December 23, 2024 • 46 mins
In the third installment of Shelf Christmas-ism, Stephen unpacks the chaotic, campy, and utterly unforgettable Gremlins (1984). From adorable Mogwai to mischievous monsters, this Joe Dante-directed classic walks the line between horror and hilarity, offering biting critiques of consumerism, nods to Hollywood classics, and more Christmas chaos than you can shake a candy cane at.
Join Stephen as he dives into the film’s zany tone, explores its surprising depth (yes, there’s a Marxist critique of consumerism in there), and revisits the infamous Santa speech that nearly derailed Christmas for countless kids. Along the way, he shares his own childhood memories of Gremlins—including a stuffed Gizmo and Hardee’s book promotions—and takes a critical look at the performances, the enduring appeal, and the undeniable flaws of this holiday creature feature.
Is Gremlins a Top Shelf Christmas movie, or does it belong with the fruitcakes and re-gifted socks? Tune in to find out!
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Transcript
Episode Transcript
Available transcripts are automatically generated. Complete accuracy is not guaranteed.
(00:00):
Christmas carolers.
(00:05):
I hate Christmas carolers.
Screeching voice, no.
Blue snippers.
I warned you, Brant!
I warned you, Brant!
(00:44):
Welcome to Shelf Criticism.
Meet your host, Stephen, a scholar of literature and film by day.
And by night, a cinematic archaeologist with a penchant for everything from art house to popular to outright trash cinema.
Over the past quarter century, Stephen has amassed an eclectic DVD collection,
now occupying five shelves of a Curio cabinet in his living room.
(01:06):
Each week, he bravely selects one of these titles to dissect.
Doing him as he unearths everything from obscure gems to cinematic missteps.
From blockbuster hits to forgotten flops, each film gets the critical once over it probably doesn't deserve but will absolutely receive.
So grab your popcorn and settle in.
It's time to dive into the diverse world of Shelf Criticism.
(01:36):
Welcome and thanks for coming, all ye faithful.
Christmas is just around the corner this week and I suppose I'm about to get as blasted festive as I'm going to get.
My subscribers already know I don't hate this holiday.
Certainly not in the way that Kate does in today's film.
Though to be fair, she has a darn good reason.
But me, I just kinda find it meh.
It's nice to have Christmas breakfast with my family.
(01:57):
Chocolate gravy and biscuits, y'all.
If you aren't from Alabama, you just wouldn't understand.
But it is a culinary delicacy.
I like giving gifts, though I'm much less fond of receiving them.
It's just so awkward, all those eyes on you and even genuine reactions feel kinda forced and scripted.
As I told Mackenzie on her Christmas episode of Real It, forgive the shameless plug, although I'm not apologizing,
there's not a single Christmas song that slaps.
(02:20):
Except Christmas and Hollis by Run DMC.
Everything Run DMC did slaps.
Not for nothing, but I'm still whamless for yet another Christmas.
Just two more days.
Still, I'm plowing right along with Shelf Christmascism.
If you haven't already, check out my earlier December episodes, The Holiday and Elf.
And if either or both of those films are beloved by you, I do apologize in advance.
Also, my other podcast, Real It, the unsurpassable Mackenzie and I tackle the book-film combo
(02:44):
Nothing Lasts Forever and Die Hard.
Oh, and if you don't think Die Hard is a Christmas film, I apologize in advance.
Today's film may also fall into that category of non-traditional Christmas film, but it's undeniably one.
In fact, I think not only does it have an even stronger case than Die Hard,
I don't have much of a problem calling it a traditional Christmas film.
Not only is it set at Christmas time, it literally revolves around a Christmas gift gone wrong.
(03:06):
There are a few naysayers out there like Michael Walsh writing in The Nerdist,
but they're just being contrary or they're too traditionalist.
Don't tell me Christmas films can't have monsters.
The Abominable Snowman and Rudolph the Red-Nosed Frickin' Reindeer?
The fact that this film was released in June means diddly.
I heard that same argument made against Die Hard.
Since I made this argument on Real It not two days ago, I'll give you the Cliff Notes version here.
(03:28):
Christmas in Connecticut, Holiday Inn, and Miracle on 34th Street all had summer releases.
White Christmas came out in October.
Heck, It's a Wonderful Life did get a New York City release on December 20th,
but it didn't get its nationwide premiere until January 7th.
Seriously, come at me, bro. I dare you. I got arguments and logic and facts.
I don't, however, feel as though I need to defend this film,
but at the same time, I don't think I need to defend Die Hard as it's so obvious, but some people.
(03:52):
Either way, there's a whole lot more about this film that I want to talk about.
The nostalgia is strong with me on this one,
and while I did see some flaws when I watched it this time around, viewing with a much more critical eye,
I still loved every campy, zany, frantic second of it.
Today's shelf pick is the 1984 film directed by Joe Dante,
produced by some guy named Steven Spielberg you may have heard of.
So grab a snack, unless it's after midnight, and let's talk gremlins.
(04:16):
So I own the 2002 special release of this film.
On the DVD front, the background is white, with Gizmo standing low left of center,
looking adorable, as he's wont to do.
He is casting an elongated, less than cuddly shadow, however, that of Stripe.
A red border surrounds the entire cover.
At the top, in black letters, we're told, Steven Spielberg presents.
In red letters beneath, we have gremlins, and in blue beneath that, special edition.
(04:41):
In black text on the right-hand side, we're told, what you see,
ellipses, isn't always what you get.
If we look on the DVD back, the cover copy is enclosed in a rectangle,
and Stripe, wearing a pair of sunglasses and his trademark smirk,
sticks his head up on the left-hand side.
Opposite him in red letters, we're told, a hoot, not to be missed,
by David Anson of Newsweek.
(05:02):
This is actually one of the better written cover copies that I've seen.
I don't have any issues with the grammar, at least, which is amazing.
It reads, celebrate one of the funniest movies of all time like never before.
Feed your hunger, but not after midnight, with never-before-seen footage.
Shine a bright light behind the creation of this unforgettable film
with a pair of commentaries that reunite the original cast and crew.
(05:24):
Swim in a pool of brand new extras, including a photo gallery,
a making-of featurette, and a newly remastered soundtrack.
Gremlins is a wildly original rollercoaster ride of hilarious mischief.
One minute your hair will stand on end, and the next you'll hold your sides
with laughter at the havoc these supposedly gentle furballs create
when the rules are broken.
One of the most fondly remembered box office hits of recent time,
and with sly special effects that dazzle and enchant,
(05:47):
Gremlins is, quote, what superior popular moviemaking is all about.
Richard Corliss of Time.
Like I said, zero gripes on that cover copy.
Yeah, it might split hairs for accuracy,
and that the havoc isn't wreaked by the furballs
until they are scaly and reptilian instead of actually furry,
but overall it gets the point across.
We got a bunch of special features.
In all caps, most of them written, like, stop yelling at me, man.
(06:11):
Over ten minutes of never-before-seen footage.
Behind-the-scenes documentary.
Feature-length commentaries.
Number one, with director Joe Dante, Phoebe Cates,
Zach Galligan, Dick Miller, and Howie Mandel.
Where is Howie Mandel, you might ask?
Well, he's actually the voice of Gizmo,
so you got a little trivia early here.
Number two, with director Joe Dante, producer Michael Fennell,
or Fennell, I'm not sure, and special effects artist Chris Wallace.
(06:32):
Photo storyboard gallery.
Cast and crew film highlights.
All-new 2001 digital transfer.
It does look pretty good on the screen.
Soundtrack remastered and presented in both Dolby Digital 5.1
and Dolby Surround 2.0.
And then suddenly the caps lock is turned off for reasons.
Theatrical trailer.
By the way, they have the original 1984 theatrical trailer,
(06:53):
the trailer for the special edition, and the trailer for Gremlins 2.
And then languages and subtitles, English, Francois, and Espanol.
That's the way they're written.
How I Came to Own It.
Like Die Hard that I just discussed,
Gremlins plays a large role in my journey to a cinephile.
My mother likes to tell the story of my first ever moviegoing experience,
The Fox and the Hound.
It tells me the minute the screen came on, my jaw dropped
(07:15):
as I stared in wild amazement at this gigantic TV screen.
I don't recall that, but I do remember going,
despite the fact that this would have been July of 1981, I think,
making me four months shy of being four years old.
Honestly, though, all I really remember was looking back
where the projector was and seeing a little tiny rectangle
and a beam of light stretching all the way to the screen.
That and running around pretending I was a fox for like four months after that.
(07:38):
Oh, and another totally unrelated piece of trivia.
Corey Feldman was the voice of young Copper.
Feldman, of course, also plays Pete in Gremlins.
But long story short, the first film I do remember vividly was Gremlins,
some three years later.
That's why I was six years old here.
And I guess technically it would have also been my sister's
first moviegoing experience, but she was sort of in the womb.
So I don't think that counts.
But the memories run deep.
(08:00):
For starters, my mother, a very pious woman,
cannot weather the dreaded GD word, as we'll call it.
Or actually, the way she says it is,
I'll say my ving.
There's always this disdain that just drips disapproval in her voice
when she says it.
And I get it.
You know, she's very pious.
That's hard for her to weather.
I'm not knocking it.
I just remember her complaining almost immediately
as Murray Futterman's penchant for using this oath
(08:22):
to refer to foreign-made merchandise
is on display in the first very few minutes.
I also remember just wishing she would hush and let me enjoy the film.
And again, this is not to disrespect my mother.
Please don't think I mean that.
I am an unapologetic mama's boy who loves her wholeheartedly.
It's just apparently even at the ripe age of six,
I wasn't going to let objectionable language
or potentially offensive content ruin my viewing experience.
(08:44):
And I think I still feel that way today.
Even if I'm watching something that is going out of its way
to be offensive or tasteless, very little causes me to even blink.
Now, what can I say?
I've read French literature.
Hard to be shocked after tackling the likes of Georges Battal
or Octave Mirbeau.
Anyway, once my mother settled down, I remember a nonstop thrill ride
from gushing over how adorable Gizmo was
or how unique his quote unquote singing voice was
(09:07):
to laughing and cringing all along with the over the top antics of Stripe
and his twisted issue to knowing that I really liked looking at Phoebe Cates,
even if I was too downy eyed innocent to understand yet why.
I liked it.
When I left the theater, I was on an entertainment high,
likely blathering on and on about it the entire car ride home.
Once we got home, even though no major electronic compliances were on the fritz,
(09:30):
I took Mr. Pelsord's advice.
Turn on all the lights, check all the closets and cupboards,
look under all the beds, because you never can tell.
There just might be a gremlin in your house.
My mother found that so hilarious, she still tells that story to this day.
So how the DVD got on my shelf?
I bought it.
What, you were expecting another detailed stroll down the cliched memory lane?
(09:51):
Sorry to disappoint.
This one's just a lot simpler.
As I've mentioned on this podcast before, I worked at Best Buy during this time,
which meant I always knew what new releases and reissues were hitting the shelves.
One week I saw a special edition of gremlins in the sales circular,
and even though I had the day off, that was Tuesday,
back then new DVD releases hit the shelf on that day, I don't know why,
but I made it a point to swing by and grab a copy.
That night I popped in the DVD player and watched it
(10:13):
with the woman I was dating at the time, who had never seen it.
She found it amusing, but I think that's as far as I went for her,
but over the years I've pulled it out for the occasional re-watch.
Not annually, like Die Hard or Christmas Vacation,
but it's a sporadic treat, not a yearly tradition.
And I know that story's anticlimactic.
What can I say? Life isn't as well structured as a movie script.
But speaking of structure, let's see how this film holds up to the critical lens.
(10:35):
Critical Reception. This film holds an 86% on Rotten Tomatoes.
It drops to a 70 on Metacritic.
I do, however, need to inject a caveat here.
So Metacritic is only basing this off 13 reviews.
Rotten Tomatoes, on the other hand, is working off of 81.
However, the overwhelming majority of those reviews are not contemporaneous.
Instead, they look at the DVD releases or simply go off Christmas nostalgia.
(10:56):
It's safe to say the film has at least a cult following,
and it appears to have aged better than its initial reception.
Scrolling down to the earliest of those 81 reviews, one sees a lot less favorability.
In fact, writing for the BBC, Almar Hafladison,
I'm sorry, I hope I pronounced your name right,
remarks, Grimlands has not garnered many good reviews,
with most dismissing it as an animatronic nonsense wrapped in crude tastelessness.
(11:19):
As I've remarked before, it's notoriously difficult to get ahold of older movie reviews,
most leading to 404 errors as sites delete their content to make room for new data on their servers,
or in the case of this film, released well over a decade before the ubiquity of the internet.
They were probably never digitized to begin with.
I can read small highlights on RT and Metacritic, but that's about as far as it goes.
So thus, I'm going to take Hafladison's word for it alongside the snippets I can see.
(11:43):
TV Guide, for example, said,
Dante gleefully trashes cliches and sentimental Capra-esque notions,
but one should not forget that this movie was given a PG rating and cynically aimed to draw an audience of small children
who would no doubt be terrorized by this myth-shattering film.
And there may be some validity to this, and we'll come back around to some of this in cultural context.
But for now, I will concede that, you know, even though I've been harsh on the over-cautiousness of sites like Common Sense Media,
(12:08):
I can see how many would hesitate to say this is a completely family-friendly film.
It's not so much language, as aside from the
GOSMINE DE VINE of Futterman, there's very little else.
However, there is some pretty graphic violence in this.
True that most of it is done by the Gremlins themselves, and most of it by Lynn Pelzer.
She was a one-woman Gremlin wrecking machine there for a moment.
(12:29):
But those moments are mostly cartoony and over-the-top.
Not to mention, you know, the Gremlins have a lime-green shade of blood.
Still, there are some scenes that push the envelope, and Stripe's face-melting death scene, for instance,
like Raiders of the Arks' face-melting death scene, could give children nightmares.
Funny, my mother didn't bat an eyelash at any of that,
solely worrying about the whole, oh, Simon Vines thing.
Oh, and not for nothing, but at one moment, Phoebe Cate's character does say,
(12:52):
that was when I found out there was no such thing as Santa Claus.
And it would really suck for a child to have that transformative, monumental step in their lives
come about because of a single line in a film.
But like I said, I was six, and fully convinced that right jolly old elf
brought me the shiny trinkets and goo gauze beneath the Christmas tree each year.
I left with my faith unshaken. I don't think I even heard her say that.
You know, six-year-olds miss a lot that goes on in a film.
(13:15):
And I didn't bat an eyelash at the violence either.
I mean, four years later, I was illicitly watching Die Hard unbeknown to my sheltering mother.
And I'm pretty sure that had a lot more violence and a whole lot more go snagging Vines in it.
Looking at the popcorn meter, the users seem only slightly less enamored, dropping it to 78%.
Scanning some of the negative reviews, they don't provide much detail as to why they give it a 1 or 0.5 star take.
(13:36):
One anonymous reviewer eloquently states, and I won't scream,
this movie is a total nightmare and this movie should go to hell.
I don't want to talk about this, but I hated the movie. This movie sucks.
Not only is the caps lock on that whole time, but you should see the amount of exclamation points.
See, 11 of them.
Like I tell my students, those little pieces of punctuation are powerful.
Seldom use them. And if you do, one will suffice.
(13:58):
Like when you're saying, cost me a fine!
Metacritic users also seem to be generally favorable, ranking it a 7.3.
Due to the difficulty of finding a review from 1984, I'll go with the one I can always rely on.
Good ol' Roger Ebert. He surprisingly gives it a 3 out of 4 stars.
His opening paragraph is as usual, pure gold.
Gremlins is a confrontation between Norman Rockwell's vision of Christmas
(14:19):
and Hollywood's vision of the blood-sucking monkeys of Voodoo Island.
It's fun. On the one hand, you have an idyllic American small town
with Burger Kings and Sears stores clustered merrily around the village square.
And on the other hand, you have a plague of reprehensible little beasties
who behave like a rodent road company of Marlon Brando's motorcycle gang in The Wild Ones.
Ah, Mr. Ebert, sir. How you are missed.
(14:40):
The way he makes comparisons and turns a phrase, it's almost unparalleled.
If only he and Pauline Kael could beam down reviews of today's spade of films
from that great movie theater in the sky.
Given his encyclopedic knowledge of cinematic history, it's no wonder Ebert liked the film,
because it's rife with allusions to the celluloid that has come before it.
Apparently this film was also garnering comparison with E.T., which makes sense on a surface level.
(15:02):
Another Spielberg vehicle, both using puppets, animatronics, and practical effects.
Not that there were a whole lot of special effects back then.
But that's about where the comparison ends. Both Ebert and I agree with that point.
Hey, I agree with Ebert on something. That should shock precisely no one.
He writes, this isn't a retread of E.T., the extraterrestrial, but comes from an older tradition,
the fairy tale or magic story. And I was getting the same vibe.
(15:25):
There's certainly a problematic othering of the Chinatown and the pipe-smoking wisdom spewing shop owner,
simply credited as grandfather. Don't worry, we'll talk about that in a moment.
There are clear lines drawn between good and evil, and there's a very obvious prepackaged moral to the story.
If done wrong, this could come off as ham-handed or clunky.
However, the overall tone of the film seems to lean into just the right amount.
(15:47):
It's a fairy tale for sure. Just one that features critters who are the bastard love child of Jim Henson's Muppets
and a rabid Gila monster.
Continuing, Ebert writes, this movie exploits every trick in the monster movie book.
We have scenes where the monster pops up in the foreground, others where they stalk us in the background,
and others where they drop into frame and scare the chanola out of everybody.
And the movie itself turns nasty, especially in a scene involving a monster that gets slammed in a microwave oven,
(16:13):
and another where a wide-eyed teenage girl, Phoebe Gates, explains why she hates Christmas.
Her story is in the great tradition of 1950s sick jokes, and as for the microwave scene,
I had a queasy feeling that before long we'd be reading newspaper stories about kids who went home
and tried the same thing with a family cat.
Okay, there are many elements of this film that come straight from the genre of horror,
a genre that was certainly flourishing at the time with varying levels of quality.
(16:35):
Director Joe Dante comes straight out of the Roger Corman School of Filmmaking,
which would include sleazy Exploitation Fair, but also plenty of horror films.
In fact, Dante had already directed a segment of the ill-fated Twilight Zone movie,
The Howling, which is one of the better offerings for werewolf films, even if it has no ginger snaps,
and my personal favorite, Piranha.
He has horror chops, knowing when to use the jump scare, how to maximize the audio stingers,
(16:58):
how to frame a scene with low-light and cool-tone color grading, all to maximize the shivers.
As for the fear of someone microwaving the family pet, come on Ebert.
If you're not careful, you'll start some urban legend, you know, like one about a guy who dresses like Santa Claus
and tries to come down the chimney to surprise his family only to get stuck.
Yeah, let's talk about that scene. It really did feel out of place and jarring, didn't it?
(17:19):
For those not aware, Kate hates Christmas, and unlike Mrs. Deagle, who is the stock Scrooge character,
the audience otherwise likes, if not loves, the love interest slash heroin.
As I said, the line between good and evil is so deliberately drawn in this film,
and Kate is unequivocally on the side of righteousness.
She works for free to help Dory's tavern open, she creates petitions for the same reason,
she cares about the little guys that folks like Gerald and Mrs. Deagle dismiss.
(17:43):
She should practically have a beatific halo above her, with perhaps the only pure character in the film being Gizmo,
and even that's debatable.
So how can she hate Christmas and not have a moment where the music swells and the Christmas spirit
bursts from her faster and more forcefully than a four-day-old enchilada?
Well, as she explains to Billy, her father was that Santa who got stuck in the chimney.
And yes, this is also the speech where she potentially ruins the Christmas innocence
(18:05):
of any Santa believers who have the ill fortune of watching.
And if you feel confused as to whether or not this scene is to be played for humor,
well, Ebert wasn't wrong.
The absurdity of it all is meant to be funny, though maybe not a ha-ha.
More like bitter irony.
That sort of humor has since fallen out of fashion, and maybe it should,
but it's not unlike a grand tradition.
I mean, that Sophocles fellow you may have heard of wrote a long, long time ago.
(18:28):
And well, if you don't know how Oedipus wound up in a twist of fate so convoluted and ironic
that it's almost but not really funny, then you're just going to have to read that one on your own.
Still, it is so common in a film like this for a Christmas-hating character to have a change of heart,
literally, for instance, with a Grinch.
But Kate isn't given that.
And why should she be?
It's going to take years or decades of therapy just to get her to be able to live with a tragedy like that,
(18:50):
and she'll never get over it.
The scene feels out of place, though knowing Dante, it starts to make more sense.
As a matter of fact, the producers wanted that scene cut, and he refused.
Not until Spielberg himself stepped in and he let it remain in the final cut,
but even he thought it should go.
The only reason Spielberg fought to keep it incidental is because he respected Dante's vision
and didn't want to interfere with the direction.
And good on you, sir.
Even if I, too, think the film might work better without it.
(19:13):
In a 2015 interview with Film Comments, Dante said of that scene,
The tone of the movie is summed up in that speech.
She's telling a story that's completely ridiculous.
However, if it actually happened to you, it would be horrible.
It's like the guy falling on a banana peel.
It's funny if you're across the street, but not funny if you break your back.
I like the complexity of it.
Let's give this plot point to Phoebe's character, Kate,
(19:35):
because she doesn't have much stuff going on except being the heroine.
And this gives her a secret.
The audience has to find out what it is.
She doesn't like Christmas. Well, why not?
And now we find out why. That's a better character arc for her.
And she did it beautifully.
Is the film supposed to be funny or horrifying?
We think the same of Kate's backstory.
And now that I hear Dante explain that, I get how it works in context with the film.
(19:56):
I even think it's kind of clever.
But at the same time, I've seen this film at least half a dozen times,
and that has always been the proverbial sore thumb.
Considering most casual moviegoers only see the film once, maybe twice in a lifetime,
having to scour the internet for an explanation might mean it just didn't work.
I mean, Zack Snyder might disagree with me, but I disagree with him on a lot as well,
starting with whether or not his films are anything other than a steaming pile of dog turds.
(20:19):
But I digress.
Back to Ebert.
He concludes by saying,
At the level of serious film criticism, it's a meditation on the myths in our movies.
Christmas families, monsters, retail stores, movie boogie men.
At the level of pop movie going, it's a sophisticated witty B-movie,
in which the monsters are devouring not only the defenseless in town,
but the decades of defenseless cliches.
But don't go if you still believe in Santa Claus.
(20:42):
As I have been known to do, why don't I use that closing to segue us into my take?
I like what Ebert is picking up on here.
For starters, the homages to classical Hollywood.
Grimlands is rife with allusions and references to other well-known movies.
If you aren't picking up on the It's a Wonderful Life vibes of the small town charm and the bank foreclosures,
then were you even paying attention?
(21:04):
Likewise, Mrs. Deagle is so obviously the Wicked Witch.
She might as well have a green face.
Not only does she channel Margaret Hamilton in her performance,
she flat out paraphrases the I'll get you my pretty in your little dog too line to Billy.
When she is ejected out the window by the gremlin tampered stairlift,
the camera focuses on her landing, particularly her legs and slippers,
in a way that deliberately reminds us of Dorothy's house landing on the other Wicked Witch.
(21:27):
Yet as much as she's a Wicked Witch in the merry old land of Oz, she's also Ebenezer Scrooge.
She has no compunction about foreclosing on a house of a hardworking, struggling family.
Even during the Christmas season.
In typical Reagan-esque 80s fashion, she's driven solely by profit.
An unremitted devotee to Randian objectivism.
The social Darwinistic callousness that would leave a family homeless if it helped further her line or already fat pocketbook.
(21:51):
All this sets her up to receive a change of heart if this film were the most moderate of criticisms.
Dr. Seuss of course let the Grinch have her redemption arc in the same fashion that Dickens allowed Scrooge.
Or at the very least, she must receive her co-mumpence, which she totally does.
I doubt even the most soft-hearted or humanitarian among us got too bent out of shape when she's launched out the second floor window.
The problem is it's so abrupt, so quick and final that it feels rushed.
(22:15):
There needs to be more of an emotional payoff.
Think of Judge Doom and Who Framed Roger Rabbit.
How he meets a similar fate.
Ridiculous, but there's a more climactic exit.
This may however touch on other points that Ebert makes.
That this is a film that interrogates a lot of cinematic cliches, especially in reference to the Christmas film.
Not only do we hurriedly watch Miss Deagle's hilarious exit, pun intended,
(22:36):
but the film also doesn't give Kate some miraculous characterization-divining change of heart on the season.
Now some may feel cheated by this, but I found it refreshing.
That one bothered me much less than the hasty dispatch of the film's true villain.
Speaking of subverting tropes and villains, am I the only one that thinks the gremlins are kind of cute too?
Not mogwai cute, mind you, but still kind of adorable.
I mean they're undoubtedly destructive and violent, but they're also mischievous and absurdly funny.
(23:01):
They sing, dress up, play poker, and wreak havoc in ways that feel more like a twisted carnival than pure evil.
They're a chaotic force rather than a traditional malevolent threat.
Sure, they're also a bit murderous, but that's not their primary motivation.
It seems like they just want to have fun first and foremost.
And if our villains aren't typical, neither is our hero.
(23:22):
Billy is often clueless, bungling his way through the film, making mistakes, sometimes, oftentimes really, having to rely on Gizmo or Kate to bail him out.
And speaking of Kate, she refreshingly subverts the damsel in distress archetype beautifully.
She might initially appear to be the stereotypical love interest in need of saving, but she holds her own.
From handling the chaos at Dory's tavern to being a voice of reason,
(23:43):
she's far more capable and self-reliant than the average character stuck in this role, particularly in the early 80s.
I mean, sure, we got a few of those final girls that Carol J. Clover mentions already.
Laurie Strode from Halloween, Sally Hardesty from the Texas Chainsaw Massacre, Jess Bradford from Black Christmas, of course.
But while this film flirts with and perhaps on occasion leans over into the line of horror, I don't know that it's fair to stick that label on it.
(24:05):
And if only Randy Meeks were around to ask his opinion.
The one trope that does not subvert is one that also feels a bit uncomfortable.
In his summary of the plot, Ebert mentions, quote, The opening scene involves a visit to your basic mysterious little shop in Chinatown,
where, as we all know, the ordinary rules of the visible universe cease to operate and magic is a reality.
And while this does play into the fairy tale-esque nature of the film, the portrayal of the Asian character is questionable at best.
(24:31):
As I was watching, I jotted a single word on the line of my notebook. Orientalism?
Now, I know that term sounds offensive, but it's actually an academic theory that's off-sided.
It was coined by Edward Said. It's the idea that Western cultures have historically created and spread a stereotyped and distorted image of the East.
We'll put that in air quotes. Matter of fact, I'm going to put a lot of these things in air quotes.
(24:53):
Places like the Middle East, Asia, North Africa. These depictions often portray Eastern societies as exotic, backwards, uncivilized, dangerous,
contrasting them with the supposedly modern, rational, and superior West.
Said argued that these stereotypes aren't just innocent misunderstandings, but rather are a part of a broader system of power,
where the West uses these ideas to justify political, economic, and cultural dominance over the East.
(25:16):
It's one way the West has written the story about, again, air quotes, the Orient, to make itself look better and more powerful while making Eastern cultures seem lesser.
Gremlins is ripe for a reading through the lens of Edward Said's Orientalism.
At its core, Gremlins exoticizes the East, using it as a backdrop to introduce something mysterious, dangerous, and ultimately uncontrollable to a Western context.
(25:37):
The film opens with Randall Peltzer entering Chinatown, a space depicted as shadowy, otherworldly, deliberately foreign.
The shop where Gizmo is purchased is crammed with strange artifacts, dimly lit, overseen by the enigmatic grandfather, who epitomizes the mystical Asian archetype, or perhaps more accurately, stereotype.
Though wise, he is also cryptic, speaking in fortune cookie style aphorisms, delivering a warning that is, of course, ignored.
(26:02):
This setup fits Said's idea of Orientalism perfectly.
The East is presented as a place of mystery and danger, existing primarily to fulfill the needs of the Western protagonist's story.
The Mogwai themselves symbolize the Other, initially cute and desirable, but ultimately a misunderstood and feared force that wreaks havoc when not properly controlled by Western hands.
The rules for caring for Gizmo, don't expose him to sunlight, don't get him wet, and don't feed him after midnight, are arbitrary and obscure, reinforcing the idea that Eastern culture and its creations are strange, incomprehensible, and risky.
(26:33):
The film also reflects how Orientalism often uses the East as a way to critique the West.
The Gremlins serve as a metaphor for Western consumerism and greed spiraling out of control, but the blame for this chaos is subtly shifted back to the East.
Gizmo the exotic artifact and the disregarded warnings of the mystical Asian shopkeeper that set everything in motion.
Even the name Gremlin ties back to a Western wartime myth about foreign sabotage, a mythos that Mr. Futterman in his drunken rant explains during a pivotal scene in the movie, and we all know how he feels about anything foreign.
(27:04):
Strong enough to use GOSIME VINE.
I honestly wondered if Said had written anything about this film. After all Gremlins came out, what, barely over half a decade after the seminal book Orientalism was published.
I couldn't find anything, though admittedly I did only use Google and didn't take the time to do a thorough search in the library.
What I did find was a conversation in Jezebel that I think is enlightening.
(27:25):
This part of the film does make me uncomfortable, though it's not really enough for me to bury it completely.
And of course if you feel differently, then certainly avoid it.
As I'm not Asian though, I don't feel I have the authority to speak on this, so I'm going to instead quote the opinion of Megan Reynolds, author of the Jezebel piece on this.
She says quote, In my notes I scrawled something about Orientalism, Edward Said, the exotification of the East.
(27:48):
Yeah, Gizmo's real dad is a bad cartoon come to life, as is his shop of ancient Asian things.
So did I, Ms. Reynolds. Great minds, am I right?
Anyway, she continues, the whole ancient Chinese mystic bull, I won't finish that, is definitely racist.
But I feel like a bad half Asian person for being only mildly upset about it.
It was racist to the point of being laughable.
(28:10):
Also, in the end, Americans were the stupid ones, and Mr. Gizmo, and here I assume she means the character given the title grandfather,
shuffled off back to his opium den with quiet knowledge that he was right and everyone else was wrong.
And I should also point out there that in case it doesn't come across, the opium den quip is purely satirical and sarcastic.
And again, I stress here, I am not endorsing Reynolds' view, nor am I disagreeing.
(28:34):
I'm simply offering a point of view from a person far more qualified to speak on the subject than I, and I'll leave it open to the listener to make their choice.
Ultimately, I think this discussion highlights how media from past decades can be a mix of nostalgia and discomfort.
It's okay to love a film while also recognizing its flaws, and it's important to engage with those flaws thoughtfully.
For me, this is one of those moments where I appreciate the film's creativity while acknowledging the problematic stereotypes it leans on.
(28:57):
And with that, let's shift to a less heavy topic.
We do need to address the fact that there are a lot of incongruities in this film.
Plot threads are left dangling like gizmo from the dartboard.
It's patently obvious that the film was sliced and diced like a gremlin in a peltzer-invented blender.
Reportedly, the original screenplay sought to be a traditional horror, dark and violent.
Billy's mother was going to be zonked out on Valium all the time.
(29:20):
Oh, and she dies in that sequence.
The dog Barney? No, we're not going to talk about that.
The scene where Mrs. Deagle strings him up from the Christmas lights is hard enough to watch, and the good boy comes away there with nothing harm but his dignity.
Rewrite after rewrite after rewrite eventually led the screenwriters to realize the absurd premise was going to have to tread more comedic in tone.
Incidentally, that screenwriter, Chris Columbus, also wrote classics like The Goonies and directed others such as Home Alone and the first two Harry Potter films.
(29:46):
He was also concerned that the film was going to net an R rating, and it was going to understandably be hard to have a hit with a tongue-in-cheek film about murderous scamps portrayed by puppets.
Spielberg and company understood keeping this PG and bringing it to the younger demographics was key to its success.
As you might expect then, with all the cobbling and cutting, we sacrifice some narrative and leave a few plot holes.
Remember Judge Reinhold's character Gerald? You'd be excused if you didn't.
(30:09):
In the epitome of a social climbing, wealth hoarding yuppie of the 80s, he comes in, he's a total D bag to Billy in one scene, and poof, disappears.
There are deleted scenes though that show him getting his comeuppance as well.
There's a lot more on the plot with Mrs. Deagle. We find out she's pressuring the bank to foreclose on many of the houses and properties in Kingston Falls, not just Dory's tavern, but even both Billy and Kate's houses.
(30:30):
She in turn is snatching up all the properties cheaply in order to sell them to high tox chemicals. Not very subtle there either, is it?
Thus her motivation becomes more clear and believe it or not, she becomes even more villainous.
There's a great scene where Deagle is in the bank giving Kate a hard time and Billy gives Mrs. Deagle a quote unquote Christmas present, which is a broom.
When she asks what she's supposed to do with the broom, he replies, I thought you might need a ride home.
(30:55):
It's almost like they were really trying to make her the Wicked Witch. I think some smart observer already stated that.
The film does suffer from this. Watching the deleted scenes will deepen your understanding and I encourage everyone of you to do it.
Those who aren't old fashioned like me and have the DVD, you can still find them on YouTube.
That said, just as I shouldn't have to seek out an interview with Joe Dante to understand how Kate's grim speech fits into the film thematically, I shouldn't have to watch deleted scenes to fill in gaps in continuity.
(31:21):
I honestly don't understand why we haven't gotten a director's cut. Surely with its cult following that would sell a few DVDs.
I mean, I know one fellow who would immediately preorder something like that faster than a mogwai grabbing a midnight snack.
But I have rambled for a while now. There's still so much more I can say. I mean, honestly, I could yapp till Christmas. OK, granted only two days away, but still.
Let's move into the standout performance. And this one is tough. The acting is just not good.
(31:47):
As Billy, Zach Galligan delivers a performance that is less subdued and more laconic.
It's even more obvious because most everyone around him is chewing on the scenery. Phoebe Cates runs around speaking in that artificial lilt like they did in old Hollywood.
There are some truly over the top performances. Mrs.
Deagle, incidentally, the Scrooge surrogate is ironically named Polly Holliday and Scott Brady as Sheriff Frank are the worst offenders.
(32:11):
But it's really the whole cast. And I'm not even sure I should say worst offenders because I think they were specifically directed to act in this manner, which would make sense.
You know, if the filmmakers finally conceded they were making something that is just pure camp, then the performances suddenly make sense.
And I guess technically deliberately acting poorly constitutes good acting, but I'm just loathe to give it to any of those.
So why don't we just give it to the most adorable performance? And I'm sorry, Barney.
(32:34):
Almost every time that would mean the canine performer. But you get outcuted by Gizmo, voiced by Howie Mandel.
To be fair, if you listen to Mandel talk, he sounds nothing like that. So he's doing some vocal gymnastics to hit those high pitched, endearing squeals.
But at the end of the day, Gremlins isn't a movie you watch for nuanced performances. It's about the chaos, the comedy and the camp.
And in that regard, everyone from Mandel's Gizmo to Holly's Deagle plays their part in keeping the madness both fun and memorable.
(32:58):
For cultural context, there are two points I want to make here. First, as I already mentioned, this film has a PG rating.
But almost all the violence is cartoonish. I've already conceded it could be a little rough for younger viewers.
And this seemed to be a theme for Spielberg, who not only produced this film, but also, of course, a very little known film about a bloodthirsty shark back in 1975.
(33:19):
It's obscure. You probably never heard of it. Jaws, something like that.
But in all seriousness, we've all seen that one. Heck, it's my favorite film of all time.
I've seen it more than Die Hard, Wonder Boys and Scream combined.
Yet every time Hooper is diving and Ben Gardner's head comes floating up, I still almost pee myself.
Imagine seeing that as a grade schooler. Yet Jaws is PG as well.
(33:40):
Essentially anything that didn't really feel R but wasn't 100% family friendly, maybe there was some cursing, violence, sexual situations, even the briefest of nudity, it got slapped with a PG rating.
Jaws was often cited, as was Raiders of the Lost Ark and The Temple of Doom, and Gremlins is right in the middle of this debate as well.
Of course, there were plenty of other inappropriate PG films, but it does seem like Spielberg's name is attached to a lot.
(34:02):
And Spielberg, to be fair, was one of the loudest advocates for an intermediary rating between the PG and R.
And by this point he was one of the most powerful names in Hollywood, so the MPAA heard him and acted.
Just a month after Gremlins hit theater, Red Dawn became the first film to be released with a PG-13 rating.
And I say released because technically The Flamingo Kid was the first film to receive that rating, but Red Dawn came out before that stinker.
(34:24):
Seriously, the only thing interesting about that film is seeing Marisa Tomei in her first ever credited role.
Not that Red Dawn is a cinematic tour de force either.
But true to the discussion at hand, I did see Red Dawn on video at my uncle's house.
Gremlins didn't wig me out too much, but at least for a year after seeing Red Dawn, every time I saw a plane in the air, I tensed a little, wondering if it was the Russians finally making their move.
(34:45):
It was, however, fortunate for Gremlins to be ahead of the PG-13 curve.
I already mentioned the insistence that the film not get an R rating.
It wasn't only thinking about box office.
Not that it's all that different today, but those days of my youth saw a trend begin.
I've already spoken about the concept of cross-merchandising and selling everything from toys to cereal in concert with the film's release.
That would be my episode on Van Helsing if you're really curious to go back and listen.
(35:08):
The Saturday mornings of my youth filled with cartoons like G.I. Joe, Transformers, and He-Man.
They were really just half-hour toy commercials interrupted by actual toy commercials.
With an adorable little furball like Gizmo, there was no way the toy market wasn't champing at the bit to mass produce items.
I mean, I had a plush Gizmo, a substitute for a teddy bear, who many nights was tucked under my arm as I drifted to sleep.
(35:29):
And I also recall having a striped action figure, or maybe doll is the right word.
I think it was like 18 inches tall. Not quite life-size, but it was a pretty good size.
What really drove my parents crazy, I'm sure though, but fueled my obsession so much more that four decades later I recall it with vivid detail, was the Hardee's promotion.
As a bookish sort even back then, it was tailor-made for me.
(35:50):
Hardee's, but by the way, if you live in certain areas, Hardee's is Carl's Jr., but for the eastern side of the country instead.
Hardee's had this series of six illustrated books that told the story of the film, and they released one each week.
Which meant for a month and a half, my poor parents had to eat at least one Hardee's and peel.
To be fair, their burgers are almost edible. They're certainly better than the average fast food abomination.
(36:12):
And I can also tell you that the first of those six books was titled The Gift of the Mogwai.
I think I know that so vividly because in middle school we read O'Henry's famous story, of course, The Gift of the Magi.
And I suddenly realized the illusion that it soared right over my six-year-old skull.
There's an irony, of course, that a film like this, that both explicitly and implicitly critiques consumerism and rampant greed, simultaneously creates a tidal wave of products and promotions aimed squarely at children.
(36:37):
I'm a living example of how effective that strategy was.
Chasing books at Hardee's, clutching gizmo plush, and pestering my parents for a striped doll.
Yet that duality is part of what makes Gremlins so fascinating to revisit as an adult.
It critiques the very machine it feeds. It balances sharp social commentary with a knowing link in its audience.
And maybe that's the film's greatest trick. Not its critique of consumerism, but how it makes us willing participants in the very spectacle that it skewers.
(37:02):
All right, we're moving on to trivia. I'm running long.
So, and plus I've already peppered a little bit of trivia here and there throughout.
So I'm just going to toss out a couple of points I find interesting.
So Randall Pelzer is played by Hoyt Axton, who's also a musician and a songwriter.
Perhaps his most famous composition was Joy to the World, not the famous Christmas Carol, but the song by Three Dog Night.
(37:24):
The original opening lyric, Jeremiah was a prophet, which would be biblically accurate at least.
But the band apparently liked the replacement of Bullfrog better, leading to some of the same baffling thoughts as perhaps a moviegoer hearing Kate spew the story of her death of her father at Christmas does.
I mean, I don't know. The lyrics are absolute dot ism, but kind of cute.
Incidentally, Axton's mother, Mae Axton, wrote Heartbreak Hotel for Elvis Presley, making the two of them the first mother son duo to ever write number one songs.
(37:52):
And with those musical details, let's hop like Jeremiah to the next segment.
Shelfless Endeavors. In this segment, which is new to season two, I offer a snap review of a film not on my DVD shelf, specifically ones that are in theaters or getting some buzz with streaming.
Last week, I swung by the old cinema to check out Craven the Hunter. I came in with the lowest of expectations.
(38:13):
And if you see it, I recommend you do the same. Not only was I not disappointed, but I was also pleasantly surprised.
Now, don't go thinking this is a good film. It's anything but a good film. However, it's not unwatchable.
And there are some fun scenes and some directorial flourishes that make it more enjoyable than it should be.
I would also caution against going in full blown geek, which being one myself, I say, meaning no offense.
(38:35):
You know, don't insist on comic book accuracy. There's none of that.
Now, what they did with Rhino is an atrocity, so bad that it does detract from the overall enjoyment of the film.
But other changes like to Craven and Calypso, they actually work. Speaking of laughably bad, the CGI just yuck.
It makes you long for the days of practical effects, you know, like gremlins. As for the acting, well, you have Russell Crowe doing a Russian accent.
(39:00):
Not the best. Aaron Taylor Johnson is fine. Mostly here he's there to run around shirtless and dang, is this fellow ripped.
I've talked before about actors who just have a face that is interesting to look at, like Jude Law, but Taylor Johnson is the same way.
It goes beyond handsome. It's just compelling. And then there's Ariana DeBose. Like, holy crap, where did this woman come from?
(39:21):
OK, Hamilton in the West Side Story remake, but I've seen neither one of those. I know, I know.
Still, this is my introduction to her. And may I just say she is one of the brightest spots. I expect big things from this woman in the future.
Knowing that the spidey-less Spider-verse of Sony is ending with this film was a little strange that the ending seemed to set up a potential sequel.
(39:42):
I'm not sure if Disney, Marvel is interested in acquiring the IP, maybe integrating some of them into the MCU.
I mean, as horrible as Morbius was, seeing him, Craven, Venom, Carnage, finally duking it out with Tom Holland's web head.
I mean, I'd shell out some dough to watch that. Oh, and since we're talking about what's appropriate for age groups, make sure you check the rating before you go.
This is not a PG-13 film. It's bloody, crammed with graphic violence, and that may be what makes it so watchable.
(40:09):
The action scenes are for the most part well done, and the pacing is lightning quick. Its 127-minute runtime feels like a half hour.
Honestly, I was kind of hoping for a little more. So ultimately, Craven the Hunter is an odd beast.
It's not a film I'd rush out to see again, but it's not one I regret catching in theaters either.
If you're a fan of comic book fare and you can embrace ridiculousness, or if you just want a couple hours of action-packed mindless fun, it's worth a shot.
(40:33):
Especially with a discount matinee like I took in. And hey, with CGI like that, it'll make you appreciate the Gremlin's puppets all the more.
Alright, we're running way long, so let's get into shelf esteem, get this thing on a shelf, and call it a day.
For those of you new listeners or need a refresher, the way it works is there are five shelves on my DVD Curio, so I use the bartender's model.
(40:54):
The good stuff on the top shelf, the rot gut on the bottom shelf, and then you have second shelf, mid shelf, and fourth shelf in between.
This is really an enigma of a film. It's zany, screwball, sometimes flat out stupid.
The acting is off the rails. The plot is clearly suffering from all the cuts and changes.
It's incredibly mean-spirited and bitter, but it also strangely has heart and tenderness.
(41:17):
I mean, it's fun, it's delightful, it understands what it is and doesn't try to be anything but, kind of knowingly winks back at the camera as it realizes it's in on the joke.
It's pure camp, and that either works beautifully or it fails drastically when it's done.
This film is the former, thankfully. With its violence and darkness, but also its silliness and theatricality, it sometimes reminds me of those two Tim Burton Batman flicks, but on hallucinogens.
(41:39):
Speaking of, is Batman Returns a Christmas film? No, we're not going there. Let's just get Gizmo in his box.
Alright, so I'm calling this one...
Mid Shelf. I saw one at second shelf, and it does somewhat check the second shelf boxes.
Compelling storytelling, distinctive style, yeah, they're there, but they're just too many problems with the narrative and the film in general to put it on second shelf.
(42:07):
But, Middle Shelf? Middle Shelf is reserved for good films that have a few flaws or aren't quite as impactful, but still are enjoyable and worth your time.
Everyone should see this film at least once. If not, straight up, place it in your Christmas rotation.
And I haven't even mentioned that screwball sequel, or the fact that A Gremlin's Three is in the early stages of pre-production.
But I'll leave all that there. I already feel like I've been rambling worse than a drunk Mr. Futterman.
(42:30):
But hey, at least I didn't say, call Samu Fane!
Seeing as how tomorrow's Christmas Eve, and this is a holiday that you're supposed to spend time with family with or something,
so I don't think it's feasible that I'm going to have time to work in another Shelf Christmases-im episode.
Originally I'd wanted to finish with Christmas Vacation. Heck, I even went to a showing of that on the big screen at the Scholls Theater last Friday.
(42:52):
I mean, let's face it, I would have done that either way, but still.
At the point being, I think I'm just going to have to wait until next year to knock out Christmas Vacation as well as my others,
which I think are just Polar Express, Bad Santa, and Black Christmas.
Last episode, however, I did mention discovering the existence of a made-for-TV sequel of Christmas Vacation.
Christmas Vacation 2, Uncle Eddie's Island Adventure.
(43:14):
Well, I bought a digital copy on Amazon, because apparently I'm not only a completionist, but also a masochist.
Again, it's all that French literature I read.
Still, I watched it, and it is bad. I mean, it's so bad. I don't even have the words.
Actually, I do have the words, but they might contain GOSTERDELFING.
Suffice to say, I owe Elf an apology.
Uncle Eddie's Island Adventure may be the worst film I've ever seen, and y'all know I've watched some real stinkers.
(43:40):
Thus, if I suffered this much, you're going to have to as well.
So a day or so after Christmas, look for a special bonus episode covering this rotten made-for-TV sequel.
Since I don't own it, we'll just call it Beside My Shelf.
So look for that lump of coal when you're stocking the day after Christmas.
And if you really want, you can rent or buy the film on Amazon as well.
But you have been warned. It's torturous.
(44:01):
It'd make the Marquis de Sade squeamish. Gosh, I gotta quit with the French literature.
But if you do watch it and want to talk about any point, feel free to shoot me an email at steven at shelfcriticism.com.
That's S-T-E-P-H-E-N.
You can also find the podcast on Facebook at Shelf Criticism.
And don't forget my other podcast, Real Lit, where I'm joined by my colleague, The Extraordinary McKenzie.
(44:22):
You can find that just about anywhere you get your podcast fixed, as well as our official website, reallitpodcast.com, and social media at Real Lit Podcast.
Just remember that's R-E-E-L as in a film reel.
Obviously, we just released our Christmas episode of that as well, as I alluded to at the beginning.
So yeah, whether you think Die Hard's a Christmas film or not, you gotta admit it's a great film.
(44:43):
So come give that a listen. That's a very fun episode. I had a lot of fun with that one.
All right, with that exceptionally long runtime,
I think it's maybe time to say goodbye.
So until next time, DVD aficionados, remember to treat yourself to a little shelf indulgence of your own.
Amelia, sing us home.
(45:13):
Shelf Criticism is an Owls of Palace production.
This podcast is in no way connected with the educational institutions the host is employed by.
The opinions expressed herein are solely those of the host and do not necessarily reflect the views of any other organisation with which he is affiliated.
Most images displayed are public domain.
Images and stills from films, descriptions of scenes and passages from books are used for educational and critical purposes and not for profit and therefore fall under the terms of fair use.
(45:52):
Plays their part in keeping the madness both fun and minimal.
In that regard, I said, Gozniy by Vine.
Christmas carolers.
(00:05):
I hate Christmas carolers.
Screeching voice, no.
Blue snippers.
I warned you, Brant!
I warned you, Brant!
(00:44):
Welcome to Shelf Criticism.
Meet your host, Stephen, a scholar of literature and film by day.
And by night, a cinematic archaeologist with a penchant for everything from art house to popular to outright trash cinema.
Over the past quarter century, Stephen has amassed an eclectic DVD collection,
now occupying five shelves of a Curio cabinet in his living room.
(01:06):
Each week, he bravely selects one of these titles to dissect.
Doing him as he unearths everything from obscure gems to cinematic missteps.
From blockbuster hits to forgotten flops, each film gets the critical once over it probably doesn't deserve but will absolutely receive.
So grab your popcorn and settle in.
It's time to dive into the diverse world of Shelf Criticism.
(01:36):
Welcome and thanks for coming, all ye faithful.
Christmas is just around the corner this week and I suppose I'm about to get as blasted festive as I'm going to get.
My subscribers already know I don't hate this holiday.
Certainly not in the way that Kate does in today's film.
Though to be fair, she has a darn good reason.
But me, I just kinda find it meh.
It's nice to have Christmas breakfast with my family.
(01:57):
Chocolate gravy and biscuits, y'all.
If you aren't from Alabama, you just wouldn't understand.
But it is a culinary delicacy.
I like giving gifts, though I'm much less fond of receiving them.
It's just so awkward, all those eyes on you and even genuine reactions feel kinda forced and scripted.
As I told Mackenzie on her Christmas episode of Real It, forgive the shameless plug, although I'm not apologizing,
there's not a single Christmas song that slaps.
(02:20):
Except Christmas and Hollis by Run DMC.
Everything Run DMC did slaps.
Not for nothing, but I'm still whamless for yet another Christmas.
Just two more days.
Still, I'm plowing right along with Shelf Christmascism.
If you haven't already, check out my earlier December episodes, The Holiday and Elf.
And if either or both of those films are beloved by you, I do apologize in advance.
Also, my other podcast, Real It, the unsurpassable Mackenzie and I tackle the book-film combo
(02:44):
Nothing Lasts Forever and Die Hard.
Oh, and if you don't think Die Hard is a Christmas film, I apologize in advance.
Today's film may also fall into that category of non-traditional Christmas film, but it's undeniably one.
In fact, I think not only does it have an even stronger case than Die Hard,
I don't have much of a problem calling it a traditional Christmas film.
Not only is it set at Christmas time, it literally revolves around a Christmas gift gone wrong.
(03:06):
There are a few naysayers out there like Michael Walsh writing in The Nerdist,
but they're just being contrary or they're too traditionalist.
Don't tell me Christmas films can't have monsters.
The Abominable Snowman and Rudolph the Red-Nosed Frickin' Reindeer?
The fact that this film was released in June means diddly.
I heard that same argument made against Die Hard.
Since I made this argument on Real It not two days ago, I'll give you the Cliff Notes version here.
(03:28):
Christmas in Connecticut, Holiday Inn, and Miracle on 34th Street all had summer releases.
White Christmas came out in October.
Heck, It's a Wonderful Life did get a New York City release on December 20th,
but it didn't get its nationwide premiere until January 7th.
Seriously, come at me, bro. I dare you. I got arguments and logic and facts.
I don't, however, feel as though I need to defend this film,
but at the same time, I don't think I need to defend Die Hard as it's so obvious, but some people.
(03:52):
Either way, there's a whole lot more about this film that I want to talk about.
The nostalgia is strong with me on this one,
and while I did see some flaws when I watched it this time around, viewing with a much more critical eye,
I still loved every campy, zany, frantic second of it.
Today's shelf pick is the 1984 film directed by Joe Dante,
produced by some guy named Steven Spielberg you may have heard of.
So grab a snack, unless it's after midnight, and let's talk gremlins.
(04:16):
So I own the 2002 special release of this film.
On the DVD front, the background is white, with Gizmo standing low left of center,
looking adorable, as he's wont to do.
He is casting an elongated, less than cuddly shadow, however, that of Stripe.
A red border surrounds the entire cover.
At the top, in black letters, we're told, Steven Spielberg presents.
In red letters beneath, we have gremlins, and in blue beneath that, special edition.
(04:41):
In black text on the right-hand side, we're told, what you see,
ellipses, isn't always what you get.
If we look on the DVD back, the cover copy is enclosed in a rectangle,
and Stripe, wearing a pair of sunglasses and his trademark smirk,
sticks his head up on the left-hand side.
Opposite him in red letters, we're told, a hoot, not to be missed,
by David Anson of Newsweek.
(05:02):
This is actually one of the better written cover copies that I've seen.
I don't have any issues with the grammar, at least, which is amazing.
It reads, celebrate one of the funniest movies of all time like never before.
Feed your hunger, but not after midnight, with never-before-seen footage.
Shine a bright light behind the creation of this unforgettable film
with a pair of commentaries that reunite the original cast and crew.
(05:24):
Swim in a pool of brand new extras, including a photo gallery,
a making-of featurette, and a newly remastered soundtrack.
Gremlins is a wildly original rollercoaster ride of hilarious mischief.
One minute your hair will stand on end, and the next you'll hold your sides
with laughter at the havoc these supposedly gentle furballs create
when the rules are broken.
One of the most fondly remembered box office hits of recent time,
and with sly special effects that dazzle and enchant,
(05:47):
Gremlins is, quote, what superior popular moviemaking is all about.
Richard Corliss of Time.
Like I said, zero gripes on that cover copy.
Yeah, it might split hairs for accuracy,
and that the havoc isn't wreaked by the furballs
until they are scaly and reptilian instead of actually furry,
but overall it gets the point across.
We got a bunch of special features.
In all caps, most of them written, like, stop yelling at me, man.
(06:11):
Over ten minutes of never-before-seen footage.
Behind-the-scenes documentary.
Feature-length commentaries.
Number one, with director Joe Dante, Phoebe Cates,
Zach Galligan, Dick Miller, and Howie Mandel.
Where is Howie Mandel, you might ask?
Well, he's actually the voice of Gizmo,
so you got a little trivia early here.
Number two, with director Joe Dante, producer Michael Fennell,
or Fennell, I'm not sure, and special effects artist Chris Wallace.
(06:32):
Photo storyboard gallery.
Cast and crew film highlights.
All-new 2001 digital transfer.
It does look pretty good on the screen.
Soundtrack remastered and presented in both Dolby Digital 5.1
and Dolby Surround 2.0.
And then suddenly the caps lock is turned off for reasons.
Theatrical trailer.
By the way, they have the original 1984 theatrical trailer,
(06:53):
the trailer for the special edition, and the trailer for Gremlins 2.
And then languages and subtitles, English, Francois, and Espanol.
That's the way they're written.
How I Came to Own It.
Like Die Hard that I just discussed,
Gremlins plays a large role in my journey to a cinephile.
My mother likes to tell the story of my first ever moviegoing experience,
The Fox and the Hound.
It tells me the minute the screen came on, my jaw dropped
(07:15):
as I stared in wild amazement at this gigantic TV screen.
I don't recall that, but I do remember going,
despite the fact that this would have been July of 1981, I think,
making me four months shy of being four years old.
Honestly, though, all I really remember was looking back
where the projector was and seeing a little tiny rectangle
and a beam of light stretching all the way to the screen.
That and running around pretending I was a fox for like four months after that.
(07:38):
Oh, and another totally unrelated piece of trivia.
Corey Feldman was the voice of young Copper.
Feldman, of course, also plays Pete in Gremlins.
But long story short, the first film I do remember vividly was Gremlins,
some three years later.
That's why I was six years old here.
And I guess technically it would have also been my sister's
first moviegoing experience, but she was sort of in the womb.
So I don't think that counts.
But the memories run deep.
(08:00):
For starters, my mother, a very pious woman,
cannot weather the dreaded GD word, as we'll call it.
Or actually, the way she says it is,
I'll say my ving.
There's always this disdain that just drips disapproval in her voice
when she says it.
And I get it.
You know, she's very pious.
That's hard for her to weather.
I'm not knocking it.
I just remember her complaining almost immediately
as Murray Futterman's penchant for using this oath
(08:22):
to refer to foreign-made merchandise
is on display in the first very few minutes.
I also remember just wishing she would hush and let me enjoy the film.
And again, this is not to disrespect my mother.
Please don't think I mean that.
I am an unapologetic mama's boy who loves her wholeheartedly.
It's just apparently even at the ripe age of six,
I wasn't going to let objectionable language
or potentially offensive content ruin my viewing experience.
(08:44):
And I think I still feel that way today.
Even if I'm watching something that is going out of its way
to be offensive or tasteless, very little causes me to even blink.
Now, what can I say?
I've read French literature.
Hard to be shocked after tackling the likes of Georges Battal
or Octave Mirbeau.
Anyway, once my mother settled down, I remember a nonstop thrill ride
from gushing over how adorable Gizmo was
or how unique his quote unquote singing voice was
(09:07):
to laughing and cringing all along with the over the top antics of Stripe
and his twisted issue to knowing that I really liked looking at Phoebe Cates,
even if I was too downy eyed innocent to understand yet why.
I liked it.
When I left the theater, I was on an entertainment high,
likely blathering on and on about it the entire car ride home.
Once we got home, even though no major electronic compliances were on the fritz,
(09:30):
I took Mr. Pelsord's advice.
Turn on all the lights, check all the closets and cupboards,
look under all the beds, because you never can tell.
There just might be a gremlin in your house.
My mother found that so hilarious, she still tells that story to this day.
So how the DVD got on my shelf?
I bought it.
What, you were expecting another detailed stroll down the cliched memory lane?
(09:51):
Sorry to disappoint.
This one's just a lot simpler.
As I've mentioned on this podcast before, I worked at Best Buy during this time,
which meant I always knew what new releases and reissues were hitting the shelves.
One week I saw a special edition of gremlins in the sales circular,
and even though I had the day off, that was Tuesday,
back then new DVD releases hit the shelf on that day, I don't know why,
but I made it a point to swing by and grab a copy.
That night I popped in the DVD player and watched it
(10:13):
with the woman I was dating at the time, who had never seen it.
She found it amusing, but I think that's as far as I went for her,
but over the years I've pulled it out for the occasional re-watch.
Not annually, like Die Hard or Christmas Vacation,
but it's a sporadic treat, not a yearly tradition.
And I know that story's anticlimactic.
What can I say? Life isn't as well structured as a movie script.
But speaking of structure, let's see how this film holds up to the critical lens.
(10:35):
Critical Reception. This film holds an 86% on Rotten Tomatoes.
It drops to a 70 on Metacritic.
I do, however, need to inject a caveat here.
So Metacritic is only basing this off 13 reviews.
Rotten Tomatoes, on the other hand, is working off of 81.
However, the overwhelming majority of those reviews are not contemporaneous.
Instead, they look at the DVD releases or simply go off Christmas nostalgia.
(10:56):
It's safe to say the film has at least a cult following,
and it appears to have aged better than its initial reception.
Scrolling down to the earliest of those 81 reviews, one sees a lot less favorability.
In fact, writing for the BBC, Almar Hafladison,
I'm sorry, I hope I pronounced your name right,
remarks, Grimlands has not garnered many good reviews,
with most dismissing it as an animatronic nonsense wrapped in crude tastelessness.
(11:19):
As I've remarked before, it's notoriously difficult to get ahold of older movie reviews,
most leading to 404 errors as sites delete their content to make room for new data on their servers,
or in the case of this film, released well over a decade before the ubiquity of the internet.
They were probably never digitized to begin with.
I can read small highlights on RT and Metacritic, but that's about as far as it goes.
So thus, I'm going to take Hafladison's word for it alongside the snippets I can see.
(11:43):
TV Guide, for example, said,
Dante gleefully trashes cliches and sentimental Capra-esque notions,
but one should not forget that this movie was given a PG rating and cynically aimed to draw an audience of small children
who would no doubt be terrorized by this myth-shattering film.
And there may be some validity to this, and we'll come back around to some of this in cultural context.
But for now, I will concede that, you know, even though I've been harsh on the over-cautiousness of sites like Common Sense Media,
(12:08):
I can see how many would hesitate to say this is a completely family-friendly film.
It's not so much language, as aside from the
GOSMINE DE VINE of Futterman, there's very little else.
However, there is some pretty graphic violence in this.
True that most of it is done by the Gremlins themselves, and most of it by Lynn Pelzer.
She was a one-woman Gremlin wrecking machine there for a moment.
(12:29):
But those moments are mostly cartoony and over-the-top.
Not to mention, you know, the Gremlins have a lime-green shade of blood.
Still, there are some scenes that push the envelope, and Stripe's face-melting death scene, for instance,
like Raiders of the Arks' face-melting death scene, could give children nightmares.
Funny, my mother didn't bat an eyelash at any of that,
solely worrying about the whole, oh, Simon Vines thing.
Oh, and not for nothing, but at one moment, Phoebe Cate's character does say,
(12:52):
that was when I found out there was no such thing as Santa Claus.
And it would really suck for a child to have that transformative, monumental step in their lives
come about because of a single line in a film.
But like I said, I was six, and fully convinced that right jolly old elf
brought me the shiny trinkets and goo gauze beneath the Christmas tree each year.
I left with my faith unshaken. I don't think I even heard her say that.
You know, six-year-olds miss a lot that goes on in a film.
(13:15):
And I didn't bat an eyelash at the violence either.
I mean, four years later, I was illicitly watching Die Hard unbeknown to my sheltering mother.
And I'm pretty sure that had a lot more violence and a whole lot more go snagging Vines in it.
Looking at the popcorn meter, the users seem only slightly less enamored, dropping it to 78%.
Scanning some of the negative reviews, they don't provide much detail as to why they give it a 1 or 0.5 star take.
(13:36):
One anonymous reviewer eloquently states, and I won't scream,
this movie is a total nightmare and this movie should go to hell.
I don't want to talk about this, but I hated the movie. This movie sucks.
Not only is the caps lock on that whole time, but you should see the amount of exclamation points.
See, 11 of them.
Like I tell my students, those little pieces of punctuation are powerful.
Seldom use them. And if you do, one will suffice.
(13:58):
Like when you're saying, cost me a fine!
Metacritic users also seem to be generally favorable, ranking it a 7.3.
Due to the difficulty of finding a review from 1984, I'll go with the one I can always rely on.
Good ol' Roger Ebert. He surprisingly gives it a 3 out of 4 stars.
His opening paragraph is as usual, pure gold.
Gremlins is a confrontation between Norman Rockwell's vision of Christmas
(14:19):
and Hollywood's vision of the blood-sucking monkeys of Voodoo Island.
It's fun. On the one hand, you have an idyllic American small town
with Burger Kings and Sears stores clustered merrily around the village square.
And on the other hand, you have a plague of reprehensible little beasties
who behave like a rodent road company of Marlon Brando's motorcycle gang in The Wild Ones.
Ah, Mr. Ebert, sir. How you are missed.
(14:40):
The way he makes comparisons and turns a phrase, it's almost unparalleled.
If only he and Pauline Kael could beam down reviews of today's spade of films
from that great movie theater in the sky.
Given his encyclopedic knowledge of cinematic history, it's no wonder Ebert liked the film,
because it's rife with allusions to the celluloid that has come before it.
Apparently this film was also garnering comparison with E.T., which makes sense on a surface level.
(15:02):
Another Spielberg vehicle, both using puppets, animatronics, and practical effects.
Not that there were a whole lot of special effects back then.
But that's about where the comparison ends. Both Ebert and I agree with that point.
Hey, I agree with Ebert on something. That should shock precisely no one.
He writes, this isn't a retread of E.T., the extraterrestrial, but comes from an older tradition,
the fairy tale or magic story. And I was getting the same vibe.
(15:25):
There's certainly a problematic othering of the Chinatown and the pipe-smoking wisdom spewing shop owner,
simply credited as grandfather. Don't worry, we'll talk about that in a moment.
There are clear lines drawn between good and evil, and there's a very obvious prepackaged moral to the story.
If done wrong, this could come off as ham-handed or clunky.
However, the overall tone of the film seems to lean into just the right amount.
(15:47):
It's a fairy tale for sure. Just one that features critters who are the bastard love child of Jim Henson's Muppets
and a rabid Gila monster.
Continuing, Ebert writes, this movie exploits every trick in the monster movie book.
We have scenes where the monster pops up in the foreground, others where they stalk us in the background,
and others where they drop into frame and scare the chanola out of everybody.
And the movie itself turns nasty, especially in a scene involving a monster that gets slammed in a microwave oven,
(16:13):
and another where a wide-eyed teenage girl, Phoebe Gates, explains why she hates Christmas.
Her story is in the great tradition of 1950s sick jokes, and as for the microwave scene,
I had a queasy feeling that before long we'd be reading newspaper stories about kids who went home
and tried the same thing with a family cat.
Okay, there are many elements of this film that come straight from the genre of horror,
a genre that was certainly flourishing at the time with varying levels of quality.
(16:35):
Director Joe Dante comes straight out of the Roger Corman School of Filmmaking,
which would include sleazy Exploitation Fair, but also plenty of horror films.
In fact, Dante had already directed a segment of the ill-fated Twilight Zone movie,
The Howling, which is one of the better offerings for werewolf films, even if it has no ginger snaps,
and my personal favorite, Piranha.
He has horror chops, knowing when to use the jump scare, how to maximize the audio stingers,
(16:58):
how to frame a scene with low-light and cool-tone color grading, all to maximize the shivers.
As for the fear of someone microwaving the family pet, come on Ebert.
If you're not careful, you'll start some urban legend, you know, like one about a guy who dresses like Santa Claus
and tries to come down the chimney to surprise his family only to get stuck.
Yeah, let's talk about that scene. It really did feel out of place and jarring, didn't it?
(17:19):
For those not aware, Kate hates Christmas, and unlike Mrs. Deagle, who is the stock Scrooge character,
the audience otherwise likes, if not loves, the love interest slash heroin.
As I said, the line between good and evil is so deliberately drawn in this film,
and Kate is unequivocally on the side of righteousness.
She works for free to help Dory's tavern open, she creates petitions for the same reason,
she cares about the little guys that folks like Gerald and Mrs. Deagle dismiss.
(17:43):
She should practically have a beatific halo above her, with perhaps the only pure character in the film being Gizmo,
and even that's debatable.
So how can she hate Christmas and not have a moment where the music swells and the Christmas spirit
bursts from her faster and more forcefully than a four-day-old enchilada?
Well, as she explains to Billy, her father was that Santa who got stuck in the chimney.
And yes, this is also the speech where she potentially ruins the Christmas innocence
(18:05):
of any Santa believers who have the ill fortune of watching.
And if you feel confused as to whether or not this scene is to be played for humor,
well, Ebert wasn't wrong.
The absurdity of it all is meant to be funny, though maybe not a ha-ha.
More like bitter irony.
That sort of humor has since fallen out of fashion, and maybe it should,
but it's not unlike a grand tradition.
I mean, that Sophocles fellow you may have heard of wrote a long, long time ago.
(18:28):
And well, if you don't know how Oedipus wound up in a twist of fate so convoluted and ironic
that it's almost but not really funny, then you're just going to have to read that one on your own.
Still, it is so common in a film like this for a Christmas-hating character to have a change of heart,
literally, for instance, with a Grinch.
But Kate isn't given that.
And why should she be?
It's going to take years or decades of therapy just to get her to be able to live with a tragedy like that,
(18:50):
and she'll never get over it.
The scene feels out of place, though knowing Dante, it starts to make more sense.
As a matter of fact, the producers wanted that scene cut, and he refused.
Not until Spielberg himself stepped in and he let it remain in the final cut,
but even he thought it should go.
The only reason Spielberg fought to keep it incidental is because he respected Dante's vision
and didn't want to interfere with the direction.
And good on you, sir.
Even if I, too, think the film might work better without it.
(19:13):
In a 2015 interview with Film Comments, Dante said of that scene,
The tone of the movie is summed up in that speech.
She's telling a story that's completely ridiculous.
However, if it actually happened to you, it would be horrible.
It's like the guy falling on a banana peel.
It's funny if you're across the street, but not funny if you break your back.
I like the complexity of it.
Let's give this plot point to Phoebe's character, Kate,
(19:35):
because she doesn't have much stuff going on except being the heroine.
And this gives her a secret.
The audience has to find out what it is.
She doesn't like Christmas. Well, why not?
And now we find out why. That's a better character arc for her.
And she did it beautifully.
Is the film supposed to be funny or horrifying?
We think the same of Kate's backstory.
And now that I hear Dante explain that, I get how it works in context with the film.
(19:56):
I even think it's kind of clever.
But at the same time, I've seen this film at least half a dozen times,
and that has always been the proverbial sore thumb.
Considering most casual moviegoers only see the film once, maybe twice in a lifetime,
having to scour the internet for an explanation might mean it just didn't work.
I mean, Zack Snyder might disagree with me, but I disagree with him on a lot as well,
starting with whether or not his films are anything other than a steaming pile of dog turds.
(20:19):
But I digress.
Back to Ebert.
He concludes by saying,
At the level of serious film criticism, it's a meditation on the myths in our movies.
Christmas families, monsters, retail stores, movie boogie men.
At the level of pop movie going, it's a sophisticated witty B-movie,
in which the monsters are devouring not only the defenseless in town,
but the decades of defenseless cliches.
But don't go if you still believe in Santa Claus.
(20:42):
As I have been known to do, why don't I use that closing to segue us into my take?
I like what Ebert is picking up on here.
For starters, the homages to classical Hollywood.
Grimlands is rife with allusions and references to other well-known movies.
If you aren't picking up on the It's a Wonderful Life vibes of the small town charm and the bank foreclosures,
then were you even paying attention?
(21:04):
Likewise, Mrs. Deagle is so obviously the Wicked Witch.
She might as well have a green face.
Not only does she channel Margaret Hamilton in her performance,
she flat out paraphrases the I'll get you my pretty in your little dog too line to Billy.
When she is ejected out the window by the gremlin tampered stairlift,
the camera focuses on her landing, particularly her legs and slippers,
in a way that deliberately reminds us of Dorothy's house landing on the other Wicked Witch.
(21:27):
Yet as much as she's a Wicked Witch in the merry old land of Oz, she's also Ebenezer Scrooge.
She has no compunction about foreclosing on a house of a hardworking, struggling family.
Even during the Christmas season.
In typical Reagan-esque 80s fashion, she's driven solely by profit.
An unremitted devotee to Randian objectivism.
The social Darwinistic callousness that would leave a family homeless if it helped further her line or already fat pocketbook.
(21:51):
All this sets her up to receive a change of heart if this film were the most moderate of criticisms.
Dr. Seuss of course let the Grinch have her redemption arc in the same fashion that Dickens allowed Scrooge.
Or at the very least, she must receive her co-mumpence, which she totally does.
I doubt even the most soft-hearted or humanitarian among us got too bent out of shape when she's launched out the second floor window.
The problem is it's so abrupt, so quick and final that it feels rushed.
(22:15):
There needs to be more of an emotional payoff.
Think of Judge Doom and Who Framed Roger Rabbit.
How he meets a similar fate.
Ridiculous, but there's a more climactic exit.
This may however touch on other points that Ebert makes.
That this is a film that interrogates a lot of cinematic cliches, especially in reference to the Christmas film.
Not only do we hurriedly watch Miss Deagle's hilarious exit, pun intended,
(22:36):
but the film also doesn't give Kate some miraculous characterization-divining change of heart on the season.
Now some may feel cheated by this, but I found it refreshing.
That one bothered me much less than the hasty dispatch of the film's true villain.
Speaking of subverting tropes and villains, am I the only one that thinks the gremlins are kind of cute too?
Not mogwai cute, mind you, but still kind of adorable.
I mean they're undoubtedly destructive and violent, but they're also mischievous and absurdly funny.
(23:01):
They sing, dress up, play poker, and wreak havoc in ways that feel more like a twisted carnival than pure evil.
They're a chaotic force rather than a traditional malevolent threat.
Sure, they're also a bit murderous, but that's not their primary motivation.
It seems like they just want to have fun first and foremost.
And if our villains aren't typical, neither is our hero.
(23:22):
Billy is often clueless, bungling his way through the film, making mistakes, sometimes, oftentimes really, having to rely on Gizmo or Kate to bail him out.
And speaking of Kate, she refreshingly subverts the damsel in distress archetype beautifully.
She might initially appear to be the stereotypical love interest in need of saving, but she holds her own.
From handling the chaos at Dory's tavern to being a voice of reason,
(23:43):
she's far more capable and self-reliant than the average character stuck in this role, particularly in the early 80s.
I mean, sure, we got a few of those final girls that Carol J. Clover mentions already.
Laurie Strode from Halloween, Sally Hardesty from the Texas Chainsaw Massacre, Jess Bradford from Black Christmas, of course.
But while this film flirts with and perhaps on occasion leans over into the line of horror, I don't know that it's fair to stick that label on it.
(24:05):
And if only Randy Meeks were around to ask his opinion.
The one trope that does not subvert is one that also feels a bit uncomfortable.
In his summary of the plot, Ebert mentions, quote, The opening scene involves a visit to your basic mysterious little shop in Chinatown,
where, as we all know, the ordinary rules of the visible universe cease to operate and magic is a reality.
And while this does play into the fairy tale-esque nature of the film, the portrayal of the Asian character is questionable at best.
(24:31):
As I was watching, I jotted a single word on the line of my notebook. Orientalism?
Now, I know that term sounds offensive, but it's actually an academic theory that's off-sided.
It was coined by Edward Said. It's the idea that Western cultures have historically created and spread a stereotyped and distorted image of the East.
We'll put that in air quotes. Matter of fact, I'm going to put a lot of these things in air quotes.
(24:53):
Places like the Middle East, Asia, North Africa. These depictions often portray Eastern societies as exotic, backwards, uncivilized, dangerous,
contrasting them with the supposedly modern, rational, and superior West.
Said argued that these stereotypes aren't just innocent misunderstandings, but rather are a part of a broader system of power,
where the West uses these ideas to justify political, economic, and cultural dominance over the East.
(25:16):
It's one way the West has written the story about, again, air quotes, the Orient, to make itself look better and more powerful while making Eastern cultures seem lesser.
Gremlins is ripe for a reading through the lens of Edward Said's Orientalism.
At its core, Gremlins exoticizes the East, using it as a backdrop to introduce something mysterious, dangerous, and ultimately uncontrollable to a Western context.
(25:37):
The film opens with Randall Peltzer entering Chinatown, a space depicted as shadowy, otherworldly, deliberately foreign.
The shop where Gizmo is purchased is crammed with strange artifacts, dimly lit, overseen by the enigmatic grandfather, who epitomizes the mystical Asian archetype, or perhaps more accurately, stereotype.
Though wise, he is also cryptic, speaking in fortune cookie style aphorisms, delivering a warning that is, of course, ignored.
(26:02):
This setup fits Said's idea of Orientalism perfectly.
The East is presented as a place of mystery and danger, existing primarily to fulfill the needs of the Western protagonist's story.
The Mogwai themselves symbolize the Other, initially cute and desirable, but ultimately a misunderstood and feared force that wreaks havoc when not properly controlled by Western hands.
The rules for caring for Gizmo, don't expose him to sunlight, don't get him wet, and don't feed him after midnight, are arbitrary and obscure, reinforcing the idea that Eastern culture and its creations are strange, incomprehensible, and risky.
(26:33):
The film also reflects how Orientalism often uses the East as a way to critique the West.
The Gremlins serve as a metaphor for Western consumerism and greed spiraling out of control, but the blame for this chaos is subtly shifted back to the East.
Gizmo the exotic artifact and the disregarded warnings of the mystical Asian shopkeeper that set everything in motion.
Even the name Gremlin ties back to a Western wartime myth about foreign sabotage, a mythos that Mr. Futterman in his drunken rant explains during a pivotal scene in the movie, and we all know how he feels about anything foreign.
(27:04):
Strong enough to use GOSIME VINE.
I honestly wondered if Said had written anything about this film. After all Gremlins came out, what, barely over half a decade after the seminal book Orientalism was published.
I couldn't find anything, though admittedly I did only use Google and didn't take the time to do a thorough search in the library.
What I did find was a conversation in Jezebel that I think is enlightening.
(27:25):
This part of the film does make me uncomfortable, though it's not really enough for me to bury it completely.
And of course if you feel differently, then certainly avoid it.
As I'm not Asian though, I don't feel I have the authority to speak on this, so I'm going to instead quote the opinion of Megan Reynolds, author of the Jezebel piece on this.
She says quote, In my notes I scrawled something about Orientalism, Edward Said, the exotification of the East.
(27:48):
Yeah, Gizmo's real dad is a bad cartoon come to life, as is his shop of ancient Asian things.
So did I, Ms. Reynolds. Great minds, am I right?
Anyway, she continues, the whole ancient Chinese mystic bull, I won't finish that, is definitely racist.
But I feel like a bad half Asian person for being only mildly upset about it.
It was racist to the point of being laughable.
(28:10):
Also, in the end, Americans were the stupid ones, and Mr. Gizmo, and here I assume she means the character given the title grandfather,
shuffled off back to his opium den with quiet knowledge that he was right and everyone else was wrong.
And I should also point out there that in case it doesn't come across, the opium den quip is purely satirical and sarcastic.
And again, I stress here, I am not endorsing Reynolds' view, nor am I disagreeing.
(28:34):
I'm simply offering a point of view from a person far more qualified to speak on the subject than I, and I'll leave it open to the listener to make their choice.
Ultimately, I think this discussion highlights how media from past decades can be a mix of nostalgia and discomfort.
It's okay to love a film while also recognizing its flaws, and it's important to engage with those flaws thoughtfully.
For me, this is one of those moments where I appreciate the film's creativity while acknowledging the problematic stereotypes it leans on.
(28:57):
And with that, let's shift to a less heavy topic.
We do need to address the fact that there are a lot of incongruities in this film.
Plot threads are left dangling like gizmo from the dartboard.
It's patently obvious that the film was sliced and diced like a gremlin in a peltzer-invented blender.
Reportedly, the original screenplay sought to be a traditional horror, dark and violent.
Billy's mother was going to be zonked out on Valium all the time.
(29:20):
Oh, and she dies in that sequence.
The dog Barney? No, we're not going to talk about that.
The scene where Mrs. Deagle strings him up from the Christmas lights is hard enough to watch, and the good boy comes away there with nothing harm but his dignity.
Rewrite after rewrite after rewrite eventually led the screenwriters to realize the absurd premise was going to have to tread more comedic in tone.
Incidentally, that screenwriter, Chris Columbus, also wrote classics like The Goonies and directed others such as Home Alone and the first two Harry Potter films.
(29:46):
He was also concerned that the film was going to net an R rating, and it was going to understandably be hard to have a hit with a tongue-in-cheek film about murderous scamps portrayed by puppets.
Spielberg and company understood keeping this PG and bringing it to the younger demographics was key to its success.
As you might expect then, with all the cobbling and cutting, we sacrifice some narrative and leave a few plot holes.
Remember Judge Reinhold's character Gerald? You'd be excused if you didn't.
(30:09):
In the epitome of a social climbing, wealth hoarding yuppie of the 80s, he comes in, he's a total D bag to Billy in one scene, and poof, disappears.
There are deleted scenes though that show him getting his comeuppance as well.
There's a lot more on the plot with Mrs. Deagle. We find out she's pressuring the bank to foreclose on many of the houses and properties in Kingston Falls, not just Dory's tavern, but even both Billy and Kate's houses.
(30:30):
She in turn is snatching up all the properties cheaply in order to sell them to high tox chemicals. Not very subtle there either, is it?
Thus her motivation becomes more clear and believe it or not, she becomes even more villainous.
There's a great scene where Deagle is in the bank giving Kate a hard time and Billy gives Mrs. Deagle a quote unquote Christmas present, which is a broom.
When she asks what she's supposed to do with the broom, he replies, I thought you might need a ride home.
(30:55):
It's almost like they were really trying to make her the Wicked Witch. I think some smart observer already stated that.
The film does suffer from this. Watching the deleted scenes will deepen your understanding and I encourage everyone of you to do it.
Those who aren't old fashioned like me and have the DVD, you can still find them on YouTube.
That said, just as I shouldn't have to seek out an interview with Joe Dante to understand how Kate's grim speech fits into the film thematically, I shouldn't have to watch deleted scenes to fill in gaps in continuity.
(31:21):
I honestly don't understand why we haven't gotten a director's cut. Surely with its cult following that would sell a few DVDs.
I mean, I know one fellow who would immediately preorder something like that faster than a mogwai grabbing a midnight snack.
But I have rambled for a while now. There's still so much more I can say. I mean, honestly, I could yapp till Christmas. OK, granted only two days away, but still.
Let's move into the standout performance. And this one is tough. The acting is just not good.
(31:47):
As Billy, Zach Galligan delivers a performance that is less subdued and more laconic.
It's even more obvious because most everyone around him is chewing on the scenery. Phoebe Cates runs around speaking in that artificial lilt like they did in old Hollywood.
There are some truly over the top performances. Mrs.
Deagle, incidentally, the Scrooge surrogate is ironically named Polly Holliday and Scott Brady as Sheriff Frank are the worst offenders.
(32:11):
But it's really the whole cast. And I'm not even sure I should say worst offenders because I think they were specifically directed to act in this manner, which would make sense.
You know, if the filmmakers finally conceded they were making something that is just pure camp, then the performances suddenly make sense.
And I guess technically deliberately acting poorly constitutes good acting, but I'm just loathe to give it to any of those.
So why don't we just give it to the most adorable performance? And I'm sorry, Barney.
(32:34):
Almost every time that would mean the canine performer. But you get outcuted by Gizmo, voiced by Howie Mandel.
To be fair, if you listen to Mandel talk, he sounds nothing like that. So he's doing some vocal gymnastics to hit those high pitched, endearing squeals.
But at the end of the day, Gremlins isn't a movie you watch for nuanced performances. It's about the chaos, the comedy and the camp.
And in that regard, everyone from Mandel's Gizmo to Holly's Deagle plays their part in keeping the madness both fun and memorable.
(32:58):
For cultural context, there are two points I want to make here. First, as I already mentioned, this film has a PG rating.
But almost all the violence is cartoonish. I've already conceded it could be a little rough for younger viewers.
And this seemed to be a theme for Spielberg, who not only produced this film, but also, of course, a very little known film about a bloodthirsty shark back in 1975.
(33:19):
It's obscure. You probably never heard of it. Jaws, something like that.
But in all seriousness, we've all seen that one. Heck, it's my favorite film of all time.
I've seen it more than Die Hard, Wonder Boys and Scream combined.
Yet every time Hooper is diving and Ben Gardner's head comes floating up, I still almost pee myself.
Imagine seeing that as a grade schooler. Yet Jaws is PG as well.
(33:40):
Essentially anything that didn't really feel R but wasn't 100% family friendly, maybe there was some cursing, violence, sexual situations, even the briefest of nudity, it got slapped with a PG rating.
Jaws was often cited, as was Raiders of the Lost Ark and The Temple of Doom, and Gremlins is right in the middle of this debate as well.
Of course, there were plenty of other inappropriate PG films, but it does seem like Spielberg's name is attached to a lot.
(34:02):
And Spielberg, to be fair, was one of the loudest advocates for an intermediary rating between the PG and R.
And by this point he was one of the most powerful names in Hollywood, so the MPAA heard him and acted.
Just a month after Gremlins hit theater, Red Dawn became the first film to be released with a PG-13 rating.
And I say released because technically The Flamingo Kid was the first film to receive that rating, but Red Dawn came out before that stinker.
(34:24):
Seriously, the only thing interesting about that film is seeing Marisa Tomei in her first ever credited role.
Not that Red Dawn is a cinematic tour de force either.
But true to the discussion at hand, I did see Red Dawn on video at my uncle's house.
Gremlins didn't wig me out too much, but at least for a year after seeing Red Dawn, every time I saw a plane in the air, I tensed a little, wondering if it was the Russians finally making their move.
(34:45):
It was, however, fortunate for Gremlins to be ahead of the PG-13 curve.
I already mentioned the insistence that the film not get an R rating.
It wasn't only thinking about box office.
Not that it's all that different today, but those days of my youth saw a trend begin.
I've already spoken about the concept of cross-merchandising and selling everything from toys to cereal in concert with the film's release.
That would be my episode on Van Helsing if you're really curious to go back and listen.
(35:08):
The Saturday mornings of my youth filled with cartoons like G.I. Joe, Transformers, and He-Man.
They were really just half-hour toy commercials interrupted by actual toy commercials.
With an adorable little furball like Gizmo, there was no way the toy market wasn't champing at the bit to mass produce items.
I mean, I had a plush Gizmo, a substitute for a teddy bear, who many nights was tucked under my arm as I drifted to sleep.
(35:29):
And I also recall having a striped action figure, or maybe doll is the right word.
I think it was like 18 inches tall. Not quite life-size, but it was a pretty good size.
What really drove my parents crazy, I'm sure though, but fueled my obsession so much more that four decades later I recall it with vivid detail, was the Hardee's promotion.
As a bookish sort even back then, it was tailor-made for me.
(35:50):
Hardee's, but by the way, if you live in certain areas, Hardee's is Carl's Jr., but for the eastern side of the country instead.
Hardee's had this series of six illustrated books that told the story of the film, and they released one each week.
Which meant for a month and a half, my poor parents had to eat at least one Hardee's and peel.
To be fair, their burgers are almost edible. They're certainly better than the average fast food abomination.
(36:12):
And I can also tell you that the first of those six books was titled The Gift of the Mogwai.
I think I know that so vividly because in middle school we read O'Henry's famous story, of course, The Gift of the Magi.
And I suddenly realized the illusion that it soared right over my six-year-old skull.
There's an irony, of course, that a film like this, that both explicitly and implicitly critiques consumerism and rampant greed, simultaneously creates a tidal wave of products and promotions aimed squarely at children.
(36:37):
I'm a living example of how effective that strategy was.
Chasing books at Hardee's, clutching gizmo plush, and pestering my parents for a striped doll.
Yet that duality is part of what makes Gremlins so fascinating to revisit as an adult.
It critiques the very machine it feeds. It balances sharp social commentary with a knowing link in its audience.
And maybe that's the film's greatest trick. Not its critique of consumerism, but how it makes us willing participants in the very spectacle that it skewers.
(37:02):
All right, we're moving on to trivia. I'm running long.
So, and plus I've already peppered a little bit of trivia here and there throughout.
So I'm just going to toss out a couple of points I find interesting.
So Randall Pelzer is played by Hoyt Axton, who's also a musician and a songwriter.
Perhaps his most famous composition was Joy to the World, not the famous Christmas Carol, but the song by Three Dog Night.
(37:24):
The original opening lyric, Jeremiah was a prophet, which would be biblically accurate at least.
But the band apparently liked the replacement of Bullfrog better, leading to some of the same baffling thoughts as perhaps a moviegoer hearing Kate spew the story of her death of her father at Christmas does.
I mean, I don't know. The lyrics are absolute dot ism, but kind of cute.
Incidentally, Axton's mother, Mae Axton, wrote Heartbreak Hotel for Elvis Presley, making the two of them the first mother son duo to ever write number one songs.
(37:52):
And with those musical details, let's hop like Jeremiah to the next segment.
Shelfless Endeavors. In this segment, which is new to season two, I offer a snap review of a film not on my DVD shelf, specifically ones that are in theaters or getting some buzz with streaming.
Last week, I swung by the old cinema to check out Craven the Hunter. I came in with the lowest of expectations.
(38:13):
And if you see it, I recommend you do the same. Not only was I not disappointed, but I was also pleasantly surprised.
Now, don't go thinking this is a good film. It's anything but a good film. However, it's not unwatchable.
And there are some fun scenes and some directorial flourishes that make it more enjoyable than it should be.
I would also caution against going in full blown geek, which being one myself, I say, meaning no offense.
(38:35):
You know, don't insist on comic book accuracy. There's none of that.
Now, what they did with Rhino is an atrocity, so bad that it does detract from the overall enjoyment of the film.
But other changes like to Craven and Calypso, they actually work. Speaking of laughably bad, the CGI just yuck.
It makes you long for the days of practical effects, you know, like gremlins. As for the acting, well, you have Russell Crowe doing a Russian accent.
(39:00):
Not the best. Aaron Taylor Johnson is fine. Mostly here he's there to run around shirtless and dang, is this fellow ripped.
I've talked before about actors who just have a face that is interesting to look at, like Jude Law, but Taylor Johnson is the same way.
It goes beyond handsome. It's just compelling. And then there's Ariana DeBose. Like, holy crap, where did this woman come from?
(39:21):
OK, Hamilton in the West Side Story remake, but I've seen neither one of those. I know, I know.
Still, this is my introduction to her. And may I just say she is one of the brightest spots. I expect big things from this woman in the future.
Knowing that the spidey-less Spider-verse of Sony is ending with this film was a little strange that the ending seemed to set up a potential sequel.
(39:42):
I'm not sure if Disney, Marvel is interested in acquiring the IP, maybe integrating some of them into the MCU.
I mean, as horrible as Morbius was, seeing him, Craven, Venom, Carnage, finally duking it out with Tom Holland's web head.
I mean, I'd shell out some dough to watch that. Oh, and since we're talking about what's appropriate for age groups, make sure you check the rating before you go.
This is not a PG-13 film. It's bloody, crammed with graphic violence, and that may be what makes it so watchable.
(40:09):
The action scenes are for the most part well done, and the pacing is lightning quick. Its 127-minute runtime feels like a half hour.
Honestly, I was kind of hoping for a little more. So ultimately, Craven the Hunter is an odd beast.
It's not a film I'd rush out to see again, but it's not one I regret catching in theaters either.
If you're a fan of comic book fare and you can embrace ridiculousness, or if you just want a couple hours of action-packed mindless fun, it's worth a shot.
(40:33):
Especially with a discount matinee like I took in. And hey, with CGI like that, it'll make you appreciate the Gremlin's puppets all the more.
Alright, we're running way long, so let's get into shelf esteem, get this thing on a shelf, and call it a day.
For those of you new listeners or need a refresher, the way it works is there are five shelves on my DVD Curio, so I use the bartender's model.
(40:54):
The good stuff on the top shelf, the rot gut on the bottom shelf, and then you have second shelf, mid shelf, and fourth shelf in between.
This is really an enigma of a film. It's zany, screwball, sometimes flat out stupid.
The acting is off the rails. The plot is clearly suffering from all the cuts and changes.
It's incredibly mean-spirited and bitter, but it also strangely has heart and tenderness.
(41:17):
I mean, it's fun, it's delightful, it understands what it is and doesn't try to be anything but, kind of knowingly winks back at the camera as it realizes it's in on the joke.
It's pure camp, and that either works beautifully or it fails drastically when it's done.
This film is the former, thankfully. With its violence and darkness, but also its silliness and theatricality, it sometimes reminds me of those two Tim Burton Batman flicks, but on hallucinogens.
(41:39):
Speaking of, is Batman Returns a Christmas film? No, we're not going there. Let's just get Gizmo in his box.
Alright, so I'm calling this one...
Mid Shelf. I saw one at second shelf, and it does somewhat check the second shelf boxes.
Compelling storytelling, distinctive style, yeah, they're there, but they're just too many problems with the narrative and the film in general to put it on second shelf.
(42:07):
But, Middle Shelf? Middle Shelf is reserved for good films that have a few flaws or aren't quite as impactful, but still are enjoyable and worth your time.
Everyone should see this film at least once. If not, straight up, place it in your Christmas rotation.
And I haven't even mentioned that screwball sequel, or the fact that A Gremlin's Three is in the early stages of pre-production.
But I'll leave all that there. I already feel like I've been rambling worse than a drunk Mr. Futterman.
(42:30):
But hey, at least I didn't say, call Samu Fane!
Seeing as how tomorrow's Christmas Eve, and this is a holiday that you're supposed to spend time with family with or something,
so I don't think it's feasible that I'm going to have time to work in another Shelf Christmases-im episode.
Originally I'd wanted to finish with Christmas Vacation. Heck, I even went to a showing of that on the big screen at the Scholls Theater last Friday.
(42:52):
I mean, let's face it, I would have done that either way, but still.
At the point being, I think I'm just going to have to wait until next year to knock out Christmas Vacation as well as my others,
which I think are just Polar Express, Bad Santa, and Black Christmas.
Last episode, however, I did mention discovering the existence of a made-for-TV sequel of Christmas Vacation.
Christmas Vacation 2, Uncle Eddie's Island Adventure.
(43:14):
Well, I bought a digital copy on Amazon, because apparently I'm not only a completionist, but also a masochist.
Again, it's all that French literature I read.
Still, I watched it, and it is bad. I mean, it's so bad. I don't even have the words.
Actually, I do have the words, but they might contain GOSTERDELFING.
Suffice to say, I owe Elf an apology.
Uncle Eddie's Island Adventure may be the worst film I've ever seen, and y'all know I've watched some real stinkers.
(43:40):
Thus, if I suffered this much, you're going to have to as well.
So a day or so after Christmas, look for a special bonus episode covering this rotten made-for-TV sequel.
Since I don't own it, we'll just call it Beside My Shelf.
So look for that lump of coal when you're stocking the day after Christmas.
And if you really want, you can rent or buy the film on Amazon as well.
But you have been warned. It's torturous.
(44:01):
It'd make the Marquis de Sade squeamish. Gosh, I gotta quit with the French literature.
But if you do watch it and want to talk about any point, feel free to shoot me an email at steven at shelfcriticism.com.
That's S-T-E-P-H-E-N.
You can also find the podcast on Facebook at Shelf Criticism.
And don't forget my other podcast, Real Lit, where I'm joined by my colleague, The Extraordinary McKenzie.
(44:22):
You can find that just about anywhere you get your podcast fixed, as well as our official website, reallitpodcast.com, and social media at Real Lit Podcast.
Just remember that's R-E-E-L as in a film reel.
Obviously, we just released our Christmas episode of that as well, as I alluded to at the beginning.
So yeah, whether you think Die Hard's a Christmas film or not, you gotta admit it's a great film.
(44:43):
So come give that a listen. That's a very fun episode. I had a lot of fun with that one.
All right, with that exceptionally long runtime,
I think it's maybe time to say goodbye.
So until next time, DVD aficionados, remember to treat yourself to a little shelf indulgence of your own.
Amelia, sing us home.
(45:13):
Shelf Criticism is an Owls of Palace production.
This podcast is in no way connected with the educational institutions the host is employed by.
The opinions expressed herein are solely those of the host and do not necessarily reflect the views of any other organisation with which he is affiliated.
Most images displayed are public domain.
Images and stills from films, descriptions of scenes and passages from books are used for educational and critical purposes and not for profit and therefore fall under the terms of fair use.
(45:52):
Plays their part in keeping the madness both fun and minimal.
In that regard, I said, Gozniy by Vine.
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