Movie #4: "Re-Animator" (1985)

There's binge watching and there's what I'll call "bender watching". You gulp down half a season of "Master of None" in a day, that's binge watching, and people have already stopped chuckling or expressing a "what a ridiculous thing to say" face when talking about it. Bender watching goes past staring at the screen. It's a obsession that takes over, not just consuming the media in question, but seeking out any tangential media that's related to the object of your bender. And it can last months or even years. I did this with "The Sopranos"; besides the DVDs, I collected mountains of books, posters, custom mix CDs full of main songs and background music from the episodes and even that godawful video game. Between the fourth and fifth seasons, my bedroom wall had a collage of New York Post Page Six photos of the set and as the show was ending, a college friend and I briefly worked for a paparazzi we met online, selling him photos and video of Phil Leotardo getting whacked. We later met the creator, David Chase. Premiere & finale baked ziti parties, online message board discussions, creating an interactive website for a class in high school that detailed the circumstances of each whacking. But worse, any mention of media through dialogue on the show was fair game. After Tony makes a dumb joke by quoting the film "Blackboard Jungle", I bought the DVD and it sat on my shelf for years, never watched, almost shameful to acknowledge the reason for purchase. In the depths of that six year bender, I was so high off the effects of a television show that I tried to mimic it's presence during the time it wasn't on my screen. Life was Sunday night at 9 on HBO and everything else was the distraction.

I had a dalliance with the film "American Beauty" in middle school. It might've lasted a month or two. My buddies and I would have sleep-overs at each other's houses, mainly staying up late for repeats of "Real Sex" (sleep be damned when there's nipple potential!). One night, we stumbled upon the last half of "American Beauty" where Mena Suvari ends up topless. Being the one with the HBO subscription, I swore to keep an eye on the TV guide and tape the next screening, so we could thoroughly investigate further instances of tits. When that time came, I watched the film in full and was surprised by how much I enjoyed it (or maybe in my quest to cement my identity as a "movie guy", I convinced myself it was good). Something about it clicked and I explored further, eventually picking up the DVD and the screenplay in book form. The existential nightmare of suburbia went over my head but I liked Kevin Spacey's performance, Ricky's videotape collection and the desire to self-improve never goes away. It was a light affair, nothing too serious or expensive, and I haven't seen it in years.

So what the hell does this have to do with "Re-Animator"? It brings me back to the habits of bender watching, as there's two brief references to the film, where Lester and Ricky laugh about a severed head going down on a woman. I never sought out the film back then but the title has always stuck in my mind, as well as the scene in question. And in trying to expand my scope of the genre of films I review here, I gave it a go.

After a few minutes, I knew this was going to be the distraction while I tried to live my life. Kept it on in the background as I did laundry, cooked and cleaned my place. Saw the scene referenced in "American Beauty", admired the schlocky independent nature of it all yet realized it was one of those movies you had to see it in theater with a crowd who's on the same wave length. Was this worth the time tethered inside so I'd finally "get" a reference in full, one that has no bearing on the plot and was probably just one of a hundred options the screenwriter could've put in that scene? Or have I finally cracked the code of "American Beauty", as "Re-Animator" deals with the perils of bringing dead people back to life, a clear parallel to Lester Burnham's journey from depression to self-actualization that ends in bloodshed, holy Christ the foreshadowing, where's that DVD, this changes everything --

Wait, "American Beauty" beat Michael Mann's "The Insider" for Best Picture? Fuck that plastic bag.