RETROSPECT: The Many Faces of Jim Carrey

I'll never forget the first time I saw the name "Jim Carrey". It was a T.V. commercial for a movie in early 1994. But the second time I remember seeing that name forever cemented it in my memory. 

I was eight going on nine, at a babysitter's house, when the same movie was playing on VHS. I was sitting close to the T.V. when the opening scene of footsteps walking towards the camera in slow-motion came up, before panning up to reveal a goofy UPS postman, the name Jim Carrey stamped against it. 

The movie was Ace Ventura: Pet Detective. The rest was comedy history. 

Out of any other leading actor in comedy at the time (Robin Williams, Mike Myers, and Adam Sandler come to mind as well), Carrey was the one who made me love comedy, and who influenced me the most in making people laugh, whether through imitations, physical slapstick, or various facial expressions.

I looked forward to any new film of his from there on, sometimes much to my parents' dismay. And although I'm a lot more discerning these days regarding some of his more crude comedy choices (close fans and filmgoers will know what I'm talking about), and despite some controversial headlines the actor-comedian has made in some recent years (particularly his role as a political cartoonist, as well as his worldviews), he remains an influential figure in film and in comedy, and has proven more versatile than people give him credit for. (His other memorable roles include a shape-shifting superhero, an enigmatic Batman villain, a psychotic cable installer, a compulsive fibbing lawyer, two Dr. Seuss characters, Scrooge, and even Andy Kaufman.)

His initial characters showcased his physical and energetic abilities in making people laugh (like the deranged Fire Marshall Bill on the Wayans' sketch comedy series In Living Color), while others displayed real thought and perspective, if divisive and conflicted at times. (Nowhere is this latter example best discussed or expressed than in the 2017 Netflix documentary Jim and Andy, which chronicles Carrey's behind-the-scenes drama and preparation in playing Andy Kaufman in Milos Forman's 1999 film Man on the Moon, while also juxtaposing Carrey's life with that of the late controversial comedian.)

So, in honor of the 25th anniversary of Carrey's breakout year in 1994, here is a look back at some of his most unforgettable roles (there are so many, to be honest, but here are those that really stand out), and proof that there will only ever be one Jim Carrey, rubber face and all. As the famous pet detective's tagline reads,

"He's the best there is. (Actually, he's the only one there is.)" 

"Make 'Em Laugh"

Ace Ventura: Pet Detective (1994)

Again, these earlier films were a showcase for Carrey's unique, outrageous, and physically (or facially) expressive brand of comedy. Ace Ventura (reportedly influenced by birds a la Anthony Hopkins influenced by reptiles for Hannibal Lecter) was the stepping stone, with his facial expressions, impressions, wacky antics (who could forget doing an "instant replay" in "super slow-mo," complete with black boots and a pink tutu), unforgettable one-liners, and over-the-top humor, including (pardon me) talking through his rear end. With this first of three collaborations with first-time director Tom Shadyac (they later collaborated on the 1997 legal comedy Liar Liar, and the 2003 spiritual comedy Bruce Almighty), Carrey has stated his intent was to make fun of the "leading man," as an animal sleuth on the case to find the Miami Dolphins' missing mascot. Carrey reprised the role the following year (a career decision he reportedly regretted) for the more over-the-top and hysterical sequel Ace Ventura: When Nature Calls.

The Mask (1994)
Mild-mannered bank clerk Stanley Ipkuss dons an ancient mask with the powers of the mischivous Norse God Loki (long before Tom Hiddleston immortalized said character in the Marvel Cinematic Universe) and transforms into a shape-shifting "love-crazy, wild man." Considered by many, in retrospect, as "the original Deadpool" (with his fourth wall breaks and pop culture savvy), The Mask was an unlikely success in the comic book-to-film medium (following Warner Bros' Batman and New Line's Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles). Compared with the more violent and horrific source material (no joke), the movie version is light-hearted, but maintains a dark and retro atmosphere. Carrey's wild and crazy antics are brought to additional life by revolutionary visual effects that still hold up courtesy Industrial Light & Magic, as an homage to Tex Avery cartoons of the 1940s. One of the first movies I ever remember learning about VFX, and perhaps the best example of a human cartoon.

Side note: the color green played other subtle yet key roles for Carrey when he later portrayed the Grinch (the 2000 film directed by Ron Howard. with award-winning makeup by Rick Baker) and comic book characters the Riddler (1995's Batman Forever) and Colonel Stars and Stripes (2013's Kick-Ass 2, another career decision Carrey reportedly regrets).

Dumb and Dumber (1994)

As Lloyd Christmas, Carrey struck up a golden comedy duo with versatile actor Jeff Daniels (as Harry Dunn), as two dim-witted best friends on a cross-country quest to return a stolen briefcase to a beautiful woman, in one of the funniest (and most off-color) comedies ever made. This brilliant on-screen chemistry is the spark that makes the film work and, as Carrey claimed in an interview with James Lipton, "gave the film credibility". Even Daniels admitted that working on this film was a highlight in his own career. Furthermore, the unforgettable road trip/buddy journey (in an "84 sheep dog," no less), as simple and ridiculous as it seems, turns out to be ironic and unpredictable, with some scenes more offensive and off-color than others. Ditto its many convoluted situations and subplots which influenced several "smart-dumb" comedies of the 90s and 2000s, including subsequent movies by the Farrelly Brothers. 

"Let's Get Real"

Liar Liar (1997)
Comedian and former talk show host Jay Leno once joked about the basic premise of Liar Liar, which centers on a fast-talking, compulsive lawyer (Fletcher Reed), whose son makes a wish on his fifth birthday that his dad will stop lying for 24 hours. Joked Leno, "Boy, you thought there were a lot of special effects in Independence Day." Director Tom Shadyac (who previously directed Eddie Murphy in the 1996 remake The Nutty Professor) reteamed with Carrey and both successfully transitioned into more grounded-but-still-hysterical territory with the story of a family man who is forced to reconsider where his career choices have taken him and how far they've taken him from his personal life, as well as what it means to really be honest (which can be brutal and relieving at different times). The results (though often crude) find the actor-comedian at his most comedic grounded self. That doesn't mean the film is without some typical Carrey hallmarks: outrageous physical humor (including an office battle with a "royal blue" pen and a bathroom brawl with himself), and silly voices and expressions. The difference is that Carrey plays a real character affected by extraordinary circumstances, as both a curse and an eventual blessing. Plus, the way he portrays high pressure when trying to suppress himself and then saying the wrong (or rather, the honest) thing, and then being affected by it, is a riot. And the funnyman arguably wouldn't have made the subtle transition to his next film had it not been for Liar Liar. 

The Truman Show (1998)
And now the role that proved Carrey was, like Steve Martin and Robin Williams before him, as strong with drama as he was with comedy. In The Truman Show, he plays Truman Burbank, a naive insurance clerk who is unaware that his entire life has been broadcast on television. An intriguing if haunting precursor to the reality t.v. frenzy of the last two decades, the film's satirizing of social media and its impact on the general population (ditto themes of voyeurism, media moguls, and controlling creative minds) is both remarkable and thought-provoking. Director Peter Weir (Witness, Dead Poets Society) allows Carrey to show off a more vulnerable side, and empathy for a character who questions the meaning of the world and the people around him, as well as what is real and what is not. 

Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind (2004)

Carrey showed, perhaps, his most serious and committed performance as Joel Barrish, a man who decides to have memories of his girlfriend (Kate Winslet, equally engrossing) erased after she goes through the same procedure. Written by offbeat screenwriter Charlie Kaufman (1999's Being John Malkovich, 2002's Adaptation) and music video director Michel Gondry (The White Stripe's "Fell In Love With a Girl"), Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind is a daring and creative perspective on human romance, love, and the bitter hole (complete with angst and heartbreak) that such decisions leave on people's minds and hearts. Perhaps Carrey has never barred so much of his heart and mind than in here. (In "Film FreeQ"s inaugural year of existence, this was one of the first films I thoroughly reviewed and discussed.)

"In case I don't see you, good afternoon, good evening, and good night."

~Truman Burbank

RETROSPECT: What Makes "Punch-Drunk Love" Personal

For the last several months, I've been compiling, evaluating, and reevaluating a list of some of my favorite films or (alternatively) films that have stuck with me the most over the years. Each of these films fall into one of two categories, for various and/or specific: those I believe are landmarks, and those that are very personal to me. Paul Thomas Anderson's 2002 feature film Punch-Drunk Love falls into this latter category. 

Written and directed by Anderson, and featuring Adam Sandler in arguably his best screen performance to date, the story (often profane, strange, unpredictable, and effectively mesmerizing) follows a small novelty business owner named Barry Egan (Sandler), who suffers from obsessive-compulsive anger and insecurities, who constantly tries to dodge his seven nagging sisters, and who seems to be on a quest for meaning. Things get complicated when he falls victim to the extortion schemes of a phone sex operator and a mattress store owner (Philip Seymour Hoffman). But his life begins to take a detour when he meets a mysterious woman named Lena (Emily Watson) and, therefore, slowly blooms and takes on new meaning. 

Typically, Adam Sandler doesn't make films for the industry or for Academy accolades. (He has, however, confessed that he once thought Billy Madison was going to get recognized at the Oscars.) And despite much of his filmography's lowbrow qualities and lack of critical praise (and let's be honest, Sandler has made some awful movies in his career), his movies have nevertheless generated countless fans and iconic status over the years, with their instantly quotable and idiosyncratic trademarks ("Are you too good for your home, ball?!?" from Happy Gilmore). Not to mention contributions of his musical and singing talents, and not just silly voices and sound effects, since his days as a Saturday Night Live cast member. Some could even make possible debates over whether these movies qualify as smart dumb comedies or just dumb-but-funny comedies in general. The late film critic Roger Ebert once wrote of Sandler, "He can't go on making those moronic comedies forever, can he?" 

Sandler has, however, proven (when paired with the right filmmaker and given the right material) that he is capable of in-depth, serious and genuine roles when he chooses, whether working with directors like Judd Apatow, Noah Baumbach, Mike Binder, James L. Brooks, or Jason Reitman. Even before working with Anderson, Sandler did begin to show traces of a softer, more grounded side in such comedies as The Wedding Singer and Big Daddy. And that seems to be the case again this year, based on early buzz and critical word-of-mouth, for his electrifying performance in the Safdie Brothers' new intense drama Uncut Gems. 

For me, Sandler's performance as Barry Egan in Anderson's film is the most personal one for me.
And here are seven reasons why. 

1. First and foremost, the very idea of "an arthouse Adam Sandler film" (as Anderson describes Punch-Drunk Love) was, at first, crazy, and reportedly made members of the press laugh. When the film premiered at the Cannes Film Festival (where Anderson won the Best Director award) in 2002, however, the naysayers were astounded, as well as by Anderson's idiosyncratic approach. I'll say it again, this is Sandler's most effective and relatable role to date. At the time, film critic Richard Roeper considered Punch-Drunk Love "a radical departure" for Sandler, and claimed the actor was "something to behold" in the film. In middle school, my class voted me as "most likely to be the next Adam Sandler." Even Barry Egan and I have the same initials.

2. Barry is a character who comes from a family of seven sisters -- complicated, dysfunctional relationships, to be sure. As a member of a big family myself, my family relationships aren't like Barry's in the film, but there are mental complexities and anxieties that I identify with, and which so many families go through, let's be honest.

3. One of the film's subplots involves Barry making trips to the grocery store (my longest job to date) to buy cheap Healthy Choice pudding and stack up on a frequent flyer miles promotion from American Airlines. Usually, Sandler's films use product placement, often shamelessly, similar to what Michael Bay does in his own films (we're looking at you, Transformers franchise). What makes Punch-Drunk Love an exception is that said products are part of the film's plot, and not there just to be there.

4. Speaking of flying, the year I first saw this film was the same year I flew a plane for the first time (as Barry does in the film). One YouTube video even went as far as discussing and analyzing how Barry Egan's story parallels Superman's.

"You can go to places in the world with pudding. That is funny." 

5. Another challenging and eye-opening aspect of Punch-Drunk Love is how the story presents polar opposite examples of "love". On one hand, there's the kind that is misguided and damaging, as Barry falls victim to the aforementioned phone sex line. (To its credit, the film doesn't condone this story element, but rather presents it as manipulative and devoid of real connection and emotion, as well as an example of searching for understanding and meaning in the wrong places.) On the other hand, there's the kind that is real and genuine, if strange, when Barry meets Lena. One of the song lyrics on the film's soundtrack reads,

You got to hope that there's someone for you, as strange as you are.

One of the film's subtler themes (at least, according to one review of the film) is the fear of whether those you love will still love you if they knew who you really were, as well as the theme of being real with others, which is what real relationships involve.

6. Anderson's filmmaking is very cinematic, artful, original, and daring. The film's use of color (including interludes by artist Jeremy Blake, as well as the prominent blue in Barry's wardrobe) and composer Jon Brion's offbeat, Baroque-style score (including the central harmonium Barry finds in the street at the film's opening, and even Harry Nilsson's Popeye song "He Needs Me" sung by Shelley Duvall), for one, represent varied emotions and even explosive bursts of color, such as anger, humility, loneliness, self-doubt, insecurity, worry, weakness, and later strength. Many were (and still are) put off by the unconventional and supposedly-experimental use of these elements. I didn't like the film the first time I saw it, due to the aforementioned elements combined, but it grew on me over time, and I connected with it more from there. That being said, there is poetry in the film's imagery, and in its simple-yet-ambitious story, in a way combining elements of fantasy (more emotional fantasy, actually) and reality. 

7. In his book "Into the Dark: Seeing the Sacred In the Top Films of the 21st Century," author and Christian pop culture analyst Craig Detweiller discusses a theological term known as "general revelation," which "suggests that God can speak through anyone or anything at anytime," whether it was the intention of the filmmaker or not. Detweiller adds, "The fervent discussions that swirl around [such films, like those of Anderson's, like the imagery of raining frogs in Magnolia] suggest that people with and without faith commitments find them to be occasions of searing insight, surprising comfort, and unexpected grace." Furthermore, "Movies serve religious functions for filmgoers, offering them time for contemplation, a change in perspective, a glimpse of the divine." Punch-Drunk Love fits these claims perfectly, displaying unexpected universal themes in a small-though-ambitious love story.

REVIEW: The Phenomenon and Controversy of "Joker"

A hard-R movie version of a popular comic book character. It's happened before with Blade, Deadpool, Wolverine, and even Batman. (Just look up the "Ultimate Edition" of Batman v Superman, if you don't believe that last one.) But perhaps no such film in recent memory has generated so much hype, so much bold and daring filmmaking, or so much controversy as director Todd Phillips' take on perhaps the greatest comic book villain ever created.

Phillips (whose previous credits include raunchy comedies like The Hangover trilogy and War Dogs) and star Joaquin Phoenix reportedly diverted from the source material of Batman's most iconic adversary (created by Bill Finger, Bob Kane Jerry Robinson in 1940) to deliver an original, psychological thriller less in common with the Batman mythos and more so with gritty 1970s cinema a la Martin Scorcese's Taxi Driver and Stanley Kubrick's A Clockwork Orange.

Set in a 1981 version of Gotham City (filming was based in New Jersey), Arthur Fleck (Phoenix) lives a lonely existence, working as a street clown while moonlighting as a failed comedian, all while he battles his own mental illness, whether from his illness, from a twisted relationship with his mother, from stalking his neighbor (a single mother), from the impoverished and chaotic status of Gotham, or all of the above. Phoenix's uncontrollable laughter (and higher-pitched voice) for this particular character is creepy and dark, ditto the way he contorts his body and gives himself a fake smile. Arthur's life and mind take a shocking turn from an incident on a subway train, when he shoots and kills three upper-class businessmen (a reverse clash of sorts between the rich and the "freaks").

Make no mistake, Joker (not to mention Phoenix's committed performance) is riveting and phenomenal, with many considering it a bold and original piece of cinema. It walks a tightrope between tragedy and dark comedy, and not just from its intense and thunderous score or its gritty and stirring cinematography. As Kubrick was known for subverting music and imagery in most of his films, Phillips incorporates classic, upbeat songs like Jimmy Durante's version of "Smile," Gary Glitter's "Rock & Roll, Part 2," and Frank Sinatra's "Send In the Clowns" to twisted effect.

Arthur Fleck dancing in a restroom

Like most of the character's comic book storylines, Joker presents merely everything about the villain's backstory and nothing as Arthur slowly takes a nihilistic downward spiral into madness, all while keeping it ambiguous and interpretive: Is he the Joker, or one of several? Is he the inspiration for the Joker? Also, who really created the Joker. Was it an ignorant society, or was it Arthur himself? Or was it all in his head? Or was it all of the above combined?

Some of these themes reiterate elements of Tim Burton's 1989 Batman film, including unexpected connections (or perhaps not) between the Clown Prince of Crime and the Wayne family, suggesting that Gotham was much darker before Bruce Wayne became the Caped Crusader. (This interpretation--or at least some of the ideas here--is going to anger a lot of people.) On the other hand, this film's portrayal of Thomas Wayne sometimes comes across as ignorant and negative; other times, not so much, despite a few other unnecessary connections.

"Is it just me, or is it getting crazier out there?"

Others, meanwhile, will find Joker just chilling and disturbing, which it is.

Way before its October 4th theatrical opening this year, many have considered the release of a film like Joker to be ill-timed, and have even criticized it for endorsing shocking violence and subject matter (e.g., incel violence, killing sprees or uprisings in clown masks), and for putting an empathetic view on an antiheroic character (a la Travis Brickle or Michael Corleone). And it's not hard to see why, considering the nationwide shootings and similar media in recent years. For one thing, survivors and families of the 2012 Aurora shootings, where James Holmes opened fire on an audience attending an advanced screening of The Dark Knight Rises, issued a letter to Warner Bros regarding their concern over the film's release. The studio issued a statement in response,

Gun violence in our society is a critical issue, and we extend our deepest sympathy to all victims and families impacted by these tragedies. Our company has a long history of donating to victims of violence, including Aurora, and in recent weeks, our parent company joined other business leaders to call on policymakers to enact bi-partisan legislation to address this epidemic.

In addition,

Warner Bros. believes that one of the functions of storytelling is to provoke difficult conversations around complex issues . . . Make no mistake: neither the fictional character Joker, nor the film, is an endorsement of real-world violence of any kind. It is not the intention of the film, the filmmakers or the studio to hold this character up as a hero.

AMC Theater's disclaimer on Joker

Phillips has stated one of his intentions with the film was not "to push buttons . . . I literally described to Joaquin [Phoenix] at one point . . . , 'Look at this as a way to sneak a real movie in the studio system under the guise of a comic book film.’ It wasn’t, ‘We want to glorify this behavior.’ It was literally like, ‘Let’s make a real movie with a real budget and we’ll call it [expletive] Joker’. That’s what it was.” Phoenix (who reportedly lost 45 lbs for the role), meanwhile, stated that "he wanted his version of the Joker to be extremely complex, so he did extensive research on various personality disorders so that even psychiatrists would not be able to identify what his character was."

To its credit, security around movie theaters during the film's release has been very good, with one report of a theater patron who stopped a disrupting theater attendee. And I applaud the many theater chains who posted disclaimers warning theater patron's of the film's mature content and atypical version of a comic book movie.

Still, that doesn't diminish the level of anarchy and chaos in the film: heart-pounding, on-the-edge-of-your-seat, stomach-churning. Not to mention a nerve-wracking and polarizing ending. This is the kind of film that will take days to recover from. Ironically, it'll stay with you for various reasons, like the above poster with the now-iconic image of Arthur first appearing in Joker makeup while dancing down a flight of stairs.

And that's no joke.