“Wordplay” Documentary Puzzlingly Capricious

“Wordplay” is a documentary about crossword puzzles that fails to get its point across. You’d think contriving some abstract zen message about a subject matter as mundane as the New York Times crossword puzzle would be straightforward. You interview some docile puzzle enthusiasts, collect B-roll of them filling out their puzzles (alone) at well-lit dining room tables and bring the footage home with some light jazz music you’d expect to hear in a Pixar animated feature about the life of a Central Park bench. Round out the gentle enthusiasm of the casual players with a gaggle of competitive crossword puzzle players, which exist(!), and you’ve got the makings of a documentary that showcases a daring, subversive philosophy: take your own pace, gratify yourself, and embrace the minutiae. I am sorry to report that “Wordplay” is not a movie that understands its own tragic irony, because halfway through, I was more stressed, and confused, and angry, than I have been in a lukewarm minute.

At first, “Wordplay” seemed like a movie comfortable in its own drab skin. Black and white title card, fade to monotone voiceovers, cradled by piano keys content at a medium pace. B-roll of an NPR studio, then a park, then a diner. No one under the age of thirty to be found. I imagine a similar video is played for AARP initiates.

And you know what? I rather like this “Wordplay.” It’s charming. It simmers — not boils — in a sodium-free broth. Boring? Sure. But not pretentious. This first half emanates no sense of urgency whatsoever. It holds your hand through the world of crossword puzzles. The process. Here’s how you make a puzzle. And look, here’re people who play puzzles! And here’s why they play puzzles! Oh, joy. The best part? It’s no rush, not even when the film highlights the competitive crossword players. Ellen Ripstein, for example, a champion at the national level of crossword puzzle competition, is smiley, speaks slowly and, above all, always seems approachable. What does she think of competitive crossword puzzle play? “It’s a kind of nerdy thing,” she says, “but it’s neat.” Wow. Easily digestible. No rush. Every piece of the puzzle has its own quaint box.

What then, is frustrating about “Wordplay,” is how eagerly it abandons such an effective formula. The second half of the film focuses exclusively on the competitive side of crosswords, following the top contestants’ trials and tribulations at the national championships in Stanford, Connecticut. Drama; Suspense!; tragedy; the road to glory. Hey! Who the heck turned off all the unassuming good feelings? Bring back Bill Clinton and Bob Dole bonding over clever crossword answers! If “Wordplay” takes such a dire route this far into the film, the entire first act was effectively spent lulling me into a false sense of security. That’s betrayal.

What’s worse, after 45 minutes of tension, the competition ends, and just as quickly as it left, the light jazz and cafe philosophy picks back up. As if I’m to forget all this excitement ever happened. Just a violent daydream. The kicker? The championships arc was the most boring, impersonal part of the entire film. Yes, yes, there’s a three-way tie for first place between the country’s top players, and it’s all very tense, but these are crossword puzzles. I was just shown over thirty minutes of footage proving to me why they’re relaxing. I don’t care about the standings at all (nor the results, for that matter) and it’s this movie’s fickle attitude to blame.

If “Wordplay” wore its dullness on its sleeves it would have been a far more satisfying movie. Simple. “Jiro Dreams of Sushi,” for example, is a film about octogenarians shopping for fish and making rice in a train station. But its simplicity retains elegance. The music is slow, classical, and warm; interviews are friendly and personal; things never get too speedy. You learn to savor the minute because it is unique. (Note: no national sushi competition storyline to be found.)

Crossword puzzles — like sushi — are satisfying in relation to whoever completes them. Take your time. Get gratified. Revel. This philosophy could have been the entree, not the appetizer, in a film about crossword puzzles and it confuses me why “Wordplay” didn’t stick with it. Unfortunately the documentary, equipped with robust ideological shoring and a novel concept, couldn’t be helped to take the hint. What a downer.

I’m Jay Gatsby, Sucka’

I’m Jay Gatsby.

Or at least that’s what Corynne Hogan thinks. Corynne recently wrote an article about me in The Chronicle, William Mason High School’s student-run newspaper and free pizza coupon distribution service. It’s titled, “Hakes brings elegance to Regal Cinemas, hosting English premiere for The Great Gatsby.”

Elegance? Bless her.

In all seriousness, though, the article is very well-written and I only come off as partially mentally handicapped when quoted. It’s essentially about how I bought out a theater and invited a bunch of dweebs to watch Baz Luhrmann’s telling of The Great Gatsby. In the article, I eventually talk about the philosophy behind why I set up the party and why the book is so popular, but I wouldn’t take my word for it; the interview was on the spot and Corynne was eating cake right in front of me and I was hungry and nervous. But don’t tell her I said that.

Kidding. I had some semblance of an idea as to why the book is so popular, but what you really want to pay attention to is the interview with Lori Roth, my English teacher/guru. She actually has a degree on this stuff, so listen to her.

Roth also just gave me a card and a notebook for setting the whole thing up today. The notebook is splendid. I finally have a good place to write my erotic Power Rangers fanfiction It is a really great gift. And it has the cover of The Great Gatsby as the actual cover. Which pretty much makes my life (P.S. if you want a copy, go to www.outofprintclothing.com. They also sell tees, sweaters, and other things you should never let your hipster friends know about).

But I digress, this article is absolutely super. It’s very telling of the hysteria behind Subarashii no Gatsubi-chan and my last quote is pretty damn quotable, if I do say so myself. If you haven’t seen the movie yet, I highly recommend it. The ending is positively rapturous. Seriously, I raptured so hard I needed a change of pants.

The Grisly Murder of the Great American Horror Film

Pictured: The freakin’ Thing

John Carpenter’s science fiction horror film, The Thing, was released in 1982. In it, a small team of Americans at an Antarctic Research Station encounter a helicopter full of frantic Norwegians hunting down an Alaskan Malamute. The helicopter explodes, and the Americans take the dog to their kennels. Unbeknownst to them, the dog is actually a demented creature from another world. One by one, the crew is driven to insanity by the ever-looming fear of the thing that lurks in the darkness . . .

Fast-forward to the year 2012. Paranormal Activity 4 is released in theaters. Rotten Tomatoes gives it an aggregate score of 26%. Modern horror movies reach a cathartic point as the “found footage” genre takes a final plummet. Rehashes of the same type of film try to copy off of each other in an attempt to squish the most “jump scares” into 90 minutes as possible whilst under a pathetic budget. The last bastion of decent horror movies in America falls.
I find it pretty disgusting that the industry has sunk this low. Not to sound preachy, but we really could do better.
Starting with Cannibal Holocaust in 1980, “found footage” films – movies from the perspective of an observer, usually on a fairly low budget – have been a respected genre, being popularized by The Blair Witch Project in 1999. These movies can portray horror very well. By being from the perspective of an observer, these movies add a new sense of realism for the viewer. Unlike conventional horror movies, found footage films tend to remove all aspects of dramatic irony from the film. We don’t know that there is a monster behind the protagonist because she’s pointing the camera in the other direction. Only until it is too late do we share the experience of dread with the character.

Unfortunately, as of recent, many production crews have used this technique to put cheap jump scares into their films (If you browse through Netflix’s horror section, you can find a miasma of examples). This, by all intents and purposes, is hella not cool. Movies like [REC] and Cloverfield used these techniques to build a sense of intensity and dread in the viewer. It’s not supposed to be a mechanism to play spooky peek-a-boo with the audience, as flicks such as Paranormal Entity tend to do.

The equivalent of modern horror movies

The problem here is movie makers need to respect their audience. Wes Craven did it well in The Last House on the Left in 1972 by intertwining a rape narrative with a story of redemption, laced with dramatic irony. Guillermo del Toro perfected the art of chilling ambiance with his 2007 film, El Orfanato. Movies like these have made intimate connections with the viewer by respecting his desire to be scared. They don’t deliver cheap thrills. They drag out the experience and make it savory for people like me. These movies are like a filet mignon. You want to cherish the taste and the flavor because it’s beautiful. The experience will be with you for a long time after the meal. Movies like Paranormal Activity 38 or Saw 7.5 are like candy. They’re short, they’re sweet, and you’re always left wanting more until you get a headache.

Dear horror movies, please stop giving me headaches.