The Rewatch: Harper's Island

Twitter is not my favorite social media platform. I find it annoying more often than not, but it's become pretty necessary for certain interactions. And once in a while, it manages to redeem itself! For instance, if I weren't on Twitter, I would never have heard through the Horror Honeys grapevine that Harper's Island has been added to the Netflix streaming catalog. Harper's Island was a 2009 murder mystery show on CBS, and promised a gimmick in which at least one of the characters would die in every single episode. The combination of the Ten Little Indians premise with the assumption that its airing on network TV meant that it wouldn't be too gory drew my interest immediately, and I jumped in happily. On first viewing, I thought it was extremely cheesy, often silly, and...a total blast. In fact, it became the only non-reality show I ever recapped/reviewed.

Harper's Island centers on a destination wedding taking place on an island off the coast of Seattle. Seven years ago, the island was the site of a brutal mass slaying, which included the mother of the main wedding guest, Abby. Abby reluctantly agrees to come back to attend the wedding, since the groom is her best friend, but her reappearance kicks off another chain of murders. Since I've already described the show episode-by-episode, I'm not going to do the same here. I just wanted to talk about how the show struck me on the Rewatch, since this time, I was watching with full knowledge of who the killer is. Did I spot anything new? Were there clues that I missed the first time, but picked up on now? Did the ending make sense in hindsight? Is there any fun in watching a whodunnit when there isn't any suspense about, well, who done it?

Let's answer that last question first: Yes! If anything, I enjoyed the show more this time around. It's still a guilty pleasure, but I'm prepared to argue that despite some goofiness and cliche, it's actually a really well-crafted mystery that doesn't (entirely) rely on playing "Gotcha!" with the viewer. On first viewing, I had fun trying to figure out who the killer was. On the Rewatch, I had fun testing the feasibility of the killer's plan. While I did pick up on some nuances I missed the first time around, for the most part, things that puzzled me the first time around still don't entirely make sense. With a lot of brain space once devoted to picking apart the mystery freed up, I was able to focus on characterization a lot more this time. I've got to say, I found it a lot more impressive on the Rewatch. These actors did not phone in their performances, and apart from Madison, who is as stupid and creepy a brat as ever, everyone gets a chance to shine. OK, maybe not Non-Entity Beth, but that's not the actress' fault.

Best Episode (judged in 2009): "Sploosh"
Best Episode (judged in 2014): "Splash"

Worst Episode (judged in 2009): "Sigh"
Worst Episode (judged in 2014): "Seep"

Overall Grade (2009): B+
Overall Grade (2014): A-

Harper's Island didn't get the attention or respect it deserves. For those who like murder mysteries, it's a hearty recommend that people should jump on before the streaming availability expires. For those who have already seen it, I have some questions and comments. So be warned! From here on out, expect some massive SPOILERS.

-For those statistics geeks out there, it took until Episode 8 for me to suspect the actual murderer. And even then, I wasn't sure. Good job covering your tracks, Henry!

-So who killed the deer and left it on Shane's truck with the "PSYCHO" message? Maybe it was JD? That would explain him washing all the blood off his hands, though it seems a little extreme for JD, who tends to act out in less gruesome ways. But by the same token, I don't think Wakefield would have bothered with something that petty.

-Similarly, who left the deer head in Henry and Trish's bathtub? He cleans it up so Trish won't see it, so it couldn't have been him or Wakefield. It seems retaliatory, so did Shane do it? And if so, why leave it in Henry's bathtub and not JD's?

-The psychic tells Trish that a male will both betray and save her. We assumed at the time that she was referring to Richard, and that still seems to be the case, since he saves her from drowning, but it leaves some open questions. How did Richard betray Trish? He betrays the hell out of Sinister Dad and Shea, but nothing he does has any real effect on Trish. Who closed the pool cover on Trish? Henry was lurking around, but he seems genuinely surprised by the situation. Plus, he had plenty of opportunities between the pool incident and Trish's stabbing to kill her, and didn't take them. Richard doesn't have a reason or the temperament to do it, unless he was just trying to give her a good scare. So if it wasn't Henry (who never saved her), and it wasn't Richard (who never betrayed her), what is the psychic talking about?

-It's likely that Wakefield or Henry left the raccoon corpse on the church altar, as it was probably practice for Sinister Dad's eventual murder. The firecracker at the scene leads everybody to suspect JD, though, and the situation is never really cleared up. JD claimed his plan was to put a Roman candle in the Unity candle. OK, so, what's the chain of events here? JD goes to the church and sets up his Roman candle, leaving behind a firecracker by accident. Then Wakefield/Henry comes along and splits a raccoon with the head-spade. Then Henry "discovers" both the raccoon and the firecracker? And reports them? That seems off. Maybe Henry just planted the firecracker to divert suspicion. (And as an aside, too bad that the Unity candle was never lit. Plenty of action takes place in the church afterwards. How cool would it have been for someone to have used the candle as a weapon?)

-At Henry's bachelor party, Richard is entirely unperturbed at his affair with Katherine being discovered. And later, Sinister Dad admits to Trish that his relationship with Katherine is complicated, though he never gets to the reasons why. I can't find it now, but I remember reading something about the backstory on this, which got left on the cutting room floor. Everyone treats Sinister Dad as if he has immense wealth and power, but it turns out that he's essentially broke, and it's actually Katherine who has all the money. This explains how Katherine and Richard don't much care if people find out about the affair, and why Sinister Dad sticks around.

-As I mentioned above, some unexplained things from the first viewing remain mysteries. How did Henry kill the priest if he was busy having sex on his wedding cake at the time? How did he kill Richard if he was busy digging up Wakefield's grave? If Madison was incidental to the murders, why does she act so dumb and suspicious all the time? What's the significance of the red ink in Kelly's eyes? Why did Uncle Marty bring a gun to the island? There are plenty of plot holes like these to be picked at, but none of them so big that they spoiled the show. Hell, maybe I can fill in some of these gaps if I watch it again in another five years! See you then.

Guilty Pleasure: Earth Girls Are Easy

What the bloody hell inspired Earth Girls Are Easy? When someone sat down to write the screenplay, how many shrooms were ingested first? This is one of the goofiest fucking movies I've ever seen. Even the cast list causes a fair amount of head-scratching: Geena Davis, Jeff Goldblum, Damon Wayans, Jim Carrey, Julie Brown, Charles Rocket, and Michael McKean. And how are these people combined? Well, Geena Davis is engaged to Charles Rocket, who cheats on her left and right. And she works at a beauty parlor (Curl Up & Dye) with Julie Brown. And her pool boy is an aging stoner (McKean). And then furry aliens Goldblum, Wayans, and Carrey land in her pool, get shaved, and become the hottie toasts of Los Angeles. And Geena Davis and Jeff Goldblum fall in love and she goes to space with him.

And have I mentioned that it's a musical, complete with song and dance breaks? It's completely nuts. And yet, somehow, it all totally works. Sure, it's a stupid movie. But it's stupid and monstrously entertaining. I...may have even bought the soundtrack (sadly, it's long since been lost in the shuffle of moving). Would I recommend it to anyone interested in the Majesty of Cinema? Hell, no. But it's certainly a movie that worms its way into your heart and lays eggs there. And I dare you to watch and not get "Cause I'm a Blonde" stuck in your head for a week.

Guilty Pleasure: Peggy Sue Got Married

I went back and forth on this one. Is Peggy Sue Got Married a member of the Pantheon or a Guilty Pleasure? I mean, it stars all sorts of big names, was directed by Francis Ford Coppola, and has endured long enough in our collective pop culture memory to show up on TV from time to time. On the other hand, Nicolas Cage. I ultimately went with Guilty Pleasure, because when I was asked what so entranced me as to keep me up half the night, I was hesitant to admit it was this movie. Eh, whatever. I legitimately love it either way.

There really isn't that much to it. Kathleen Turner faints at her high school reunion, and wakes up back in the '60s. Half the movie is simply her reacting to encountering the younger versions of her friends and family, but she manages to nail every single one of those scenes, making me feel just as emotional as she does. The rest of it is her wrestling with the decision to remain with Nicolas Cage or not, since back in the present, they're in the midst of a divorce.

This movie belongs to a select group I call the Vortex, meaning that no matter what I'm doing, if I run across it, I'll sit slack-jawed and watch the whole thing. I don't even know that I'd call it particularly well-crafted, but there's no denying that it's magnetic. The score certainly helps; the background theme is heartbreaking. Aside from that, it's very difficult to describe what makes this movie so engaging to me, but damned if it doesn't warm my heart every single time.

Sappy Endings

What I'm Watching: Once Upon a Time - Season 1

I always have a lot of missed television shows sitting around my Netflix queue, waiting for me to catch up with them. The other night, I was struck by a random urge to start up the first season of Once Upon a Time. I'm just going to go ahead and stick a "Guilty Pleasure" tag on this entry here and now, because while there's no way I would ever be able to advocate for this show based on the level of its writing or acting, I find it inexplicably magnetic.

It must be a magic spell, cast on me to happily abandon any stringent demands of subtle storytelling or layered character development. It doesn't even matter that Jared S. Gilmore causes one of the worst cases of Insufferable Child Syndrome I've ever seen. The moment I find myself with free time, I devour another episode, to the point that I may just catch up with Season 2 (currently airing) by Thanksgiving.

Once Upon a Time actually shows encouraging signs of addressing all of its issues as I zoom along through the first season, but let's be honest. Even if it had remained a cheesefest with laughable CGI, I'd still be glued to the screen.

Guilty Pleasure: Hocus Pocus

With a lot of guilty pleasures, we are accursed to suffer in silence. Who will sit and watch Midnight Madness with me? Not many. But some guilty pleasures catch on with a mass audience, and we can revel in the wretched glory together.

Halloween is almost upon us, which means for it's time for the 1993 movie Hocus Pocus to light up our television screens. Is it fine cinema? It is not. But I love it unironically, and each year, I learn of legions and legions of other fans who also can't get enough of the Sanderson sisters.

I'm not sure why this is. There isn't much to the story, or the acting, or the production design, or the script, or anything. But it's such silly fun, I can't help but get swept up in the enthusiasm. Hocus Pocus gets me into the Halloween mood faster than any Friday the 13th movie ever could, and I don't have to worry about averting my eyes for any gory bits. Best of all, it has contributed a quote that works wonders in the daily lexicon.

So get out there and light some black flame candles, you virgins. I put a spell on you. Soon you will join me in my inexplicable love for this cheese-fest.

Guilty Pleasure: Midnight Madness

What do Winnie the Pooh, Grease, Pee-Wee's Big Adventure, The Simpsons, An American Werewolf in London, Anna and the King, Animal House, and Family Ties all have in common? They all involve people who star in one of the silliest movies of all time. Midnight Madness is a perfect example of a guilty pleasure; it cannot by any measure be called a successful movie, but I love it just the same. It has no weight to it at all. The story in a nutshell: an eccentric weirdo plans out a city-wide scavenger hunt in Los Angeles, then eggs various college rivals into forming teams to compete. Hijinks ensue. In fact, this movie may be nothing but hijinks. It has absolutely no nuance to it, but you could probably guess that after seeing this:

In a way, this movie perfectly represents all of the wacky '80s competition movies, from The Wizard to Girls Just Want to Have Fun, but manages to be far zanier than all of the rest put together. All the tropes are present and accounted for, from the dumb jocks to the noble protagonists to the evil cheaters. This was Michael J. Fox's movie debut, and though I doubt he shouts that fact from the hills, he doesn't fare any worse than the rest of the cast.

The acting is hammy. The jokes are broader than the Pacific Ocean. The plot is wafer-thin. And yet, I snapped up the DVD, and will happily watch it whenever I have the chance.

Guilty Pleasure: Death Becomes Her

Ooh, it's Friday the 13th! I should write about something scary. Or at least morbid. Of course, writing about morbid pieces of entertainment is hardly anything unusual for me, but I'm trying to keep to a theme here. I was puttering around my apartment last night, and wanted to watch something I enjoy, but don't have to pay overly close attention to. My eye fell on Death Becomes Her, and that was that.

It's often tough to distinguish between a guilty pleasure and an underrated movie. Neither one is particularly loved or respected by the world at large, but I'd say that an underrated movie is one you feel should have been praised more highly, while a guilty pleasure is something you know is crappy, but adore it anyway. Death Becomes Her pretty definitively falls into the guilty pleasure category; I don't think anyone's out there arguing that it should have gotten more critical acclaim. That's not to say it didn't get any. Its special effects were pretty remarkable for 1992 - so much so that it won an Oscar for them.

This movie is hammier than Easter. Meryl Streep, Goldie Hawn, and Isabella Rossellini take turns chewing the scenery as vain, selfish immortals, while Bruce Willis does his best to be the lovable goof in the center of the whirlwind. I like Bruce Willis in general, but his is the least successful performance here. I'm not sure why Meryl Streep's wild overacting works, while Willis' doesn't, but then, it's Meryl Streep. Everything she does works.

Luckily, I don't have to defend a guilty pleasure. I know how spastic, shallow, and just plain weird this movie is, and I don't care. There are plot holes you could pilot the International Space Station through, and I don't care. I'm not proud of loving Death Becomes Her, but love it I do.