Viking Night
Bruce Hall
December 7, 2009
BoxOfficeProphets.com
With that in mind, it could be argued that anything that becomes popular to any degree does so only though mass consensus. A group of like minded people - for whatever reason - decides to enjoy something together because it speaks to them on similar levels. That may seem obvious but what is it that separates those who enjoy film as transcendent experience from those who just want to kill a couple of hours any way they can? Is it just because we're all wired a little differently? Because it is sometimes the level of contrast between these two camps that determines not just the initial level of success a film enjoys, but also its longevity. And somewhere within this space exists a type of film with a small but devoted following, obscured from or shunned by the mainstream audience and yet it endures because relatively few people enjoy it so very much.
There are some who would object to me calling such films "obscure", but in my mind that's really what they are. However, if I call something like Logan's Run "obscure" I don't mean to imply that nobody has heard of it. But let's be honest with ourselves, movie fans. Just because you and I and Seth McFarlane have seen it five times simply places us in the movie-going population right where I graduated from high school - the lower fifth percentile. Just ask ten people walking out of the latest Michael Bay film about it and I'll wager eight of them will simply assume you've been drinking and move on.
No, not everyone is attracted to this sort of material but not everyone values the time they devote to entertainment in the same way. For many people it's nothing more than a welcome diversion from a busy day; a time to shut down the mind and be amused – and that's okay. But for others it is an essential experience; a time to expand the mind and become indoctrinated into something greater than you. But I'm not referring to the crowd pleasing summer blockbuster or even to the occasional thriller or drama that commands almost universal appeal. I'm referring to the type of film that the majority of people will dismiss as frivolous, obtuse or even vulgar. But for others, it is as though they've been made privy to another dialect or indoctrinated into an exclusive sub-culture. The film maker has chosen to communicate an idea through words and images that only a select few feel they can come away with.
It is the sublime aggregate of form and function and once you experience it, you find that you have to experience it again and again.
For me, it all began back in college. I attended a school primarily known for its performing arts programs so I ran with a fairly unconventional crowd; some musicians, some writers, while others fancied themselves film makers. The one thing we all had in common is that like most liberal arts students we considered ourselves to be immensely cerebral guys who were all destined to save the world – with art. We were, of course, quite wrong but it was in this environment that my love of film – particularly the unconventional type - began to mature. And so it happened that this particular group of friends liked to get together once a week, watch especially peculiar films and discuss them until the wee hours of the morning - all as an intellectual exercise.
One night we were engaged in that familiar but tedious debate regarding the various merits of David Lynch. We reached a predictable impasse, and with a couple of people in the room being devotees it was soon suggested that we gather every David Lynch film in existence and come to a verdict, no matter how long it took. Now, is that utterly pretentious? It absolutely is, but when you're in college that's the sort of moxie that teaches you lessons, and trust me it was about do so here. But at the time all I knew was that I wasn't about to sit through Eraserhead again without a very good reason and this wasn't it.
So I decided to ask a fateful question which was: "Has anyone here seen A Clockwork Orange?" Not one person in the room had, so I was dispatched to fetch my copy. I was saved all right, but it was at a terrible price.
You see in my desperate zeal to avoid a 24 hour Lynch-a-Thon I opened a Pandora's Box that would stay open for almost two months. For it was on that night that the now infamous Clockwork Orange Party was born. My peers came away as utterly fascinated with that film as I am and doubly determined to understand it. But whether you love it or hate it, there's a lot to see in A Clockwork Orange and if you're ever going to understand it you'll have to view it more than once. Thus it was decreed - we would gather every Thursday and watch this film again until we all felt we understood it. Additionally, one person in our group happened to make wine – a very bad Dorm Room Vintage I might add - and agreed to supply libations for our study.
Now, in case you're wondering how many times a person can watch A Clockwork Orange before coming unhinged I am here to report that the answer is once a week for seven weeks. I happen to be a big fan of Stanley Kubrick but if you've seen Clockwork, I don't have to tell you that it is somewhat unsettling and explicit. Our souls now permanently fractured, we wisely decided to move on but we still liked the idea of getting together weekly to review challenging material. To that end, it happened that another of our group had become rather obsessed with the 1989 satire Erik the Viking and suggested we begin with that film. To the chagrin of our resident winemaker, his concoction was vetoed but a compromise was devised; I was able to find a recipe for something called Glögg (a Scandinavian drink made using wine) on a B.B.S. (what geeks used before the Internet was widely available), literally reaching a palatable compromise.
Viking Night was officially born. Each week, beginning with Erik the Viking, we watched what we considered to be "cult" films and afterward discussed why only unusual people like ourselves seemed to enjoy them. Because of the highly subjective nature of the genre, our basic criteria was simply that the film must have not made much of an immediate financial or popular impact upon its release but had since come to be well regarded among the culturally astute. I suppose it's also worth noting that the selection had to have some subjective merit as a film and could not be of the "so-bad-it's-good" variety. This precluded some genuinely entertaining contenders like Reefer Madness and Plan 9 From Outer Space. Musicals were disallowed, which saved me from sitting through The Rocky Horror Picture Show again, but backfired when I tried to nominate The Blues Brothers.
This may seem amusing but over time what began as a lark became an institution. What was originally an excuse for a half dozen conceited blowhards to listen to themselves talk became a forum for serious and illuminating discussion. There were the obvious choices such as Blade Runner and The Evil Dead. But there were revelations too; we'd all seen Raising Arizona of course but thanks to Viking Night I discovered Blood Simple. Richard never did learn to make good wine but he redeemed himself by introducing some of us to Bagdad Café and others in turn, convinced him to appreciate John Carpenter's Dark Star. And perhaps even more important, we all took the time to think about and discuss why we liked (or disliked) these films. It's easy to judge something on a visceral level but when you understand why you feel the way you do, the experience is that much more revealing.
Viking Night eventually came to an end as friends scattered to the four corners of the earth and lost track of one another. But the memories are fond ones, and the appreciation I developed for cinema is something that I'll always have. My goal now is to examine the same sub genre of film with (hopefully) a more mature eye. What is it about these films that appeals to such a limited number of people, and what – if anything - can mainstream moviegoers with discriminating tastes gain from them? And that's who this column really is for – the 95% of people who wouldn't watch one of these films in a million years. Personally, I still hope to learn new things as well as to entertain - because at the end of the day the purpose of film is to entertain you on some level, whether it's intellectual or visceral. A conversation about movies should, in my mind do the same.
And just for the record - though I have seen it many times since - the original Vikings never, ever watched A Clockwork Orange together again.