Barry Mahon was shot down over Germany and escaped - and was recaptured - at Stalag Luft III before being freed by Patton's 3rd Army. Once he got back to the U.S., he became the personal pilot and later the manager for Errol Flynn. Then, he learned how to use computers to predict the future box office for films, which does not explain how he made movies like Cuban Rebel Girls, Fanny Hill Meets Dr. Erotico, The Wonderful Land of Oz and Santa's Christmas Elf (Named Calvin).
Have you ever gone to an amusement park and they put on plays for the kids that are too worn out or too young for the rides? Yeah, this is like watching one of those for over an hour, with special effects that live up to neither of those two words. This is what I do with my free time. I sit and watch these movies and laugh like a maniac, then tell an uncaring and oh so cold world why they should be as passionate about total junk as I am.
Depending on how lucky - or unlucky - you were, you would have seen either Thumbelina or this movie within perhaps the most maniacal film ever made, 1972's Santa Claus and the Ice Cream Bunny. Why? What does Jack or Thumbelina have to do with the holidays? More to the point, what does a bunny? Perhaps even more pressing is this question: What is an ice cream bunny?
This was a movie for kids, which leads to so many more questions. Why does it have hip 1970's slang? Why is it set in the present instead of the past, like every other version of this story? Why is Jack's family more like Cinderella's? Why does the giant sing the same song at least three - or a billion, it seems - times?
They used to let kids go to all day matinees of movies exactly like this, which some parents must have thought was some kind of reward. Imagine working hard all week at school and being gifted the magical wonder of this movie, which probably made no sense fifty years ago and even less today.
That said, I've thought about this movie way more than I will any film that will be released in 2020. Barry Mahon is kind of that way, equally fraught with wonder and madness, pain and pleasure. I'm brave enough to attempt to watch everything he ever made, so if you're stupid as well, I hope you'll join me.
Have you ever gone to an amusement park and they put on plays for the kids that are too worn out or too young for the rides? Yeah, this is like watching one of those for over an hour, with special effects that live up to neither of those two words. This is what I do with my free time. I sit and watch these movies and laugh like a maniac, then tell an uncaring and oh so cold world why they should be as passionate about total junk as I am.
Depending on how lucky - or unlucky - you were, you would have seen either Thumbelina or this movie within perhaps the most maniacal film ever made, 1972's Santa Claus and the Ice Cream Bunny. Why? What does Jack or Thumbelina have to do with the holidays? More to the point, what does a bunny? Perhaps even more pressing is this question: What is an ice cream bunny?
This was a movie for kids, which leads to so many more questions. Why does it have hip 1970's slang? Why is it set in the present instead of the past, like every other version of this story? Why is Jack's family more like Cinderella's? Why does the giant sing the same song at least three - or a billion, it seems - times?
They used to let kids go to all day matinees of movies exactly like this, which some parents must have thought was some kind of reward. Imagine working hard all week at school and being gifted the magical wonder of this movie, which probably made no sense fifty years ago and even less today.
That said, I've thought about this movie way more than I will any film that will be released in 2020. Barry Mahon is kind of that way, equally fraught with wonder and madness, pain and pleasure. I'm brave enough to attempt to watch everything he ever made, so if you're stupid as well, I hope you'll join me.