deerstalker
https://blackgirlnerds.com/cult-classics-con-air-is-straight-boy-camp/
Here’s the thing about reviewing Con Air: it’s impossible to define it in terms of “good” or “bad” filmmaking.
Take, for instance, its Rotten Tomatoes critics’ score. 55% is about what I’d expect from this film. It so divided critics that there’s apparently an equal amount of goodwill and disgust for this film. Look at the legacy of its soundtrack’s centerpiece, Trisha Yearwood’s version of LeAnn Rimes’s “How Do I Live.” Like the film for which it was penned, the song has a divisive legacy. In 1997 it was nominated for both an Academy Award and a Golden Raspberry for Best Original Song and Worst Original Song respectively. Sadly (?), the song lost in both categories.
So, no, a typical review will not do for this particular film. What will be more interesting, at least for me, is to figure out why and how this film can seemingly be two things at once: namely, the best action film ever or a prime example of Hollywood’s contempt for basic intelligence.
Looking at the evidence, I will determine whether or not this film is bad on purpose, or if there’s a reason John Malkovich and John Cusack have all but disowned it. In short, I believe this film is bad to the point of being camp. Not “campy.” Pure, unadulterated “camp.” But unlike the queer-centric camp of old, Con Air is something new, something preposterously fantastic. Con Air, my friends, is straight-boy camp.
To prove this, however, I’ll first have to define what “camp” is.
In general, as previously stated, camp is generally associated with queer culture — drag, Cher, and the films of John Waters. It is ostentatious and bombastic. It’s so bad that it’s good. In a New York Times interview, “Notes on ‘Camp’” author Susan Sontag describes a campy mood as one that is “serious about the frivolous [and] frivolous about the serious.”
So, the question now becomes, does Con Air fit these criteria? Well, it’s honestly hard to say.
On the one hand, it is certainly serious about its ludacris content. Take its inciting incident. The film asks us to wholeheartedly believe that former U.S. Army Ranger Cameron Poe (Nicolas Cage) would spend even half a minute in a holding cell after such a clear-cut case of self-defense.
It expects us to believe that a staunchly red state like Alabama — where the law allows the use of deadly physical force in the case of usually non-violent crimes like burglary — would convict a VETERAN of murder after a man pulled a knife on him and his PREGNANT wife. If you believe that setup, I have a lovely beach house in Idaho to sell you.
No, Con Air doesn’t treat Poe’s conviction with winks and nods at the silliness of it all. It asks us to sympathize with a man caught in a bad situation that’s about to get worse. Allegedly, producer Jerry Bruckheimer loved the script but wanted to add “more heart.”
What he got were scenes so saccharine that I actually identified more with Cyrus the Virus (Malkovich) as he’s mocking the letters Poe’s daughter sent. The heart-on-its-sleeve approach the film opts to take is perhaps why it is so cheesily campy, or, at least, why it can be perceived as being so.
Unlike other action flicks of the 80s and 90s, this film seems to want to be more. It wants one-liners, boom-bang shootouts, and even a “hilarious” dose of transphobia like those other films might have. It also wants teary eyes in the crowd as Poe finally reunites with his daughter.
How can you square these impulses? You can’t. Not unless you’re willing to say that it is straight-boy camp — camp made for the “drinking Mountain Dew and eating Doritos in front of 7/11 at 10pm” crowd.
Con Air is straight-boy camp because it never laughs at its audience for wanting to see things as hokey as a stuffed suit’s prized Corvette being dropped from an airplane and crushed. It provides viewers with the, um, fun(?) of being on a plane full of freshly escaped convicts rocking out to “Sweet Home Alabama” thinking they’ve finally gotten away.
It ends not with one, but with two separate climaxes. One where a plane lands on the Las Vegas strip, and another where the leads get into a motorcycle/firetruck chase wherein the good guys get into a shootout/water-hosing with the main bad guy.
If the movie fails at certain camp criteria, it’s because it refuses to pick apart its “serious” scenes.
We aren’t meant to laugh at Poe and his family reuniting. We aren’t meant to laugh at Cage’s dramatic line readings, and especially not at his actually hilarious “I’m gonna show you God does exist” scene. It’s all really supposed to be oh-so-serious.
In a movie where Pinball’s body hitting an elderly couple’s car is played for laughs, and Malkovich seems to be having the time of his life, what are we to do with these disparate and seemingly incongruent parts?
The only thing I can say is its camp, or at least something akin to it.
Con Air exists as a divisive film because it puts as much attention into being cheesy as it does to being sincere without ever letting on which tone it actually aims to achieve. Witness: the heavy metal score and its juxtaposition with an admittedly fine vocal performance by Yearwood; the tonal whiplash of asking us to watch a man’s head get crushed by a hydraulic press and then weep tears of joy at Poe’s meeting his daughter for the first time; the requiring us in general not to think Cage’s Snoop from The Wire accent is peak comedy. Combine that with its heteronormativity, its explosions, and its essential Boys Club mentality, and you have a prime example of what I would call straight-boy camp.
Then again, there’s always the chance that this movie just sucks. At this point, I hardly even know myself.
Con Air is available on Amazon Prime Video.
Here’s the thing about reviewing Con Air: it’s impossible to define it in terms of “good” or “bad” filmmaking.
Take, for instance, its Rotten Tomatoes critics’ score. 55% is about what I’d expect from this film. It so divided critics that there’s apparently an equal amount of goodwill and disgust for this film. Look at the legacy of its soundtrack’s centerpiece, Trisha Yearwood’s version of LeAnn Rimes’s “How Do I Live.” Like the film for which it was penned, the song has a divisive legacy. In 1997 it was nominated for both an Academy Award and a Golden Raspberry for Best Original Song and Worst Original Song respectively. Sadly (?), the song lost in both categories.
So, no, a typical review will not do for this particular film. What will be more interesting, at least for me, is to figure out why and how this film can seemingly be two things at once: namely, the best action film ever or a prime example of Hollywood’s contempt for basic intelligence.
Looking at the evidence, I will determine whether or not this film is bad on purpose, or if there’s a reason John Malkovich and John Cusack have all but disowned it. In short, I believe this film is bad to the point of being camp. Not “campy.” Pure, unadulterated “camp.” But unlike the queer-centric camp of old, Con Air is something new, something preposterously fantastic. Con Air, my friends, is straight-boy camp.
To prove this, however, I’ll first have to define what “camp” is.
In general, as previously stated, camp is generally associated with queer culture — drag, Cher, and the films of John Waters. It is ostentatious and bombastic. It’s so bad that it’s good. In a New York Times interview, “Notes on ‘Camp’” author Susan Sontag describes a campy mood as one that is “serious about the frivolous [and] frivolous about the serious.”
So, the question now becomes, does Con Air fit these criteria? Well, it’s honestly hard to say.
On the one hand, it is certainly serious about its ludacris content. Take its inciting incident. The film asks us to wholeheartedly believe that former U.S. Army Ranger Cameron Poe (Nicolas Cage) would spend even half a minute in a holding cell after such a clear-cut case of self-defense.
It expects us to believe that a staunchly red state like Alabama — where the law allows the use of deadly physical force in the case of usually non-violent crimes like burglary — would convict a VETERAN of murder after a man pulled a knife on him and his PREGNANT wife. If you believe that setup, I have a lovely beach house in Idaho to sell you.
No, Con Air doesn’t treat Poe’s conviction with winks and nods at the silliness of it all. It asks us to sympathize with a man caught in a bad situation that’s about to get worse. Allegedly, producer Jerry Bruckheimer loved the script but wanted to add “more heart.”
What he got were scenes so saccharine that I actually identified more with Cyrus the Virus (Malkovich) as he’s mocking the letters Poe’s daughter sent. The heart-on-its-sleeve approach the film opts to take is perhaps why it is so cheesily campy, or, at least, why it can be perceived as being so.
Unlike other action flicks of the 80s and 90s, this film seems to want to be more. It wants one-liners, boom-bang shootouts, and even a “hilarious” dose of transphobia like those other films might have. It also wants teary eyes in the crowd as Poe finally reunites with his daughter.
How can you square these impulses? You can’t. Not unless you’re willing to say that it is straight-boy camp — camp made for the “drinking Mountain Dew and eating Doritos in front of 7/11 at 10pm” crowd.
Con Air is straight-boy camp because it never laughs at its audience for wanting to see things as hokey as a stuffed suit’s prized Corvette being dropped from an airplane and crushed. It provides viewers with the, um, fun(?) of being on a plane full of freshly escaped convicts rocking out to “Sweet Home Alabama” thinking they’ve finally gotten away.
It ends not with one, but with two separate climaxes. One where a plane lands on the Las Vegas strip, and another where the leads get into a motorcycle/firetruck chase wherein the good guys get into a shootout/water-hosing with the main bad guy.
If the movie fails at certain camp criteria, it’s because it refuses to pick apart its “serious” scenes.
We aren’t meant to laugh at Poe and his family reuniting. We aren’t meant to laugh at Cage’s dramatic line readings, and especially not at his actually hilarious “I’m gonna show you God does exist” scene. It’s all really supposed to be oh-so-serious.
In a movie where Pinball’s body hitting an elderly couple’s car is played for laughs, and Malkovich seems to be having the time of his life, what are we to do with these disparate and seemingly incongruent parts?
The only thing I can say is its camp, or at least something akin to it.
Con Air exists as a divisive film because it puts as much attention into being cheesy as it does to being sincere without ever letting on which tone it actually aims to achieve. Witness: the heavy metal score and its juxtaposition with an admittedly fine vocal performance by Yearwood; the tonal whiplash of asking us to watch a man’s head get crushed by a hydraulic press and then weep tears of joy at Poe’s meeting his daughter for the first time; the requiring us in general not to think Cage’s Snoop from The Wire accent is peak comedy. Combine that with its heteronormativity, its explosions, and its essential Boys Club mentality, and you have a prime example of what I would call straight-boy camp.
Then again, there’s always the chance that this movie just sucks. At this point, I hardly even know myself.
Con Air is available on Amazon Prime Video.
Today Pharrell announced on his Instagram and via press release the date and lineup of the Something In The Water music festival. The festival will take place in Washington, DC on Juneteenth weekend, June 17th – 19th. Building on the success of 2019’s inaugural event, Something In The Water returns in 2022 with expanded programming across three stages, situated in the heart of our nation’s capital, directly on Independence Avenue and its adjacent streets.
Three-day passes will go on sale to the general public beginning Saturday, April 30th at 10am local time at SOMETHINGINTHEWATER.COM.
Later today, past purchasers of Something In The Water passes will receive an exclusive “Loyalty Presale” code for the 2022 festival. The “Loyalty Presale” will take place on Wednesday, April 27 from 10am ET until Thursday, April 28 at 10pm ET at SOMETHINGINTHEWATER.COM.
* Limited tiered pricing. Only available while supplies last.
In addition, Virginia residents will have special access to a “Virginia Locals Only” presale taking place on Friday, April 29 from 10:00am ET through 5:00pm ET. Residents can purchase festival passes in-person at the Veterans United Home Loans Amphitheater at Virginia Beach box office, (restricted to VA zip codes). Fees are waived for the in-person purchase.
2020’s Something In The Water festival was postponed due to the COVID pandemic. And this past year, the controversial police coverup of the homicide of Donovon Lynch, the cousin of Pharrell Williams, led the music festival founder to leave Virginia Beach, Virginia and move to Washington D.C.
In a public statement to the city, Williams said: “I love my city, but for far too long it has been run by — and with toxic energy. The toxic energy that changed the narrative several times around the homicide of my cousin, Donovon Lynch, a citizen of Virginia, is the same toxic energy that changed the narrative around the mass murder and senseless loss of life at Building Number 2.”
Many local residents of Virginia Beach, especially Black residents and people of color have supported Williams’ decision to move the festival and empathize with his anger over the police’s senseless regard and lack of transparency over the fatal shooting of Mr. Lynch.
The Something In The Water festival will start June 17-19 2022 on Independence Ave in Washington D.C. For more information go to SOMETHINGINTHEWATER.COM.
We’re sad to report the comic book series Raising Dion distributed by Netflix will not come back for a third season.
According to a post on Instagram from Raising Dion star Sammi Haney, she wrote: Sad to say that Raising Dion is CANCELED [sic] Thank you for all of the amazing support we got from all of our wonderful fans! Season 2 was a success, equal to Season 1, even if just looking at how many people watched all of it and wanted a season 3!
Black Girl Nerds recently interviewed actor Rome Flynn on the BGN Podcast to discuss his new role in season 2 of the series. Season 2 of Raising Dion follows the story of Nicole (Alisha Wainwright) and her son Dion (Ja’Siah Young) after Dion starts to manifest several mysterious, superhero-like abilities. Two years after defeating the Crooked Man (Jason Ritter), Season Two follows Dion as he continues honing his powers with the support of his mom and Tevin (Rome Flynn), his Biona trainer who catches Nicole’s eye. After befriending new student Brayden (Griffin Robert Faulkner) — a fellow powered kid — a series of alarming events unfold, and Dion learns that danger is still looming. Navigating twists, turns, and surprise visitors, Dion and Nicole must prevail again — not just to save themselves, but the entire city of Atlanta.
Variety also confirmed the news is true about the series cancelation.
Apple TV+’s new series Shining Girls is an adaptation of the novel The Shining Girls by Lauren Beukes. Starring Elizabeth Moss, Wagner Moura, Jamie Bell, and Phillipa Soo, the series visualizes a time-traveling thriller that will have you enthralled to the very end.
Silka Luisa was at the helm, adapting the popular novel for Apple TV+. Along with a production team of mostly women, Luisa has created a serial killer story where the women are the focal point. The survivors finally have some say in their fates. While she’s mostly acted as a producer, Luisa’s passion projects like Strange Angel and The Wilding have prepared her for her first time as showrunner.
The series follows Kirby (Elizabeth Moss), aka Sharon, a young aspiring journalist who was attacked in the ‘80s. Since the attack, she experiences unexplainable shifts in her life. She keeps a journal with important facts, like whether she owns a cat or a dog, and her husband’s birthday that she just woke up to find.
It’s all very disconcerting, and you instantly feel for Kirby and her plight. A murder in the city that mimics her own causes her to investigate and find the killer before he strikes again. With the help of Dan (Wagner Moura), a down-and-out journalist trying to make his way back to respectability, Kirby tries to finally get back the control she’s lost.
I had the pleasure of zooming with showrunner Silk Luisa about the series themes.
While reading a synopsis for the book, it mentioned that Harper (Jamie Bell) had to commit the murders to continue traveling. I know that is different in the series and to great effect. Can you tell us about other changes made?
The message of the book and the themes are very much the same, but I changed the structure. The book is structured so that you’re with Harper for a substantial amount of time, and with multiple female points of view.
I focused on Kirby’s point of view because she is the character I felt most connected to. In doing that, I actually changed a lot of the mythology to work better for that structure. Much of the reality shifting comes from having an incredibly subjecting point of view.
I really did like that it focused on Kirby. It was good to hone in on one person’s experience, especially with her being the sole survivor.
I wanted to talk about trauma more pointedly. All of the mythology was built to mirror the aftermath of her trauma. All these years later, how you, out of nowhere, can just have that violence come and upend your world. It’s very isolating.
What was it like creating the timeline? We go in many different directions. What was the process like?
It was challenging [laughs]! I’m not gonna lie. In a writer’s room, if you try and really crack time, it will not work. You’ll spend days just spinning out. So the way we approached it was to keep it from a very subjective point of view. We only experience time in our narrow view. So it was always, ‘Okay, I’m with Kirby, what was her Monday? What’s her Tuesday?’ For each character, we had different charts about their own chronology.
Kirby wakes up and has several things different about her life. What do you think this says about the future, is it predetermined? Do we have a little more control over it? Or is it somewhere in the middle?
I believe the whole show is about reclaiming your narrative and finding agency. So personally, like my personal philosophy, I feel like you can always change. Just like other people can affect your string, you can affect your own string and alter things in your own life. I’m a big proponent of having agency.
I also love that it was set in the ‘90s. Not just for the nostalgia trip, but the mechanism of no cell phones and the cars and the clothes.
We did a lot of research in terms of getting the ‘90s accurate. That was really important because a lot of it was from my memory, but the series is set in a very specific place. I’m from Miami, not Chicago, and it’s set in a newsroom. It’s its own ecosystem. The lack of cell phones is fantastic for a mystery. We toyed with making it modern-day to make all of our lives easier, but having a mystery where you don’t have Google and you have to actually do door to door reporting-
And use microfiche!
Yes! I was incredibly nostalgic for it. It’s so tactile. It gets you out and really talking to people.
Another nostalgic thing I enjoyed was the way Kirby was regarded as a woman. It was so interesting because although a lot has changed… not a lot has changed. It’s interesting to think about the fact that if you’d pitched this movie back in the ‘90s where it didn’t glorify the bad guy, it probably wouldn’t have gotten made.
One thing I think Lauren’s book did beautifully was it felt like it wasn’t about the action and violence of the trauma, it was more about the aftermath. It really gave voice to the impact of the attack. It was really tricky carrying that through in terms of Harper.
I didn’t want him to be a very sexy serial killer or act like he was really smart or exciting. Kirby is the anchor. However, we spend a lot of time with him so we still have to develop him as a character and try and understand why he is the way he is.
A lot of talent contributed to directing including Elizabeth Moss herself.
Yes! We had three directors, Michelle MacLaren (Breaking Bad) who did x episodes, Lizzie (Elizabeth Moss) did two episodes and Deanna Reed, who’s fantastic, did four episodes. This was my first-time show-running which is its own experience and feat.
There were a lot of elements that were new to me, but at the same time, I’ve worked on the show for five years. So by the time we got to set it felt like I was ready. The show is in my bones. I couldn’t be more fortunate that the first thing I had was something that felt really personal, it just felt like the right thing.
Shining Girls will premiere on AppleTV+ starting Friday, April 29, 2022. Be sure to check out our season review!