the movie constantly asks, all while being sharply-written and darkly hilarious throughout.

In the supporting cast, we've got Daryl Sabara as Kyle Clayton; he and Williams have amazing chemistry in the worst way. In every scene that they have together he's just such a cringe-inducingly terrible kid, which really provides a stark contrast to the way everyone views him posthumously. Evan Martin is really excellent as Kyle's gawky friend, Andrew. Andrew is the first one to suspect that all might not be what it seems and ends up as something of a foil to Lance as the film goes on. I particularly enjoyed his performance here, considering how Andrew feels like he could easily have ended up as a one-note joke character. Instead, he's given a really strong amount of pathos for how little screentime he has; I feel like everyone knew someone like Andrew in high school. Really, there are no bad performances here. It's a great cast playing great characters reading from a great script and working under great direction. As one would expect, all of these elements make for an all-around great film.

World's Greatest Dad is a movie that manages to toe the line between being a pitch-black comedy and oddly touching while providing some of the most biting and brutally accurate social commentary I've ever seen. It pulls absolutely no punches at all and was clearly constructed with the utmost care and effort for it to turn out as good as it is. If you're interested in seeing one of the most underrated performances of Robin Williams' career, I highly recommend you give this one a watch.