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The Self-Aware Meta Commentary in Brian De Palma’s ‘Body Double’ [Sex Crimes]

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Considering how long I’ve been writing this editorial series, it’s wild that this is the first entry tackling Brian De Palma. While there’s a history of contentious reactions to his works (primarily from feminists in the 70s and 80s who accused him of misogyny for his often brutal treatment of female characters), aside from Adrian Lyne, De Palma is easily one of the most significant directors to work on mainstream Erotic Thrillers.

Body Double is a solid entry in his filmography. It is also incredibly representative of his filmmaking interests in that it focuses on doubles, deep focus/split screens, Hitchcockian themes of obsession, sex and voyeurism, and, finally, a mystery murder that is more complicated than it initially appears.

For first time viewers, it might be surprising to learn that star Melanie Griffith does not appear until well past the one hour mark, after her doppelgänger, Gloria Revelle (Deborah Shelton), has been brutally murdered. In this way the film is loosely split in two: before Holly and after.

In the first half, claustrophobic actor Jake Scully (A Nightmare on Elm Street 3: Dream WarriorsCraig Wasson) discovers that his girlfriend is cheating on him and moves into the gold standard of Hollywood bachelor pads, courtesy of acquaintance Sam Bouchard (Gregg Henry). The swanky set-up includes a rotating bed, aquarium, well-stocked bar, and – naturally – a telescope to capitalize on the expansive view.

Before his departure, Sam ensures that Jake takes note of one specific sight: a stunning brunette who performs a daily striptease in front of her wide-open windows. But when Jake notes that Gloria is being observed by an “Indian” man (ah, the problematic 80s), he embarks on a voyeuristic odyssey to protect her.

Body Double is famous for several key sequences. First there is Jake’s attempt to tail Gloria when she leaves her house to go to the mall and buy lingerie. It’s a long, drawn-out affair involving migrant tree-cutters, underground parking attendants, and a store employee who is not nearly concerned enough about the dual peeping toms observing her clientele.

De Palma and cinematographer Stephen H. Burum shoot the mall sequence in long or extreme long shots. Considering how innocuous most of this drama is, as characters spy on each other, the direction and editing (courtesy of Gerald B. Greenberg and Bill Pankow) do a masterful job of elevating the cat and mouse affair. All of the running up and down escalators is the visual double of another stair-dominated sequence later in the film when Jake tracks Gloria to an isolated beach house built into the side of a hill.

The other notable sequence is, of course, Gloria’s murder. As Jake watches through the telescope, the woman is attacked in her apartment. As he sprints through the Hollywood Hills, Gloria is first strangled with her telephone cord, then brutally penetrated (offscreen) by a massive phallic drill that literally cuts through the ceiling to leak blood.

It’s a virtuoso sequence: the murder is incredibly tense despite its somewhat inevitable conclusion, as well as its slasher-esque sexualized violence. And while Gloria’s death is brutal and unrelenting, it confirms Jake’s responsibility in the proceedings: as the police note, had he simply owned up to his fetishistic voyeurism earlier, Gloria might still be alive.

While it’s easy to dismiss the detective because he is so smug, he’s not wrong. Jake then basically doubles down on the wrong idea for the last act of the film, when he takes it upon himself to “solve” the case and track down Gloria’s body double.

Enter porn star Holly Body.

It’s an understatement to say that Griffith is pretty fantastic in the role. She brings a spunky feistiness that energizes the film following Gloria’s murder (be prepared to lament her limited screen time). It doesn’t hurt that her introduction coincides with a stylistically fun sequence as De Palma briefly immerses audiences (without warning) in a porn narrative as Jake goes undercover. The film-within-a-film is a completely different movie (by design), but it is so fun, breezy, and, yes, sexy that one wonders if, like Wes Craven, De Palma could have made a career shooting porn.

The introduction of Holly naturally plays into the mysterious (not quite femme fatale) aura of the character. Naturally she becomes Jake’s new obsession, though Body Double fails to flesh her out or give her agency. In this way, Gloria and Holly represent the dual sides of Jake’s obsession with the Madonna (Gloria)/whore (Holly) complex.

While underdeveloped female characters would normally be lamentable, in Body Double it makes sense. The narrative is all about Jake’s ill-advised desire to “play” the hero – a role that effectively contributes to Gloria’s death and nearly gets Holly killed in the climax. It’s pretty self-aware of DePalma and co-writer Robert J. Avrech to play on the former’s reputation for mistreating female characters by making the whole film about the male lead’s insecurities and inefficiencies.

As we’ve discussed in previous entries, Erotic Thrillers owe a great deal to Film Noir, which – thanks to the Hays Code – tended to end by reinforcing a morally black and white view of the world. Body Double refuses this script: not only does Holly disapprove of being forced into Jake’s crusade and nearly being buried alive, but the pair don’t wind up together. And while the end of the film confirms that Jake has overcome his claustrophobia and returned to work, the final scene plays like it is gently mocking Jake’s B-movie role as a pervy vampire who is still working with body doubles.

In this way, Body Double works both as a great Erotic Thriller, and as self-aware meta commentary by De Palma about the subgenre and his own reputation within it. That’s pretty clever.


Sex Crimes is a column that explores the legacy of erotic thrillers, from issues of marital infidelity to inappropriate underage affairs to sexualized crimes. In this subgenre, sex and violence are inexplicably intertwined as the dangers of intercourse take on a whole new meaning. 

Joe is a TV addict with a background in Film Studies. He co-created TV/Film Fest blog QueerHorrorMovies and writes for Bloody Disgusting, Anatomy of a Scream, That Shelf, The Spool and Grim Magazine. He enjoys graphic novels, dark beer and plays multiple sports (adequately, never exceptionally). While he loves all horror, if given a choice, Joe always opts for slashers and creature features.

Editorials

‘Amityville Karen’ Is a Weak Update on ‘Serial Mom’ [Amityville IP]

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Amityville Karen horror

Twice a month Joe Lipsett will dissect a new Amityville Horror film to explore how the “franchise” has evolved in increasingly ludicrous directions. This is “The Amityville IP.”

A bizarre recurring issue with the Amityville “franchise” is that the films tend to be needlessly complicated. Back in the day, the first sequels moved away from the original film’s religious-themed haunted house storyline in favor of streamlined, easily digestible concepts such as “haunted lamp” or “haunted mirror.”

As the budgets plummeted and indie filmmakers capitalized on the brand’s notoriety, it seems the wrong lessons were learned. Runtimes have ballooned past the 90-minute mark and the narratives are often saggy and unfocused.

Both issues are clearly on display in Amityville Karen (2022), a film that starts off rough, but promising, and ends with a confused whimper.

The promise is embodied by the tinge of self-awareness in Julie Anne Prescott (The Amityville Harvest)’s screenplay, namely the nods to John Waters’ classic 1994 satire, Serial Mom. In that film, Beverly Sutphin (an iconic Kathleen Turner) is a bored, white suburban woman who punished individuals who didn’t adhere to her rigid definition of social norms. What is “Karen” but a contemporary equivalent?

In director/actor Shawn C. Phillips’ film, Karen (Lauren Francesca) is perpetually outraged. In her introductory scenes, she makes derogatory comments about immigrants, calls a female neighbor a whore, and nearly runs over a family blocking her driveway. She’s a broad, albeit familiar persona; in many ways, she’s less of a character than a caricature (the living embodiment of the name/meme).

These early scenes also establish a fairly straightforward plot. Karen is a code enforcement officer with plans to shut down a local winery she has deemed disgusting. They’re preparing for a big wine tasting event, which Karen plans to ruin, but when she steals a bottle of cursed Amityville wine, it activates her murderous rage and goes on a killing spree.

Simple enough, right?

Unfortunately, Amityville Karen spins out of control almost immediately. At nearly every opportunity, Prescott’s screenplay eschews narrative cohesion and simplicity in favour of overly complicated developments and extraneous characters.

Take, for example, the wine tasting event. The film spends an entire day at the winery: first during the day as a band plays, then at a beer tasting (???) that night. Neither of these events are the much touted wine-tasting, however; that is actually a private party happening later at server Troy (James Duval)’s house.

Weirdly though, following Troy’s death, the party’s location is inexplicably moved to Karen’s house for the climax of the film, but the whole event plays like an afterthought and features a litany of characters we have never met before.

This is a recurring issue throughout Amityville Karen, which frequently introduces random characters for a scene or two. Karen is typically absent from these scenes, which makes them feel superfluous and unimportant. When the actress is on screen, the film has an anchor and a narrative drive. The scenes without her, on the other hand, feel bloated and directionless (blame editor Will Collazo Jr., who allows these moments to play out interminably).

Compounding the issue is that the majority of the actors are non-professionals and these scenes play like poorly performed improv. The result is long, dull stretches that features bad actors talking over each other, repeating the same dialogue, and generally doing nothing to advance the narrative or develop the characters.

While Karen is one-note and histrionic throughout the film, at least there’s a game willingness to Francesca’s performance. It feels appropriately campy, though as the film progresses, it becomes less and less clear if Amityville Karen is actually in on the joke.

Like Amityville Cop before it, there are legit moments of self-awareness (the Serial Mom references), but it’s never certain how much of this is intentional. Take, for example, Karen’s glaringly obvious wig: it unconvincingly fails to conceal Francesca’s dark hair in the back, but is that on purpose or is it a technical error?

Ultimately there’s very little to recommend about Amityville Karen. Despite the game performance by its lead and the gentle homages to Serial Mom’s prank call and white shoes after Labor Day jokes, the never-ending improv scenes by non-professional actors, the bloated screenplay, and the jittery direction by Phillips doom the production.

Clocking in at an insufferable 100 minutes, Amityville Karen ranks among the worst of the “franchise,” coming in just above Phillips’ other entry, Amityville Hex.

Amityville Karen

The Amityville IP Awards go to…

  • Favorite Subplot: In the afternoon event, there’s a self-proclaimed “hot boy summer” band consisting of burly, bare-chested men who play instruments that don’t make sound (for real, there’s no audio of their music). There’s also a scheming manager who is skimming money off the top, but that’s not as funny.
  • Least Favorite Subplot: For reasons that don’t make any sense, the winery is also hosting a beer tasting which means there are multiple scenes of bartender Alex (Phillips) hoping to bring in women, mistakenly conflating a pint of beer with a “flight,” and goading never before seen characters to chug. One of them describes the beer as such: “It looks like a vampire menstruating in a cup” (it’s a gold-colored IPA for the record, so…no).
  • Amityville Connection: The rationale for Karen’s killing spree is attributed to Amityville wine, whose crop was planted on cursed land. This is explained by vino groupie Annie (Jennifer Nangle) to band groupie Bianca (Lilith Stabs). It’s a lot of nonsense, but it is kind of fun when Annie claims to “taste the damnation in every sip.”
  • Neverending Story: The film ends with an exhaustive FIVE MINUTE montage of Phillips’ friends posing as reporters in front of terrible green screen discussing the “killer Karen” story. My kingdom for Amityville’s regular reporter Peter Sommers (John R. Walker) to return!
  • Best Line 1: Winery owner Dallas (Derek K. Long), describing Karen: “She’s like a walking constipation with a hemorrhoid”
  • Best Line 2: Karen, when a half-naked, bleeding woman emerges from her closet: “Is this a dream? This dream is offensive! Stop being naked!”
  • Best Line 3: Troy, upset that Karen may cancel the wine tasting at his house: “I sanded that deck for days. You don’t just sand a deck for days and then let someone shit on it!”
  • Worst Death: Karen kills a Pool Boy (Dustin Clingan) after pushing his head under water for literally 1 second, then screeches “This is for putting leaves on my plants!”
  • Least Clear Death(s): The bodies of a phone salesman and a barista are seen in Karen’s closet and bathroom, though how she killed them are completely unclear
  • Best Death: Troy is stabbed in the back of the neck with a bottle opener, which Karen proceeds to crank
  • Wannabe Lynch: After drinking the wine, Karen is confronted in her home by Barnaby (Carl Solomon) who makes her sign a crude, hand drawn blood contract and informs her that her belly is “pregnant from the juices of his grapes.” Phillips films Barnaby like a cross between the unhoused man in Mulholland Drive and the Mystery Man in Lost Highway. It’s interesting, even if the character makes absolutely no sense.
  • Single Image Summary: At one point, a random man emerges from the shower in a towel and excitedly poops himself. This sequence perfectly encapsulates the experience of watching Amityville Karen.
  • Pray for Joe: Many of these folks will be back in Amityville Shark House and Amityville Webcam, so we’re not out of the woods yet…

Next time: let’s hope Christmas comes early with 2022’s Amityville Christmas Vacation. It was the winner of Fangoria’s Best Amityville award, after all!

Amityville Karen movie

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