National Cinema Day Double Feature: “Jaws” and “Bodies Bodies Bodies”

                           

Ten o’clock in the morning is as good a time as any to rewatch “Jaws”, particularly in a full restoration in 3-D. There is nothing I can add to the film that hasn’t already been said before and better, but I do have to say, the enhancement only served to show how complete a film it is.

That Spielberg came to his second feature so fully formed, prepared, and in command of his narrative faculties and facility is now part of cinematic lore. This is one of those “perfect” films that accomplishes what it set out to and changed the landscape of cinema in doing so. How could 3-D (or IMAX; that option was available) add to the picture?

In this instance, it actually helped bring out the visual work of cinematographer Bill Butler’s work. The depth of field felt richer and for sure, there was a greater sense of where we are in the space of any given shot. Or maybe that was simply my confirmation bias! 

As with most great cinema, when you return to it, you are simply in it. Full stop. It’s the storytelling first, then the distinct qualities of the sound and visuals that show us what’s going on. A visual feast with nothing to say might be easy to appreciate as abstraction or experiment, but if it is a narrative and the visuals overwhelm or negate the story, then regardless of how awe-inspiring the image, the film is a narrative failure. Something that this is not.

It was also lovely to really appreciate what the actors were doing throughout and if there were any revelations to a performance I’ve seen more than once, it was in Dreyfus’s Hooper. I wouldn’t say I dismissed him earlier, and maybe it’s because I know where his arc is going that I appreciate more how his relationship with Quint is more layered than I first realized, but Dreyfus brings it. 

I also found myself attaching more deeply to the humanity of the Amity crowds and side characters. It’s also telling that I feel more deeply the tragedy of the victims each time I see the movie. The deaths land. Hard. 

Of course, Bruce is still Bruce, a killing machine with a taste for human flesh and even though I know the mechanical issues with the shark and the troubles this caused in production, he still reads as a remorseless, territorial threat (and a symbol for whatever woes or existential threats you care to apply). There is no need for additional effects. 

In fact, given how much of what we see are purely practical and even in camera effects, it almost makes me wish Spielberg would try for doing one more non-effects laden feature in his life. Magic can be made without CGI.

If anything about the experience was genuinely enhanced, it was the experience of hearing a woman literally shriek when Chrissie gets killed and later, when Ben Gardner’s corpse appears in the hull of his boat. Had she not seen the movie before? If so, my hat’s off to her for making this her entree to it. 

When I booked my reservation, there was only one other person in the theater. When I left, there was quite a crowd that I had missed when I sat down. And they had the good sense and reasonable reaction to applaud when the film was over. 

Naturally, it being National Cinema Day, and tickets only three dollars, I decided on a second film. I settled on “Bodies Bodies Bodies” because I do like a good slasher film, particularly if it’s going to be a meta-commentary (yes, yes, I know it’s been done to death since “Scream”, but done well, the metatextuality can be fun). 

“Bodies Bodies Bodies” was not bad. In fact, it was well shot, acted, and the script scored more than it fumbled. 

Halina Reijn’s direction was assured throughout and she kept the film moving at just the right pace. Sarah DeLappe’s screenplay held the right amount of tension throughout and while most of the characters were vacuous and self-absorbed to a tiresome degree, the script and the actors were able to pull them back from being thoroughly unlikeable or unsympathetic. 

Anytime a story resolves around the rich, entitled, and young in the 21st century landscape, there is sure to be socially pointed barbs. Critical observations about the narcissism engendered by privilege and magnified by social media are increasingly a dime a dozen, but in this instance, most were well-put. 

Maria Bakalova had the most sympathetic role as Bee, Sophie’s (a super Amandla Sternberg), who is pretty much seen as not coming from money, very much in love, and unassuming in the face of the group of rich kids surrounding her. Very much the audience surrogate, it might be that she and Lee Pace’s Greg (a forty something guy dating one of the twenty something girls) are the anchors for the viewer to relate to.

Pete Davidson turns in a smarmy performance as David, Sophie’s best friend and whose parent’s house the action takes place in during a “hurricane party.” The privilege and pettiness is established early on once Sophie and Bee arrive and things go south in short order even before it’s suggested that they play “Bodies Bodies Bodies” where everyone draws a card, and the player who draws a card with an “X” is the killer. The lights go out and the “killer” taps someone as the victim to be discovered by another player or players who yell “Bodies Bodies Bodies” and the rest of the game is determining who the killer is. 

Greg is the “victim” and after a semi-cringey period of the “investigation” falling into bitchiness, cat-calling, insults, and spoiled rich kids growing increasingly annoying, he excuses himself to return to his room to rest. And then the bodies begin to pile up.

I won’t go into much detail except to say that each successive demise is predicated on a set-up for what is now one of my favorite punchlines of a plot I’ve seen. I’ll be honest: I have waited a long time to see a “Ten Little Indians” type tale wrap up like this. Along the way, though, with diminishing numbers, the survivors come into greater focus and there is a kind of bittersweet leavening of snark that comes out as we grow closer to the denouement. 

If I’ve got a gripe, it is that for too much of the film, the characters are thinly drawn and the dialog isn’t as clever as it could be. I’ve heard the movie described as “Ten Little Indians” directed by John Cassavetes, and while that is compelling, it isn’t totally accurate. Additionally, that same dialog would have benefited from a bit of doctoring by someone like Diablo Cody. While much sounds true to the idea of younger people who live online to speak in the rubrics of contemporary pop psychology and have the lack of irony and self-awareness that stems from that as targets for skewering, the laughs that are intended don’t quite show up. I don’t think it’s a lack of timing or talent; it’s that it takes time for the movie to establish its tone and footing. Once it does, then it takes off. Definitely, a fun, if inconsequential watch.

I considered taking in a third movie, but the theater lobby was PACKED with lines at each of the ticket kiosks and beside, it was a nice day. 

Postscript

Reading the trades, it is really difficult to take movie industry journalism too seriously normally. On Monday, I had no room for the shock - yes, SHOCK - that the weekend was among the worst in recent history. How could that be? Various pundits pondered and pontificated. Everyone that I read noted that Labor Day Weekend is the worst weekend in any given year for movies. But I’m the one who is shocked that these same pundits, even as they are referring to the three dollar ticket price, didn’t seem to factor that into the weekend’s take.

When the average price of a ticket is around ten bucks, and you cut the price to a third of that, I really do not think it takes an economist to recognize that revenue might just take a hit. National Cinema Day did what it was supposed to do; get butts in seats, sell concessions, and maybe remind people that going to the movies is fun. 

However, a reality check tells us that this is a one-off. The Sunday after National Cinema Day returns with the usual prices and what are most people going to do, particularly those with families? Even without ten dollar popcorn and drinks, a family of four on Saturday paid twelve dollars to go see a film; on Sunday, it’s likely that it was more like twelve dollars for each family member. 

I suppose I could bemoan the cost of admission to movies. Lord knows, I don’t like it, but as long as the experience still provides magic, a theatrical experience is special. On the other hand, if I had kids, it would have to be extra special.