Beware the Slenderman

Today I saw Beware the Slenderman, a documentary about the stabbing of Petyon "Bella" Leutner.

Two years ago this week, Morgan Geyser and Anissa Weier had a sleepover at Morgan's house with the victim. They woke up in the morning, had doughnuts and strawberries for breakfast, and asked Morgan's mother if they could go to the park. Without hesitation, she told them they could. Once there, they initiated a fake game of hide-and-seek (though Bella didn't want to play) and brutally stabbed her 19 times, missing a major artery by just a millimeter. They left her for dead, but she crawled her way to an area where a bicyclist discovered her and called for help. When questioned about why they did it, they both blamed a fictional boogie man named Slenderman.

Bella is alive today—physically recovered from her injuries, but continuing to battle the emotional scars left by the event. Morgan and Anissa are being held in separate locations (Morgan in a state hospital; Anissa in a juvenile jail) as they await word on a decision about their case.

This film explores what led each of the accused to commit such a heinous act, with frank, tragic conversations by both sets of parents. In Anissa's case, it's the classic problem of being bullied; not having a lot of friends; feeling an outcast. She wasn't inherently evil; just a 'follower' prone to frightening easily. In Morgan's case, she is mentally ill and the parents saw signs at a young age. Additionally, mental illness runs in their family, so they knew she had a genetic predisposition for it.

The story is both fascinating and disturbing—how seemingly normal kids with loving families can go so horribly wrong in the blink of an eye. Extensive footage is shown of each girl's interrogation with detectives and there's a shocking lack of remorse in both instances. Anissa asks how far she walked out of the woods because she was "never very athletic" and Morgan questions Bella's condition without so much as a tear. Not what you'd expect from two humans who committed a vicious act of brutality just hours earlier.

My main issue with the film is the lack of information and attention for the victim. Sure, we're all interested in understanding why such a crime happened, but I inadvertently found myself sympathizing with the parents and friends of the accused rather than thinking of Bella. Perhaps her family didn't choose to participate in the documentary (that would be perfectly understandable), but there were still ways the filmmakers could have represent her more prominently, even in the absence of interviews.

I also could have done less with the dramatic music in certain sequences. Really, the true story is awful enough to invoke horror.

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Summertime

Today I saw Summertime, starring Izïa Higelin and Cécile de France.

Delphine (Higelin) is a farmer's daughter in rural France who decides to move to Paris for financial and social independence. Once there, she embraces the spirit of the city, joining a feminist group and falling in love with Carole (de France), a straight girl who is transfixed by her new friend.

Everything is blissful until Carole leaves her boyfriend to pursue Delphine just as Delphine has tragedy strike back home. Will family duty get in the way of true love or will the couple find happiness?

This film gets a lot right: the chemistry between the two leads; the authenticity of the era; the sensual nature of erotic attraction—and of course—hate for the unknown.

Unfortunately, the pace of the story is very uneven. It speeds up and slows down almost as the rhythms of their relationship ebb and flow, and that makes the film feel a lot longer than it actually is. Plus, the scenes come dangerously close to being formulaic.

It gets points for its timely women's issues (despite the fact the film is set in the '70s) and superb acting. I just wish it could have condensed it's slower sequences to keep its viewers minds from wandering.

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Purple Rain

On Tuesday I saw Purple Rain, starring Prince and Appolonia Kotero.

This was my second theater viewing of this film. The first took place when I was 9 years old—it was my first "R" rated film and the only film my older sister ever snuck me into. I'm still grateful.

With Prince's passing, the 'celebration' of seeing it has dimmed, but my friend and I still made quite a night of it, complete with cans (yes, cans) of wine, tears and enthusiastic singing. I can also not confirm or deny that I shouted "Fuck you, Tipper Gore!" during "Darling Nikki." But I digress.

In this 1984 classic, Prince plays The Kid, a young man obsessed with making it big in the music industry. His rival, Morris Day (playing himself), and his band The Time give The Kid a lot of grief, but here it's done in such a comical way that the banter is fun to watch.

There's also a girl, of course. She is supernaturally beautiful as well as talented. Her name is Appolonia (Kotero) and she also has her sights set on performing.

There are motorcycle rides and steamy sex scenes and domestic violence and above all else, epic music performances. Sure, the dialogue is cheesy, but the story—based loosely on Prince's real life—is solid.

In fact, it's hard to find fault with anyone as engaging and magical as Prince was. It's even harder to refer to him in past tense.

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