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| Images courtesy of Vinegar Syndrome |
In the wake of movies like Gremlins, Little
Monsters and Don’t Tell Mom the Babysitter’s Dead, a slew of edgier,
darker “family” oriented cinematic fare began permeating the 1990s and
particularly kids television sets at home on VHS repeats. Among the most controversial, derided and later
reappraised by critics and filmgoers is Dutch director Ate de Jong’s 1991 English
language feature debut Drop Dead Fred starring Rik Mayall and Phoebe
Cates. Springboarding from the imaginary
friend comedy concept ala Harvey but on the heels of Little Monsters with
the zany comic energy of the hit sitcom Bottom, de Jong and Mayall
unleashed perhaps the strangest, most disturbing and oddly one of the more
realistic studies of childhood trauma that isn’t an overt horror film. While possessing the mania of a Saturday
morning cartoon, its primary concerns couldn’t be more serious.
Minneapolis court reporter Elizabeth Cronin (Phoebe Cates)
is having a terrible day. Separated from
her husband Charles (Tim Matheson), she loses her purse, her car and then her
job for showing up late. Before she
knows it, her domineering and emotionally abusive mother Polly (Marsha Mason) has
packed her bags to move back home with her.
Upon moving back, childhood memories lead her to find a hidden,
taped-shut jack-in-the-box housing her lifelong imaginary friend Fred (Rik
Mayall), a red-haired, green suited freak who causes all manner of havoc and
destruction the moment she summons him back into her life. From there, the film becomes a slapstick
series of increasingly bizarre misadventures Elizabeth’s imaginary friend takes
her down, amplifying the mayhem while also observing her demeanor
changing. For all the problems Fred
keeps causing her, she seems happy.
Exquisitely lensed by David Lynch’s cinematographer Peter
Deming of Mulholland Drive and Twin Peaks: The Return and given a
wacky but mostly family friendly comedic score by Ghostbusters II composer
Randy Edelman, the uncategorizable Paisley Park studios filmed Drop Dead
Fred despite fierce critical drubbing went on to become a success and later
a cult favorite. Not hard to see why as for
all of its zaniness and comic energy it digs its claws into headier issues of
childhood trauma and coping mechanisms.
Though possessing the cartoonish (literally and figuratively) persona of
a Looney Toons animated endeavor or even a dash of Ren & Stimpy, de
Jong finds a way to repeatedly cut back to the crux of the problem with Polly
and some of her scenes waging war on her daughter are quite painful to watch.
That’s not to say it is all dour and drab. The film contains a tour-de-force performance
from Mayall who is in a comedic arena completely of his own making. Even the poster art itself can barely contain
him. Phoebe Cates is no stranger to
playing psychologically damaged characters, judging from her turn in Gremlins
in easily the film’s darkest scene of remembered childhood trauma, and her
she comes across as a child at heart despite being fully grown. Carrie Fisher also gives in a sneaky cameo
perhaps her funniest bit of comedic acting ever in a scene where she “spars”
with the invisible Fred. Still, the one
who nearly steals the show from Mayall is Marsha Mason as Elizabeth’s alienated,
lonely and ultimately strict mother Polly who herself may well be responsible
for Fred’s existence in the first place.
On a tight budget of near $7 million, the strange
hyperactive and abrasively naughty bird of a film opened theatrically to an
astounding $24 million in global sales despite being burned at the stake by the
media upon release. Called ‘one of the
worst films I’ve ever seen’ by Gene Siskel, the Schizotypal personality
disorder surreal comedy nevertheless endured after all these years and now
thanks to the efforts of Vinegar Syndrome who performed a 2K restoration from
the 35mm interpositive audiences today have a chance to decide for themselves
if Drop Dead Fred is secretly an underrated gem. Though it would overshadow Rik Mayall’s other
subsequent, decidedly more unhinged film Guest House Paradiso, Drop
Dead Fred today is the kind of childhood trauma film rarely ever seen
anymore let alone in comedies. The film
can barely contain Mayall’s manic performance and in the end it leaves you
feeling changed somehow. A paean to any
and all who have stories to tell about their imaginary friends.
--Andrew Kotwicki
