|
I have always felt Jason and Freddy, those twin shining stars of Hollywood, to be alone in their mastery of and dexterity with that most elusive of crafts, the thespian craft. So you can only imagine my excitement and delight upon learning of the soon-to-be-released Freddy vs. Jason, a film that should forever alter our preconceptions of the level of power and tenderness we can expect from cinema, in much the same way Boys and Girls did not three short years ago. I deduced from the the film's title that the premise would somehow pit our heroes against one another. This left me perplexed but intrigued. On one hand, it would pain me deeply to see the two fight. "Stop!" I might say, coming between them, perhaps mere seconds before blows rained. "This is madness!" I might add, pointing out the obvious for the benefit of two men temporarily clouded by that most violent of rages, the thespian rage. On the other hand, what a wonderful opportunity for both to flex their creative, as well as toned, sinewy, muscles; to show the world once and for all the Freddie and Jason that I see, nightly, as I gaze up at the Boys and Girls poster on my ceiling. Even the subtle change in the spelling of Freddie's name in the title (Freddy? Brilliant, and bravo) clearly betrays the months spent in ponderous discussion with director Ronny Yu, doubtless searching for the true nature of the character and coming up with an adventurous new persona. Jason's willingness to bare his soul, on the other hand, to share his heart freely and openly with the audience, is apparent in his decision not to change his own name by a single letter — as if to say, "I am me. Love me for who I am, or love me not." Brave, sweet Jason. I have to admit that I did not watch the trailer right away. No, I waited patiently, though I thought of it in all my spare moments, knowing that when time was right to watch it, I would just know. I did. The flutter in my heart, the sudden shortness of breath, the beads of sweat on my brow and rank perspiration gathering in other parts of my body told me that today would be that day. I could hardly work. I sped through my mundane tasks — only putting on one shoe when I dressed for work, barely pausing for lunch, pushing an old man out of my way on the escalator, barely pausing for my second and third lunches. I paused briefly from my anticipation to mark August 15, the film's release date, in every calendar near me — the one on my desk, the one hanging on the wall, my boss's Palm Pilot, over the picture of my co-worker's wife. This wasn't even really a calender, but since he looks at it all the time, I reasoned he could act as a failsafe reminder system in the event that my existing calender technology collapsed on or near August 15. Finally the moment I'd been waiting for arrived. With the sombre and practiced movements of a priest conducting Mass, I locked my office door, loaded the trailer, removed and neatly folded my pants, and pressed play with giddy nervousness. As the trailer began, I could hardly contain the rush as my anticipation released and my hitherto pent-up emotion came gushing forth. Luckily, I didn't get any on the screen, my view unobscured. And that's when everything changed — when my world began to crumble and the bright sky of my psyche dimmed to a blackness darker than night, or a piece of paper really heavily drawn on with black felt marker (an activity I performed several times following the viewing). It all began innocently enough: a little slip on Freddie's and Jason's birth dates. A fairly minor slip, really. Everyone knows they weren't born in 1980 and 1984, but mistakes like that can happen to anyone, I guess. But then we are shown images of terrified girls running and screaming, a little girl with bandaged eyes, fire and destruction. Now, I salute such a brave and adventurous film choice for both of them, but at the same time I was worried how a light-hearted battle of the sexes and consequent romance would play out in front of such a horrific backdrop. One of the women, who I suspect will play the pretty love interest for Freddy (a reporter sent to get the scoop on his character, perhaps, or maybe a customer at the pet shop he works for who can see past his shy facade to the sensitive hunk underneath), runs around in the trailer half-naked, shrieking her brains out whenever Freddie approaches. Now, I would be dissappointed if there wasn't a little repulsion between the couple at first — repulsion that slowly melts away to deep friendship, then passion, and then, dare I say it, an adorable misunderstanding that almost splits them apart. Still, having not seen the film, I put forward that she overdoes it a little. She can shrink away from his pursuit, of course. But it'd be nice to see a little chemistry too. Instead, there's just a lot of running and screaming. Then again, it's hard to blame her. That brings me to the other adventurous choice of the two leads that had me scratching my head: in Freddy vs. Jason, I was shocked to find two of Hollywood's brightest, trimmest, most sexsational stars horribly disfigured throughout the trailer. Dashing, smouldering-eyed Freddie is now burned beyond recognition (maybe looking for a girl who's willing to see beyond that to the person underneath). Worse though is cute, humble Jason, who is mangled so badly he now wears a mask — the depression from the incident apparently having also brought on an eating disorder, as Jason seems to have put on 80 pounds and grown a foot and a half (tragic and not sexy).
I hope this is the case: Jason and Freddie have never let me down yet, and I'm positive the full-length version of Freddy vs. Jason will be their most comedic and romantic vehicle yet. I suspect from the many fight scenes depicted in the trailer, for instance, that Jason and Freddie will be confronting one another throughout. Perhaps over the same girl? I'm guessing yes. As for the six other girls shown in the trailer, fleeing through forestland in the darkness in various states of undress, it's harder to place their role in the movie (at a guess, they might be Jason's sisters, and the cause of the big misunderstanding that will lead to relationship troubles?) Until the August 15th release date, I guess I will have to remain in suspense. Based only on the trailer alone though, I must admit a single tear fell from my cheek, landing on the floor in the perfect shape of one Billy Crystal.
RATING:
|
Ever since
2000's Boys and Girls — a modern classic described modestly
by critics as "When Harry Met Sally...for teens" and
(by me) as "the most brilliant, touching film ever to grace the
cinema... for teens" — I have been anxiously awaiting the
project that would once again pair Freddie Prinze Jr. and Jason Biggs.
Still,
to watch them remain in character, and continue on with the film they
had set out to make, brought warmth and hope to my heart. Channeling
their anger and frustration to make their performances all the more
real is evidence of an actor's dedication to a role, a dedication in
evidence throughout. In fact, I hate to say it, but there is perhaps
a little too much dedication. To watch both actors turn their
rage at their disfigurement on an unsuspecting cast had me worried that
their cries for help were perhaps too barbaric to be sympathetic. Again,
I haven't seen the film — I don't doubt that in the feature length
film, it makes a lot more sense why Freddie tries to eat his girlfriend's
face off by morphing ghost-like out of a wall; perhaps when I see the
scene in its proper context, it will be as touching and romantic as
the filmmakers intended. Yet to watch the trailer itself is to wonder
how the two leads will ever manage to win the love interests' hearts
with this kind of behavior.