The holiday-themed towns of Massachusetts

I'm such a sucker for themed viewings that I likely would have waited until this Thanksgiving to see Thanksgiving, which I missed last Thanksgiving. 

However, sometimes I surprise myself, and I ended up watching it this past Thursday night.

(At least it was on a Thursday, if we're looking for themes -- though that was unintentional.)

And as I was watching, I realized there was something familiar about it.

No, it wasn't that I had seen an abbreviated version of it back when I saw Grindhouse, back when Planet Terror and Death Proof were considered to be one movie, the two halves separated by fake trailers. One of which was Machete, which has already been made into a movie (a movie that got a sequel), and one of which was Eli Roth's initial pass at Thanksgiving. Without watching that fake trailer again, I don't know if his fake trailer had anything to do with the direction Roth ultimately decided to go with his movie.

Rather, it was familiar because I have seen other movies set in a small Massachusetts town that's famous for being associated with a particular holiday. 

That's right, Plymouth is the setting for Thanksgiving, as it contains Plymouth Rock, the location the Mayflower landed in 1620, disgorging pilgrims everywhere and ultimately destroying the future for Native Americans. Appropriately, it is a celebrated with all sorts of Thanksgiving-related hoopla, at least according to this movie. (I didn't check to see if the real Plymouth has a Thanksgiving parade and is lousy with oversized turkeys and people dressed as pilgrims, but it is easy to imagine that they do and are.)

The commercialization and celebration of Thanksgiving in Plymouth, whether it is real or imagined, gives it something in common with nearby Salem, which has the same sort of relationship with Halloween. 

As you would know if you have visited -- or if you have watched movies like Hocus Pocus and its sequel, or The Lords of Salem -- Salem, Massachusetts is all about selling the occult to tourists. There is a regionally famous witch trials museum that has a sort of "show" about the trials that uses light animatronics, and every second shop will sell you potions or Harry Potter stuff. At Halloween, this town goes crazy.

The fact that Massachusetts would have two towns that are closely associated with major holidays that fall during the second half of the year seems rather unlikely, and is nothing I had ever thought of before. It's not just that the towns are closely associated with the holiday, but rather, that no other town -- in the entire U.S. -- has more of a claim to either of these holidays than these two towns have. 

They're only about 60 miles apart from each other, at that.

Burying the lede here -- about halfway between these two towns is the town where I grew up, Lexington, which makes it all the more interesting for me personally. 

The funny thing is, while I know where Salem is because I've been there twice in the past 15 years, I actually had to look on a map just now to remind myself that Plymouth was actually south of Lexington, not north. Some Massachussetsan I am. (I think it should "Massachuten," but that does not appear to mean anything.)

Guess it's been a while since I've been there, or maybe it's just an indication of which of these two holidays I like more. I can tell you that while my Australian wife is always interested in stopping in Salem -- my not-yet-14-year-old son has been there twice, and we don't even live in that country -- she has never expressed any interest in seeing where the pilgrims landed, directly or indirectly leading to centuries of European imperialism and mass murder on that continent. 

As for the movie, a few inventive Thanksgiving-themed kills aside, I found it to be a fairly generic slasher flick where a serial killer wears a mask, and it is ultimately the last person you think it's going to be. Too bad Roth couldn't lean more into the silliness of the opening Black Friday riot at a big box store in which people are trampled to death in outrageously bloody ways. Or better still, have given us the grindhouse version of a serial killer movie set in the 17th century -- like, historically ambitious and deeply pulpy, all at once. 

Everybody's worst Thanksgiving

And now for a little tonal shift from yesterday's message of hope ...

If you just can't get into a head space to give thanks this year, and just want to tear it all down, just want to watch a movie that languishes in the apocalyptic misery of everybody's worst family Thanksgiving, you could do far worse than Krisha, the film I watched last night as a Thanksgiving-themed viewing. ("Thanksgiving"  was yesterday in Australia -- meaning it was Thursday, November 24th, otherwise known as one of the last days of spring. We did eat turkey, but it was a turkey dish I invented that features ground turkey, grilled onions, grilled peppers, Tabasco, chilli powder, canned tomatoes, tomato paste and a layer of broiled cheese over the top.)

Any number of Thanksgiving films look into the disasters that result from long-estranged family members reuniting, possibly against their will, for a late November feast, and maybe also an olive branch. But Krisha has a special caustic edge to it, an unwillingness to compromise its vision of the most pessimistic possible incarnation of that Thanksgiving gathering. And it doesn't accomplish this with ridiculous, over-the-top set pieces, like you might see in National Lampoon's Thanksgiving Vacation. No, this is just straight up human misery.

A lot of liberals are probably calling this their worst Thanksgiving ever. But at least it's not as bad as the one Krisha has in this movie.

I won't go too much into what happens, but I will warn you: Watch out. This is not some happy Thanksgiving viewing for the family. As the poster would probably suggest to you anyway.

One thing I did want to point out: The filmmaker, Trey Edward Shults, has cast almost entirely members of his family to play ... well, members of his family. He plays a central figure in the movie, and Krisha is played by his real aunt, named Krisha Fairchild. Strikingly, none of them really comes off as an amateur, and there's some real heavy lifting in the acting department, especially by Fairchild. I don't want to contemplate how closely this may have been inspired by something that really happened in his family, and whether any of these people are actually playing a version of themselves that's similar to the real version. More likely, he just wanted/needed to make the movie on the cheap, so he cast actors he could get to work for almost nothing. Whatever the case, their status as actual family members works in a number of ways, from the less important (they actually look like each other) to the more important (they have a preexisting relationship that informs their performances).

Don't think there's much chance you'll feel more hopeful about the world after watching this movie, but maybe that's the Thanksgiving you want to have -- despairing, and reveling in it.

If that's the case, boy have I got a movie for you.

Giving thanks to the movies

A couple days ago, I had a day when I didn't think about Donald Trump once.

It seems impossible to imagine. The wounds are still too fresh, the news still too prevalent, both in the media and on my Facebook news feed.

But as I was getting in to bed that night, I nonetheless said to my wife, "You know, I don't think I thought about Donald Trump once today." Hence ruining the unblemished Trump-free day I was having, but that's beside the point.

There's life after Trump, or there could be. There is, or there can be, or there will be more days when we don't even give the man a single passing thought.

And I don't know why I'm choosing to credit movies with that, except that it's a movie blog and I can't rightly write a Thanksgiving post on a movie blog unless it in some way incorporates movies.

So here's my way to incorporate it: Movies are my normal, and they have allowed me to keep a sense of normalcy during a two-plus-week period that has been anything but.

I'm thankful that whatever happens during a day full of head-shaking cabinet appointments, childish Twitter rants, revelations about ways the election might have been stolen by foreign interests, and reports of hate crimes against minority groups, at least by night, I still have the movies to whisk me away to another world.

"But Vance," you say, "just two weeks ago you said that movies were no escape. I'll save you the trouble and link to the post right here. How am I inserting a hyperlink into a question I am asking you verbally? Don't worry about it. You're missing the point."

Yes, I did say that. And yes, as hard as it was to believe that I would ever have a moment free from thinking about the orange menace we elected president (well, not "we" -- a bunch of crazy people that I hope does not include you), that hypothetical scenario has indeed transpired. Especially helpful in that regard was a movie like Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, cinematic escapism in its purest form. And indeed, on Sunday, escape myself away into it I did.

That wasn't the day I didn't think about Trump. I think it was Tuesday.

Most people of my political persuasion won't consider there to be much to be thankful about this Thanksgiving. A perfectly timed news story about a Jill Stein-prompted recount might give us a little hope, but in reality, we'll still know that nothing is likely to change the fact that Donald Trump is our next president. Blog posts giving thanks will be in shorter supply this year than usual, or at least, will carry a different tone to them, one that willfully tries to scrub away the horrors of the entire election season.

For me, though, I do see genuine reasons to be thankful -- good friends, loving family, health, the inspiration of good people intending to fight evil for a better world -- as well as more frivolous reasons, like the fact that I have movies.

Movies serve many functions for me, but one of their most positive is that they create a condition of ongoing optimism. As human beings, we thrive on what we have to look forward to next. If you're a political junkie, one that leans liberally, you may feel like you have nothing to look forward to. Or maybe you look forward to the challenge of ousting our new Republican overlords from office. But either way, your outlook, and what you have to look forward to, is conditional.

Movies, on the other hand, give us an unconditional sort of ongoing optimism. Even if you see a string of movies in a row you don't like, that doesn't tarnish that optimism. Even if you are dissatisfied with the trend of sequels and reboots, that doesn't tarnish that optimism. Each movies is a distinct case unto itself, and if you love movies, you know that there are hundreds and thousands of movies out there that you haven't yet seen and that you will love. The task is just to find the next one, and it's a task that you're forever on the verge of potentially accomplishing.

So thank you, movies, for giving me a sense of normalcy that involves a constant and ever-replenishing state of hope. I can apply that to my outlook on the rest of the world, even when it feels at its darkest.

And why did I include a picture of Barack Obama pardoning a turkey with this post?

Because that is my president, and I like to look at him, and I intend to cherish him as much I can while he still holds the title.

What a ______ web we weave

If I end up seeing Tangled this afternoon, it'll be either because of this awesome poster, or because there's nothing else whose start time matches up well with the time I get off work.

It won't be because Disney is trying to convince me that Tangled is macho.

But let's back up a step or two.

This year I hope to rekindle a tradition that was interrupted last year, which is going to see a movie after my early dismissal from work the day before Thanksgiving. I've done this most of the years of my working life, and when I miss a year, it just makes me want to come back stronger the next year.

Unfortunately, I don't know how "strong" this year will be. I'm not going to have the problem I had last year, when my boss forgot about the early dismissal until I had already worked almost my whole day. (Meanwhile, the guys who got in after me took that early dismissal and ran with it.) No, this year I made sure to get my departure time on the record -- 1:30, two hours early. Now my only problem is that there isn't that much in the theaters I want to see right now, at least not much that matches up well with that 1:30 departure. Because although I've gotten permission from my wife for one of the "guilt-free movies" she awarded me at my birthday, I would still like to get home to her and my son at a reasonable time, which means seeing something that starts within an hour after I get off.

Let's look at the contenders:

Unstoppable - Though I think it looks better than most Tony Scott films, I don't have a burning desire to see it, and the showtimes at convenient theaters are all either 1 o'clock or 3 o'clock.

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part 1 - Now that I've caught up on the last installment and will actually be able to feel oriented within the overall plot, this would be a great candidate if my wife and I weren't already thinking of seeing it together in two weeks, when my sister and her boyfriend are in town to meet our son. So I didn't even look up showtimes for this one.

Megamind - This has a perfectly time 2 p.m. showtime at a reasonably convenient theater, but I may let my friend's negative appraisal of it prevent me from prioritizing a theatrical screening.

The Next Three Days - Another case where I think I like the poster more than I'll like the film, and besides, all the showings are between 1:10 and 1:40.

Fair Game - This has a 2:25 showtime at the one theater near me where it's playing, and I'm somewhat intrigued by it, even if just to see the Bush administration painted in a negative light for old times sake. But running nearly two hours and starting nearly an hour after I get off, it'll get me home more than an hour later than I would on a normal release day. Still, it's a contender.

Love and Other Drugs, Made in Dagenham, Burlesque, Due Date, Faster, For Colored Girls - Nah, no thank you. Not right now, anyway.

Tangled - Maybe. It's got a 2:05 start time at a theater that's in a complex that will also allow me to get something to eat beforehand. Plus it's in 3D. Which will probably look pretty good in an animated movie.

A couple months ago, I would have laughed if you'd told me I'd consider seeing Tangled in the theater, let alone seeing it on opening day. Not because the animation doesn't look good -- it does.

No, I was originally annoyed by this film for two reasons: 1) It looked like a chick flick; 2) Disney was trying really hard to convince me it wasn't a chick flick.

And here's that tangled web I was talking about: If you're making a movie about Rapunzel, why not use the extremely recognizable title Rapunzel for the movie?

The answer is because Disney was worried that only little girls would go to a movie called Rapunzel. So, Tangled it was.

I'm not saying they're wrong. But there was definitely a time when it wouldn't have mattered. Just think about all the past Disney movies named after the heroine: Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs, Cinderella, Sleeping Beauty, The Little Mermaid and Pocahontas, to name the prominent ones and probably forget about several others. Then there have also been the movies where a female title character was matched up with a non-human male romantic interest, such as Beauty and the Beast and The Princess and the Frog, the latter as recently as last year.

But reading up on it a bit, I'm finding that the title change -- it once was actually Rapunzel Unbraided, and then just Rapunzel -- was the direct result of Disney's disappointment with the performance of the critically acclaimed Princess and the Frog. A worldwide box office take of $270 million was just not what Disney was expecting from that film, and their fear was that the emphasis on princesses had turned off young boys.

And so a new title and advertising campaign were born, and now the ads seem to focus a lot more on the male character, Flynn Rider, than the woman without whom the fairytale would not even exist in the first place. In fact, I remember seeing a trailer for it and thinking "Okay, this must be the long-awaited Rapunzel movie," and I only say "long-awaited" because Rapunzel seems like such an obvious candidate for a Disney movie that I couldn't believe it hadn't already happened. You can imagine my surprise when the name "Rapunzel" was not even uttered in the trailer, and the title Tangled came up. "Lame," I thought, immediately knowing what they were doing, and why.

In fact, even as I see a short promo for it now on moviefone.com, which is helping me compare and contrast potential start times, it says "Meet Flynn - He enjoys waterparks, exercise and bungee jumping," punctuating each of his "likes" with a short bit from the film. There's one for each character, I think, but the Flynn ones seem to emphasize the maleness of his pursuits.

So why might I be rewarding Disney with a decision to see the film, rather than boycotting it? Simple: the animation. It looks really good, and does not seem to owe a direct debt to another movie I can think of it. It's an intentional mix of the new and the old methods, which was part of its animation philosophy. It looks crisp and fun and I bet you it will look really great in 3D.

Oh, and I love the hell out of that poster as well.

Happy Thanksgiving, and if you're joining me in cutting out early and going to a movie today, here's hoping it's not a turkey.

Breaking with tradition

In the past six years, I've developed a little Wednesday-before-Thanksgiving tradition that was broken this year.

As a special start to what in some years was a four-day weekend, and some years (like this year) was not, I'd go see a movie after work on Wednesday afternoon. Since I was usually getting dismissed early -- as early as 11:30 at my last job, more like 2 o'clock at this one -- it meant I could see a movie and still have plenty of time to get whatever I needed for the next day organized.

I guess saying it was "broken" this year is somewhat misleading, considering that during that six-year period, I failed to do it twice -- 2005 (reason unknown) and 2007 (leaving that night to fly to Chicago). But every other year I came through: The Station Agent in 2003, Sideways in 2004, The Queen in 2006 and Religulous last year.

I was looking forward to it this year, with Precious as a possible target. But soon after I got in to work on Wednesday, I could tell it wasn't shaping up to be the kind of easy day I'd penciled in. In fact, I didn't even slow down all day, juggling ridiculously timed requests when I wasn't doing short work-related errands around town. I left at the normal time, 3:30, and never even got to figure out if there was a conveniently timed showing of Precious or any other movie.

I figured we'd at least watch a movie at home that night, since my wife and I had both stocked up at the library with the maximum three titles apiece, in addition to the couple other movies we each had sitting around from Netflix and Blockbuster. (Yes, our household has one account of each. Silly, I know.) But my wife wanted to starting clearing stuff off the DVR as early preparation for her three weeks out of the country at Christmastime -- I'll be in Australia, where she grew up, for a week less than that, as she both leaves before me and returns after me. So I acquiesced. I have to admit, it would have been hard for me to summon any sympathy for my movie cause -- I'd seen at least one movie a day for about week running.

But I did hope to outlast her that night and start something after she went to sleep, and I had the perfect candidate in mind: David Lynch's Eraserhead, which I'd never seen, which was one of my three library pickups. I knew my wife had already seen it, so I could watch it solo. And this kind of movie demands to be seen late at night anyway.

But she showed surprising stamina for a person who had slept fitfully the night before -- in fact, according to her, had not fully gotten to sleep until close to 5 a.m. When it was 10:30 and she said she still had another hour-long program in her, I feared I'd see no pre-Thanksgiving movie, either in the theater or at home.

I guess my own stamina was reasonably impressive as well, for a guy who started working at 7 a.m. that day. I did outlast her starting at about 11:30, which was enough to watch the first 30 minutes of Eraserhead. It was a bit of a gamble, as I didn't see any way I was supposed to get through a 100-minute movie starting this late at night. And true enough, as my eyes began closing despite the wild images that were penetrating them, I soon realized I'd either need to call it a night, or try a "nap." I love those "naps" we try to take at 12:15 a.m., somehow sure that we'll be able to close our eyes for just 20 minutes, and then be rejuvenated for two more hours of nighttime activities. But I did really hope to succeed this time out -- I was convinced that Eraserhead couldn't be nearly this eerie with my Thanksgiving morning coffee. The enthrallingly disturbing imagery and sound design just couldn't spook me as much in the bright morning light, could it?

But that's what happened -- I watched the rest of the movie before my wife awoke the following morning. And was still chilled as hell by it. So, another tradition broken: having to watch a creepy movie at night, because I didn't trust it to have the physiological impact I desired in the cold light of morning. Apparently, this shouldn't be a worry. I'm sure it helped that the shades were still drawn in the living room, and there was nothing else going on in the house to distract me or provide a semblance of daytime normalcy.

While we're add it, I guess I broke with another tradition as well: distrusting David Lynch. Ever since I saw Mulholland Drive, which most people liked, I have felt frustrated with the way Lynch doesn't feel obligated to providing catharsis or accountable to making sense. And even though I've seen Inland Empire since then, and inexplicably liked it a lot more even though it is arguably less accessible, I've still held that skeptical view toward Lynch. (I've also seen The Elephant Man since seeing Mulholland Drive, but that's a pretty straightforward movie.)

Eraserhead reminded me that you don't have to make perfect sense, or much sense at all, as long as the way you're not making sense is this visceral and gratifying. And I won't soon forget any of the images of this movie, each twisted and nightmarish metaphors -- the weird alien baby, the clumps of dirt and grass around Henry's apartment, the radiator lady with the jowly cheeks, the weird alien embryos that look like brains with tails, the pencil factory, the attempt to eat a chicken dinner with the in-laws. It's all etched in there, a disturbingly wonderful new part of my brain.

And then I went to slow-cook a bunch of yams for Thanksgiving dinner.

Sometimes, a tweaked tradition is an unexpected blessing.

A dearth of turkey movies

If you're a film fan, chances are you've seen plenty of turkeys. But you probably haven't seen plenty of films about turkeys.

That's because, as holidays go, Thanksgiving is less well represented in Hollywood filmmaking than Flag Day.

As I was thinking of ideas for something to write related to Thanksgiving, I decided on a top 10 list of films in which the Thanksgiving dinner is a central part of the plot. As it turns out, I could only find five that I'd seen.

See, the website I write for has labels for each movie, related to plots and themes, in order to help you find similar movies. So I hopped on the page for Planes, Trains and Automobiles and followed its Thanksgiving label to see what other Thanksgiving films hadn't occurred to me in my initial brainstorm. I found only two that I'd seen beyond the initial three that I'd thought of, and one of them isn't even a movie I remember having anything to do with Thanksgiving.

At first, this Thanksgiving blackout surprised me a bit. After all, Thanksgiving is the second most hyped holiday in the United States, and carries with it the most vacation days as well. Whereas most people get only a single day off for Christmas, most get two for Thanksgiving. (Not me -- I'll be here on Friday, but figure to have plenty of time to update my blog while doing almost zero actual work.)

But then it occurred to me why this is. Thanksgiving's aforementioned big brother, Christmas, is one heckuva bully, and doesn't want to give Thanksgiving any of its own time in the spotlight.

Quite simply, a Thanksgiving-themed movie is not a great commercial bet for a movie studio -- especially if that same studio has already had its Christmas movie out for three weeks. If you're trying to hype up Christmas, hyping up Thanksgiving at the same time doesn't really work. You could release the Thanksgiving movie a few weeks earlier than the Christmas movie if you really wanted. But given that most Christmas movies come out within two weeks after Halloween, you'd have to release the Thanksgiving movie sometime in mid-October. And Thanksgiving just isn't on people's radars at that point. Nor can you rely on Thanksgiving weekend itself as a good time for people to see Thanksgiving movies. Once you've hit the shopping frenzy known as Black Friday, Thanksgiving is forgotten, remembered only in the form of the Tums you're popping to quell your indigestion.

But in case you are interested in seeking out a Thanksgiving movie this year, here are my thoughts on and rankings of the five I've seen:

1) Planes, Trains and Automobiles (1987, John Hughes). Release date: November 25, 1987. The best Thanksgiving movie isn't even about the social dynamics at a Thanksgiving table, but rather, about the quest to actually get to that table. Perhaps that explains its release date, just one day before Thanksgiving that year. Whenever I catch a few minutes of this wonderful film on TV, it always reminds me fondly of John Candy. This year that fondness will be doubled, as this is our first Thanksgiving without John Hughes. My guess is that it'll be playing around the clock.

2) Pieces of April (2003, Peter Hedges). Release date: October 17, 2003. This indie features Katie Holmes as a flighty hipster trying to cobble together a Thanksgiving meal for her diverse, dysfunctional family. They went with that mid-October release date here, but since it received only a limited release, commercial factors were probably not a huge consideration. It's a flawed film, but has a lot of heart and some nice touches. This is what #5 on this list was probably going for when it failed so massively.

3) Scent of a Woman (1992, Martin Brest). Release date: December 23, 1992. This is the one I forgot had anything to do with Thanksgiving. Turns out, Chris O'Donnell's character is accompanying Al Pacino's blind colonel as a job over Thanksgiving to pay for his Christmas airfare home, and they travel to the colonel's brother's for Thanksgiving, with awkward and comic results. I liked this film fine at the time, but over the years have come to see it as a bit emotionally manipulative. Not to mention that Pacino's character, with his fondness for saying "Hoo-ah!," has become a cartoonish caricature of a cinematic icon. Seems a shame that this should be the only Oscar win for the formerly excellent Pacino.

4) What's Cooking? (2000, Gurinder Chadha). Release date: November 17, 2000. This is the Indian director's multi-cultural take on an American Thanksgiving (what other kind of Thanksgiving is there?), featuring a black family, a Jewish family, a Latino family and an Asian family. It shows the predictable strain of too many characters and too many plot points, plus hits high levels of melodrama at times, but has some nice moments as well. The film wouldn't have been on my radar at all except that it briefly features an actress I was sort of obsessed with at the time, who resembled my most recent ex-girlfriend.

5) Home for the Holidays (1995, Jodie Foster). Release date: November 3, 1995. With the talent that was gathered -- Foster directing, Holly Hunter and Robert Downey Jr. among the stars -- this should have been a good movie. Then why did I find it to be a train wreck of wacky behavior and dysfunctional cliches? This movie can't be as bad as I remember it being, but I really hated it -- I found it loud, shrill, and consistently unbelievable. Especially surprising given that I figured Foster would have a soft touch, rather than wielding a sledgehammer of tired tropes.

Thanksgiving-themed movies I'm aware of but haven't seen: The Myth of Fingerprints, Four Brothers.

Did I miss any? Let me know.

And have a great Thanksgiving.