In which I, Weird Thign Cultural Researcher Matt Finley, add a wholly unnecessary narrative spin to the satisfying, straight-forward conclusion of a film.

Today: Twist Minis

The Texas Chain Saw Massacre – As Leatherface does his frustrational chainsaw-swingin’ twirly dance, the film suddenly freezes, the still image of the cannibalistic transvestite slowly pixelating and breaking down into blackness. Something beeps. Suddenly the blackness seems to lift away as we see a POV shot of two strong hands pulling stylish virtual reality glasses away from the screen. The hands belong to a middle-aged man with kind eyes and an “I’m really tired, but I also just drank some delicious hot cocoa” half smile. The camera cuts from the POV shot and we see that the through-the-glasses point of view was that of a sickly adolescent girl in a hospital bed. The man touches her IV-infused hand and says, “See, honey? That’s adulthood. Now do you understand why it’s almost better that you got sick?” The girl nods. Roll credits.

Alien – As the Alien spirals out into space, smash cut to sweat-drenched alien sitting up in bed. An alien next to him stirs and mumbles, “Is something wrong, honey?” The first alien catches its breath and replies, “I just had a nightmare where I was blown out of a spaceship by a horrific alien.” “You know,” says the other alien, “to an alien, you would look like an alien.” Before the first alien can reply, he begins choking and a human baby bursts out of his chest. Acid blood sizzles in the dark air. Smash cut to sweat-drenched predator sitting up in bed. A predator next to him mumbles, “Is something wrong, honey?” “I just had the funniest f***ing dream!” chuckles the first predator. Roll Credits.

Jurassic Park – As the helicopter gracefully banks toward the sunset, the camera tracks back through the aircraft, moving past the passengers and up into the cockpit, where it zooms in on the pilot, who’s a dilophosaurus. It deploys its neck fan. Roll credits.

The Shining – Cut to Grady and the bartender drinking scotch in the ballroom. “Wow.” Says the bartender, “I think that went really well.” Grady frowns pensively and replies, “Yeah… but I’m still not clear on how it’s supposed to make us rich…” The bartender freaks. “Dammit! I knew I forgot something.” He punches the bar top and shouts, “Well, how soon can we get another family in here with an unhinged dad and a kid who has the shining?” Grady shakes his head. “At least a couple months.” “Well… set it up, I guess.” The bartender says, shaking his head, “and this next time… this next we’re gonna get so rich!” They clink glasses. “So rich!” Roll credits.

In which I add a wholly unnecessary narrative spin to the satisfying, straight-forward conclusion of a film.

Today: “The Thing”

Childs and MacReady eyeball each other as they drink adult beverages in the flaming wreckage of the Antarctic research station. “So…” starts MacReady, “Are you the thing?” Childs look down toward his feet with the ambivalence of a kid glancing down at a balloon with a sad picture on it. “No.” he says, “You?” MacReady just shrugs. “Maaaaaaybe…” Childs looks up and begins backing away. MacReady makes google eyes, lifts his non-drinking hand and wiggles his fingers in an oogity-boogity gesture, then quickly reverts his countenance backs to its default manly pout and says, “Just kidding. I’m not the thing.” Both men stare at each other. Behind them, a piece of lab equipment explodes. Neither man breaks eye contact with the other. Cut to close up on the bearded intensity of MacReady’s soot-streaked mug. Cut to close up on the unapologetic forcefulness of Childs’ rugged aspect. Cut between the two close ups, faster and faster, until the men’s faces seem to morph together into the surly visage of some hard-nosed alcoholic backwoods jazz colonel.

Cut to wide shot of a super-giant space ship screaming down onto the frozen continent. The roaring inferno engulfing the lab looks like a single ignited match when compared to the sheer bed-crapping immensity of the interstellar megacraft descending toward it. There are lots of flashing lights and intense “bleep bloop” noises.

Cut back to Childs and MacReady, who first look up at the ship, then at each other, then at the ship again, then back at each other. As they look at each other the last time, they exclaim, in unison, “Uh-Oh!”

Cut to a reverse shot framing the bottom of the space ship between the panicked men’s men’s heads. A metal gangplank descends from the craft and a weird alien that looks like a human-sized koala in a shock wig and pied jogging suit steps out onto the ice. Childs and MacReady look at it, then at each other, then back at it, then back at each other. “UH-OH!” they shriek. The alien stops a few feet from the men’s men, stomps both its feet and asks, “Why are you on our planet?” MacReady stares back at the alien and intones, “Your planet?! This is our planet!” The alien looks taken aback and bewildered and weird. “No!” he hollers, “You flew through a wormhole, came to our planet, built a base right on top of our thing farm and then started illegally mining our precious thing!”

“Look, we’re really sorry. We thought it was our thing… and if it makes you feel any better, we didn’t even really want it!” says Macready. “Yeah!” offers Childs, “it was killing us even!” The alien crosses his arms over his chest. “Well, okay… but the penalty is still death… except for the bearded one. He’s the thing… our thing.” Childs whips his head over and glares at MacReady. “But you said…” “Hey!” MacReady interjects, “What do you want? I’m the damn thing.”

Cut to close up on Childs’ face. Childs shrugs and remarks, “uh-oh.” Roll Credits.

Since this edition of The Twist, in which Matt Finley adds a wholly unnecessary narrative spin to the satisfying, straight-forward conclusion of a film. features SPOILERS to a movie that is still in theaters we are putting the entire post AFTER THE JUMP. In case this is not clear, AFTER THE JUMP there are SPOILERS about the movie Avatar.

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In which I add a wholly unnecessary narrative spin to the satisfying, straight-forward conclusion of a classic film.

Today: David Cronenberg’s “The Fly”

After killing Brundlefly, Stathis helps Veronica into her car. He scratches at his gross beard and offers to keep her company, but, still sobbing, she declines. As Stathis leaves and Veronica watches his aging car pull away, she immediately stops crying. She turns on the radio. The Bangles’ “Manic Monday” is playing. Cut to a street view. The music blares. Her car peels out and speeds away.

Cut to Veronica entering her apartment. A single lamp glows in the far corner of the living room. As she walks through the door, we hear a loud smoker’s cough. “Ah, Vladimir!” she exclaims. Cut to a man, shrouded in shadow, sitting on Veronica’s couch, holding a bottle of vodka. As he fills two glasses, we can just barely make out his craggy, chiseled features and dark, threatening suit. In one smooth motion, Veronica pulls off her curly, brown Geena Davis hair, revealing that it was a wig. She shakes out her natural thick blonde tresses and accepts a drink from the man. “Do Svidanya,” the man declares as they clink glasses. He downs his liquor in a single gulp, then pulls a manila folder out of his suit coat and throws it down onto the coffee table. Veronica smiles and sips her drink. As the man walks out, he speaks in a Russian accent: “the money for Brundle has been wired to your account.”

After the man leaves, Veronica clicks on another lamp and picks the folder up off the table. Inside is a picture of a nerdy geek with big dweebish glasses and a dorky cowlick. The photo is pinned to a small dossier. Veronica lifts the bottom of the photo. Cut to a close up of the dossier. We see the name “Dr. Norman Valient” and a column below it that says, “Field of Research: Teleportation.” Veronica closes the folder and, sipping vodka, slowly walks over to what appears to be a closet. She opens the door and we immediately hear a low, humming drone. As she flips on a light, we see a small room full of glass terrariums, each of them abuzz with hundreds of flies. Veronica smiles and brings the photo of Dr. Valient up to her lips. We hear the faint smack of a kiss. Veronica speaks: “Pleased to meet you, Doctor Walient.” Cut to close up of Valient’s photo, with a lipstick stain across his poindexter face. Voice over (Veronica): “Pleased to meet you.” Credits roll.

In which I add a wholly unnecessary narrative spin to the satisfying, straight-forward conclusion of a classic film.

Today: “Jaws”

After the shark explodes, the movie cuts to an establishing shot of a giant, glass skyscraper with a big sign on it that says, “Science, Inc.” Cut to a small room filled with video monitors where a balding man in a lab coat and a busty brunette in a pantsuit are rewinding footage of Sheriff Brody and Hooper on the Orca. The woman slams a coffee cup down on the table and says, “Ugh. That hick sheriff interfered!” “What should we do?” asks the man. “We have no choice. Initiate a new test sequence,” responds the woman, who then mutters, “the general’s gonna tear me a new one.” The man nods and leaves the room.

The camera follows the bald man down a hallway lined with extensive piping and an array of glass-fronted incubation tubes, each of which contains a Quint. The Quints in each successive grouping of tubes are younger than those in the previous grouping. Finally, the man reaches a series of tubes filled with babies. He walks through a bright red door labeled, “Top Secret.”

Title card: “One week later.” Cut to a small beach located just off a narrow road. A black jeep suddenly turns off the road and drives onto the secluded beach. The tires grind along the sand before slowly crunching to halt. Two men wearing suits and sunglasses step out onto the tide-kissed shore and help a middle-aged Quint out of the vehicle. One of the men consults his watch and then nods to the other. Suddenly, in the background, a Black Hawk helicopter screams across the sky over the ocean and drops a giant shark into the water. Quint turns his head and watches the beast’s enormous, flailing body splash down into the cold, briny deep. Cut to a close up of Quint’s determined stare as he looks out over the Atlantic. There’s the click of a radio channel opening and a man’s voice says, “Test sequence initiated.” Credits roll.