BILL & TED FACE THE MUSIC

Stars: Keanu Reeves, Alex Winter, Samara Weaving, Bridgette Lundy-Paine, Scott "Kid Cudi" Mescudi, Kristen Schaal, Anthony Carrigan, Erinn Hayes, Jayma Mays, Jillian Bell, Holland Taylor, Beck Bennett, Hal Landon Jr., Amy Stoch and William Sadler.
Writers: Chris Matheson, Ed Solomon.
Director: Dean Parisot

Rating: ★ ★ ★ ★ ½

Balancing the silly, the spirited and the soul-enriching has been one of the great triumphs of the Bill and Ted films, thanks to the depth of understanding that stars Alex Winter and Keanu Reeves bring to the characters. Frankly, it is astonishing that the pair have slipped into the roles for the first time since 1991’s Bogus Journey and lost none of their empathy and chemistry for the Wyld Stallyns duo. While it is unlikely the production foresaw it while shooting, and it’s entirely likely most audiences won’t believe it until they watch it, but the ease with which the giggles and good will flows in Bill & Ted Face the Music make it exactly the film that 2020 needs right now.

Writers Chris Matheson and Ed Solomon have guided the giddy, goofball comedy/fantasy pics since Reeves’ Ted Theodore Logan and Winter’s Bill S. Preston Esquire first paired up in 1989 for director Stephen Herek’s feel-good sleeper hit, followed in 1991 by Peter Hewett’s slightly ‘stonier’ sequel (split by two seasons of a largely-forgotten animated series in 1990). In Face the Music, middle-aged Bill & Ted have somehow stayed married to their Princess brides (Erinn Hayes, Jayma Mays) and attained a degree of middle-class suburban status, yet they are clinging to rock-n-roll dreams that have clearly passed them by; any notion that they have written the song that will unite the world is lost on everyone but them.

Everyone that is, except their daughters Thea (Samara Weaving) and Billie (Bridgette Lundy-Paine), gender-swapped versions of their dads and each filled with similar visions of fame and no idea how to get it. Opportunity presents itself in the form of Kelly (Kristen Schaal), a time traveller from a future ruled by her mother The Great Leader (Holland Taylor), bearing news that Future Earth really needs that world-uniting song, like, by this evening, or time and space will collapse in upon itself and destroy reality.

The set-up gives Matheson and Solomon (cameoing as polite blue-collar trench-demons, if you look quickly) plenty of leeway to work over both the time-travel malarkey and follow-your-dream subtext with comic precision; a big plus is the addition of director Dean Parisot, a master of sentimental silliness with both Galaxy Quest (1999) and Fun with Dick & Jane (2005) on his CV. As with past instalments, there is much fun had with the co-opting of historical figures to fix very modern, even futuristic, problems; earning big laughs this time around are Jimi Hendrix, Louis Armstrong and Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, to name a few.

Of course, the film’s sweet-spot is in the casting. Not only with the return of Reeves and Winter, who clearly adore each other’s company (wait for the post-credit sequence for ultimate proof of that) and have a blast creating future versions of themselves to discover and ultimately dodge, but also in Brigitte Lundy-Paine, who nails a spot-on riff on Keanu’s ‘whoa’ persona, and the wonderful Samara Weaving, a super-sweet and fiercely protective mini-me version of Winter. Check out the original Excellent Adventure for some indication of just how precisely the actresses mimic and enhance the performances of Reeves and Winter at the corresponding age. Franchise service is paid with the totally worthy reappearance of William Sadler's scene-stealing turn as Death, denizen of the underworld and master of the 40-minute bass solo.

Here’s a spoiler alert (I mean, really? But, ok…) When the world-saving song drops and it sounds a little bit like an Arcade Fire album track, it doesn’t really matter; the message that the moment imparts is bolstered when viewed through the emotional climate of the world, circa September 2020. The narrative builds to an ending that shouldn’t hit as deep as it does, but the truth is, we need reminding of that which unifies us now more than ever. While a time-skipping 91 minute three-quel, 29 years on the boil, should not carry the weight of making the world a happier place, it suddenly finds itself doing so. And doing so most excellently.

GRIZZLY 2: REVENGE

Stars: Steve Inwood, Deborah Raffin, John Rhys-Davies, Deborah Foreman, Louise Fletcher, Dick Anthony Williams, Charlie Sheen, Timothy Spall, Laura Dern and George Clooney.
Writers: Ross Massbaum, Joan McCall and David Sheldon.
Director: André Szöts

Reviewed online via Monmouth Film Festival, Sunday August 16.

Rating: ★ ½

...or ★ ★ ★ ★ ★, depending on what you’re expecting when you decide to take on André Szöts sole directorial effort, Grizzly 2: Revenge. Smashed together by determined producer Suzanne C. Nagy from footage shot in 1982, this belated sequel to the ridiculous (and ridiculously successful) 1976 Jaws rip-off Grizzly is barely a film; truncated scenes are poorly dubbed and edited erratically, to vainly progress a threadbare narrative that never makes sense. But in the annals of ‘All-time Great Bad Movies’, where earnest acting in the service of unspeakable dialogue is prized, Grizzly 2: Revenge gains immediate respect.

“These kids never stood a chance” - Owens; “Poor dumb kids.” - Sheriff Nick Hollister (pictured, above; Steve Inwood and Deborah Raffin)   

Of course, the only reason to talk about this Frankenstein-of-a-movie is because it has existed in a rarified air of mystery amongst film nerds since production ground to a halt 46 years ago in Hungary. Nagy and the late Szöts (whose other notable credit was as co-writer of David Hamilton’s soft-focus arty 1979 skin-flick, Laura) had blown a huge chunk of their budget shooting a massive rock concert, the staging of which provides the background setting and an unnecessarily large percentage of screen time in the finished film. (Pictured, below; Laura Dern, as Tina, and George Clooney, as Ron)

“You got the Devil Bear!” - Bouchard, Grizzly tracker

No money was left to fix the troublesome animatronic bear nor, ultimately, complete the film; in one of the many wild stories associated with the shoot, it is alleged producer Joseph Proctor absconded with $2million from the budget. It would not be until 2007 that rumours began circulating that a 96 minute ‘workprint’ existed (the version reviewed here peaked at 78). In 2011, journalist Scott Weinberg wrote a piece for Screen Anarchy in which he recounts his experience watching what he calls one of his “Genre Geek Holy Grails”. Nagy decided 2018 was the right time to remaster the surviving footage and hack together the man-vs-nature sequel absolutely nobody wanted.

“Getting sour by the hour. Excuse me…” - Toto Coelo, all-girl band (Lyrics)

Grizzly 2: Revenge is set in motion when a group of hunters shoot two bear cubs and wound the matriarch; all this footage is video stock, not shot in ‘83 but sourced to give the narrative a kickstart. Jump to three young twenty-somethings, played by hungry-for-work young actors George Clooney, Laura Dern and Charlie Sheen (pictured, above), hiking the woods on their way to the outdoor concert, only to be offed by said grizzly (or a handheld cameraman, if the sequence is to be taken literally, as we never see the bear). One of the few joys on offer in Grizzly 2 is future-star spotting; sharp eyes will spot Game of Thrones’ Ian McNiece and (are you sitting down?) British acting great Timothy Spall.

“Maggie Sue!” - Drunk men around a campfire, while pinching each other’s bottoms (Lyrics).

The film settles into its predisposed ‘Jaws rip-off’ mode from then on, with Louise Fletcher’s hard-nosed corporate type mimicking Murray Hamilton’s ruthless mayor; instead of keeping the beaches open for summer, she demands the rock concert go ahead, despite there being a teen-eating beast on the loose. Out-of-towner sheriff Nick Hollister (Steve Inwood, acting from his moussed hair down,in the Roy Scheider part) and Bear Management expert Samantha Owens (Deborah Raffin, going full Dreyfuss in her defense of the bear) are forced to call on legendary bear-tracker and Quint archetype, Bouchard (the always-game John Rhys-Davies; pictured, above) whose idiosyncrasies, and there are many, include speaking of himself in the third-person.

“You haven’t seen what Bouchard has seen!” - Bouchard.

As they fight the occasionally-glimpsed killer bear day and night (often within the same scene), the film cuts back and forth to the concert, which is sometimes in full flight and sometimes still being readied (let’s assume the first department to go when cash got tight was continuity). Future ‘Valley Girl’ Deborah Foreman (pictured, below), playing the daughter of Sheriff Hollister, gets a job at the event and falls for a George Michael-type synth-pop star, complete with ultra-tight short-shorts in which he both performs and jogs (watched, but not attacked, by the bear, which seems odd in hindsight).

“This grizzly is huge, obviously powerful and probably enraged.”
- Samantha Owens, Bear Management Expert.

In true schlock-movie style, there are miraculously bad decisions made along the way that translate to priceless cinema. Personal favourite amongst them is actor Jack Starret (who played mean-spirited Deputy Galt opposite Sylvester Stallone in First Blood before he made this) calculates the financial benefits of double-crossing his mates while holding a rabbit, its expression at the absurdity of what’s happening the best animal acting in the film. That honour should have gone to the titular Ursus horribilis, but she gets no respect from the surviving footage. The denouement (more precisely recalling Jaws 2 than 1) is the final slap in the face for the anti-heroine, who makes no real impact on the concertgoers (imagine the carnage had she rampaged?!) and is reduced to the butt of a stupid final-frame joke.

Bound for cultdom, Grizzly 2: Revenge (also called Grizzly II: The Predator and Grizzly II: The Concert over the years) is the kind of bad film celebrated just for its very being, and one can’t begrudge the old girl that honour.

THE BANANA SPLITS MOVIE

Stars: Dani Kind, Finlay Wojtak-Hissong, Romeo Carere, Steve Lund, Maria Nash, Naledi Majola, Richard White, Sara Canning, Celina Martin, Lia Sachs, Keeno Lee Hector, Kiroshan Naidoo and Lionel Newton.
Writers: Jed Elinoff and Scott Thomas
Director: Danishka Esterhazy

Rating: ★ ★ ★

Fifty years after they made the furry, nonsensical, slapsticky debut as part of NBC’s Saturday morning roster, The Banana Splits return…in a splattery horror romp that’s about as far from the spirit of the old TV show as you can get. Not a bad approach, per se; little about the silliness of their dated, pseudo-psychedelic antics holds any sway today, no matter what ironic millenials and ageing Gen-Xers offer up as evidence of The Splits’ enduring appeal. So if a reboot of the property was going to happen it might as well be in this all-or-nothing mutated form. Just that…well, maybe director Danishka Esterhazy and scripters Jed Elinoff and Scott Thomas didn’t go hard enough.

Perky tot Harley (Finlay Woitak-Hissong) may be the only fan of The Banana Splits under 40, but a fan he is and a devoted one at that. When his mom Beth (Dani Kind) scores family tickets to a taping of the show, birthday-boy Harley envisions a life-altering meeting with his hero, Snorky, and the other Splits - Drooper, Fleegle and Bingo. But a new network regime decides to cancel the show; Harley’s birthday outing will be the final episode.

No self-respecting Banana Split will give up their studio gig without a fight, no matter how decrepit and dusty the venue appears (and it often appears more like a silent-era horror-film laboratory than even the most rundown backlot space). With their circuitry rewired (to paraphrase Yaphet Kotto, the Splits are goddamn robots), the four wacky friends up tools, including an oversized, colourful hammer and the iconic ‘Banana Buggy’, and begin the bludgeoning. Standing in the way momentarily are dickish stepfather Mitch (Steve Lund), entitled internet creep Thadd (Kiroshan Naidoo) and pushy stage dad Jonathan (Keeno Lee Hector), whose determined to turn his daughter (Lia Sachs) into the next Sour Grapes Bunch starlet.

The Banana Splits Movie is essentially a silly riff on Michael Chricton’s 1973 theme-park-gone-bad thriller Westworld or, perhaps more accurately, The Simpsons parody episode, ‘Itchy & Scratchy Land’. When the Splits go off-program, their eyes glow red, just as the robot-mouse and robot-cat did in that Season 6 Episode 4 classic. Having shown her skill as a stylish storyteller with the dystopian sci-fier Level 16 (2018), Canadian Esterhazy nails the mood and staging of some solid kills, but isn’t given much to play with in terms of character or narrative by Elinoff and Thomas.

One senses there is a bit more sly commentary to be made about the modern entertainment industry and its regressive reliance on pop-culture brands, or how clinging to the idols of our childhood is not the healthiest of traits. The Banana Splits Movie toys with those themes but doesn’t dive deep. Which is fine, given this is a film about 60s kids-TV characters on a killing spree, a goal it achieves admirably. But it would have been more heartening if the resurrection of The Banana Splits had been in the service of some slightly more resonant establishment cage-rattling, the kind synonymous with the group’s hippy culture origins.