MOONSTRUCK

“Old man, if you give those dogs another piece of my food, I’ll kick you ‘til you’re dead.”
by Meghan Stanton

Spoiler Alert: This post contains spoilers for the movie Moonstruck. Which has been out since 1972.  So, really, I don't apologize.

In the last few years, Hollywood has become obsessed with trying to crank out the perfect ensemble rom-com.  Every new movie has managed to outdo its predecessors in ridiculous failure. (Valentine’s Day, New Year’s Eve, other non-holiday-themed movies. They can’t all be Love Actually.) But some peculiar combination of stubbornness and hubris means that the suntanned execs out on the west coast continue to think it’s a good idea. You know, like, if we make the characters as unlikeable as possible, eventually they’ll go so far in that direction that they become likeable again.

Nope.  Or rather, no thank you.  I will not give you my money.  I will not watch you take it with a smug smile and pocket it.  I also imagine high-pitched evil laughter, but maybe that’s overkill.

What these idiots with their bathtubs full of money seem to have forgotten is that in an ensemble film, everyone is supposed to be good.  That’s the whole fucking point.

A good ensemble drama should grow with the viewer.  It should be the kind of movie you can come back to every few years and say, “I’ve never understood that character until this minute.  I couldn’t have understood her until I got into college.”  Or, “I couldn’t have understood him until I had kids.”  Or, “I could never have understood this child until I lost a parent.”  And so on.

Of course, not everything has to be heavy.  I will acknowledge that a rom-com ensemble film is possible, because it’s been done well at least twice.

The obvious example is everyone’s favorite Christmas movie, the aforementioned Love Actually.  But it had a predecessor.  Moonstruck.

"Wheeeen theeeee moon a-hit's your eye a-like a big a-pizza pie!"

 

Now, I feel I must disclaim.  Moonstruck stars Nicholas Cage, and Cher.

Nicholas Cage has a wooden hand.  At one point he holds it aloft and shouts: I LOST MY HAND.  In a very Nicholas Cage-y way.

"Hello, I am a baker. Here is my wooden hand. No, I will not come to your wedding." Aaaand scene.

 

Cher is pre-plastic surgery, so she’s almost unrecognizably beautiful.  But at one point she does call Nicholas Cage a wolf.  In an un-ironic, trying-to-be-sexy way.

Cheekbones for days.

 

But the thing is, the movie isn’t really concerned with them.  Sure it’s about them.  Cher is engaged to Nicholas Cage’s foolish and hilariously Italian older brother, but she falls for Nick anyway.  And guess what?  They get together.  And the movie knows that you know this from the beginning.  So there’s your first layer, the first-time viewing of Moonstruck:  it’s a story of forbidden love that wraps up nicely for everyone.

But then, you have the actual nit and grit of the story.  The interweaving subplots.  For instance: Cher’s father is having an affair.  His wife knows.  They don’t blow up at each other.  They don’t deliver tragically beautiful monologues and sweep from the room.  They don’t ever even really talk about it.  Because real people don’t do those things either. Neither of them is particularly attractive.  Neither of them is terribly unhappy.  They’ve just grown apart and must find their way back together again.  And they do.  But not lovingly.  Not with beautiful tears and reconciliation.  With a frank, forward exchange at a breakfast table full of people:  “Cosmo, I want you to stop seeing her.”  “Okay.”  The end.  And we have a little faith that if they can forgive each other for this lapse, they’ll be okay.

But the point is, you care about them.  You love each of the characters, you root for them, even as you recognize that they’re wrong, they’re flawed, they’re making a mistake.  A handful of talented actors (Cher and Nick are talented.  I will fight you.) settle into a biting script and bring it to life.  The movie is witty and airtight.  Not a word or look is wasted. (Especially not from Olympia Dukakis, who plays Cher’s mother.  If looks could kill, everyone who has ever watched this movie would be dead.)  And instead of filling the screen with an infinite number of washed-up celebs desperate for a comeback and frantically hopping from plotline to plotline like a deranged child on a pogo stick, Moonstruck trusts itself to be funny and engaging.  It trusts its actors to sell the hell out of a simple script.  But mostly, it trusts the audience.  It trusts the audience to pay attention, and see all the little details, and take all the little moments of humanity and bottle them away for when they’re next needed.  It is a movie I come back to time and again; each time I do, one more piece of the tapestry clarifies for me.  We all need art that can be used as a measuring stick, pieces that show us that we have changed, even in small ways, since our last viewing.

All I'm really trying to say is that Moonstruck is the Our Town of movies. And I'm gonna go watch it again.