Kelly WandJosie and the Pussycats
October 17th 2006 06:49
“Man,” my son says. “This movie is just the best.”
Well, there’s a thought. “Citizen Kane”, “Apocalypse Now”, “Once upon a Time in the West” or “The Godfather”; what have they got that this doesn’t? Nothing. Dude is absolutely right. This movie really is the best film in the whole world, ever.
This film is a rarity. I have now watched it five times and I laughed as much last night as I did on the four previous occasions I viewed it. As soon as I stopped watching it, I went to the special features and watched all of them and you know how special most special features turn out to be.
I have never been a great aficionado of boy bands but, as soon as the film opens with Dujour playing “Back Door Lover,” I have to reassess my prejudices.
“Some people use the front door but that’s never been my way
Just because I slipped in backwards girl it doesn’t make me… hey!”
Few film makers have the talent to ruthlessly lampoon something and still capture everything that makes it exciting to the masses in the first place. Any understanding of popular culture requires a grasp of its inherent stupidity. You must be able to become passionate about the stupidest of things. To be truly cool, one must be able to make an absolute dickhead out of one’s self and still create the illusion that there isn’t a dickhead cell in your body. It is a thin line to walk but the truly cool make it look easy.
Writer and director team Deborah Kaplan and Harry Elfont make “Josie and the Pussycats” look absolutely effortless. More importantly, it has wit and brains to spare. If the thirty something ghost of Billy Wilder rocked back into Hollywood, this is the movie he would have made. Actually, if the thirty something ghost of Billy Wilder walked into town, Hollywood would probably have a new religion on its hands but, as usual, I digress.
Dujour have just discovered a peculiar track of subliminal messages embedded in their new CD. The company and the government are turning teenagers into consumer zombies. Wyatt Frame, A and R man for Mega Records, tells the pilot of the private plane in which they are travelling that it is time to “take the chevy to the levy”. But not before arranging the release of the commemorative box set. Arriving in the town of Riverdale by parachute, Wyatt must find a replacement act.
You don’t need me to tell you which band is going to get the gig, do you? Pop, punk princesses, The Pussycats are perfect for the position. But how will Josie react when she discovers she is nothing but a trend pimp?
There is one thing I have heard about this movie that I really hope is true. Every room in the film is decked out in corporate logos to the level of absolute mockery. I have heard that these companies were actually stupid enough to pay for product placement and logic tells me this is true. Without permission, the film makers would have been sued into the next century for trade mark infringements.
“Josie and the Pussycats” mercilessly claws away at mediocre corporate pop culture and the blandness of consumerism but never forgets the contradictory joy that a new disc or a new pair of shoes provides. It slags off cheap merchandising whilst making you want to buy the soundtrack album, the cat ears and all things Josie.
Besides, you like the Pussycats. If you met Rachael Leigh Cook, Tara Reid and Rosario Dawson, you’d want to hang. If you met the heels played by Alan Cumming and Posey Parker, you’d want to hang too. Ms Parker’s performance as Record Company Boss Fiona is one of the great screen villains. Imagine Cruelle de Vil as acid casualty Bond Baddie with better dresses. Few screen villains have their own dancers but Fiona does.
Additional credit should also go to unfortunately named Missi Pyle for playing the girl who is only there because she was in the comic.
Come on. Admit it. This film is fan fucking tastic. Everyone I talk to tells me how much they love it but they’re too embarrassed to admit it off of their own backs. When they compile their lists of what is cool, they’re all just trying to impress us by making the easy choices. Nobody picks the films that they think are going to make them look bad.
Let’s tell the truth here. When it came time to hand out the gongs, everyone cheered Paul Haggis’ “Crash” but who’ll stand up and point out that the script was overwritten to the point that it vanished up its own ass hole. I will! All the ends were tied up so tightly, I was surprised the cast didn’t suffocate. If you want to prove we are linked together you don’t underline the fact with a string of absurd coincidences.
When you saw “Brokeback Mountain” didn’t you just want to slap those guys around and say, “you’re gay, get over it.” “Citizen Kane?” It was his sled, bozo. “The Godfather?” Take the cotton out of your mouth, fatty. I can’t understand a word you’re saying. “Casablanca?” What is so romantic about convincing the girl she is still in love with you before handing her over to another man? That has got to be some sick, pervert inability to commit style shit, doesn’t it? Do I lie?
All right. No irony. Straight from the heart. “Josie and the Pussycats” is the best damned movie of all time. Only a heartless, corporate lackey could lay shit upon its magnificence. Ask me tomorrow and I’ll give you another answer. Pop, after all, should be ephemeral.
Well, there’s a thought. “Citizen Kane”, “Apocalypse Now”, “Once upon a Time in the West” or “The Godfather”; what have they got that this doesn’t? Nothing. Dude is absolutely right. This movie really is the best film in the whole world, ever.
This film is a rarity. I have now watched it five times and I laughed as much last night as I did on the four previous occasions I viewed it. As soon as I stopped watching it, I went to the special features and watched all of them and you know how special most special features turn out to be.
I have never been a great aficionado of boy bands but, as soon as the film opens with Dujour playing “Back Door Lover,” I have to reassess my prejudices.
“Some people use the front door but that’s never been my way
Just because I slipped in backwards girl it doesn’t make me… hey!”
Few film makers have the talent to ruthlessly lampoon something and still capture everything that makes it exciting to the masses in the first place. Any understanding of popular culture requires a grasp of its inherent stupidity. You must be able to become passionate about the stupidest of things. To be truly cool, one must be able to make an absolute dickhead out of one’s self and still create the illusion that there isn’t a dickhead cell in your body. It is a thin line to walk but the truly cool make it look easy.
Writer and director team Deborah Kaplan and Harry Elfont make “Josie and the Pussycats” look absolutely effortless. More importantly, it has wit and brains to spare. If the thirty something ghost of Billy Wilder rocked back into Hollywood, this is the movie he would have made. Actually, if the thirty something ghost of Billy Wilder walked into town, Hollywood would probably have a new religion on its hands but, as usual, I digress.
Dujour have just discovered a peculiar track of subliminal messages embedded in their new CD. The company and the government are turning teenagers into consumer zombies. Wyatt Frame, A and R man for Mega Records, tells the pilot of the private plane in which they are travelling that it is time to “take the chevy to the levy”. But not before arranging the release of the commemorative box set. Arriving in the town of Riverdale by parachute, Wyatt must find a replacement act.
You don’t need me to tell you which band is going to get the gig, do you? Pop, punk princesses, The Pussycats are perfect for the position. But how will Josie react when she discovers she is nothing but a trend pimp?
There is one thing I have heard about this movie that I really hope is true. Every room in the film is decked out in corporate logos to the level of absolute mockery. I have heard that these companies were actually stupid enough to pay for product placement and logic tells me this is true. Without permission, the film makers would have been sued into the next century for trade mark infringements.
“Josie and the Pussycats” mercilessly claws away at mediocre corporate pop culture and the blandness of consumerism but never forgets the contradictory joy that a new disc or a new pair of shoes provides. It slags off cheap merchandising whilst making you want to buy the soundtrack album, the cat ears and all things Josie.
Besides, you like the Pussycats. If you met Rachael Leigh Cook, Tara Reid and Rosario Dawson, you’d want to hang. If you met the heels played by Alan Cumming and Posey Parker, you’d want to hang too. Ms Parker’s performance as Record Company Boss Fiona is one of the great screen villains. Imagine Cruelle de Vil as acid casualty Bond Baddie with better dresses. Few screen villains have their own dancers but Fiona does.
Additional credit should also go to unfortunately named Missi Pyle for playing the girl who is only there because she was in the comic.
Come on. Admit it. This film is fan fucking tastic. Everyone I talk to tells me how much they love it but they’re too embarrassed to admit it off of their own backs. When they compile their lists of what is cool, they’re all just trying to impress us by making the easy choices. Nobody picks the films that they think are going to make them look bad.
Let’s tell the truth here. When it came time to hand out the gongs, everyone cheered Paul Haggis’ “Crash” but who’ll stand up and point out that the script was overwritten to the point that it vanished up its own ass hole. I will! All the ends were tied up so tightly, I was surprised the cast didn’t suffocate. If you want to prove we are linked together you don’t underline the fact with a string of absurd coincidences.
When you saw “Brokeback Mountain” didn’t you just want to slap those guys around and say, “you’re gay, get over it.” “Citizen Kane?” It was his sled, bozo. “The Godfather?” Take the cotton out of your mouth, fatty. I can’t understand a word you’re saying. “Casablanca?” What is so romantic about convincing the girl she is still in love with you before handing her over to another man? That has got to be some sick, pervert inability to commit style shit, doesn’t it? Do I lie?
All right. No irony. Straight from the heart. “Josie and the Pussycats” is the best damned movie of all time. Only a heartless, corporate lackey could lay shit upon its magnificence. Ask me tomorrow and I’ll give you another answer. Pop, after all, should be ephemeral.
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