Single White Female

 

1992

Dir: Barbret Schroeder

 
This probably isn’t the right film to recommend to my sister as she looks for new flatmates…

Single White Female is so sexually gritty and aware of the flesh that it almost feels like a David Cronenberg film, and that can only be a good thing.

After breaking up with her cheating fiancé, Bridget Fonda’s Allie decides it’s time she moved on and got a new roommate. The winning candidate ends up being the sweet, meek and innocent Heddy, played with typical visceral convulsion by Jennifer Jason Leigh. However, as you can probably guess, Heddy is anything but the gentle lamb she appears, and soon her obsession with Allie becomes much more serious than just borrowing her clothes and copying her haircut. Not that women would think things could get much more serious than that; I know how seriously they take their Barnets.

The film that Single White Female most reminds me of is, unsurprisingly, Cronenberg’s Dead Ringers from 1988, his disturbing exploration into the lives of twin gynaecologists. Again, it is no big shock that the film’s director is the Franco-Swiss artist Barbret Schroeder, who learned his trade under the serial mind-fucker Jean-Luc Godard. Thankfully Schroeder utilises the more positive aspect of French cinema in Single White Female, that being it’s naked - literally and metaphorically - depiction of sexuality and suffering.

Leigh is so thoroughly tragic and convincing in her role that the inevitable ‘slasher’ type conclusion feels horribly contrived and unnecessary. Her performance has none of the scene munching of Sharon Stone from Basic Instinct, or even the downright psychoticness of Kathy Bates in Misery. Heddy is a fractured, fragile young girl who you can’t help but sympathise with, especially next to the sleek, sexy Allie, who seems about as approachable as a supermodel with a machete. You can’t help but slightly agree when Heddy calls her “fucking weak” for going back to her sleazy boyfriend.

But the ending is silly, and there are clichéd ‘Bunny Boiler’ moments that would make Glenn Close wince - a note to all lovers of bog roll out there, the Andrex puppy doesn’t not fair too well in this flick.

Despite that, Single White Female is still handled with enough visceral care, and still provides two gripping performances to help it stand at least a stiletto heel above the competition in these kind of psychological horror thrillers.

Just don’t be surprised, for all the geezers out there, if, after seeing this film, the next time you wake up to find an attractive woman sucking your cock you absolutely shit yourself. You have been warned, chaps.

**** / *****

"I guess these boots weren't made for walkin'."

Up

2009

Dir: Pete Docter and Bob Peterson

 
No one brings a tear to the eye quite like Pixar. They recently had grown men reaching for their tissues during the brilliant Toy Story 3, and they have done in plenty of times before. But whilst previously the eye floods have been stimulated by the traumas of plastic, furry and lately robotic characters, Up is the first film by Pixar to feature largely human lead characters, and wouldn't you know it, they had me sniffling like a hay fever sufferer at the Chelsea Flower Show.

From directors Pete Docter and Bob Peterson, Up is the tale of old Widow Carl Fredricksen, who, following the death of his beloved wife, decides he is going to live out the adventure they always dreamed of and move their house to the fabled Paradise Falls in South America. And when I say move their house, I mean it quite literally, as Carl’s talents as a balloon salesmen come in handy, flying around the world in a colourful contraption right out of the Roald Dahl James and the Giant Peach playbook. Unfortunately for Carl, intrepid young Wilderness Explorer (basically a Scout or Cub to us Brits) Russell decides to tag along for the ride, bringing with him more trouble than our elderly hero had planned on.

Let’s get one thing straight, the opening of Up is absolutely phenomenal. It follows the relationship of Carl and his wife Ellie from childhood right through to old age, and it is one of the most heart warming and yet heartbreaking sequences you will ever see. Pixar are like the Beethoven (the composer, not the bloody dog) of the cinematic world when it comes to emotion; they hit all the right notes. Up is uniquely special in their brilliant catalogue due to the tears being pushed for right at the very start of the film. If that isn’t talent, if that isn’t the sign of a group of filmmakers at the top of their game, then I don’t know what is. Forget about building up an emotional attachment to these characters, we’re just going to have you weeping within the first two minutes. It’s a wonderful achievement, and it makes the rest of the film seem like an absolute blast. With the gut wrenching opening, it’s impossible not to root for Carl in his mission to live out his wife’s lifelong dream, and even the token American kid becomes enjoyable, as his youthful oafishness plays so energetically off the cranky old protagonist who we know from the opening credits was once as wide-eyed and full of life himself.

The ‘talking’ dogs are a nice idea that could possibly have been explored further, and Christopher Plummer’s menacing turn as Carl’s not-so-perfect hero Charles F. Muntz brings that sinister quality that Pixar needs from their villains; the character that always seems good to begin with, until their true colours are revealed.
Up might not be, uh, up there with the Toy Story trilogy, or even the likes of recent efforts such as Wall-E and Ratatouille, but as far as I’m concerned Pixar can do absolutely no wrong, and Up is a worthy addition to their untouchable anthology of excellence, and a genuinely deserving recipient of Pixar’s first ever Best Picture nomination at the Oscars. It’s a crying shame it didn’t win.

**** ¼ / *****