The Babysitter (1980, Peter Medak)

The Babysitter is too technically proficient for its own good. It’s a wannabe prestige lurid TV movie about eighteen-year-old girl with a past (early twenties Stephanie Zimbalist) worming her way into a seemingly perfect family only to reveal all the cracks within.

Except it’s not a seemingly perfect family—and not even by the end, actually—with recovering alcoholic mom Patty Duke, distant dentist dad William Shatner, and chronic affluenza suffering twelve-year-old daughter Quinn Cummings. Cummings was the Oscar-nominated star of The Goodbye Girl at this point, so it makes sense when Babysitter is all about her at the beginning.

Mom Duke got so drunk so often she embarrassed the family out of Chicago, so Shatner’s set them up on a commuter island near Seattle. He’s neglecting Duke and Cummings to further his career—it’s the closest Babysitter comes to a subplot for Shatner, who’s otherwise pursuing or refusing Zimbalist. But Duke’s miserable having to hang out with Cummings, who’s on all sorts of medication for unnamed illnesses (don’t worry, they forget about it by the third scene), especially while having to stay sober.

So when Zimbalist starts hanging out with Cummings, both mooning over dreamy sixteen-year-old neighbor David Wysocki, Duke sees an opportunity. Zimbalist is a poor kid who’d been working as a nanny or something, and she needs a job. Likewise, Duke needs someone to keep Cummings occupied. It’s a win-win.

After a rapid montage for Zimbalist and Cummings, Cummings—Oscar-nominated Cummings—is basically out of the movie. The second act is about Zimbalist becoming Duke’s only confidant, advising Duke about her shitty marriage to Shatner while also trying to seduce Shatner away from Duke. The third act’s all the thriller stuff, mainly with Zimbalist and Shatner, but also John Houseman as the busybody neighbor who decides to investigate Zimbalist.

It also means there’s very little room for Cummings and Duke in the third act—but even Zimbalist starts getting pushed out too. The movie’s never clear whose bad dream it’s supposed to be—director Medak tries to focus on each character to give them a shot on the protagonist stage, but no one takes it. Or can’t take it in time. Medak and writer Jennifer Miller manage to be too quick with character moments while dragging out everything else.

As a result, it’s hard to care for the finale, especially since the main cast stands around to listen to a monologue no one cares about. The movie only realizes in the last few moments Zimbalist might be due some empathy as well, except the character motivation is so erratic it’s not worth the effort.

There’s some good acting from Duke. Houseman’s really bored as the investigating neighbor, but he’s got some charm. Shatner’s better before he’s got to play shitheel. Cummings is grating, but it’s the writing.

Babysitter doesn’t have an original score, and the stock music seems a little out of date—too groovy seventies—which makes the movie feel campy, except no one’s doing camp. Especially not with Redford L. Metz’s genuinely outstanding photography. Medak’s got a real lack of consistent tone, but it’s not Metz’s fault at all. Babysitter’s got swell lighting; Medak just doesn’t know what to do with it.

Maybe a real score would’ve helped since they really leverage montage sequences with music… who knows.

During the second act, while the movie’s about Duke, it seems like it’ll have to have an okay finish. The Babysitter doesn’t deliver, but it seems like it could for a while.

Evil (2019) s02e07 – S Is for Silence

Silence is a humdinger of a concept episode. It’s so good it doesn’t even matter at least two plot questions never get resolved or even seriously addressed. However, one of them presumably will come up later in the season, involving an unexpected character. The team is investigating a possible sainthood at a monastery. It’s a silent monastery—it figures into the plot—so no talking. It’s also super-sexist, so Katja Herbers can’t play with the boys when they’re doing the saint investigation.

Instead, Herbers has to bond with young nun Alexandra Socha, who’s doing a bunch of manual labor while the monks sit around and pray. The monastery makes wine, and Socha gets the taste of recycling bottles and whiskey-soaking the barrels to sell said wine to hipsters. Socha turns out to be really important to the episode mystery, and the relationship between her and Herbers is easily the best single episode character development the show’s ever done. Excellent acting from Herbers and Socha, who never get to talk.

While Herbers has that arc—and generally gets cast aside from the main plot for her girl parts—Mike Colter and Aasif Mandvi also have their own plot lines. They’re only ever able to talk when they can get off the property (otherwise speaking will unleash a demon in the monastery because Catholicism is silly), so everyone’s got to get through their own plot, mostly on their own. Mandvi’s investigating the miracles and the demon and gets scared. He also gets to bond with one of the monks over geek stuff.

Colter bonds with boss monk Kenneth Tigar (a very familiar character actor who’s delightful here) and thinks about maybe joining the silent order and just escaping the world. Colter gets the best self-reflection scene, which includes thought subtitles. They’re well-executed and well-written, but also really funny. And remind when “Evil” might be able to have a little more fun. This episode’s a break from the travails of the main plot lines; it’s almost wholly detached, save one of the big unresolved plot questions, which—thanks to some horrifying events—works out reasonably well.

Great acting from everyone, excellent direction—from show co-creator Robert King (he and other co-creator Michelle King get the script credit). It really shows off the potential of “Evil,” given the cast's ability and the creators' imagination.

There’s also a “Star Trek” reference, which seems really appropriate for “Evil” (now streaming exclusively on Paramount+), and an excellent sense of humor. The bonding arc between Herbers and Socha will probably be a series high, though I’d be surprised if they’re ever able to get a better overall episode out, either. Silence is a sublime success.

Phantasm II (1988, Don Coscarelli)

The first Phantasm wasn’t just an exercise in inventive low budget filmmaking, it dealt with the cultural fear of cemeteries. The second film has no such allusions. In fact, it’s just an example of bad low budget filmmaking. Clearly–and one can just google for more information–there were a lot of behind the scenes squabbles between director Coscarelli and Universal Pictures… but knowing the reasons for the problems doesn’t make them go away.

First and foremost is James LeGros. He worked again after Phantasm II, which doesn’t seem possible. He adds a cartoony atmosphere to it–a way too buff (considering he’d just spent seven years in a mental institution) blond-haired emo kid. It’s such a terrible role–Coscarelli, regardless of studio interference, shares some of the blame as his writing for the character is atrocious–I’m using the term “emo” for the first time on The Stop Button.

I think.

But Coscarelli doesn’t only write bad stuff here–he writes lots of good stuff for Reggie Bannister, lots of funny material. The sex scene between Bannister and Samantha Phillips (who’s more annoyingly mediocre than bad) is absolutely hilarious, as she reveals she has a fetish for bald men–Bannister’s reaction is fantastic.

The ostensible female lead–Paula Irvine–is pretty much a lame eighties ingénue, but not bad.

And Coscarelli also turns Angus Scrimm’s previously nearly silent and very scary Tall Man into a talkative and lame eighties horror movie villain.

Some good effects–but otherwise disastrous.

0/4ⓏⒺⓇⓄ

CREDITS

Written and directed by Don Coscarelli; director of photography, Daryn Okada; edited by Peter Teschner; music by Fred Myrow and Christopher L. Stone; production designer, Philip Duffin; produced by Roberto A. Quezada; released by Universal Pictures.

Starring James LeGros (Mike), Reggie Bannister (Reggie), Angus Scrimm (The Tall Man), Paula Irvine (Liz), Samantha Phillips (Alchemy), Kenneth Tigar (Father Meyers), Ruth C. Engel (Grandma), Mark Anthony Major (Mortician), Rubin Kushner (Grandpa) and Stacey Travis (Jeri).


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