Tuesday, May 28, 2013

ARRESTED DEVELOPMENT, Season 4 (2013): Family. Love. Michael.


 One thing I never really noticed was that Michael was the villain.

Even though he was the protagonist of the first three seasons of "Arrested Development," which aired on Fox in truncated form from 2003 to 2006, Michael Bluth (Jason Bateman) was in fact never the hero of the show.  Even though he was constantly nagged by conscience, he rarely followed it.  He had every selfish impulse of his corrupt family, and one worse: a false sense of moral superiority.  He was constantly learning lessons too late (whether they be via one-armed teacher or not), usually at the expense of poor George Michael (Michael Cera), his son.

Michael is a bad father, a bad son, and a bad businessman, and the new season of "Arrested Development" on Netflix doesn't forget it.  The old show on Fox used Michael as a moral center--at least he thought about doing the right thing before eventually doing the wrong one--the new show begins with him at a moral and financial rock bottom.  After disowning the family and unsuccessfully starting his own housing business, he's dealt an especially humbling blow from George Michael, who slyly boots him from his college dorm in one of many hilariously pathetic scenes.  The new season finds its core in a different, much more intriguing place.

The new season, like the previous ones, is a remarkable spiral of complex sub-plots upon sub-plots, callbacks, call-forwards, reflexive references, in-jokes, and a narrative so twisted that it takes a particularly astute narrator (Ron Howard) to keep it straight.  Each of its fifteen episodes is told from the point of view of a different family member: Michael, George Michael, father George (Jeffrey Tambor), mother Lucille (Jessica Walter), brothers G.O.B. (Will Arnett) and Buster (Tony Hale), sister Lindsay (Portia de Rossi) and her husband Tobias (David Cross), and niece Maeby (Alia Shawkat).

It's a different format from the first three seasons, but one that works better on Netflix than on a traditional network.  Free of commercials and time limits, the show goes even further into a Rashomon-like format, in which the same timeline is seen from different characters' points of view and certain sub-stories are told back-to-front.  All of the plots revolve around the climactic event of Cinco de Cuatro, an Orange County celebration devised by Lucille as a revenge-competition to Cinco de Mayo, at which most of the main characters find themselves at their respective crossroads.

As usual, several motifs run throughout the show, including mistaken identities, twins and doubles.  George Sr. and his twin brother Oscar once again grapple for superiority, and for Lucille.  Andy Richter reappears as himself and at least one of his show-business quintuplets.  And as before, there are two Lucilles.  This season also has a surprising spiritual context, which is pirated unlovingly from Eat Pray Love but plays a decidedly large role in several of the storylines.  Or maybe that's a red herring.  Or maybe not.

The most interesting arc, oddly enough, ends up being that of Tobias, who shrugs off the old series's constant jabs at his latent homosexuality, but not his undying commitment to a hopeless acting career and inability to keep track of what comes out of his mouth.  He's bolstered by Maria Bamford, who as his meth-addicted wannabe-actress love interest Debrie (yes, pronounced that way) is maniacally charming and the highlight of the season.



George Michael is also compelling, as the one character we truly want to see succeed.  Cera, who has worked hard as of late to shake his awkward-kid image, wisely matures his character along with him; though he's still plagued with the same problems, including a nagging desire for his cousin Maeby, he's trying hard not to be the passive doormat anymore.  Shawkat does the same with Maeby; her episode, in which she proves to be possibly the most tenacious one in the family, is a standout.

Many of the previous seasons' characters reappear here, as do some interesting new characters.  To reveal some of them would be an unthinkable spoiler, but it should be no surprise that lawyer Barry Zuckerkorn (Henry Winkler) returns, more incompetent than ever.  Isla Fisher has one of the less flashy roles in the show, but she's just appealing enough to be a believable love interest for Michael.  Kristen Wiig and Seth Rogen are hilarious, playing young Lucille and George in flashbacks.  John Beard, actual L.A. newscaster, returns in an expanded and very funny role.  A cameo by Ed Helms, reprising his brief role in the original series, is casually uproarious.

After seven years, fans of the show no doubt have high expectations.  This new season meets them and does them better.  It takes a difficult formula and a more challenging assembly of actors (the cast was notoriously hard to reunite due to scheduling) and spins them into a fascinating new series that could, fingers crossed, (spoiler alert?) continue long after the fifteenth episode concludes.  Please tell your friends about this show.

"Arrested Development" is currently available on Netflix Instant.

Friday, May 3, 2013

THE LORDS OF SALEM (2013)



The Lords of Salem is the first sign that Rob Zombie might be a true auteur, in the horror genre and otherwise. I’ve been waiting for him to come into his own ever since he debuted with House of 1000 Corpses, which was a total mess but at least revealed a filmmaker who took his work seriously, and wanted to deliver something more than the average boo-boo ha-ha stab-slice genre fare.

The Lords is not great, but it’s the most complete and satisfying piece he’s put out so far. It’s the story of the demonic possession of a young woman, told not in realistic form but as sense experience. Zombie uses The Shining as a template and projects the movie from the mind of his main character outward. We experience the possession as she does, rather than as an outside observer would.

The demon naturally arrives in the form of a rock song. Salem rock radio deejay Heidi LaRoc (Sheri Moon Zombie, the director’s wife) receives a strange vinyl record in the mail. She plays it, and sets into motion the rise of the Devil in Salem, and the rebirth of the “Lords of Salem,” the name for a group of witches who were burned in colonial times.

What we have here is essentially a feminist horror film, which is a rarity. While the witches are cunning, the colonial-era men who hunt them (including genre vets Andrew Prine, Sid Haig, and Michael Berryman) are boorish and bloodthirsty. Meanwhile, in the modern-day plot, the Satanic force that overtakes Heidi is decidedly male, represented in phallic imagery that is ramped up to a near-ludicrous level as the film goes on. The men who try to help Heidi--a longtime friend and colleague played by Jeffrey Daniel Phillips and an occult expert played cheekily by Bruce Davison--are benign and useless.

The plot is certainly a recipe for silliness, but Zombie doesn’t treat it that way. The movie brazenly accepts a premise as far-fetched as Satanism; Zombie's tone is dreadfully serious and successfully eerie throughout. Take the opening scene, for example, in which a coven of naked witches perform a ritual before a pyre. Listen to the dialogue on its own and it sounds like something out of Manos: The Hands of Fate. But Zombie, with help from composers John 5 and Griffin Boyce and cinematographer Brandon Trost, makes it into a quite spooky and foreboding setup for what is to come.

Zombie very convincingly and carefully transforms Heidi’s life into a wide-awake nightmare. He wisely never allows us to see a perspective of her possession that is not hers. We’re never sure of what others can see because she can never be sure either. We witness the engineering of her madness from the inside out, as in one particularly effective scene in which we learn what happens when she tries to go to church. Ms. Moon Zombie delivers a measured, sympathetic, believable performance that’s a complete 180 from her histrionic, grating murderess from House of 1000 Corpses.

The parallel plot, in which the Davison character does some research into the devil record and tries to help Heidi, is less original and less interesting, but is correct in the context of the film. Though it pulls us out of Heidi’s point of view, it’s necessary to keep the constant sensory bombardment from becoming numbing. As Heidi’s landlady and her two mysterious friends, Judy Geeson, Patricia Quinn, and Dee Wallace add some deviously absurd comic relief, modeled on Ruth Gordon’s character in Rosemary’s Baby.

If the finale is disappointing, it’s only because Zombie has set up a culmination of beastly proportions: a rock concert combined with a demonic possession and an entrance into hell. Budget constraints likely prevented Zombie from making it into the massive full-on eve of destruction it appears to promise, but he still delivers a climax that is an appropriate summation of everything that’s come before it. Above all, it ends on a note of sufficient madness.

*** out of ****

NOTE: The very funny film-within-a-film, featured on various TVs throughout the movie, is called Frankenstein and the Witch Hunter. It features several actors without whom a Zombie film would be incomplete. I’d very much like to see it on a triple bill alongside Don't and Mant.