My parents gave me a bunch of passes to SIFF for the birthday, so this year I’m gonna really try to make sure I see a bunch of movies. If you are reading this, that means you get the privilege of hearing me comment on movies that you may never hear about again. I might also see the next mega-hit cineplex-destroyer, but the smart money is on poignant coming-of-age tales from Portugal and Japanese robot-geishap-assassin movies.
First up was ‘The Ward’, the first feature in about a decade from John Carpenter.
My feelings about John Carpenter are complex. He made ‘The Thing’ – so I have to love him forever. He also created ‘Ghosts of Mars’ and is thus my sworn enemy. He is capable of greatness when he’s got worthy subject material. His direct and unfussy 70s pulp style is right in my wheelhouse, and despite ‘The Fog’ I am forever susceptible to his throwback charms.
‘The Ward’ is a disappointment. I wish I didn’t have to say that.
The real culprit is the screenplay. Without doing too much spoiling, you’ve seen all the salient parts of this movie. You’ve seen them recently. You could basically put Sucker Punch, Shutter Island and some randomly selected Scooby Doo episodes in a blender and make this movie yourself.
Your camera work wouldn’t be as good. You wouldn’t get the same hot young cast. Who are we kidding? You’d be lucky to get your sister to play the lead. Still, the guts of the movie would be damn near identical.
I don’t know if JC is staying out of the cinemas these days, but I wrestled with the rehashed story all the way through. It’s awful to see the twists so far ahead of their arrival onscreen. ‘The Ward’ has real visual moments sprinkled throughout, but the deliberate pacing becomes agonizing when you know the ending twist 20 minutes in.
That said, I’m happy that he’s still making movies, and I look forward to something better from him soon. Maybe a sequel to ‘Big Trouble in Little China.’
On a completely unrelated note – could ladies’ underbritches really have been that tall in 1966? the scene was brief, but I got the distinct impression that their northern limit was right around the armpits.
