An Invitation From Ghost Theater (2015)

Series Directors: Futoshi Sato, Ryuta Miyake, Hideo Nakata, Hirohisa Sasaki, Go Kinomoto.
Series cast:  Yuika Shima, Yui Yokoyama, Nana Okada, Matsuri Hashimoto, Anne Iriyama, Misato Morita,
Rena Kato, Seira Maeda, Nao Furuhata, Kaori Shiina, Ikumi Nakano, Yui Oguri, Rie Kitahara, Yoko Okamura, Kokora Morita, Mion Mukaichi, Juri Takahashi, Makiko Watanabe, Yuria Kizaki, Kaito Takamura,  Haruka Shimazaki, Riho Takada, Rin Asuka, Rika Adachi, Keira Machida, Sawa Nimura, Toshihito Kokubo,  Mantaro Koichi, Hisako Ohkata, Motoki Ochiai, Anri Mihama.

In my Female Prisoner Scorpion review I talked about how I had been a Japanese Cinema kick, so out of curiosity I decided to check out a few Japanese TV series, most notably Ultra-Man, and the subject of today’s review, An Invitation from Ghost Theater, a horror anthology series.  An Invitation from Ghost Theater (Gekijorei karano Syotaijo) is ten episodes long, and each episodes features a young female protagonist who has an encounter with the supernatural (which usually doesn’t end well).  It should be noted that most of the main actresses were former members of the Japanese girl group AKB48.

Like most anthology series, Ghost Theater is a mixed bag – the stories range from irritating [most notably the 4^th entry, The Rotten (Fuhai)] to mediocre [the first episode, Burial (Maiso)] to effective [Auditory Hallucination (Gentyo), The Return (Kaiki), The Yearning (Syokei), and Eternity (Eien)].
The second half of the season is far more effective than the first. Ghost Theater often plays like a Japanese version of Alfred Hitchcock Presents; each episode opens with an introduction by actor Montaro Koichi and the ends with him wrapping up the story. The acting is all over the place, as well; this isn’t too surprising considering that many of these actresses were in their teens and still wet behind the ears. It doesn’t help that the characters are, for the most part, underwritten – each episode is about twenty-four minutes long, which means most of the focus is on setting up the horror.  It also doesn’t help that too often the characters make the dumbest decision; a lot of the misery they suffer could have easily been avoided if they exercised the most basic common sense. The better episodes tend to be the ones with some character development. 

My favorite episode of the series was Auditory Hallucination (Gentyo); it stars Rie Kitahara as pop singer, Aya Usami, who is promoting her upcoming album on a radio show.  As in the interview progresses, she begins to hear noises coming from headphones, which the producers initially chalk up to technical difficulties, but then she hears a car crash coming from her headphone and then a ghostly voice that keeps saying “I’m coming for you.”  The episode eventually ends with her being stalked throughout the radio station by the ghost of a former colleague (or is she?).  Rie Kitahara was a pop singer in real life, so she is effectively cast in the lead role. Her character Aya has such a pleasant demeanor that, at first, it is a mystery as to why she is being stalked by a ghost. If there is one gripe I have with the episode; I think it would have been more effective had it been more ambiguous – she Aya really being haunted by a ghost, or it is all in her head; a manifestation of a guilty conscience.  This episode effectively rachets up the tension; Aya initially chalks up the car crash and ghostly voice as a prank, but as they intensify, she begins to slowly lose all grip on reality.

The Rotten is the lowlight of the series. Rena Kato stars as a popular girl, Suzuka (who is also a teen model) who is being followed around by the school dweeb, Natsumi (Seira Maeda). The two of them used to be friends, but Suzuka would rather forget about that.  In a grisly turn of events, Suzuka accidentally kills Natsumi, and things take a turn for the worse when Natsumi comes back as a zombie.  This episode is largely played for laughs; there is even a scene where Suzuka gives the decaying Natsumi a makeover. The problem is the acting far more grating than funny; it is also hard to sympathize with Natsumi because she comes off as creepy. We’re supposed to think Suzuka is cold for brushing off her childhood friend, but given Natsumi’s behavior, maybe she was justified in cutting all ties. 

The most famous name involved with the series is the horror director Hideo Nakata.  He directed the first episode (Burial) and the final episode (Eternal). The first episode is a forgettable entry where the characters make the dumbest decisions imaginable, and blatantly steals the ending to The Vanishing.  Eternal is a creepy episode about a young housekeeper who finds herself the object of affection of an evil boy. It’s an episode that does a great job of building sympathy for the main character, Yuri (Yuria Kizaki) – she’s in a passionless relationship with her boyfriend, who is more interested in playing games on his phone than having a conversation with his girlfriend. When she tries to get intimate with him, he rebukes her (he complains that she is too sweaty).  Therefore, it’s not too surprising she is touched by the warm welcome she is giving by Shota and his grandmother.  When Shota asks Yuri to marry him, she initially chalks it up to a child’s crush.  As the episode progresses, Shota becomes increasingly more possessive and sinister. This episode epitomizes the phrase, "No good deed goes unpunished."  It’s an effective thriller and right up there with Nakata’s better work.

These two episodes also perfectly sum up Nakata’s career; he directed a couple of genuine classics (The Ring, Dark Water) but most of his filmography is forgettable (Sadako, The Ring Two, and a few laughable erotic thrillers, like The Woman Who Keeps a Murderer).  After the success of The Ring and Dark Water, he went into full cruise control mode (hoping his name would be enough to sell the movie). It’s a shame because he had great potential as a filmmaker. 

An Invitation from Ghost Theater is such an obscure show that it was difficult to find material surrounding this show; most of my information came from the blog, Children of Sadako. This is rather a shame, because while the show is a mixed bag it is still worth checking out; especially for the final four episodes. If you ever have a free afternoon, I recommend you check it out. 

Female Prisoner Scorpion Quadrilogy (1972-1973)

(WARNING: This review contains spoilers) I have recently been on a Japanese Cinema kick – it started after seeing Godzilla Minus One in the theatres and is still going strong two months later. I have watched The Gamera series; A bunch of Ishiro Honda films (The H-Man, Matango, Battle In Outer Space, Atragon), The Bloodthirsty trilogy (The Vampire Doll, Lake of Dracula, Evil of Dracula), The Ring series, Dark Water, Lady Snowblood, and the subject of today’s review, the Female Prisoner Scorpion Quadrilogy. Throughout the 70s (and even into the 80s), “women behind bars” was a popular subgenre of movies that was produced predominantly by B studios. These movies are a prime example of exploitation cinema (Japan has a specific name for this genre of film, Pink): they often featured lots of female nudity, violence, gratuitous sex scenes, and the occasional lesbian scene thrown in for good measure. It isn’t too surprising that Toei (Japan’s equivalent to American International Pictures) eventually got into the act. In 1972 and 1973, Toei produced the Female Prisoner Scorpion Quadrilogy; which follows the exploits of the unflappable convict Nami Matsushima (AKA: The Scorpion). These four movies basically follow the formula of your average “women behind bars” film, but what separates these four films from the rest is the often-surrealistic direction and the star of the series, Meiko Kaji.

 Nami Matsushima is the female counterpart to Clint Eastwood’s “The Man with No Name” character; they only speak when absolutely necessary (in the second entry, Jailhouse 41, Matsu has only two lines of dialogue). In Nami’s case, you always sense she is sizing up the people around her, trying to determine if they can be trusted, or looking for a potential weakness she can exploit. She patiently waits for the ideal moment to strike and when she does, it’s usually in a stealth-like manner. After she breaks out of prison, she stalks the streets of Tokyo in a black trench coat and black sunhat (looking like death incarnate) and picks off her unsuspecting prey one by one.

There are two notable differences between Nami and “The Man With No Name”: In the first movie, we are shown Nami’s backstory while “The Man with No Name” remains a completely mystery. Occasionally, Nami will let her mask slip and we see her more vulnerable side. She will occasionally cry (though usually when no one else is around, Nami would never give her enemies the satisfaction of seeing her tear up). In the fourth film, she becomes romantically involved with would be anarchist, Kudo. “The Man With No Name” is an asexual character; he is not the least bit interested in sex.

Nami, on the other hand, has no qualms about using sex for own benefit. In the first film, the sadistic warden puts Kito (an undercover cop) into solitary confinement with Nami to spy on her. Nami is immediately wise to this ruse but also senses that Kito is attracted to her and seduces the naïve Kito. She works up Kito to the point of arousal and then pulls away; this leaves Kito begging Matsu for more, but she is denied the pleasure. The next day when Kito is reporting to the warden, she keeps begging him to put her back in solitary confinement; the warden puts two and two together, strips down Kito, sees that her body is covered with lipstick, and promptly dismisses the hysterical officer. This scene has two functions: its main function, of course, is to titillate the audience – Kito is completely stripped naked by Nami, and the camera lingers on her nude body for quite some time. However, it also gives us an insight into Nami’s character – she discovers Kito’s weakness and uses it to discredit her. This scene also contributes to the movie’s surreal quality – the idea that Kito would have lipstick all her body is ludicrous. For starters, it is unlikely the prison would allow Nami to wear lipstick, especially if she was in solitary confinement. This is less about realism and more about visually depicting Kito's state of mind - she  is so obsessed with Nami that, instead of washing the lipstick off, she decides to leave it on her body as a memento of their short-lived fling. 

 Nami can often be reckless when it comes to her revenge, and it often results in collateral damage. In 701’s Grudge Song, Kudo and Nami break into the apartment of their common enemy, Detective Kodoma, and bound and gag his pregnant wife. They are hoping to ambush the detective, but when he fails to show up, they try to strong arm information out of her, and she ends up falling to her death as result of their carelessness.

In the second film, Jailhouse 41, Nami and six other inmates escape from prison and end up hijacking a bus full of sightseers. Nami holds the driver at knifepoint, while her fellow inmates start terrorizing the passengers on the bus. At first, their wrath is justified, as they are initially taunting three men who are responsible for rape and murder of Rose, the youngest member of the gang, but then they target two women on the bus (who had nothing to with Rose’s death) by stripping of their clothes and forcing them to dance. The most sadistic member of the gang, Oba, sticks her shotgun into an old man’s crotch and forces him to shout “Banzai!” It’s pretty evident that Nami is disgusted by their actions but also doesn’t want to get involved (mainly because she is outnumbered). Oba and the gang betray Nami when, after they come across a barricade, throw Nami off the bus to create a distraction. Later, the bus is cornered by law enforcement, and the warden sends Nami into to check out the scene. She exchanges a few words with Oba and then walks back to the warden. When he asks her how the hostages are doing, she lies and says they are all dead. The police open fire on the bus and end up killing the inmates (except Oba who is mortally wounded) but it’s also likely that a few of the passengers were killed as well. Nami is so hell bent on getting revenge on her betrayers (and making the police look foolish) that she is willing to risk the lives of innocent civilians. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. 

The best thing that Quadrilogy has going for it is Meiko Kaji in the title role. Kaji is an extremely interesting actress; she is striking beautiful, to be sure, but she has a total command of the screen. In comparison, I recently watched the B-movie, OneChanbara: Bikini Samurai Squad, and while the lead actress in that movie, Eri Otoguri, is also extremely attractive (she looks great in a bikini) she completely lacks the screen presence that Kaji displays here. Meiko Kaji is one of those rare actresses who can say a lot by doing very little: there is a moment in the fourth film, 701’s Grudge Song, where Kudo is talking to Nami and she flashes him a tiny smile; it is very subtle, but it speaks volumes about Nami’s state of mind – she is cautiously optimistic. She also brings a great deal of intensity to the role; when Nami dons the black trench coat and sunhat, you know she means business and no one is going to stand in her way.

In Beast Stable, we get a better look at Nami’s more sensitive side – there is a scene where she has an emotional breakdown and starts to cry (again, no one is around to witness it). Nami has been caught by the yakuza and is trapped in a cage with ravens. This isn’t what causes the breakdown rather, it’s the sight of the prostitute, Shinobu, who is lying on the floor next to Nami. Shinobu was six months pregnant and was forced to get an abortion by her madame, Katsu. Katsu indifferently tosses the distraught Shinobu in the same room as Nami. The sight of Shinobu crying out in pain while still covered in blood is too much for Nami and she can't hold back her tears. However, she quickly recovers and forms a plan to get out of her makeshift prison. 

 It would a be easy to dismiss Kaji as a one note actress (it was during this time she played a similar character in Lady Snowblood) but prior to Female Prisoner Scorpion series, she starred in the Stray Cat Rock series, and she often played characters who the polar opposite of Nima Matsushima; in Wild Jumbo, she plays the delinquent C-ko, and not only does her character say a lot, but she manages to inject humor into her performance. It is my opinion that Meiko Kaji could have been an international star if she had sought it out. I could totally see Meiko Kaji teaming up with Clint Eastwood in a western; two drifters who reluctantly team up to take out a common enemy. Oh well!!! Thankfully, Meiko Kaji has not been lost to history; she has become a cult actress, and The Female Prisoner Scorpion series and Lady Snowblood were two of the main inspirations for Quentin Tarantino’s Kill Bill movies. On top of being a great actress, she was also an accomplished singer (she sings the theme song in all four Female Prisoner Scorpion movies, as well as theme song to Lady Snowblood; both of which appears on the Kill Bill soundtrack). 

 The other thing that distinguishes the Female Prisoner Scorpion (at the least the first three films) is its surreal approach to the material. The first three movies were directed by Shunya Ito, and he definitely has an imaginative style. #701’s Grudge Song was directed by Yasuharu Hasebe and it’s the weakest out of the series because it is the most routine. 

 The first indication that this is not going to be your average “Woman behind Bars” movie is the flashback in the first movie. In a more conventional movie, the flashback would be signified with the use of a cloudy filter and distorted images, but director Ito opts for a more surrealistic approach – there is no clear transition between scenes but rather they seem to bleed into one another. For instance, the flashback begins with Nami and her then boyfriend, Detective Sugimi, making love in spacious, empty room. The camera then pans up to the back wall of the room and then silhouettes of people sitting at tables appear on the wall, then the lights go up and we are in a nightclub. Nami has been sent by Sugimi to spy on a drug smuggling ring, but her cover is blown, and she is raped by a several drug dealers. It’s only after she is raped that Sugimi arrives on the scene and makes the arrest; he gloats over his arrest while ignoring Nami’s current state. However, it turns out that this whole bust was just a pretext to obtain a bribe from the yakuza. He sold Nami out to a pack of wolves. We also get a rather clever transition from the nightclub to the office of the yakuza boss; Sugimi busts opens a safe that contains the drugs and then the back wall does a 360 spin and next thing know, Sugimi is standing next to the desk of the yakuza boss, counting his bribe money. Through the entirety of this scene, Nami is lying in the foreground of the shot.  

In the next scene, Nami tries to kill Sugimi outside police quarters, in broad daylight, she is still wearing the torn-up dress that she was raped in. Remember, this is a flashback told from Nami’s point of view, so it’s not an accurate telling of what happened, but rather represents Nami’s state of mind – after being raped, Nami feels exposed to the world. 

 Later, there is a fight scene between Nami and fellow inmate, Masaki. However, the lighting, staging and make up of this scene seems more fitting for a horror movie than an action film. The character of Masaki is made up like The Bride of Frankenstein and seems to glide across the room (it’s a scene that anticipates Sam Raimi’s Evil Dead trilogy). The scene ends when Masaki accidentally stabs the warden in eye with a shard of glasses (she is aiming for Nami, who ducks out of the way at the last second). This, naturally, enrages the warden and he strangles Masaki to death.

The second film, Jailhouse 41, has a scene where each of the inmates' backstory is explained to the audience, but it is done through song rather than dialogue. An offscreen voice, accompanied by a biwa, sings in detail how each woman wound up in prison. This scene begins with a long shot; the seven women are sitting middle of the frame, in front of black background, while an old woman appears to hover over them in the background. They are sitting in front of a fire - this scene has very mystical quality to it. It is also done in a minimalistic manner – when each individual woman's story being told, she is sitting in front of black background and the camera slowly zooms in on her. 

The third film, Beast Stable, has another scene that is straight out of a horror movie – at the beginning of the movie, Nami manages to escape a police officer who has handcuffed her by hacking off his arm. While she is free, she is still handcuffed to a severed arm. After the prostitute Yuki has finished with a client, she hears noises coming from the cemetery and noticed Nami crouched behind a headstone, biting on the severed arm to free herself from the handcuffs. It is a credit to the filmmakers and Meiko Kajis performance that Nami looks ghoulish in this scene – she could easily be an extra from Night of the Living Dead.

The closest thing we get to surrealism in the fourth movie is the final confrontation between Nami and Detective Kodoma; he has broken out of prison so he can hang her on his own makeshift galley. The set (intentionally) looks fake, with a fake sky filled with fake grey clouds. However, the climax to this scene is poorly staged – Detective Kodoma puts Nami’s neck in the noose and kicks the chair out from under her; she manages to jump and grab onto the top beam of the galley, freeing herself in the process, Kodama fires a few shots at her with his gun but somehow misses, he stumbles on the trap door, his neck goes through the noose in the process, and he accidentally hangs himself. This scene happens so fast, and is accomplished with rapid cuts, that it is hard to figure out what happened. It’s rather anti-climactic.

While I have many positive things to say about the Female Prisoner Scorpion trappings, it isn’t exempt from the sleazy trappings that frequently popped in exploitation movies. It suffers from the attitude that was prevalent in grindhouse films – there is no such thing as bad nudity. In #701’s Grudge Song, there is a rather gratuitous rape scene. Detective Kodoma and the female warden express concern that Prison Guard Daiman is too soft on the prisoners and have her raped by a few police officers to shape her up - Kodoma blackmails her into going along with his plan for revenge. The problem with this scene is that it comes immediately after Daiman is seen taunting Nami as she scrubs the steps on the galley; Nami’s treatment of prisoner Akiko has turned Daiman against Nami. It’s more than likely Daiman would have gone along with his scheme without the rape. It has no bearing on the plot; it’s just an excuse to show an attractive woman naked. Beast Stable is probably the sleaziest film in the bunch (yet is still more entertaining than #701’s Grudge Song); in it Nami forms a friendship with the prostitute Yuki, who is also in an incestuous relationship with her mentally challenged brother. We get multiple sex scenes between the two and they are, appropriately, creepy. Yuki willingly offers up her body to brother as way of keeping him in check, she gets no pleasure from it – she just lies on floor still while his brother has his way with her. It should also note that I watched Beast Stable on the same night as Shogun’s Joy of Torture; another Toei movie that features a story of incest. What the hell, Toei? It should also be pointed out that Yuki is played by Yayoi Watanabe, who appears in three of the Female Prison Scorpion movies (she plays a different role in each film).  As Yuki, she gives a very effective performance; in her hands, Yuki comes across as a tragic heroine than a lowly prostitute.  

 Another interesting theme that pops up throughout the series is that the female prisoners are often as cruel and sadistic as the prisoner guards; in the first film, Katagiri, at the request of Sugimi, agrees to kill Nami in exchange for her freedom. However, she isn't foolish enough to take Nami on by herself, instead she turns the entire prison against Nami (by implying she is working with the guards). The women gang up on Nami, tie her up, hanging her up on the ceiling, and take turns beating up on her. It's only after Katagiri attempts to burn them all alive that they realize they have duped and turn on Katagiri. In the sequel, the six prisoner who escape with Nami torment an entire bus of sightseers and then betray Nami by throwing her to the police.

 Yet, there often moments of humanity scattered throughout the series. In Jailhouse 41, the escapee Rose is urinating by a lake and is spotted by two young boys. The two boys, with their juvenile minds, find sight of woman urinating hilarious, and Rose, taking no offense to the boy's amusement, laughs along with them and then exchanges a few pleasant words with them. Sadly, it's after this pleasant encounter that she runs into three slimy businessmen who raped and murder her. In Beast Stable Nami develops a bond with the Yuki; she is appalled by Yuki's incestuous relationship her brother, but she senses a kindred spirit - they both have been hurt by the people they loved. Later, when Nami is on the run and hiding in the sewers, Yuki finds her and gives her food and clean water to drink.

 Other than the sleazy visuals, the writing is heavily flawed – too much of Nami’s success is predicated on her enemies making dumb decisions. Detective Kodama, not content with the State hanging Nami, breaks her out of prison so he can enact his own personal revenge. If he had allowed the State to do their job, he would still be alive. In the first film, Sugimi has Nami cornered in the elevator, but rather than kill her decides to kiss her; she takes advantage of this opportunity by biting deeply into his lower lip, which results in copious amounts of blood squirting out.

 In #701’s Grudge Song, the romance between Nami and Kudo is forced; it’s hard to believe that someone as levelheaded as Nami would fall for an unhinged lunatic like Kudo. Hell, even their love scene is passionless; it feels like the filmmakers just wanted to get it out of the way and rushed through it.

Though, there is a great payoff to this relationship: the police capture Kudo and after hours of torture, finally get him to break once they bring out his mother; she shames him into revealing Nami’s location. This is second time that she has been betrayed by a man she has loved and after she disposes of Kudoma she goes after Kudo. She confronts him at the strip club he works at (he is a lighting technician). He is happy to see her and gives her a hug; while she is in his embrace, she stabs him with a knife. However, Kudo doesn’t begrudge Nami for this; he was fully anticipating it and dies peacefully.

 The Female Prisoner Scorpion movies are by no means cinematic masterpieces, but they are worth seeing for their compelling lead actress, Meiko Kaji, and their often-surrealistic visuals. If you are a fan of exploitation cinema and surrealism, then these films are probably up your alley. If you are the type of person whose cup of tea is Maid in Manhattan or Titanic, then say clear away.

 Credits 

Female Prisoner #701: Scorpion (1972) Cast: Meiko Kaji (Nami Matsushima/Scorpion), Rie Yokoyama (Katagiri), Yayoi Watanabe (Yukiko Kida), Yoko Mihara (Masaki), Akemi Negishi (Otsuka), Keiko Kuni (Nemoto), Yumiko Katayama (Kito), Emi Jo (Morikawa), Isao Natsuyagi (Tsugio Sugimi), Fumio Watanabe (Warden Goda). Director: Shunya Ito Writers: Fumio Konami, Hiro Matsuda Running Time: 87 minutes

 Female Prisoner Scorpion: Jailhouse 41 (1972) Cast: Meiko Kaji (Nami Matsushima/Scorpion), Fumio Watanabe (Warden Goda), Kayoko Shiraishi (Oba), Yukie Kagawa (Tomiko Yasuki), Eiko Yanami (Harue), Hiroko Isayama (Asaka Noda), Kuniko Ishii (Rose Miyako), Yuki Aresa (Kimiyo Oikawa), Hideo Murota (Okizaki), Fudeko Tanaka (The Old Woman). Director: Shunya Ito Writers: Shunya Ito, Fumio Konami, Hiro Matsuda. Running Time: 90 minutes 

 Female Prisoner Scorpion: Beast Stable (1973) Cast: Meiko Kaji (Nami Matsushima/Scorpion), Yayoi Watanabe (Yuki), Mikio Narita (Detective Kondo), Reisen Lee (Katsu), Koji Nanbara (Sameshima), Takashi Fujika (Tanida), Tomoko Mayama (Shinobu). Director: Shunya Ito Writer: Hiro Matsuda Running Time: 87 minutes 

 Female Prisoner Scorpion: 701’s Grudge Song (1973) Cast: Meiko Kaji (Nami Matushima/ Scorpion), Masakazu Tamura (Teruo Kudo), Toshiyuki Hosokawa (Takeshia Kodoma), Yumi Kanei (Kinuyo Kodoma), Hiroshi Tsukata (Detective Hirose), Yayoi Watanabe (Midori), Sanae Nakahara (Akiko), Kaoru Kusuda (Prison director Nakasone), Akemi Negishi (Prison Guard Minamimura), Akiko Mori (Chief Guard Daimon), Junko Ando (Prison Guard Mazaki). Director: Yasuharu Hasebe Writers: Yasuharu Hasebe, Fumio Konami, Hiro Matsuda Running Time: 89 minutes.

A Garfield Christmas ( 1987)

 

As a kid one of the biggest joys of the Christmas season, other than the presents, was the holiday specials that aired on television through out December.  The vast majority of these specials have fallen through the cracks, but there are a few that have become classics.  A Garfield Christmas first aired on December 21, 1987 and it is one of those specials that my family still watches. The reason Garfield works to well is that humor appeals to both kids and adults; it also doesn’t have the patronizing tone that can be found in many children’s shows.   Garfield, much like Charles M Schulz’s Peanuts, was a fairly popular comic strip that successfully transitioned to television.  Garfield is a cynical cat who lives with his, slightly neurotic, owner Jon and Odie, Jon’s idiotic dog.

The premise to A Garfield is fairly simple: Jon, with Garfield and Odie in tow, visits his family on the farm.  While Jon and Odie are enthusiastic about spending Christmas on the farm, Garfield is filled with absolute dread.  He doesn’t want to leave the comfy confines of his city home to visit a bunch of yokels in the middle of nowhere.  However, much to his surprise, Garfield actually enjoys himself and even gives a “heartfelt” speech at the end of the episode.  

 

Jon’s family is a rather colorful bunch: 

Jon’s father is your stereotypical country bumpkin, whose enthusiasm for the holiday has begun to wear thin.  When it is time to put the Christmas Star on top of the Christmas Tree, he asks “Why do we always have to put the star on last? Why not put the star on first and then put the tree up?”  In his old age, it has become too much of a hassle. When it is time for him to read the traditional Christmas story, he gets annoyed and asks, “Do I have to?” His reaction here is understandable given that both of his sons, Jon and Doc Boy, are now grown men.

 

Jon’s mother is a cheerful woman who is bit overzealous when it comes to the holidays. She has a tendency of making too much food; when Jon asks for a piece of pie, she asks, “Apple, peach, pumpkin, blue berry, cherry, or banana cream?” 

 

Jon’s younger brother, Doc Boy, is immature and fairly sarcastic. When he wakes up on Christmas morning, he is wearing furry bunny themed pajamas.  It’s also telling that one of his presents is a toy air plane; despite him being a grown man. 

 

Jon’s grandmother is a cantankerous old lady who seems to be at odds with everyone. 
When Jon’s mom remakes, “This is going to be the happiest Christmas. I’m so happy I could just burst.”
Grandma replies with, “Put a sock in it, deary!” 
It’s not surprising that Garfield takes an immediate liking to grandma – they are kindred spirits.

A Garfield Christmas moves at really rapid pace.  It swiftly moves from one set piece to another without every missing a beat.  While that may not seem like much of accomplishment given its short running time (23 minutes), there are plenty of other animated specials from that era that feel like an eternity, despite being less than half an hour log.
One of the funniest gags in the show is how the closer it gets to Christmas the more child-like Jon and Doc Boy become. There is a funny bit where Jon and Doc Boy wake up their dad early in the morning (1:30 AM) and ask, “Is it time to open presents?”  When their dad says no, Jon rebuts that it is “technically Christmas morning.”  Their father shouts for them to “GO TO BED” and they grudgingly obey him.

There is also a rather poignant scene where Grandma reminisces to Garfield about her late husband, and how Christmas is when she misses him to the most.  It is interesting to see this type of heartfelt moment in a children’s cartoon. The special takes a short break from all the insanity and allows for Grandma to her own moment. This also sets up the scene later where Garfield finds old love letters written by Grandpa, and then gives them to Grandma as Christmas presents.  It’s one of the rare moments where Grandma, publicly, allows for her cynical mask to slip.

A Garfield Christmas is one of the few 80s Christmas specials that actually holds up. This is in large part due to the fact that it doesn’t scream “1980s” like most specials at the time. Even the music score and songs feel like something from a different era.  The first number “Can’t Wait Til Christmas” feels like something out of a Broadway musical, while the final number “Good Old Fashioned Christmas” has a bluegrass type feel to it.  The most important thing, however, is that there is air of familiarity about the special  - there’s at least one thing that a viewer can relate to.   Most of us had to get into the family car at Christmas and visits are relatives, often with mixed results.  It’s to the credit of Garfield creator, Jim Davis, that he wrote a fairly low key special. He could have easily done something crazy (like have Garfield team up with Santa) instead he went with the more relatable approach.

Credits
Voices:  Lorenzo Music (Garfield), Thom Huge (Jon), Gregg Berger (Odie), Pat Carroll (Grandma), Pat Harrington, Jr. (Dad), David L. Lander (Doc Boy), Julie Payne (Mom)
Writer:  Jim Davis
Director: Phil Roman, George Singer
Running Time: 23 min.

Poison Ivy (1985)

 

 

The Summer Camp movie was a popular comedy subgenre throughout the 80s and 90s. The movie that helped kicked it off was the 1979 comedy Meatballs, starring Bill Murray, co-written by Harold Ramis, and directed by Ivan Reitman (the team that would go onto create Stripes and, of course Ghostbusters). Meatballs proved to be such a hit that it spawned three terrible sequels and many rip offs.  One of those “rip offs” was the 1985 made for television comedy, Poison Ivy, starring Michael J. Fox and Nancy McKeon.  While Poison Ivy is greatly indebted to Meatballs there is a significant difference between the two movies;  Meatballs is mainly focused on the exploits of the camp counselors while the kids (with the exception of Rudi) are mostly background noise.  Poison Ivy, on the other hand, is more evenly balanced between the counselors and the boys (it takes place at Camp Pinewood, an all boys’ summer camp).  In the context of 1985, the biggest draw for audiences would have been Micheal J. Fox and Nancy McKeon, who were two of the more popular TV actors of that era. In the context of today, the movie is an interesting relic of its era. The ultimate 80s nostalgia.
 

Poison Ivy has ten central characters (five adults and five kids) and in order to do a proper review of this movie, it helps to do a brief analysis on each of these characters.

The Adults:

Dennis Baxter (Michael J.Fox)

 
Poison Ivy was made during an interesting point in Michael J. Fox’s career; it was released months before Fox would reach super movie stardom with Back to the Future and Teen Wolf. At this point he was essentially known for his role as Alex P. Keaton on the TV sitcom, Family Ties. The fact that the producers were able to get an actor of Fox’s caliber in the role of Dennis may be one of the biggest coups in television history.  Fox has the magical ability to take a potentially abrasive character like Dennis and make him likable. In many ways, Dennis Baxter is a toned down version of Bill Murray’s character, Trapper, in the movie Meatballs.  Both of them are ladies’ men:  Dennis is more a flirt, while Trapper is a bit more aggressive in his interactions with the opposite sex.  The redeeming quality both of them have is how they take a misfit boy (Rudi in Meatballs, Timmy in Poison Ivy) under their wing and instill them with confidence.  Rudi is the only boy who has any screen time in Meatballs, while in Poison Ivy there is a sense, from the very get go, that Dennis shares a bond with the boys under his charge.

 
The screenwriter Bennett Tramer effectively sets this up in the opening scene – Bobby and Toby are up on the rooftop throwing water balloons at people and Ike Dimick orders Dennis to go after them.  Once on the rooftop, Dennis grabs one of the balloons and drops it on Ike's head. 

 

When he returns with the boys, Dennis covers for them by telling Ike that it was different pair of boys throwing water balloons, and that Bobby and the Toby actually went on the rooftop to stop them. Ike completely buys Dennis' explanation and congratulates the boys on their Camp Pinewood spirit. This not only proves to the boys that they can trust Dennis, but it sets up their loyalty to another, and their willingness to cover for each other.  Though, I find Dennis’ actions here a bit problematic, but I will go into that when I discuss Ike Dimick.

Rhonda Malone (Nancy McKeon)

 
Rhonda is the camp nurse.  She is also attending medical school and is using this to gain experience in her field. Rhonda also has a fairly no nonsense attitude when it comes the children and staff – when Dennis drops all sorts of pick-up lines on her, she calls him out on his bullshit.  They may have their desired effect on other women, but not on Rhonda.  Nancy McKeon is inspired casting – she was best known for playing the tomboy Jo on The Facts of Life – and manages to inject personality into what could have easily been an underwritten role.  She is tough, but she also manages to maintain her femininity.  Her character has nice homey quality about her – the filmmakers didn't feel the need to  “sex her up,” her natural beauty speaks for itself.   

 

If Poison Ivy had been released theatrically, there more than likely would have been a few gratuitous shots of Dennis leering at Rhonda’s behind.  While she is initially annoyed by Dennis, the two of them do develop a genuine bond once Dennis stops trying to be a player. Though, as much as I like Nancy McKeon in the role, the character of Rhonda is responsible for one the movie’s weaker elements. I will get to that later.

Big Irv (Robert Klein)

 
Big Irv is the enthusiastic but fairly clueless director of the boys camp. He constantly drones on about the “Pinewood spirit” and his annual “Color War” competition is supposed to determine who has that spirit.  It’s not enough for Big Irv that these boys enjoy their summer; he genuinely believes he is molding the boys into future leaders.  There are actually a lot of funny moments with this character (marvelously played by Robert Klein); the most notable scene is when Big Irv declares “Color War” and is framed in a similar as George C. Scott was at the beginning of Patton – standing in front of the Color War flag while addressing the audience.  Big Irv would like to see himself as being a Patton type figure, but he is a total pushover.  He is an idiot, but a well-meaning idiot.

 

Ike Dimick (Adam Baldwin)

 
Ike Dimick is a wannabe military badass – he runs the summer camp like a boot camp. There is also a hint that he is either impotent, or possibly (given that this was the 80s) gay. When Margo, the horny wife of the camp director, attempts to seduce him he barely bats an eye.  Later, she does manage to persuade Ike to take a bath with her, but he only agrees on the condition that she stays on her side of the tub.  The writing for Ike is bit muddled, though Adam Baldwin gives it his all. Dimick is essentially a low rent Douglas Niedermeyer (from Animal House) thought not quite as fascistic. He has a win at all costs type of mentality – when the Color War games begin, he uses all sorts of underhanded tactics to defeat his opponent. The problem I have with this character is that he is written as such a hard ass that we, the audience, automatically side against him, even when he is in the right.  When Dennis is flirting with a girl at the train station, instead of keeping an eye on his group of boys, Ike rightfully calls him out on this.  In fact, while Dennis is making googly eyes at some random girl, two of his boys go up on the rooftop and start chucking water balloons at random people.  We’re supposed to view Ike as being a total square, but his point is still valid.  If one of these boys would have been injured, something tells me Dennis wouldn’t be making quips.

Margo Klopper (Caren Kaye)

 
Margo is Big Irv’s neglected and extremely horny wife who has her eyes set on Ike Dimick; she is your quintessential MILF.   If Poison Ivy had been a theatrical feature, there probably would have been a scene of Margo walking around in a bikini (or underwear) while all the males gawk at her. However, as this was a prime-time television movie (made with a family audience in mind) her interactions with Ike seem fairly tame. Caren Kaye does her best with the material she is given but Margo is an extremely one-dimensional character.

The Boys:

Jerry Disbro (Joe Wright)

Jerry is probably the most complex of the characters. He is a grifter – he is always looking for an angle to exploit. When Big Irv asks Bobby to join the boys’ varsity baseball team, Jerry steps in and acts as Bobby’s agent.  He also manages to run an entire system where the camp poet, Brian, will write letters to the boys' parents in an exchange for PX tickets.  He essentially runs the camp, while Big Irv remains completely oblivious to it all. Jerry also sees himself as something of a lady’s man; he manages to sneak into the girl’s camp in hopes of hooking up with a blonde girl he met on the train.

 In a fairly clever bit of writing, it is also revealed that Jerry is the younger brother of Mark Disbro, who is a Pinewood legend.  In the previous summer, Mark helped lead the Grey team to the victory in the Color War.  When the Color War begins, this puts Jerry under a lot of pressure to help the Grey team repeat as champions.  It is interesting to note that Poison Ivy was written by Bennett Tramer, who would go on to become one of the head writers for Saved By the Bell. Jerry Disbro is, essentially, a forerunner to Zack Morris. They both are constantly scheming to elevate their own social standing and it often comes at the expense of their friends. The only difference is that Jerry lacks Zack’s magical ability to freeze time. 

Brian Firestone (Thomas Nowell)

Brian Firestone is the nerdy kid, who is also an extremely gifted writer.  His main storyline is that he develops a massive crush on the camp nurse, Rhonda – something that most boys in the 80s could relate to, as Nancy McKeon was one of their first major crushes.  Like most naïve boys, Brian wants to be near Rhonda as often as possibly, so he often comes with excuses to visit the nurse’s office – including rolling in a patch of Poison Ivy.  This is one of the movie’s better written subplots, as it’s a fairly accurate representation of a first crush – it is an awkward experience. I think everyone has experienced a case of unrequited love; in Brian’s case, it is on an older woman who is barely aware of his existence. 

 

  Brian also writes anonymous love letters to Rhonda, who mistakenly believes they are from Dennis. As mentioned before, Jerry uses Brian’s talent for writing for his own personal gain – Brian writes letters to the boys' parents in exchange for PX tickets.  When the parents visit the camp, they all boast about how their sons have developed into gifted writers. A few of them suspect that something is a foot, but they can’t quite put their finger on it.  Thomas Nowell is fairly good in the role, yet the only other credit I know him from is Friday the 13^th,Part VI: Jason Lives, where he constantly repeats the phrase, “We’re dead meat!”

Timmy Mezzy (Cary Guffey) 

 
Timmy Mezzy is, initially, the outcast of the group. He doesn’t want to attend Camp Pinewood and spends the first half of the movie trying to run away.  However, he wins over the other boys when he refuses to rat out them out– in one of his escape attempts he dresses up as a girl, and while he is on the lam, he bumps into Jerry, Bobby, and Dennis who are all at the girls' camp hoping to hook up.  Those three get away, but Timmy gets caught by the girl’s counselor. When Ike wants to know who else was there, Timmy remains silent.  The boys, ever grateful to Timmy, decide to take him under their wing.  When it is revealed that Timmy is afraid of the water the boys help him overcome this fear, by having him float in the bathtub.

 

 Later, Dennis supervises Timmy as he learns to do the backstroke.  Timmy’s parents are overbearing and kind of condescending; when Dennis tells them that he is adapting well to camp life, they are genuinely shocked by this development.  Timmy is played by Cary Guffey, who is best known for his role as Barry in Steven Spielberg’s Close Encounters of the Third Kind. Timmy has the strongest arc of out of the characters – he goes from being a socially awkward misfit to well liked, confident boy.  Guffey hits all of these beats perfectly.

Toby Kaplan (Matthew Shugoilo)

Toby Kaplan is probably the most one dimensional out of the all the boys – he is the quintessential overweight boy who is constantly snacking on candy. He also fancies himself a comedian; a “cross between Jackie Gleason, Oliver Hardy, and John Candy,” in his own words.  On parents’ days, he is allowed to do a stand-up set and completely bombs (his jokes center around the quality of the camp food).  Practically everyone has encountered the sort of kid in their laugh – the self-described “class clown” who is not nearly as funny as he/she thinks they are.  What I also like about this scene is that it underscores the generational gap when it comes to comedy – what is funny to the younger generation is often baffling to the older generation. I have encountered this many of times with my nephew and niece; they will be laughing their butts at some random YouTube video while I scratch my head in confusion.  There are probably a few kids who find Toby’s “camp food” jokes hilarious, but the parents find them to be lame – though, you do get the occasional “pity” laugh.  It probably doesn’t help that Toby is spoiled by his parents – his mother bakes him a going away cake. Later, when his parents pick him up at the train station, his mother bakes him a “welcome back” cake. 

Bobby Novak (Derek Googe)

 
Bobby is the star baseball player and a fierce competitor.  However, he is also incredibly protective of to friends – when Jerry, under the orders of Ike Dimick, sabotages Timmy during the swimming competition, Bobby takes notices and responds by giving Jerry a nice crack in the jaw.  It is interesting to note that while Bobby is a fierce competitor, he is willing to forfeit the Color War to find Timmy.  The games become secondary to him in the end.
There is an interesting dynamic between Jerry and Bobby – Jerry is the brains of the group while Bobby is the heart. While Jerry is looking for an angle to exploit, Bobby is willing to take people under his wing and offer them support.  He also doesn’t hold grudges – when Jerry apologizes for what he did to Timmy, Bobby forgives him and the two of them (along with Brian and Toby) set out to find the missing Timmy.  Individually they are both exceptional boys, but as a team they are unstoppable. 

Well, now that I have summed up the principal characters, it is time to talk about the plot. The first two third of the movie is more about character building.  It really takes its time setting up the principal characters and their relationships to one another, the third act is when the plot actually kicks in.  The movie gradually builds up to the “Color War” – a competition where the camp is divided into two teams (Blue and Gray) to determine which one has the vaunted “Pinewood Spirit.”  In a script there are few accidents, therefore it is no coincidence that the team colors (Blue and Grey) were also the colors of the American Civil War (the Union was Blue, the Confederates were Grey).  As a result of the Color War, a mini-Civil War breaks out between the boys.  As soon as the Color War begins, a rift develops between the five boys (Bobby and Timmy are assigned to the Blue team while Jerry, Toby, and Brian are on the Grey team).  The usual trash talking ensues, but Jerry takes it a bit further after he is chosen to be Ike’s right-hand man (Ike gives Jerry the meaningless title of sergeant in arms).  Ike is determined to win by any means necessary and realizes that Jerry is the perfect man to help him achieve his goal. At one point, Jerry has one of the younger kids spy on the Blue team (the boy walks into the Blue headquarters, tears streaming down his cheeks, and whining about how he had a horrible nightmare).  However, it's not enough for the boy to spy on the Blue team, he also takes pictures of their lineup.   

The lowest point is the psychological trick that Jerry plays on Timmy in a desperate attempt to win the swimming relay. Timmy has overcome his fear of the water (thanks to the efforts of Bobby and the boys) and has been slotted to compete in the swimming relay.  The night before the competition, Jerry tries to shake up Timmy by telling him a story about a boy (“Tough Break” Thompson) who drowned while competing in the relay.  This shakes Timmy a little bit, but on the day of the race he is on the verge of winning until Jerry shouts “Tough Break” to Timmy.  This has the desired effect and Timmy begins to panic, and Dennis has to pull him out of the water.  Bobby witnesses this and punches Jerry right in the mouth.   Jerry realizes he went too far and when Timmy runs away, he is determined to make amends.

While Poison Ivy does owe a lot to Meatballs, it is interesting that it avoids the whole “slob vs. snobs” theme that was prevalent in many comedies at the time.  In Meatballs, the main antagonist is a rival camp where all the wealthy kids attend.  The have all the best facilities at their disposal, so the movie takes on an “under dog” narrative, especially when Rudi (the ultimate underdog) beats his more athletic opponent in a foot race through the woods.  It is not only a triumph for Rudi, but for the camp as well.  In Poison Ivy, Timmy’s triumph at the end is a personal victory rather than a team victory.  He overcomes his fear of the water and confidently swims across the lake (while Dennis and company follow in canoe).  This miraculous feat gets the attention of the camp and they all cheer Timmy on as he completes his swim.  After Timmy’s inspiring display of the “Pinewood spirit,” Big Irv calls an end to the Color War. This infuriates Ike and he throws a temper tantrum, but no need to worry, he suffers the same fate that befell many cinematic bullies of that era – he is pushed into the lake.  It is a fairly hokey moment (it doesn’t help that Dennis tells Ike to “cool off” as he pushes him in the lake) but it serves its purpose – Ike is given his just comeuppance.

While there are many things I like about Poison Ivy, it does feature one my least favorite romantic comedy tropes – the boring fiancé.   It turns out that the biggest hurdle in Dennis and Rhonda’s relationship is her fiancé, a medical student named Martin.  When we meet Martin (at Parents' Day) he is a total bore – he talks incessantly about himself while neglecting Rhonda.  This is a fairly lazy gimmick screenwriters will often use – they will introduce a fairly unlikable character whose sole function is to make the slightly abrasive protagonist look good by comparison. When we are first introduced to Martin, we can’t help but ask, “What does she see in him?”  Then when there is an intimate moment between Dennis and Rhonda, we say to ourselves, “Sure, Dennis might be a bit annoying at times, but he is way better than that creep, Martin.” 

There is something that is a bit off about the casting of Martin:  Nancy McKeon was eighteen years-old during the production of Poison Ivy, but the actor, who plays Martin, Brett Rice, was in his mid-thirties. He is also made up and dressed in way that makes him look older; giving the impression that Martin is a middle-aged Boomer who is sucking the life out of Rhonda. 

 

 I hate this character because he is completely unnecessary, not to mention his very existence makes Rhonda seem like a flake.  She obviously isn’t with Martin for his winning personality; therefore, it must be financially related. 

In all fairness to Bennett Tramer, when he was writing the teleplay he had probably no idea who was going to be cast in the roles of Dennis and Rhonda, so the character of Martin was a kind of insurance – a way to trick the audience into believing that Dennis was Rhonda’s TRUE soul mate.  However, once Michael J. Fox and Nancy McKeon, two genuine actors, were cast in these roles, the filmmakers should have discarded this character.  While I like Michael J. Fox and Nancy McKeon, there are moments where the material really lets them down; I want to start a Poison Ivy drinking game, every time Rhonda utters the line “But I’m engaged” take a shot.  This how practically all of Dennis and Rhonda’s interactions end during the first half; he’ll get all flirty with her and she’ll remind him of her engagement to Martin. It gets to be fairly redundant after a while.  Thankfully, once Martin exits the movie, the two actors are no longer restrained by the clichéd writing. 

There is also a fun little nod to the 80s slasher movies in the form of Walter, the maintenance man.  Walter is somewhat of a recluse – he lives in the woods and always carries around a hatchet, which is covered in red stains.  This leads to the rumor among the boys that Walter is a serial killer. When Timmy runs away, the boys find his shoe and it looks like it is covered in blood.  They immediately assume the worst.  However, it turns out that Timmy is still alive, and Walter is not a serial killer, but an artist. He dips his hatchet in red paint and splatters it across a white canvas. He really digs modern art.  I can’t help but notice the similarities between Walter and Old Man Marley in Home Alone.  They are both old, reclusive men who are rumored to be serial killers.  Walter is always seen with his hatchet, while Old Man Marley is often seen carrying around his shovel.  Did John Hughes think of this movie when he wrote the screenplay to Home Alone?  Though, Old Man Marley has far more depth in Home Alone and there is an actual pay off to his storyline.  Walter is a throw away character – you could easily remove him from the story and it wouldn’t change a thing. Still, it is a fun homage to the many horror movies that were being made at the time. 

 

The best word to describe Poison Ivy is pleasant.  It is not a groundbreaking movie, but it is a pleasant hour and a half.  It coasts on the charm of its cast and has the occasional clever moment that prevents it from being monotonous.  It is interesting mostly as a relic of its era. Its initial premiere was in February of 1985; this was before post modernism had infected every aspect of our culture.  It is rather refreshing to watch these actors approach this material (which fairly silly at times) with the utmost sincerity.  If Poison Ivy were made now, it would be heavily steeped in irony. The actors would occasionally wink at the camera to let us know they are in on the joke. It would be absolutely dreadful.  How is the audience supposed to invest in a movie if the actors don’t believe in the material?

Amazingly, as of now, Poison Ivy has never been given an official DVD/Blu Ray release. It was released on VHS, but these copies are incredibly hard to find.  In an era where even the most obscure movie is often given the Blu Ray treatment, it is a baffling that this movie has fallen through the cracks.  Therefore, I highly recommend that either Shout Factory, or Criterion, obtain the rights to Poison Ivy and release a special edition Blu Ray. It should include a filmmaker’s commentary and have a detailed “making of” feature.  SOMEONE PLEASE MAKE IT HAPPEN!!!!!!!!!

Credits
Cast: Michael J. Fox (Dennis Baxter), Nancy McKeon (Rhonda Malone), Robert Klein (“Big Irv” Klopper), Adam Baldwin (Ike Dimick), Caren Kaye (Margo Klopper), Joe Wright (Jerry Disbro), Thomas Nowell (Brian Firestone), Cary Guffey (Timmy Mezzy), Matthew Shugiolo (Toby Kaplan), Derek Googe (Bobby Novak), Cameron Arnett (Steve Sawyer), Brett Rice (Martin Blair).

Director:  Larry Elikann
Writer: Bennett Tramer
Running Time: 96 min.