Imitation. Is it the sincerest form of flattery, or is it just an excuse for being lazy and unoriginal?
Off the top of my head, I can’t think of an American horror movie from the past few years that wasn’t a sequel to an adaptation of a Japanese horror movie or (worse still) a video game. That’s one reason the tiny British flick “Shaun of the Dead” was such a standout when it had its woefully brief American theater run in 2004. It was everything American horror movies weren’t: sharp, original, well-acted.
Ah, plus it was extremely funny. “Shaun” was a rollicking good rom-zom-com (that’s romantic zombie comedy, for the uninitiated) that tore through horror movie stereotypes like the undead cracking open a fresh skull in search of brrrrrains. But at the same time, “Shaun” demonstrated the cast and crew’s unabashed love for the genre, embracing all the gotta-have moments that zombie fans have come to expect.
Sad to say, audiences here weren’t quite ready for it. Americans, it seems, prefer their parody slathered on with a trowel. Think “Scary Movie” or “Date Movie” or “Not Another Teen Movie.” See the pattern? Those films aren’t so much parody as they are open ridicule – a loosely connected collection of vignettes bound together by a handful of common characters. It’s comedy porn.
Not so the British comic nation, may God save them all. Unconcerned about American audiences, the Brits go right on making their brilliant, heartfelt and zany films, occasionally lobbing one over the pond to remind us that they are older, wiser and funnier than we are.
Which brings me to “Hot Fuzz.” It’s British parody again, by members of the same troupe that made “Shaun.” This time, director Edgar Wright and stars Simon Pegg and Nick Frost turn their keen wit on action movies – particularly tough-cop films like the “Lethal Weapon” and “Bad Boys” franchises. But a straightforward action flick would be asking too much; there has to be a twist.
Pegg plays Nicholas Angel, Metro London’s toughest cop. He’s so effective, he boasts an arrest record 400 percent higher than that of his fellow officers. Tired of the overzealous Angel upstaging the rest of the department, his supervisors arrange his transfer to the bucolic village of Sandford, a virtually crime-free little hamlet where the townsfolk revel in their status as “village of the year” for their well-kept gardens and manicured lawns.
There, Angel is partnered with Danny Butterman (Frost), the son of the town’s constable and an action movie addict who hopes Angel will bring some big-city excitement to his humdrum life. Angel attempts to maintain his hard-core quest for justice, but in a matter of days, he’s pretty well flipped every stone and quashed every misdemeanor.
Until there’s a mysterious, gruesome death in the village.
Angel sniffs murder, but the townsfolk downplay it. There hasn’t been a murder in Sandford in 20 years, after all. Then, in short order, two more people are killed. Angel is certain there’s foul play involved, but even with the evidence at hand, the townies simply cluck over the apparent bad luck; murder is simply beyond their comprehension. Angel is smarter than the lot of them, and manages to track down the killer – but in doing so he exposes a dark vein of corruption that weaves its way through the entire town.
Well, of course the plot doesn’t sound funny; that’s another difference here. There’s actually a tale to be told, not simply a montage of silliness. But to unveil the town’s secret would be a disservice. Suffice to say it’s quintessentially British. If you’ve watched “Wallace and Gromit: The Curse of the Were-Rabbit” or any episodes of the Britcom “Keeping Up Appearances,” you’ll feel right at home. And you’ll appreciate the whole movie all the more if you’ve got a collection of action movie DVDs the size of Butterman’s walk-in film library; the homages and tips-of-the-hat to the genre are constant. But they’re also subtle – no drubbing over the head here – you either catch the reference or you don’t. (Not to worry, another will be along in a moment.)
“Hot Fuzz” is silly without being stupid, parodic without pandering. It’s a good example of how the right material in proper hands can shine. (For a painful comparison, consider Hollywood’s most recent similar attempt, the big-screen “Reno: 911!: Miami” movie that crawled through theaters in February and March.) Steel yourself for a lot of swearing, a lot of bullets and a rather startling use for a ketchup packet, but go see it; “Hot Fuzz” opens at the Tivoli April 20.
Stereotyping is one of the key ingredients in parody, so it’s only fitting to suggest you get your grub on with some traditional cop cuisine. That’s right, doughnuts. And my without-peer recommendation goes to World’s Fair Donuts, tucked into one corner of the bizarre intersection of about 10 different streets – but you only need to remember the intersection of Shaw and Vandeventer, in South City. The shop’s open at a bleary 4 a.m. and cranks out pastry for the masses till 6:30 p.m.
While World’s Fair’s buttermilk doughnuts are the best in town, my real love is for its fresh fried pies, stuffed with fruit, chocolate or coconut cream. These little pies are service above and beyond the call of duty for a mere doughnut shop. Get ’em while they’re hot.
This article appears in Apr 1-30, 2007.