Part Two of Lost & Forgotten Film Treasures of the 1980s.
The 'Burbs (1989)
Directed by
Joe Dante
Written by
Dana Olsen
Running time: 101 minutes
“Our neighbors are murdering people. They're chopping them up. They're burying them in their backyard.”
The ‘Burbs is a delightfully dark comedy about the normality of life in middle-America suburbia. I was introduced to this film, more than likely, during one of its many broadcasts on cable television after its theatrical release. Ever since then, it’s become a staple in my movie collection and is pulled out quite often when I feel the need for a good laugh.
Ray Peterson (
Tom Hanks) is your average everyday guy who has become a little concerned with his new neighbors, the Klopeks. Their house and yard are in shambles; they dig in their backyard in the middle of the night, and keep their neighbors up with the weird noises emanating from their basement. As Ray so simply states his observation one night, “I've never seen anybody drive their garbage down to the street and bang the hell out of it with a stick. I-I've never seen that.”
Now without the support from some of his other neighbors, Ray Peterson probably would have just let sleeping dogs lie. Unfortunately, living in the neighborhood are Art (
Rick Ducommun), Ray’s gluttonous slacker next door neighbor, who is way too nosey and has too much time on his hands, and Rumsfield (
Bruce Dern), an ex-military nut living across the street, who is just as concerned about the Klopeks as he is about a neighborhood dog crapping on his lawn. The more suspicious the events that take place on their cul-de-sac, the more these three are intent on snooping and spying on the Klopeks.
As expected, things take a turn for the worse. Walter, the elderly gentleman with the best kept lawn on the block and the owner of the lawn-pooping bandit, Queenie, has suddenly gone missing. The events following Walter’s disappearance will keep you laughing, as well as guessing, till the very end.
The ‘Burbs has always been one of my favorite Tom Hanks films, comedic or not. Hanks portrays the reigning everyman, who is pushed to his limits by his neighbors (especially Art) and his wife, Carol, portrayed by the adorable
Carrie Fisher (of
Star Wars fame). Rather than being simply a meddling prick like Art, Ray is truly concerned about the disappearance of his neighbor, Walter. His sincerity makes his performance so amusing yet so honest.
What I love is how relatable this film is to my life, to anyone who has lived in a neighborhood. We all know the weirdo who never mows his lawn, the family you never ever see coming or going, the angry “Get the hell off my lawn” old man. My cousin and I could have easily been misperceived by our neighbors with the last home I owned. They rarely, if ever, spoke to us and probably thought we were the “gay couple” living next door with the overgrown lawn. They were wrong, but I can imagine what conversations they had at the dinner table because we were probably having similar ones about them. It’s these kinds of normal neighborhood misinterpretations that bring this movie home, the main cause for the hilarious ride Joe Dante takes us on.
Joe Dante, whose other previous films include the horror-comedy
Gremlins, and the quirky sci-fi comedy,
InnerSpace (which I will cover soon), expertly executes the fine line between paranoia and paranormal. While the script is expertly riddled with bitingly hilarious dialogue, I believe the genius of the plot is that it never leaves their street, Mayfield Place. Where some directors might shy away from this possible hindrance, Dante takes advantage of it by not allowing his characters to leave the neighborhood.
Jerry Goldsmith provides the brilliantly overlooked score, where he takes advantage of every musical cue he can by parodying his other works (listen for remnants of
Patton whenever Rumsfield dominates a scene) along with other great composers like
Ennio Marricone and his score from
Once Upon A Time In The West (when Ray and Art dare each other to go “say hi” to the Klopeks near the beginning of the picture). Goldsmith purposefully uses over the top musical clichés, so much so it almost becomes a character unto itself. I adore the heavy handed pipe organ reminiscent of old silent films when showing the Klopek's decrepit house or the sacharine sweet happy-perfect-neighborhood-all-is-well music he uses in contrast to show the purity and innocence of the cul-de-sac.
More than anything, I like this movie so much because Ray, Art and Rumsfield are like three neighborhood children, whose antics are not far from how I played with my friends when I was a kid. They’re supposed to be adults, but their behaviors are much more consistent with that of eleven-year-old boys who can’t disconnect from playing make-believe long enough to sit down and have dinner with their family. So much so, that Ray acts like a child who mentally shutdowns after a horrible nightmare, while Art and Rumsfield fail to persuade Carol to let him “come out and play.” The scene plays out like a mother and her grounded child rather than that of a husband and wife, and boy do I remember the numerous times when I was kept at bay, unable to go out and conquer the world.
The ‘Burbs is a great picture that honestly makes fun of the normalcy that comes with settling down and making a life for yourself in the suburbs. It also makes you reassess your living conditions and that anyone, if not everyone, can be suspect. After watching this film, you’ll probably never look at your neighbors the same way again.
Today's flea market is brought to you by the letter "A." (Photo by Lisa)
(Photo by The Dude)
(Photo by The Dude)
(Photo by The Dude)
(Photo by Lisa)
(Photo by The Dude)
(Photo by Lisa)
(Photo by The Dude)
(Photo by Lisa)
(Photo by Lisa)
(Photo by The Dude)
