The first/last time I saw this I was obnoxiously stoned with friends at the multiplex. This time I was mildly buzzed alone on my couch after a long, draining night of watching pro wrestling with friends. The result was mostly the same: baffled awe at the gorgeous production design & repelled disgust with Mike Myers's hyperactive, heavily referential schtick
Viewed purely as a Christmas-themed monster movie, this is pretty impressive. The grotesque practical effects, warped sets, and seasick camera tilts are all incredibly imaginative & thoughtfully designed throughout. Too bad it's also an excruciatingly unfunny comedy that indulges Carrey's worst impulses as if they're the funniest thing in the world. Reminds me of the desperate panic at the start of every Adam Sandler movie when you ask "Is he going to do that voice ~the entire time~???"
I tried to…
For all its dirty Detroit soul & doom metal sound cues, colorful Quintron-esque musical contraptions, and horrific flashes of skincrawl gore, this is ultimately about intimacy & mutual addiction. As memorable as its grotesque, psychedelic freak-outs can be, their impact is equaled if not bested by the tender melancholy of lines like 'When was the last memory you have of not being truly alone?' The details of the romance that ends that loneliness construct a body horror nightmare of open sores & swallowed…
There’s deeply uncomfortable sexual & racial context to most of the main character’s crimes, but there’s also an economic desperation in his acts of theft, kidnapping, and breaking & entering that inform his decisions to commit them. In one telling scene, he pauses to watch an episode of the 90s reality show Cops, which similarly repackaged systemic economic hardship as an entertainment commodity, only to be disgusted by the pain on display on the screen. Good Time aims to disgust & discomfort in…