"This is the one. This is the one I'll be remembered for."

Last night I had a fantastic dream. Remember the lovely shot from R+GaD I found? Well - I dreamed I saw the scene it had been taken from. It was wonderful! I also, for a change, dreamed I was watching The Usual Suspects - although I jolly well hope the film is a tad more logical than that. When I say it meant no sense, I mean it in a Hitler-reincarnating, sand dunes, tricycles and bear costumes way. Though Gabriel Byrne, as I dreamed him, was pretty good looking.

And now for the review. It's one of those reviews where I'm still slightly overbowled, and hence my critical powers are...just forgive me if this comes out like the garbled rantings of a nutty mind.

Ed Wood

Ed - I direct, produce, write and act.
Kathy - Nobody does all that...
Ed - Two people do. Me and Orson Welles.

Oh the irony. Orson Welles, "best director ever" (reputedly, as I've never seen any of his films), idolised by Edward D. Wood Jr. "worst director" (ditto) in this wonderful biopic, the title of today's post, his awestruck and loving comment about his masterpiece, Plan 9 from Outer Space, reputed worst film ever.


Ed himself is great! He has this naive love of the movies, he really deserves to do well through sheer enthusiasm. He mouths along to the actors, and you do get the feeling he'd do anything for his films. The way his face falls when Criswell tells him it's all an act...Plus, he has a great pair of sunglasses. He gradually picks up a gang of oddballs and misfits (washed up stars, Swedish wrestlers, looney fake psychics) who help him out. Most of all, I was really touched by Ed and Bela's friendship. I thought it was so sweet. Even though it looks a bit like he was exploiting Bela's fame to get his film made, he genuinely did want to make a hit to save his friend.


Apart from Danny Elfman's absence, from the first frame the audience are plopped straight back into Burton-ville - creaky houses, rain, tombstones, Johnny Depp...it's a feeling that actually lessens during the film, though perhaps I just stopped noticing it. It's very well done, though if you thought Tim Burton had a thing for making wacky films...well, you ain't seen nothing yet. The whole thing is done in the style of a bad B-movie - black and white, lightning all the time - it's wonderful.

You know, when Ed first mentioned the transvestite thing to the producer, I thought he was lying to get the job. Oh no...and when I say this film is played totally straight, I mean it. There's not a single "joke" in the traditional sense. How it managed to be so hilarious I don't know. There are literally too many great laughs to count.

Pretty much everyone in here is worth a mention. Both blonde, angora-wearing girlfriends are great in their own way; Bill Murray sparkles (literally) in the few scenes he's given; and I've mentioned Bela, right?

I felt a lot of this film very personally. I've been feeling miserable about my own film career (or lack thereof) for the last few days and this...well, touched a nerve. Especially when my father mentioned "this lot makes your crew look professional" during the octopus sequence* That may be why I was crying at the end. Not crying with laughter, crying and laughing simultaneously (along with exclaiming "oh my God I don't believe it..." in disbelief.)

Best scene? Oh, Criswell's introduction. Possibly. Or the scene where a colour blind assistant in this black and white movie is asked to pick between a red and green dress. The running angora joke. The "isn't he dead?" joke. You can't really single one bit out. I've been overcome with the urge just to post quotes from imdb.

There are a lot of people who won't like this film. They'll get offended by the cross-dressing, they won't find the jokes funny, they don't know enough about the film industry. I'm not at all surprised it bombed at the box office. It just screams "cult classic". But I loved it and I'm sure there are others who'll adore it's entirely mad pot pourri of loons.

This is the third film this year I haven't dared to rate, along with Withnail & I and Monsoon Wedding. Because you simply can't judge them by "normal" standards.

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Final word: until yesterday, I was the only person of my age in the country who did not know how many days until the results came out, and was not going to fret about it. Was - it's six days, and I am now petrified for a good result. And yeh, it's not out of concern for my future career (seeing as [insert famous director] never needed great GSCEs) - how did you guess. The target is 5 As and 5 A*s, not including art in which I can get whatever I like. The reward? This. Which is why I am now counting the MINUTES until next Thursday, and positively killing myself from anxiety.






*if you missed the significance of that, me and my friends re-shot Fellowship of the Ring over the last four years. It's actually pretty darn good to say we had a cast+crew of seven (one of which never turned up on set, one of which had a fit if she had to act, and the rest of which just weren't very good...), no mountains, rivers or armies. Anyway, that particular moment was a sore choice to pick on as well. Five words: The Watcher in the Water. Stuffed green tights and some very selective shots. Watching movie career sink into pool like undead octopus...