Pulse, American Style

I was super-psyched to see this movie, because I had loved the Japanese original, which was so obtuse and subtle I knew that it was particularly ripe for getting massively screwed up when trying to adapt it to something American teenagers might understand and be scared by. In the Japanese version no corpses jump out of laundry machines, we do not see people turning into stains, and there are many things the audience is never offered a direct explanation for, you’re just left to—imagine this—use your own brain power to piece together. I’ll be comparing the two versions a lot throughout this review.

I should also mention that I saw this movie on opening night in a theater full of a lot of teenagers of all races who were in large groups of friends, and who were in the mood to SCREAM. Had I wanted to enjoy the movie as something of quality this would have been annoying, but since I really just wanted to deride it for how badly it dumbed-down what the original film was, this proved to be the perfect audience, and the whole experience was very fun and lively.

The opening credits try to express how prevalent electronics are in our lives. Okay, as IF anyone needs any additional proof of that. We then join our heroine’s boyfriend Josh, who is walking through a library and all freaked out. There is a ghost attack within the first 30 seconds of the movie, wherein Josh is, uh, sucked by a ghost.

Then we meet Mattie, college student played by Kristen Bell of Veronica Mars fame. Mattie and company attend college in the dirtiest, grungiest city Ohio has to offer [we’re setting a movie in OHIO?], and for the first half you’re sitting there like “WHERE is his city? What, is everything a total slum?” The entire city looks like some community college that started with shitty facilities 20 years ago and has been burned, graffittied, broken, and not cleaned every year in between. It’s a bit ridiculous. Mattie is friends with Christina Milian, trying to extend her tepid singing career into a tepid acting career, and two other guys, one black, one Hispanic. Together they truly express the United Colors of Benneton.

Mattie, who needs to take the eye liner down a notch, is concerned by not having heard from her former boyfriend Josh, the one we saw getting sucked in the library. She goes over to his apartment, where she finds the computer on in an equivalent shot to the view of the computer from the original, only a bit more souped up with constantly-moving graphics and such. Mattie finds that Josh has not exactly been hip on cleanliness lately, and has roaches in the sink and—completely weird and unexplained—a crippled, greasy CAT locked in his closet. I don’t know WHERE that came from [or where it went]. Anyway, Josh is there, and he has a nasty black stain on him, and he tells Mattie to hold on while he goes in the other room and hangs himself.

Soon after this all the friends start getting IMs from Josh saying “Help me.” But wait a minute—Josh is dead! So they think that Josh’s computer must be somehow still on and sending them messages that say, “Help me.” So they send a member of their cru over to turn his computer off. He wanders around the apartment, then he sees a woman who comes at him and presumably sucks him as well.

Up until now this movie has stayed fairly close to the original. In the original all the friends worked at a facility studying plants, and the Josh character was delivering a piece of software for them. The apartment is neglected, but not filthy, i.e. no roaches and certainly no wounded cats. The second character who goes to Josh’s apartment actually sees him, turns away, and when he turns back, there is just a vaguely humanoid black stain on the wall. In Japan, this would have a lot of cultural resonance, based on the human shadows left on walls post-Hiroshima. This is one of those things that is very evocative, but not really explained. The character who later goes to the apartment leaves and goes to another basement room in the complex, and that’s where he sees the woman, which makes more sense, as… why is this woman in Josh’s apt? Anyway, the parts in which this movie apes the original end up being the most successful, such as the simple shot of the ghost woman just walking toward the camera. Oh, by the way, in the original, they didn’t get IMs from the dead guy, but phone calls where he said “Help me,” akin to the creepy phone calls in The Grudge.

So anyway, no one has heard from the guy who went over to Josh’s, but they start to connect to this weird thing on their computers that shows pale people looking at them. Mattie goes to Josh’s, where she meets an obese black landlady straight out of Gone with the Wind, who tells her she sold the computer to some refugee from a boy band. Mattie finds him, and discovers that Josh’s computer is in the trunk of his car, and thus couldn’t be sending them messages. Oh my God!

Meanwhile Josh sent them all a roll of red duct tape, with the message “It keeps them out. Don’t know why.” The reason Josh doesn’t know why is that the screenwriter of this movie doesn’t know why, because it’s never explained in the original. You just see it lining the doors and windows of several apartment buildings. You start to notice it and wonder what it’s about, and eventually piece it together, but here, of course, we can’t leave anything unexplained and we certainly can’t count on the audience to piece anything together. In the original the people would just LINE their doors and windows with the tape. Here they cover them completely. I guess that makes it more X-Treme.

SPOILERS > > >
In here we also see several news reports about an unexplained rash of suicides in the area. Then there’s some material about how the people on the campus are dwindling. Again, in the original this was not called attention to. We stayed very closely within the perspective of our main character, and we only see suicides obliquely, until the end, where the movie opens up the perspective and there is a tremendously powerful effect of “Holy shit! This is happening all over and everyone is gone! The world is actually ending!” But here we can’t have anything sudden or anything hidden from the audience, so we have to foreshadow long ahead, in my opinion, losing a lot of the power of this effect in the original. Also in the original the main character is walking down the street, then sees this woman atop a tower. The woman throws herself off, falls, and BAM! Hits the pavement! This is one of those few moments that can make a jaded filmgoer like myself jump out of my seat and say “Oh my God!” It isn’t here. I saw a glimpse of an equivalent scene in the trailer, but I’m thinking they decided it was too much for our fragile American minds. Isn’t it funny how everything has to be X-Treme, and yet we can’t show anything that’s actually extreme?

So here someone goes to another friend’s house and sees the black stuff on his skin. He touches it, causing someone in the audience to exasperatedly say “And he’s gonna touch it!” We actually SEE the guy turn into the stain on the wall, which is considerably more vulgar than the original would ever do. It is also accomplished with CGI, which the original used very sparingly. By this time, the audience I was with was just making cracks. When Mattie’s printer starts printing out a giant puzzle for her [as seen in the trailer], someone shouted “Now let’s see what you have won!” And later, after a creepy monster has jumped out of the washing machine [also seen in the trailer], the guy next to me cackled “That’s it for you, Christina Milian!” Also, I don’t know, is it a common fear that something creepy might jump out of a washing machine? It must be, for as much as it appears in movies from Dark Water to The Video Dead. Later, just before Milian turns to dust, we see her in vivid close-up with a long river of snot running out of her nose and into her mouth, causing the audience to collectively go “Eeeewwww!”

Anyway, since we have to have a chance for hope and a way to defeat the virus, Mattie and Boy Band guy try to find Zeigler, who Josh was in contact with at the beginning. They think he has all the answers. So now we see how the city is deserted, which isn’t surprising since it had been foreshadowed for so long. As I said, in the original, we stayed very much with our main characters, and when we finally saw the city was deserted, it was really shocking, and quite a revelation; we’re not just talking about a few people, we’re talking about the very breakup of society and the end of the world. It was one of my favorite things about the original. Here it’s not that much of a shock. They find Zeigler, and he unleashes a BUTTLOAD of exposition: they were doing some computer shit and found a bunch of “frequencies we didn’t even know existed,” and one of them is apparently DEAD-FM. The dead are seeping into our world, and sapping our “will to live.” The red tape is the only thing with the properties to keep them out. Josh was working on a virus to reverse the whole thing, but they have to get down to the computer lab to put it in the system, and this is ghost central.

So Mattie and mister Boy Band go to the basement, where they are chased by ghosts, and Mattie almost gets her will to live sucked out. If you watch carefully, you can see Boy Band actually PUSH her will to live back into her with his hand. Could someone please push my will to live back into me? And while you’re at it, please push a sense of hope and optimism as well? Thanks. Anyway, so BB uploads the virus, and it works! For like three seconds. So they flee.

We have previously heard that “you’re safe in the dead zones. Places with no computer, cell service or wi-fi.” So they take off to the rolling hills of rural Ohio [SO not accurate… as someone who grew up in Michigan, I can assure you that Ohio is as flat as Paris. Hilton, that is]. They hear on the radio that you have to get rid of your cell phone, so of course the first thing Mattie does is open up her cell phone. They also chose to sleep under giant electrical towers, by the way. They are attacked by ghosts, and finally make it to the human encampments that are in a “dead zone.” We then have some ending voice-over about how “what was meant to connect us to each other connected us to worlds we were never meant to find.” The end.
< < < SPOILERS END

The main difference here [aside from how obvious and in-your-face everything is] is a fundamental change in the focus and point of the movie. In the Japanese version, it was the loneliness and social isolation that all the electronic gadgets were a symptom of that turned people into ghosts. It was a potent metaphor; people’s loneliness actually turned them into ghosts, and the ghosts spread through the devices that contributed to the social isolation in the first place. Therefore, it was the gadgets and the technologies themselves that were the problem. Here the gadgets are no problem, it’s just that we’ve tapped into a bad frequency, and THAT is the issue. For all the loving product placement for technology this film takes advantage of, I guess we can hardly expect it to come out and say that technology itself is bad. And really, Americans cannot be shown ANYTHING that might be seen as discouraging sales. Remember how right after 9/11 we were told that if people stop shopping the whole fabric of American society would crumble? You know how the ONLY solutions to global warming that President Bush is willing to consider are those that can be accomplished by new technology? Technology that will boost the economy? So clearly, a message that consumer products which are a cornerstone of our economy might not be entirely good CANNOT be uttered in the land of the free! The entire idea that teenagers are going to part with their cell phones and Internet because of some shitty low-grade horror movie just underscores how apparently important it is that any anti-technology message be suppressed. The sheer number of people in my audience checking their cell phones for any urgent messages that may have come in while they were at the movies seems to weigh toward the idea that we need not worry.

As I said, in the original, the breakdown of society was handled as quite an effective surprise. In a way, it was like a zombie movie, where you find things are going badly in your backyard, then find out it’s happening through all of society. When the plane crashes at the end of the original, it’s a “Holy Shit!” moment, where you realize that the world is truly fucked. Here it just kind of happens and has no impact. This movie also ends with a note of hope for humanity, whereas the original left us with much darker prospects. I do have to give the remake credit for going as far as it did in [SPOILER!] leaving us with a society that is reduced to living in ragtag shanty towns in rural areas. It could have had the virus work and everything go back to normal [END SPOILER!]. So I guess we should be happy for this small gesture toward the events in this movie having actual consequences.

Poor Kristen Bell picked the wrong movie to make her post-Veronica Mars debut in. It’s too bad, because she projects such canny intelligence on Veronica Mars, but here she is hampered by trying to make the lame lines of the script plausible, and it comes out the worse for her. It’s a little disturbing to see an actress of her promise and intelligence [she was quite an electrifying presence during her short scenes in Mamet’s Spartan, too] having to show her tits on the cover of Maxim and the like. Well, next time, Kristen. We’ll keep on pulling for you. Christina Milian is no worse than anyone else in most movies. The rest of the cast is quite generic and are unable to rise above the script and direction.

As a movie you might want to see, this movie is not as bad as the fact that it was delayed several times and that there were no screenings for critics would lead you to believe. It’s also not that great. Despite that obvious studio shill Earl Dittman says in his blurb: “Like no horror movie you’ve ever seen before or ever will see!” this movie is completely generic and all of the genuine creepiness of the original has been removed, leaving it just a tepid thrill machine in the vein of most low-rent horror movies lately. If you’re totally bored there are worse things you could see, but unless you’ve seen the original and are interested in how they fucked it up, there really is no reason to sit through this.

A Circle of Cliches

When did you last come across the words "coruscating" or "magisterial"? It's unlikely to have been in a holiday brochure or a recipe. Surely it was on the back of a book or in a book review.

The book world has a language all of its own. I hadn't noticed it much before now, but then I became a published author who relied on the reviews of others. In reading the words of critics in order to discern whether or not to send review copies of my novel out to certain individuals, I came to discern and gradually learn a new language I dub, "reviewese". The dialect had been identified before: Raymond Queneau's Exercises in Style, which tells a two-paragraph story 99 different ways, has a study in reviewese. The story is retold as a book review, and in Barbara Wright's English translation the story's author is commended for bringing it off "with a rare felicity".

Reviewese isn't confined to book reviewers; it pervades the literary world. A lot of it comes from book-jacket blurbs, which produce a repertoire of sentences that publishers would like to see in book reviews. This literary lingo consists of words, constructions and formulations few English speakers use, but that sound true if used about books. I started to notice it everywhere, and began keeping a list of phrases that recurred and jarred.

All trades have some kind of professional jargon – hacks must have their spikes, and cobblers their lasts – but there's something different about reviewese. Admittedly, it relies on the same sorts of abbreviations as other trades: "I couldn't put it down" becomes "unputdownable"; "It was so funny I laughed out loud" becomes "laugh out loud funny". Publishers and critics need these terms like they need terms for genres, such as chick lit, lad lit, bonkbusters, sex and shopping and killer chillers. Somehow, the way we talk about writing has become rich in clichés. It affects the way we publish books, the way we cover them, and the way we consume them. You could devise a circle of clichés, starting (because we have to start somewhere) with the publishers. Publishers have to tell journalists, shopkeepers and readers what a book is like as quickly as possible, so find themselves using an immediately recognizable language. There is no counting the books that have subtitles beginning with the words "the extraordinary true story of", or the times when the story is untold and the truth shocking. One publisher said that a book was a "lie-in-the-bath-with-a-glass-of-wine" kind of book.

The "x meets y" construction is an invaluable way of summarizing a book whose disparate elements might call for lengthier description. Another is to talk of an author's progeny – he or she could be the bastard offspring, or bizarre lovechild, conceived in a crack house by the union of Marcel Proust and Jeanette Winterson. Yet another is the culinary image: take Tobias Smollett, stew him in his own juice, reduce, mix in some finely chopped Poe, season with Patti Smith and serve with late Henry James.

I have read this kind of thing from publishers often, and critics occasionally; but then, critics are apt to talk of the resulting stew, or broth, or heady mix. And critics love to concatenate names and drop them from the heavens: in his novel Who's Sorry Now?, Howard Jacobson describes a critic "famous for the number of books on any subject he was able to review in one week, and for the number of mentions of writers other than the ones reviewed he was able to squeeze into 600 words".

The namedrop is an effective shorthand, and flatters the reader too. Let me drop another, then: in Enemies of Promise, Cyril Connolly writes that "journalism must obtain its full impact on the first reading", and adds: "Carelessness is not fatal to journalism nor are clichés, for the eye rests lightly on them." Connolly found a way of excusing the argot that irked me about professional reviewers. I had thought that literary journalism should be better than other journalism, because it was about literature – in the words of Ezra Pound (clank), "news that stays news". Let other scribes begin every feature published shortly before Christmas with the words " 'Tis the season"; let those more on the qui vive tell us what just got hot. But if Connolly is right, I missed the point: "Journalism is loose, intimate, simple, and striking; literature formal and compact, not simple and not immediately striking in its effects." Literary journalism, I had to remember, was still journalism.

By the time I was through, my list had become vast and sprawling. It included the phrase "vast and sprawling" (which is often followed by the words "epic" or "tome"). It contained words I was fed up with seeing next to one another. So the time has come to celebrate this ready-made vernacular in all its richness, and to show the world what prefabricated phrases exist to assist our discussion of any book that comes our way. Here are some of the tropes you'll need if you want to talk about literature quickly and without having to worry about it too much. Forgive me if I miss a few.

as good as any novel – why should writers of fact aspire to the standards of novelists?

at its core, **** is a deeply moral work – a handy way for a critic to say that those who don't like the shocking book under review simply don't understand it

breakneck speed – no successful thriller will go any slower

bursting to get out – of novellas in vast, sprawling epics

by this stage - I was ready to hurl the book across the room

cocktail – the result of stirring one author in with another: "a cocktail of Hergé and the Marquis de Sade"

coruscating – to be confused with "excoriating"

cracking pace – slower than breakneck speed; too slow

darkly comic - wickedly funny

deceptively simple – the simplicity of the phrase itself belies how complicated it is. Is the book/poem/style simple or isn't it? Or does it remind us that to mere readers, something might look simple, and that they need clever critics to undeceive them?

editor should be shot – wouldn't it be better to shoot those who write "the editor should be shot"? The phrase normally appears in connection with a list of minor quibbles. But to punish editors with this ultimate sanction would lead to a smaller number of editors, not only through their execution but also by discouraging people from becoming editors in the future. The grim consequence of this would be a major increase in minor quibbles

epic – as if synonymous with "long"

event – "a new epic by Homer is always an event"

feisty – of heroines, usually with mention of hair color – "step forward, feisty redhead DI Dubrovnik"

has it all – as a rule, chick lit stories should feature a twenty something heroine who has it all, with the customary exception of Mr. Right

heady mix – see cocktail, supra

high-octane – of the fuel needed to keep thrillers going at breakneck speed

hits the ground running – of stunning debuts

icon – as if synonymous with anything famous or even recognizable

in an iron grip - holds the reader's attention

in his inimitable style – incidentally, inimitable people often turn out to be quite imitable: "the inimitable Sean Connery"

laugh out loud, as in laugh out loud funny – Oh my God. Come to think of it, reviewese could soon become a completely textable language, with :-) or :-( to indicate whether or not a book is good. At the time of writing, though, reviewese still uses laugh out loud as an adjective rather than an interjection

leafy - not strictly reviewese, but curious: I once saw Harlesden described as leafy

magisterial (of non-fiction) – any two-volume biography or history can be called magisterial. For single-volume works to qualify, they must reach 700 pages not including notes, bibliographies and appendices

**** meets **** – the most quoted example of this construction was the work of Arrow's publicity department: they described Come Together by Emlyn Rees and Josie Lloyd as what could happen if "Bridget Jones met Nick Hornby at a party given by the housemates of This Life". For some, what happened when Emlyn Rees met Josie Lloyd was troubling enough

overnight sensation – I do enjoy how slightly rude that sounds

politically correct – an appealingly easy target, hence "political correctness gone mad"

stunning debut – in reviewese, a young writer can debut stunningly

surreal- as if synonymous with odd, wacky

sympathetic portrait – see warts-and-all, infra

take one ****, mix in some ****, add a dash of ****, leave to simmer, and what do you have? - a story for a general audience; in other words, a blockbuster

that rare thing – perhaps it's worth quoting Edwin Muir on Thomas Mann's Confessions of Felix Krull, Confidence Man: "Here is that unheard of, that supposedly impossible thing, a good German comic novel…"

tour de force (of literary scholarship) – the minimum length for a tour de force, not including notes, bibliographies and appendices, is 400 pages

(the) truth is often stranger than fiction – variants of this observation are that fact mingles strangely with fiction, and that life imitates art

vast, sprawling epic – it is polite to congratulate short-story writers for being able to "compress into a few pages what lesser writers fail to achieve in vast, sprawling epics"

Viagra – coined by Charles Spencer in this paper's notice of The Blue Room, starring Nicole Kidman; he alone should be allowed to use it, but the conceit is now standard reviewese

warts-and-all –reviewese can turn whole phrases into adjectives. Ironic that the grammar used in literature is corrupted to describe it (see laugh out loud, unputdownable)

wickedly funny – less dark than darkly comic

woefully inadequate – of notes, bibliographies, appendices and most often indices

Blades of Glory

Blades of Glory

It seems that one of the effects of "breakthrough" movies such as Brokeback Mountainand TV shows such as Will & Grace is that straight people are now much more comfortable including gays—and gay panic—in their entertainments. While waiting for Blades of Glory to begin I sat through two trailers with prominent gay jokes. One was for Shrek the Third, in which, as a final laugh, a man in drag with a heavy five-o'clock shadow says, in the drony nasal voice that has come to be associated with gays, “I know he’s a jerk and everything, but I gotta admit, that Charming makes me hotter than July,” to which the women behind him say “Ewww!.” And finally, an entire movie full of gay jokes, I Now Pronounce You Chuck & Larry, which stars Adam Sandler and Kevin James as straight firefighters who must endure a gay marriage or risk financial ruin for some reason. The primary joke, at least as expressed in the trailer, is that they start to have a real emotional connection and start to bicker and care about each other as though they were "really married." This movie, by the way, is directed by Dennis Dugan, who is married to a woman in real life, but played the wildly effeminate lover in Norman, Is That You?

The trailer for Blades of Glory focuses on the gay panic. It would seem that for the majority of straight people, doing something that seems “gay,” or especially someone else THINKING you are gay, causes great anxiety—the kind of anxiety that causes laughter as a manner of release. This anxiety is called 'gay panic,' and it is exploited to get people in to Will Ferrell's current film, Blades of Glory. We are invited to consider how laughably hilarious it is that men dress in bright tights and do something as girly as figure skate. The film uses gay panic as a laugh-getter as we contemplate the indignity of two men having to skate as a male couple, in their bright tights and with all the intimate body contact implied. The spots that have been pulled out for the trailer as the laugh-getters most likely to bring audiences into the theater focus on the men touching each other's crotches, having the other's crotch in their face, and skating in a position that looks as though they could be having anal sex. So audiences showing up for this movie are gearing up for an hour and a half of Will Ferrell gay panic humor.

BLADES OF GLORY AND ITS SEXUAL CONTENT
The movie begins at a skating event and uses sports-coverage devices to deliver exposition on its protagonists. We first cover Jimmy MacElroy, played by Jon Heder with fluffy golden locks that are supposed to appear humorously feminine. We learn that he was an orphan who took to skating at an early age, and see him in a shiny golden lycra bodysuit at around the age of four. A billionaire sees him skating and "buys" him from the orphanage, entering him into a dehumanizing training program to make him a virtual skating machine. We then return to the present, where we see Jimmy skating with an outfit that is supposed to look like a peacock, the joke being that it is humorously feminine, and ridiculous that a man would think something along those lines would be an addition to his performance. The sportscasters say of Jimmy: "Very few women skate with this kind of beauty."

We are then introduced to Will Ferrell as Chazz Michael Michaels, another in his line of clueless buffoon heterosexual men who think they're much more sexually attractive then they are. We are told that Chazz is a sex addict, made a porn film, and had a 35-year-old girlfriend when he was nine. Chazz wears a red cowboy outfit and makes sexual motions of thrusting with his hips and licking his tongue between his fingers. The announcers refer to him as "Surfing a tsunami of swagger" and describe him as "sex on ice."

We are also introduced to Stranz and Fairchild, a brother-sister skating duo who were raised by their parents to be the JonBenet Ramsays of couples figure skating. They have a sister, Katie, who is much less competitive and more sympathetic, who will become Jimmy's love interest—once the movie lets on that Jimmy is not gay.

At this initial competition, Jimmy and Chazz tie for the Gold medal, have a fight, and are banned from the sport. Since he is no longer allowed to skate, Jimmy's father abandons him by the side of the road. We are soon introduced to Hector, a homosexual obsessed with Jimmy, who speaks in a depressed, unctuous voice. Jimmy says "Hector, you know I still have that restraining order against you," to which Hector responds "Oh THAT thing," and goes on to gleefully ignore it. Hector's character is very similar to the character Philip Seymour Hoffman played in Boogie Nights: the depressed, whiny fag desperately in love with a straight character. The dangerous obsession of Hector's particular character is that he tells Jimmy he wants to “cut off your skin and wear it to my birthday.”

So eventually they get the idea [supplied by Hector] that Jimmy and Chazz can continue to compete as a couple. Now all along Jimmy has been dressing in outrageously feminine outfits of pastel blue or green, wearing his fluffy blond hair in a voluminous wavy perm [later called the “Jimmy Curl”], and maintaining the demeanor of a sassy, bitchy gay man, and insulting Chazz with such bon mots as “You’re a douche.” This interpretation is confirmed a few minutes later when the two male skaters make a half-serious joke about which will lead when they dance, i.e. which one of them is the woman. Both Chazz and their coach confirm to Jimmy: "You’re the woman," with Chazz saying this is because Jimmy “has a vagina.”

Adding to the characterization of Jimmy as the gay member of the relationship are exchanges such as this one, when the coach first suggests they form a team. Chazz says "This guy couldn't even hold my jock sweat," and Jimmy replies "I can hold it all day long. Why don’t you try me." “Maybe I will,” Chazz says. “Maybe you should,” Jimmy responds.

After a short practice sequence, they are in their first competition. This is the sequence much of the trailer is taken from, where Chazz holds Jimmy in the air via his crotch. They both hold each other with respective crotches in each other's faces, then with Chazz holding Jimmy in a position that looks as though he is penetrating him anally. The humor is gay panic humor, laughter that expresses what a horrible situation it would be for most men to find their face inches away from another man's crotch, or how “gay” it looks for them to spin together like that. The scene ends with the two skaters sliding forward and slamming their crotches together at high speed. The second time I saw this film, specifically in order to write this article, there were very few people in the audience. They were virtually silent up until this skating scene, but erupted in raucous laughter during this sequence.

An important element of the film occurs here, however, as Jimmy falls and appears disinclined to continue the routine. Chazz offers his hand to help him up, and when Jimmy stands, the on-screen audience erupts in cheers that continue through the end of the routine. It’s important when this happens, as the on-screen audience is essentially telling the movie theater audience how to react to these two men skating together. And it signals the sharp turn the movie is about to take.

After this sequence—exactly halfway through the movie—we have the introduction of Katie as Jimmy's love interest. This is the first time the audience knows that Jimmy is not gay, and it’s somewhat of a shock. Seeing it a second time, it seems that between the outfits and hair and bitchiness the filmmakers definitely led the audience toward the assumption that Jimmy is gay, only to switch at this point and reveal that he is merely sexually undeveloped.

Now that the pair has qualified for the big championship in Montreal, the coach decides that in order for them to become a team, they must live together, sleep together and pee together. They have a discussion of who will be on top of the bunk beds [“I call top,” says Jimmy], a position which Chazz then just takes, in the manner of an older brother. The conception of the two of them as brothers, rather than potential romantic partners, will continue to the end of the movie. During the scene where the two skaters move in together, Jimmy’s wardrobe has taken a dramatic turn toward the more traditionally masculine, with jeans, a dark shirt and denim jacket. Although it is not accomplished all at once, Jimmy’s wardrobe will continue trending away from the flamboyant clothes he chose previously and increasingly toward the more traditionally masculine until the end of the film.

Katie is obviously interested in Jimmy, and soon her brother and sister manipulate her into seducing Jimmy, then sleeping with Chazz, to break the couple up. There is an amusing scene in which Katie is on one end of a phone conversation, being coached by her brother and sister to make outrageously sexual double-entendres, while on the other end Chazz is coaching Jimmy in what to say when trying to talk to girls on the phone.

As the two men continue growing closer together as a team, Chazz seems to be letting go of the need to constantly enforce his rigidly macho exterior. While he earlier said that Jimmy has a “vagina,” he now says that the two of them have “twin dongs.” Then there is a subplot in which Jimmy and Chazz have an acrimonious separation, and Chazz spends the entire night leaving phone messages for Jimmy in the manner of an emotional person at the end of a romantic relationship.

In here we have also introduced a black character, Jesse, who is a choreographer. His demeanor seems gay throughout, but what’s most interesting is a stained glass window in the kitchen of coach’s home that seems to show him and coach, their arms around each other, wearing white T-shirts with large red hearts on them, and a number of red hearts floating in the air above them. Are coach and Jesse a gay couple? There isn’t much more in the film to support it, suggesting that there may be some deleted scenes somewhere that delineate these characters’ relationship more clearly. This is actually confirmed by a publicity still showing a scene not in the finished film, a view of Coach's home that contains a large glass rainbow-flag triangle.

Eventually the two men perform their big skating set together. Jimmy now has learned to thrust his hips and lick sexually between his fingers like Chazz. Then they perform their big stunt, which, if not done with absolute precision, will decapitate one of the pair. Chazz has always been the lead skater, that is, he would decapitate Jimmy, but an injury forces Jimmy to take the lead, putting Chazz in the submissive position. But Chazz trusts Jimmy now, and the move is executed flawlessly, with Jimmy’s blade coming so close it cuts two small hairs of Chazz's beard.

Afterward, Katie rushes to meet Jimmy, who kisses her like a full-fledged romantic hero. She asks him where he learned to kiss, and he says "Chazz taught me some things." She makes an expression that implies she is wondering if the men actually kissed, then decides she doesn't care. An emotional Chazz tells the press that he never had a father, but he doesn’t care, because now he has a brother. Chazz reveals a tattoo he got of Jimmy, right next to his “Lone wolf” tattoo, saying that now “The lone wolf doesn’t have to be alone any more.” The movie ends with Chazz and Jimmy taking each other's hand and flying into the stratosphere.

Then, during the credits, there is a short sequence in which obsessive gay Hector appears again, playing with Ken-like dolls of Jimmy and Chazz. In his scenario a doll representing him tells asks to speak to Chazz alone. He tells Chazz some of the things that Jimmy likes, and asks him to take care of Jimmy; Hector has given him up and entrusted Jimmy to Chazz’s care.

A CASE OF HETEROSEXUAL RE-EDUCATION
So the story of Blades of Glory lends itself nicely to an interpretation that includes all of the homoeroticism and themes of brotherhood being alluded to throughout. But let me preface this by stating that I am NOT saying that Will Ferrell and writers Jeff and Craig Cox sat around trying to deliver this underlying story about homosocial fraternity. While surely some of it was intended, I think that in writing a story that seemed funny and placing the elements where they seem to "fit," they happened to construct a subtext that tells a supporting story of its own.

Jimmy has no parents, hence no father figure in his life. He falls into an androgynous persona as a young boy where he dresses in flamboyant clothes and has skill in a sport that requires delicacy and poise, instead of power and strength, like more typical boys' sports. He is adopted by a surrogate father, but this man makes little emotional connection, and trains young Jimmy like an animal, with a stake in his remaining in the feminized anti-sexual state he was in. By the time we see him as an adult he is in an outfit like a peacock [a male animal known for its beauty], and this is immediately followed by the commentator saying the beauty of his skating surpasses that of women.

By contrast, Chazz is placed to the other extreme, a ludicrously macho skater who represents "a tsunami of swagger." He is macho, but his masculinity has an over-emphasized, desperate quality. He skates by a long line of adoring female fans who want HIM, to center on Jimmy and say "I want YOU." Thus a lot of the comedy in the first half is achieved by how very much the male couple is like a heterosexual couple; one male, one "female."

When the two skaters get kicked out of the sport, Jimmy's only father figure abandons him by the side of the road. We then introduce the ridiculous figure of Hector, the homicidal homosexual. Hector is there to focus the homosexuality outside of both Jimmy and Chazz, which allows them to be accepted without discomfort by a straight audience. To straight audiences gays are, like the man in the Shrek trailer and Hector here, absolutely obsessed with straight men. And although Hector is ultimately a likeable and harmless figure, and it's worth noting that the only openly gay character in this movie wants to kill the person he adores and wear his skin… and that this is treated as a harmless way in which he expresses his devotion.

When Jimmy and Chazz team up, they take on the roles of big brother / little brother. They have to live together and sleep in the same room, with big brother Chazz demanding the top bunk. We laugh when they skate with their crotches in each other's faces and slam their crotches together, but they don't seem too uncomfortable with most of it [and are completely comfortable by the end of the film], because their relation is coming to be one of brothers.

During this second half of the movie Chazz teaches Jimmy how to be masculine, and give up the feminized trappings of his youth. He coaches him about what to say on the phone, Jimmy learns to thrust his hips and lick suggestively between his fingers from Chazz, and we find out that Chazz taught him how to kiss. His clothes also become progressively more traditionally masculine. This points to what may be the reason that Jimmy’s character cannot be fully gay, but has to be an effeminized asexual; if he were gay and Chazz taught him to be straight, that would be offensive. Since he is merely effeminate but not openly homosexual, it does not stand out as offensive. But ultimately the movie seems to be making a different point altogether.

One of the ways this relationship is able to succeed is that Chazz is so devoted to Jimmy. There are several occasions when Jimmy is ready to give up and walk away, but Chazz pursues him and wins him over through his devotion. One indication of this is when Chazz offers his hand when Jimmy falls, and another when he expresses his devotion to he and Jimmy as a team at a press conference. The most affecting episode in this vein is the series of late-night phone messages Chazz leaves on Jimmy's machine, which is played as a parody of stereotypical romantic breakup behavior. But this devotion and insistence on holding onto Jimmy is what makes Jimmy's heterosexual re-education work, because Chazz becomes the male figure of veneration that Jimmy, with his absent biological father and unloving surrogate father who abandoned him, never had. We also find out at the end that Chazz never had a father; in mentoring Jimmy he becomes the father figure he never had.

So then what of Chazz’s arc? His is less noticeable than Jimmy's, but nonetheless important. Chazz starts the movie as a parody of the macho male who needs nothing [i.e. no other man] except hot women. Even as he becomes Jimmy's "older brother," he assumes the dominant role [and the top bunk] without discussion. Throughout the movie Chazz becomes more and more attached to Jimmy, eventually going from considering Jimmy as a person with “a vagina” to considering the two of them together as having “twin dongs.” Chazz’s arc is in giving up his dominant position, as well as the rigid trappings of an outwardly macho persona, and becoming more comfortable with caring about another man.

This is symbolized most potently at the end, when Chazz allows Jimmy to take the dominant position during the big skating stunt, trusting Jimmy not to decapitate him. I asked my psychoanalyst friend afterward if decapitation, when reported in dreams, is commonly understood to stand in for castration, and he confirmed that it was. So Chazz has become comfortable in letting himself be the submissive partner, or, as they conceived of it earlier in the film: “The woman.” He is trusting Jimmy to take the dominant position without negating his own masculinity, that is, without being castrated. Thus it fits with the theme that in performing the stunt, Jimmy's blade removes a tiny bit of hair from Chazz's beard: he has reduced Chazz's manhood by a tiny fraction, but not negated it.

IS IT OFFENSIVE TO GAYS?
No. In fact, ultimately I believe it ingeniously has the effect of drawing in viewers with the promise of laughing at the gays and all the gay panic humor, then translating their reaction into a more inclusive enthusiasm for brotherhood, regardless of how gay someone seems.

After the first 45 minutes of laughing at Jimmy for how very gay he seems, the important change comes when he falls and Chazz skates over to help him up. When the pair begin to skate again and the on-screen audience cheers in wild support, this is kind of a surprise to the movie audience, as most of them expect the on-screen audience to continue in disdain. That they don’t—and we are talking about thousands of on-screen audience members—in effect shames the movie audience for their expectation that the idea of two men skating together should continue to be ridiculous. The thousands of people overlooking the ridiculousness of the skating pair and focusing on the skill involved essentially tells the movie audience that this is what they should be concentrating on as well.

The revelation of Jimmy as an asexual straight man also inadvertently has this effect as well. For the first half, the audience is focusing on how very gay Jimmy seems, and is assuming that he is gay. When it is revealed that he is not gay, rather than seeming like a denial of what he is, it has the effect of pointing out to the audience that effeminacy and flamboyant clothes do not necessarily a homosexual make. The coach turning out to be gay would continue this theme, if there were more of it in the movie, as here is a traditionally masculine man who turns out to be gay.

Finally, Chazz, who starts the film with a rigidly-maintained heterosexual persona, represents a lot of the gay panic much of the audience is feeling, and laughing at: he’s more worried is that someone might THINK he’s gay than that something “gay” might happen to him. As he overcomes his revulsion against seeming gay and comes to accept, care for and show intense devotion to his partner—even in front of thousands of people—he offers an excellent example of an admired character looking past the perceived embarrassment of being close to a gay man and on to who they are, and the brotherhood he shares with them.

Is any of this intended by the writers, stars and director? Surely some of it, but ultimately what matters is what made it up there on the screen. Blades of Glory draws viewers in with the promise of a lot of laughter based on gay panic, then expertly switches that out with a message that tells them: “Come on guys, isn’t it time we got past this?”