Viking Night: Bedazzled
By Bruce Hall
January 19, 2016
BoxOfficeProphets.com
An annoying puzzle game that ran away with your girlfriend back in 2003
An obnoxious fashion trend that involved covering otherwise unremarkable garments with costume jewelry; made Etsy a household name before the site was taken over by latent psychotics and amateur An underwhelming remake starring Brendan Fraser and Elizabeth Hurley that came and went like an ice cream headache
An underrated film classic starring comedy icons Dudley Moore and Peter Cook
Which one do you think I’m going to write about? Here’s a hint: If you just said “Who’s Dudley Moore?” or if you think Peter Cook played Darth Obstreperous in the last Star Wars film, then this article is for you. In fact, if you’re any of the above, this article is probably for you. If you think splattering an old jean jacket with fake rhinestones is some kind of an improvement, then you probably need some comedy in your life. And if you already appreciate Dudley Moore, maybe you can help me explain why Brendan Fraser - adorable pug that he is - is not a suitable replacement.
Moore and Cook had worked together in television and were not new to snarky, mildly intellectual satire. They were still kind of new to film, though, so most of the reason Bedazzled is so much fun is because it was made by two still super talented, still pretty young guys who were still on their game. Cook wrote the screenplay, Moore wrote the score, and even made actual hamburgers on screen. No effort was spared to convey realism, insofar as that’s possible when one of your main characters is the Devil.
What I’m saying is that I can’t summarily condemn the remake of Bedazzled, because the original itself is a remake of the legend of Faust - which I’m sure you remember from the scary old German lady who babysat you when you were seven. In this version, Stanley Moon (Moore) is contemplating suicide, because his life is going less than well. By that I mean that he’s a short order cook, which is the kind of job people can tell you had years after you quit, because you will smell like bacon fat until the day you die. But that’s actually the good part.
The bad part is that his dream woman Margaret (Eleanor Bron) works the tables and is only dimly aware of his existence. Stanley mopes and pouts and pines away, but can’t find it within himself to approach her. Clearly a man of faith, he sits in church and clumsily begs God for the strength to make a move on Margaret. Unfortunately, Stanley just can’t overcome the fact that he’s a huge dweeb. Eventually he decides that suicide is the only way out (which is a shame because between you and me, Margaret really ain’t all that), and tries to hang himself. And fails hilariously. But to his credit, he’s at least able to see the irony in that.
As luck would have it, his prayers were answered, just not by the intended recipient. A guy named Spigott (Cook) literally walks in the front door right in time to brutally mock Stanley for his incompetence. Spigott claims to be the Devil and offers Stanley seven wishes in return for his immortal soul. Stanley requests a demonstration, only to be tricked into buying himself some ice cream, which is promptly taken away from him. You’d think that would be a red flag, but it turns out our protagonist isn’t really all that smart. And since dumb people don’t do self-improvement OR tend to be intimidated by the presence of the Prince of Darkness, Stanley agrees to the deal.
Shockingly, each time Stanley makes a wish, things don’t quite go as planned. A request to be more “articulate” goes a long way toward addressing the stupidity issue, but ultimately results in Margaret mistaking him for an incredibly well read rapist. There are seven wishes, one for each Deadly Sin, and they each have appropriate corporeal personifications (Wrath is my favorite, with his pugilistic sneer and “Make War Not Love” T-shirt). The consequences of each wish play out in extended scenes that more or less serve as long form sketches. This requires Moore and Cook to portray a variety of characters and personalities, and for the most part it’s fascinating to watch.
Moore is the stronger actor of the two, transitioning Stanley between timid, sniveling twit, pretentious jerkwad, wealthy playboy, confused nun and back again. It’s a pretty solid performance, and even the detached, indifferent way Cook plays the Devil can’t be entirely dismissed, because it’s the same approach that made Bill Murray a kazillionaire. And while adapting the legend of Faust is not any more groundbreaking than taking a stab (hahaha) at Romeo and Juliet or Beowulf, in this case the artists take full advantage of the forum to poke fun at the cultural, political and social touchstones of the day.
Captains of industry often sacrifice their most precious relationships for the promise of profit. Vain, pretentious hipster musicians are rarely loved by others the way they love themselves. Avarice is a means without an end. And the Prime Minister of Great Britain may well be in league with Satan. It’s all wink-nudge kind of stuff, but it’s fun, and the dialog is rife with sexual innuendo, including fun with the name “Randy” and how to slip kinky sex references right past the censors and into the script. Bedazzled is funny without going over the top, cerebral without being preachy, and somehow a classic without quite reaching any level of real innovation.
And the next time someone mentions the word “Bedazzled” in conversation (don’t lie, you know it happens to you constantly), you now have an answer suitable to convince people that you’re a super intelligent and articulate movie buff who’s totally better than everyone else. And the Prince of Darkness will be proud.