Screen Stealers #1: I Pulp You Beth Cooper

An examination of regrets and consequences piled into paths of self-discovery, highlighted in pop-culture-laden dialogue, punctuated with threats of death and violence, with the constant avoiding and outright fleeing of the large shadow cast by a frighteningly overpowered authoritarian type, whilst dealing with the forbidden lust inspired by his unmanageable party-girl significant other... Of course, I'm talking about I Love You Beth Cooper. What other film addresses all those themes as honestly?

Sure, Pulp Fiction deals with these motifs, too, of course, in the fleeting Tarantino way, a fashion that makes you feel like a fly on the wall capturing a moment of immense value purely by accident. For many, it is considered THE film of the nineties, a contemporary classic. Yet a teen comedy like I Love You Beth Cooper, enjoyable and entertaining, is not considered nearly the same calibre. I am sure there are many proponents of both sides, but the well-respected ones are always on the pulpy side.

Pulp Fiction is an interesting choice in title. Delivering a definition at the beginning of the film, pulp fiction is basically throw-away literature, something the film Pulp Fiction most certaintly is not. And it's arguable that I Love You Beth Cooper, relatively unremarkable to critics and a commercial flop for the studios, would fall under the category of pulp fiction. The line connecting these dots is in a beautiful shade of bold.

But in all fairness, I Love You Beth Cooper wasn't a shitty script, hashed together half-heartedly. In fact, it was a novel. A successful novel by former Simpsons and Beavis and Butt-Head television writer Larry Doyle, I Love You Beth Cooper is aimed at a different demographic entirely (that being the teens), but is nonetheless a fascinating snapshot of the emotional rollercoaster at a crossroads (that being high school graduation). The film follows the novel quite faithfully, only changing the ending to have something of a showdown and altering Beth ever-so-slightly to add a smidgeon more chemistry between her and Denis. Succinctly representing the beginning (through protagonist Denis Cooverman) and the end (through Beth Cooper) of life as they know it, I Love You Beth Cooper deals with the crossroads in a meaningful way, fairly representative while being slightly melodramatic for the sake of entertainment. Let's not pretend Tarantino hasn't done that before. In fact, Pulp Fiction deals with the crossroads of making a living in the rat-race realm (in this case, being a thug) and being true to one's own thoughts, feelings, and values (in this case, examining one's religious beliefs and interpreting one's life decisions through the eyes of a higher power), all while having the Hollywood flashiness glazed on thick. With all due respect to both films, I reckon these Polaroids of contemplation between what was and what will be are mundane; everyone faces options and makes difficult choices. The flashiness is what makes it click.

So, why is it a film that has a cow-tipping scene any less renowned than one who admires a Royale with cheese? Why is a watch in one's ass a better representation of perseverance and triumph than the whipping of one's towel at another's ass in a locker room? Let's refer to the AFI scale of awesomeness to measure up this duo.

First, there's cultural impact. While one might argue the best friend character of Rich in I Love You Beth Cooper, with his movie-quoting aficionado personality, is a prime candidate for a figure with cultural impact, that definitely is not the case, since Rich provides a lot of allusions to other films that had cultural impact, rather than leaving much of a mark himself. No one else stands out as "different" or "culture-changing".We clearly have a winner with Pulp Fiction. The dance scene between Mia Wallace and Vincent Vega is burnt into the movie-watching collective mind. The bad-ass persona of Jules, pulling Biblical passages out of his ass before he pumps someone full of lead, has shaped Samuel L. Jackson's filmography. In video games and films, Pulp Fiction references are the fashion. For example, "Zed's Dead" is a trophy/achievement in the video game Fallout: New Vegas. This is the kind of film that Rich would quote in I Love You Beth Cooper. Pulp Fiction had the style and the substance, both of which left a substantial dent in the world. Point goes to the pulpy (yet clearly not-so-pulpy) one.

Next comes critical recognition, which can be summed up in seconds. Accolades galore went to Pulp Fiction, making it a shining silver-screen star. I Love You Beth Cooper got snubbed by pretty much everyone, declared mediocre or less by the press. Need I say more?

Historical significance is the final deciding factor. Pulp Fiction is considered by many a milestone, but one must question why that is. Crossroad films for adults can usually boil down to a number of plotlines, and this particular one is a midlife crisis story in essence. Midlife crisis stories are a dime a dozen, so speaking in those terms, it's nothing new. Add the forbidden love? Nothing new. Add the mobsters? Still, nothing new. The Godfather trilogy already dealt with the Mafia and the people who dwell within that organization. The twist? Nope. Films like to pull that kind of sleight of hand quite often (with directors like Shyamalan trying to make a career out of it), and before Pulp Fiction, it was recognized as a trope.

So, from where does all the milestoniness stem? The chit-chat. No other film has such seriousness conveyed in the big picture, while talking about foot massages, Royales with cheese, pot-smoking in Europe, failed TV pilots, what can be perceived as the reasonable cost of a milkshake, and so on and so forth. I like to call it the "Tarantino touch". Reservoir Dogs did the same thing in the waitress scene, discussing the etiquette of tipping waitresses, while simultaneously dissecting Madonna songs. This film is a milestone because it shone a light on what Tarantino, as an auteur, was going to continue doing for the rest of his film career (at least, thus far) -- the matching of direly serious circumstances with idle albeit semi-topical talk. Pulp Fiction showed a man's future.

I Love You Beth Cooper, when held up to the light, is transparent and a little trashy. It's a mere distraction for the audience, kind of forgettable, but in that is where the beauty lies. In moments where the tough decisions are approaching, many only want to be distracted; they search for other activities, anything to procrastinate, even if whatever they're doing is utterly immemorable -- even completely forgotten by the morning. In that sense, I Love You Beth Cooper actually holds a better story, but without the Tarantino touch, it doesn't shape a thing.

Neither films achieved technical brilliance. There's the usual make-up (corn syrup blood, for example) and the cinematography fits the genre conventions. The most special effects used between the two are the dotted silhoutte lines when Mia tells Vega to not "be a square" and the crazy driving skills (or lack thereof) possessed by Beth Cooper. They are no "special" effects; they were simply visual additions by necessity. I Love You Beth Cooper is not even a blip on the radar, while all the energy on that radar was channelled into Pulp Fiction, leading to its prestige. Both films are important, just for completely different reasons. General film-goers should watch Pulp Fiction. It was a prediction of things to come with the juxtaposition (a la the "Tarantino touch") of the stark and the silly, and that changed how films could be made. Three for three for Fiction.

However, the geek archetype and the cheerleader archetype have generally been shit on by teen films; I Love You Beth Cooper uses them to show the two roads diverging. One's path is rosy, the other is muddy, and the one they inevitably take is determined by how they got there. So true film buffs would appreciate this one for what it is -- imperfect, but irridescent through the flaws.

Pulp Fiction and I Love You Beth Cooper -- so similar, so different, but most importantly, so very much screen stealers.

Pulp Fiction: 90. I Love You Beth Cooper: 70.

Gone in 60 Seconds or Gone With the Wind?

The American Film Institute has clout. It has established lists on the best comedic films, the best thrillers, best animated flicks, best gangster films, best fantasy films, best sci-fi films, best Westerns, best films revolving around sports, best mystery films, best rom-coms, best courtroom dramas, best epic films, best actors and actresses, best on-screen romances, best heroes in film, best antagonists in film, best film scores, best movie songs, best film lines, best inspiring underdog tales in film, best movie musicals, and, of course, the very best films.

These lists are created in conjunction with those working in the film industry, so those in charge of determining the order of importance have, to say the least, a decent grasp on the subject matter.

More importantly, and thusly, upon what my focus will be, AFI has a decent criteria system. They evaluate films based on cultural impact (in other words, either their style or substance or both left a mark on society), critical recognition (accolades in print), and historical significance (a milestone on the timeline that is the motion picture, either through story, technical achievement, or some other innovation that changed the discourse for film as a whole.) They have other metrics, like what qualifies as an actual film versus what qualifies as a short, but in terms of quality, these are the main guidelines.

Now, I don't know about you, but I have seen a number of films that weren't considered "greats"; that label didn't stop me from watching them, and it certaintly didn't stop me from loving them.

That's why this blog isn't going to focus on the conventionally best in film, such as Citizen Kane or Casablanca. (That's not to say that I won't run into Gone With the Wind or The Godfather, but it won't be from attending to any best-of list.) I am going to devote this blog to evaluating by the same AFI-style guidelines all those films we watch for no other reason than because we want to watch, which is as good -- if not, the best -- reason to watch and enjoy films. Actively watching "the best" films might make it easy to get on AFI's good side, but a true movie-lover loves movies. If you love movies, you watch what you want with such enthusiasm because it's the object of your affection, not because some higher power (that's right, we're talking about you, AFI) tells them to do so. We watch films that nobody else has even mentioned just because they catch our eye.

Same goes for true fans of television, a group from which I'm certainly not exempt.

We fall in love with that which the camera captures and refuse to stray too long from what we love, whether anyone likes it or not. We truly love our screen stealers.