Needful Things (1993)

needful_things

Needful Things: C-

Socrates: Glaucon, have you come across a movie based on a Stephen King novel that involves haunted antiques?

Glaucon: Yes, Socrates, I am familiar with it. How could I not be?! This movie has been parodied extensively, to the point where one might feel acquainted with it even without having seen the movie or read the book Needful Things. I cannot stand this movie! I give it a D-!

Socrates: Having never seen the film, I believe it deserves a B+.

Glaucon: Absurd! How can you be so confident in your grading without having seen the film, Socrates?! Do you expect me to believe –

Socrates: First answer this: Could it be said that the movie suffers from a forced familiarity that arises from the actors within it having been typecast repeatedly in the 90s? Thus, one might anticipate their actions throughout the film? For example, does Max von Sydow assume the role of a mysterious outsider with a uniquely commanding yet restrained menacing presence? And does Ed Harris portray an everyman hero delivering powerful monologues with visible signs of intense emotion and pulsing neck veins?

Glaucon: They do, Socrates.

Socrates: And does the actress who plays Honey Bunny from Pulp Fiction exhibit explosively violent tendencies, while the actor who plays the mayor from Pleasantville portrays an unscrupulous local politician?

Glaucon: Indeed, Socrates. The movie’s predictability is largely derived from the actors’ past performances and roles. Moreover, the movie’s production and acting are quite subpar, and the runtime is 120 minutes, creating a massive endurance challenge for the audience!

Socrates: Ah, I see. With the multitude of predictable characters within the movie, does it become difficult to genuinely empathize with the central conflict, their plight when faced with the malevolent actions of Max von Sydow’s character?

Glaucon. Yes, Socrates! Curious too that he admits to deriving pleasure from instigating conflicts throughout history, which have resulted in some of the most notorious and blood-soaked atrocities! Why then has he suddenly opted to employ a magic thrift shop to torment and kill a select few losers in Maine? It just feels a little too Stephen King!

Socrates: Interesting, Glaucon. But despite your overall critique of the acting, would you say this film still contains a commendable performance by Max von Sydow, considering the circumstances? Does Sydow skillfully transition between the roles of a friendly Swedish grandfather and a malevolent figure selling evil antiques? I imagine that the script’s inclusion of woeful puns would pose a challenge for anyone to maintain a composed countenance during filming.

Glaucon: Certainly, Socrates. I will concede that his performance was well done considering the circumstances. But, I thought you said you haven’t seen –

Socrates: Glaucon, I think you will soon see the fault in your logic. Your high standards for acting are commendable even if they lack conviction and easily crumble when I ask a single question! Also, your critiques of familiarity and length are problematic. Might there be room for enjoyment in indulging in simpler pleasures? Even if the film lacks excellence, it still manages to offer a degree of entertainment value, does it not? You yourself just gushed obscenely at the acting prowess of Max Von Sydow!

Glaucon: I just said his performance was commendable under the circumstances! I struggle to find merit in celebrating mediocrity, Socrates. This is not how we create a just society!

Socrates: Length and character predictability can indeed hinder our ability to engage fully with a story. Yet, might we consider the possibility that the filmmakers intended to create a highly predictable film, tapping into the stability we crave from life itself? Could it be that the clockwork cast and seemingly unnecessary sprawling scenes serve a purpose beyond immediate comprehension? Should you perhaps wait longer than 15 minutes after a movie ends to condemn it?

Glaucon: Your perspective gives me pause, Socrates. Perhaps I have been too hasty in my judgment. However, I still maintain that cinema should strive for greatness: Great acting with great casting, great writing with great structure.

Socrates: This line of reasoning leads to a disappointing destination, Glaucon. Let us not discount the value of exploring the works of Stephen King and the ways in which his idiosyncrasies have permeated our collective horror consciousness. Within the realm of familiarity, there is still space for discovery and appreciation! How else can you explain why various cultures enthusiastically celebrate the same stories over and over again, from opera to ballet to Kabuki theater? You aren’t prejudiced against the Japanese, are you Glaucon?

Glaucon: Now, wait just a minute! I –

Socrates: Then you agree it is through the embracing of guilty pleasures and acknowledging their flaws that we expand our understanding of the human condition and find unexpected joys! Joys that we keep for ourselves, and others that we use for the betterment of society!

Glaucon: Your words resonate with me somewhat, Socrates. Although I fail to see how Needful Things will help better society in any meaningful –

Socrates: Indeed, Glaucon. I am pleased to hear that you realize that you are a ridiculous ninny. Let us not be too hasty when condemning cinematic guilty pleasures, for they often allow us to enjoy the simplicity of familiar narratives and participate in one of humanity’s great entertainment pastimes.

REVIEW: The Hidden (1987)

hidden

Take me to your leader… of this strip club.

The Hidden: B-

Socrates: Glaucon, my dear friend, I am curious about this film we’ve recently viewed together, The Hidden. It appears to be an amalgamation of borrowed elements from other movies, yet I enjoyed the film while you did not. Tell me, in your view, what is the essence of this cinematic creation on which you base your logic?

Glaucon: Socrates, it is a tired blend of familiar concepts. It borrows the premise of “Good Guy vs. Bad Guy from Another World” from my favorite film The Terminator and the idea of “Who’s the Monster in the Room?” from my other favorite movie The Thing. These elements, combined with mediocre production quality akin to Chuck Norris movies from this era, form a somewhat mindless experience that lasts for a full 90 minutes, yet I must admit I found it difficult to look away, which I cannot explain.

Socrates: Fascinating, indeed. But what strikes me as curious is that despite its conscious replication of other films, The Hidden garners widespread respect and praise. From esteemed critics like Roger Ebert to the faceless reviewers on Amazon.com, the film is spoken highly of. Do you not find it perplexing that a work that, as you believe, strips away the depth and meaning from its source material is celebrated as a solid film? How can you explain this paradox, Glaucon?

Glaucon: Indeed, Socrates, The Hidden deliberately replicates the plots and tropes of The Terminator and The Thing, yet it lacks the deeper allegorical and philosophical messages present in those films. While one may argue that these aspects were superficial in the aforementioned works, they were at least present and readable to some extent. The Hidden, however, revels in the futility of its own repetitive violence.

Socrates: Ah, an interesting observation, my friend. It appears you believe that The Hidden indulges in gratuitous destruction without offering any profound reflections on the human condition. I would like to return to this point in a moment, but if I may inquire further, could you shed light on the facets of the film’s premise – this tale of a parasitic alien criminal who possesses human hosts – that inspired your condemnation?

Glaucon: This is easy, Socrates! This alien parasite displays impulsive behavior, akin to the uncontrolled desires of the human Id, going on a rampage through the lens of a cheaply produced film. Possessing various hosts, the creature behaves in an extremely destructive and distressed state, as if consumed by the effects of methamphetamine. The campy depiction of a spree of grand theft auto, armed robbery, and assault is not art. The violence is meaningless and we’ve seen it in hundreds of other films before. It is not original. 

Socrates: I see. I recall that this alien parasite indulges in hedonistic destruction, slaying characters who embody the stereotypes of the 1980s, while also partaking in activities such as feasting on steaks and pilfering boom-boxes through a lens of stylized violence that resembles episodes from other works. Verily, it appears that originality is absent within this film, yet, it possesses a certain degree of amusement which you concede when you admit you cannot look away as the film plays. Glaucon, I must inquire: do you truly believe that the absence of originality diminishes the value of this film? And do you then, by extension, believe that the absence of originality in any work of art diminishes the value of that art?

Glaucon: I do, Socrates. 

Socrates: I believe you must now see how you are wrong. While I understand the importance of originality in art, I believe it is also crucial to consider the role of the demands of the audience. Is it not true that the greatness of a work lies not solely in its originality, but in its ability to fulfill the needs and desires of its viewers?

Glaucon: Pray tell, how can a film lacking originality still be considered great?

Socrates: Consider this, Glaucon. The Hidden, though borrowing heavily from other sources, manages to captivate its audience through familiarity. Is any great art truly original, or does it owe a debt to the art that came before it? 

Glaucon: Great art is original.

Socrates: Well then your favorite movie must therefore be original art in order to be great. Is The Terminator the first movie ever about robots? Or the first movie with the foreboding threat of apocalypse? Is it Arnold Schwarzenegger’s first starring role? Is it the first film about time travel?

Glaucon: No.

Socrates: And is The Thing the first movie about a man-killing alien? Is it the first horror movie built on isolation and paranoia? Is The Thing not a complete remake of an already existing film which itself is based off of a short story?

Glaucon: I think I am beginning to understand, Socrates. Great art can be original. But by drawing upon established tropes and delivering them in a manner that satisfies the desires of its viewers, it fulfills a specific need within the cinematic landscape. But are you suggesting, Socrates, that the value of a work of art lies in its ability to cater to the public? Is there not room for innovation or organic creativity?

Socrates: Ah, Glaucon, you raise a valid point. Indeed, innovation and creativity are important aspects of artistic expression. However, we must not disregard the impact of meeting the public’s desires and, vitally, how a filmmaker’s receptive observations of the time in which they live informs the way they see fit to satisfy these desires. 

Glaucon: Go on…

Socrates: Great works of art can be born from striking a delicate balance between originality and familiarity, between creativity and satisfying the audience’s yearning for certain elements. In the case of The Hidden, you have explained how the film’s own overt commitment to a lack of originality makes it uniquely original in and of itself through its quite deliberate intent to deliver concentrated dosages of most beloved elements of previous works of art. Is this not what many great works of art do? Just how The Terminator and The Thing borrow from works that came before them, they do so in their own unique ways that are in tune with the public, making them original. 

Glaucon: So, Socrates, you argue that greatness can be achieved by recognizing the needs of the public and fulfilling them effectively? And that this effective fulfillment is itself a work of original art?

Socrates: Precisely, Glaucon. The greatness of a work lies not solely in its originality but in its reception to the needs of the public. It is through this symbiotic relationship between artist and audience that true greatness can be attained. Perhaps this is what you could not look away while we viewed the film!

Glaucon: Your words shed new light on the matter, Socrates. The value of a work of art should be assessed not only through its originality but also by its resonance with the public, especially if this is done with such deliberate force that the result could be called original. It is in this balance that we find the true essence of greatness.

REVIEW: 976-EVIL 2 (1991)

“Here is an ancient text that discusses 976-EVIL.”

976-EVIL 2: D-

Socrates: Glaucon, I have come across a mind-bending film called 976-EVIL 2. It tells the story of Spike, a wise-cracking motorcyclist, who finds himself entangled in a battle against a haunted jerk-off hotline. Have you encountered such a narrative?

Glaucon: Socrates, I am well aware of this film, but I have no experience with actual jerk-off hotlines – haunted or otherwise. I need you to accept this fact before we converse further. 

Socrates: Glaucon, I am your friend. I am perfectly willing to uphold your ridiculous jerk-off hotline denials and pretend that you are not a sick deviant so that we may discuss the film. 

Glaucon (sighs): Very well, Socrates… Where shall we begin? With the villain, perhaps? The story revolves around a teacher with, shall we say, “unsavory” tendencies who uses a supernatural jerk-off hotline to project himself onto the astral plane to commit heinous acts against blonde teenagers. Quite a distasteful premise, wouldn’t you agree?

Socrates: Indeed, Glaucon. And what do you make of this teacher’s preference for targeting blonde teens? Does it not raise questions about the origin of his motives and the depths of his depravity? Targeting this group so specifically speaks to pathological behavior often present in minds that dwell in the depths of sexual fetishes, like… your friend… whom we discussed at length while exploring the philosophical depravity of 976-EVIL, the genesis for this Satanic jerk-off hotline saga. 

Glaucon: Ah yes, my friend Epicurus who was ensnared in the unfortunate web of phone sex addiction back in 1988… A sad, sad tale that absolutely centered on his carnal jerk-off hotline impulses! I do not think this film is so complicated, Socrates. Perhaps the slaying of numerous young blondes is merely a cinematic choice fit for the genre, a means to generate suspense and shock value. After all, these filmmakers often rely on such cheap tactics to captivate the audience. If we suspend our disbelief to allow for an astral plane jerk-off hotline, why not suspend it further and accept the premise at face value?

Socrates: Perhaps, Glaucon. Yet, as the story unfolds, we encounter a multitude of unoriginal ideas and borrowed elements beyond the reuse of the demonic jerk-off hotline. The parallels to other films, such as Evil Dead 2 and Pleasantville, are evident and there is also a character who is a veritable carbon copy of Elvira, Mistress of the Dark with dyed blonde hair. Does this not suggest a lack of creativity and originality on the part of the filmmakers worthy of condemning this film?

Glaucon: Socrates, it is not uncommon for artists to draw inspiration from existing works; you know this. We’re talking about the filmmakers who are crafting a feature film around a magical jerk-off hotline! And besides, there are new and exciting ideas in this film: Spike is haunted by phones; they ring wherever he goes! There is a scene where they manage to blow up a truck! How did they get the money for this, Socrates? Let us not forget about when Spike kills himself so he can infiltrate the astral plane and combat the evil blonde-killing teacher. 

Socrates: Indeed, Glaucon, what you speak is true. I will concede that this is the first film I have seen in which a teen suicide leads to the creation of an anti-jerk-off phone sex ghost. I am willing to give this film a D-.

Glaucon: Agreed!

REVIEW: 976-EVIL (1988)

976EVIL

976-EVIL (1988): D

Socrates: Glaucon, can you guess the reason I had selected 1988’s 976-EVIL for us to view tonight?

Glaucon: I’m not sure, Socrates. 

Socrates: Another question, then: We have been roommates for some time, yes?

Glaucon: For many years Socrates.

Socrates: And do you remember in 1988 when our phone bill was inordinately high due to some mysterious charges for numerous hours with 976 numbers? 

Glaucon: I… well… we’ve – we’ve been over this, Socrates! Epicurus was the one who called those numbers, not me! I would never –

Socrates: Ah, Glaucon, see how you jump to your own defense so suddenly?! Are you certain it was not you who sought the forbidden knowledge these numbers promised? Might it be that “Epicurus” is but a figment of your imagination, a veil you employ to conceal your own transgressions? How is it I’ve never met him? 

Glaucon: Socrates, I assure you, my words ring true. Epicurus was a dear friend who became ensnared in the siren’s call of those seductive digits. I merely bore witness to his unfortunate descent! I would never –

Socrates: Pray Glaucon, let us not dwell on your sexual perversions any longer! I tire of this pitiable game and, quite frankly, feel sickened by your lies. Rather, let us delve into the nature of this film, 976-EVIL, if you are able to calm yourself and suppress your temper, that is. The title suggests a connection to those infamous phone sex lines from the past. Yet, it appears that the movie does not explore many sexual connotations. Why do you think there is a misalignment between the film’s title and its content?

Glaucon: Perhaps the filmmakers sought to entice viewers with the allure of the supernatural, Socrates. For example, they may have intentionally employed the misleading cover art – the long-haired devilish phantom on the cover – to captivate the audience’s attention.

Socrates: Ah, so you believe that the movie manipulates the viewers’ expectations through deceptive marketing strategies! But let us explore the actual premise, unless you believe it will inspire you to become too aroused for speech. 

Glaucon: Aroused?! How dare you! I happen to – 

Socrates: Curb your violent lust, Glaucon, and recall with me how the film portrays a scenario where calling the titular number leads to encounters with Satan and the acquisition of demonic powers. Is this portrayal effective in creating a sense of tension and intrigue?

Glaucon: I don’t believe so, Socrates. The execution falls short of expectations. The movie predominantly focuses on building suspense between each kill, failing to establish a strong connection with the characters while more attention is paid to subtle changes in make-up effects for the accursed lead. The premise itself appears rather foolish and lacks the desired impact.

Socrates: Glaucon, I cannot help but sense a touch of guilt behind your eyes while you discuss this film centered on a haunted phone sex line, as if the dark secrets of Epicurus might be none other than a shadow cast by your own actions.

Glaucon: Socrates, I beseech you to believe my words. Epicurus, is a creation of imagination? Is the embodiment of another’s transgressions? These are foolish theories. I stand blameless in this tale of 976 numbers and was but a concerned observer while my dear friend destroyed himself. 

Socrates: Denial is the enemy of the philosopher, Glaucon as it conditions us to avoid confronting the truth. Now let us reflect on the implications of the film’s ridiculous plot. The protagonist, a rather abused nerd, succumbs to the allure of 976-EVIL and seeks vengeance against his tormentors. In doing so, he becomes a vessel for evil as we see the consequences of dialing those sinister and expensive numbers. The deaths by claws and spiders and the possessed room reminiscent of the most famous scene from Evil Dead 2 are most memorable. These are the elements that shape the narrative, but still, the question remains—what dark subtext lies hidden beneath the surface? Can we discern any philosophical lessons from this narrative if we delve deeper?

Glaucon: It appears to be a simple cautionary tale, Socrates, warning against the temptations of power and the consequences of surrendering oneself to darkness and phone sex-related temptations. The film conveys the notion that the pursuit of revenge can lead to the loss of one’s soul and the realization of the futility of violence.

Socrates: Indeed, Glaucon, there is wisdom in your interpretation! Revenge, it seems, is a path that ultimately leads to one’s own destruction. However, I cannot help but notice a peculiar connection between the film’s themes and the experiences of your “friend.” Might there be more to the cautionary tale here? Could it be that the movie indirectly alludes to the perils of indulging expensive sexual telephone activities that affect one’s roommates?

Glaucon: Socrates, while the film’s portrayal of the consequences of phone sex addiction is gripping, I assure you that my involvement in such matters is purely observational. My dear friend was to blame for the phone bill. I believe we are again drifting from our philosophical purpose by dwelling on –  

Socrates: Then it is settled, Glaucon. 976-EVIL, while quite lackluster in its delivery, begs us to consider the consequences of indulging in hours of phone sex at the expense of our loved ones. Our souls hang on the precipice while our late-night exploits – like the ones of your… friend – prove to be more costly than beneficial. I am glad to see we agree so fully and hope you will seek professional help for your embarrassing sex addiction, before we discuss the sequel, Glaucon.