Comedy

Mr. and Mrs. Smith (1941)  

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Mr. and Mrs. Smith wasn’t the first romantic comedy Alfred Hitchcock directed. He did some early in his career, 1928’s Champagne being one of the best. But by 1941, he was much better-known for mystery-thrillers like The Man Who Knew Too Much, The Lady Vanishes and Foreign Correspondent.

Mr. and Mrs. Smith’s star, Carole Lombard, was the one with the rom-com pedigree, but after losing the role of Scarlett O’Hara to Vivien Leigh, she had been proving her versatility with serious dramas. Mr. and Mrs. Smith was her return to comedy, and she wanted it to be special, so she lobbied to have Hitchcock direct, thinking that he’d bring a fresh perspective to the genre.

He didn’t. Mr. and Mrs. Smith is a standard screwball comedy with the requisite farce being that the title characters learn they were never legally married. When Ann Smith (Lombard) decides that that’s all for the best and that she doesn’t want to get remarried, David (Robert Montgomery) has to woo her all over again. The problem is in courting someone who already knows all his faults.

Unfortunately, the movie isn’t very funny and — since Ann is far more unlikable than her husband (he’s not flawless, but Montgomery’s charm goes a long way) — I never actually wanted him to win her over. Hitchcock and pals do get some dramatic mileage from the situation — anyone who’s had a long, intense relationship end without warning will relate to David’s wanting to win her back in spite of her failings — but even that’s resolved too quickly and randomly to be satisfying. —Michael May

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Kitchen Sink

Repo! The Genetic Opera (2008)

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If the thought of watching a low-budget slasher/Goth musical co-starring Paris Hilton makes your blood run cold, you’d do best to stop reading now, because you won’t find a truer example of this incredibly rare sub-genre than Repo! The Genetic Opera, from Saw sequel director Darren Lynn Bousman. If, however, you find yourself intrigued, by all means read on … and please seek some obviously much-needed psychiatric help.

Joining the hotel heiress are The Devil’s Rejects’ Bill Mosely and Skinny Puppy’s Ogre as the scions of Paul Sorvino, the ruthless owner of Geneco, the medical corporation that essentially rules a future world where elective organ transplantation is the norm. Diagnosed with an inoperable fatal disease, Sorvino sets in motion his plan to gain his final revenge on a past romantic rival (Anthony Head), which involves the corruption of the man’s sheltered young daughter (Spy Kids’ Alexa Vega).

Also along for the ride is a still-fetching Sarah Brightman as Blind Mag, Geneco’s spokeswoman, whose upcoming retirement comes at a significant price. The film’s title references Head’s day job, which requires him to repossess the organs of unlucky Geneco customers unable to make their payments.

Bloody and over-the-top, the film plays like an oddly compelling combination of Ken Russell’s Tommy and Tim Burton’s Sweeney Todd, and while it doesn’t measure up to either of those films, it does feature impressive production values for what was obviously a very low budget, and a wordless cameo from Joan Jett, which is the best kind of cameo there is. —Allan Mott

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Horror

Uzumaki (2000)

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The Japanese horror film Uzumaki will make your head spin … but not necessarily in a good way. The crazy shit all starts when schoolgirl Kirie Goshima (Eriko Hatsune) notices her boyfriend Shuichi’s father being mesmerized by a snail shell, then a pottery wheel — anything containing a spiral, which he captures obsessively with a camcorder.

The old man’s madness soon results in his suicide, at which point it spreads to the immediate populace via a spiraling plume of smoke. Soon, everyone in that vortex shape — hair curls, an inner-ear part, a millipede — sends everyone to Loopyville. As They Might Be Giants once sang, “The spiraling shape will make you go insane / Everyone wants to see that groovy thing.”

You’re better off with the TMBG tune or Junji Ito’s terrific three-volume manga on which this flick is based. Whereas the books move quickly, page by page, the movie shambles about at a pace of one of its supporting characters: the one who shows up at school shuffling along with a prodigious slime trail behind him.

Director Higuchinsky — yes, just the one name — succeeds in presenting the tale with some interesting angles and inventive setups, and does not skimp on gore when it’s called for. The apocalyptic end scene, however, looks drawn, demonstrating the limitations of the budget. It’s a semi-solid try, but with such rich material to draw from, could be far creepier and far better. —Rod Lott

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Comedy

Monster High (1989)

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How bad is Monster High? This bad:
1) Even if I hate you, I hope you never have to see it.
2) It should bear the credit “written and directed by Jason Friedberg and Aaron Seltzer.”
3) I’d rather not watch anything for 84 minutes than sit through it again.

The list could go on and on, but let’s get down to business: Two aliens named Dume and Glume — ha, get it? — steal a wooden box containing a doomsday device. After it lands on Earth on the grounds of Montgomery Sterling High School, whereupon it kills a dog, the box is then stolen by one Mr. Armageddon.

Then lots of weird things appear in the school halls: head-smothering condoms, neck-strangling plants,a preppy zombie, a horny gargoyle, a mummy, a creature in red sneakers. It ends with the students squaring off against Mr. Armageddon at a climactic basketball match. Apparently, this plot is so complex that every scene requires narration.

The jokes — I apologize to the word “jokes” — are so insipid, that I also should apologize to the word “insipid.” An example: Dume and Glume rap! About penises and vaginas! Sample lyric: “You got your fimbriae / And your scrotum sac / And if your hymen is gone / It ain’t coming back.” Yes, Monster High has all the subtlety of a Three Stooges short. (Sorry, Moe, Larry and Curly.)

Apparently, all of the brainpower went into crafting names for the characters: Norm Median, Candice Caine, Mel Anoma, Miss Anne Thrope, Coach Otto Parts. The movie has exactly one thing going for it: boobs. Lots of large, naked breasts appear, and they’re from the era where they were real, rather than purchased on layaway. However, all the nude women are unseen from the neck up, as if they didn’t want anyone to know their identity. Smart move, ladies. —Rod Lott

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