By James Bowman on 12.15.06 @ 12:02AM
More Christmas pandering to the kids.
There has never been a time in Hollywood when movies have not
been made without more or less careful calculation of their
potential market, but the shamelessness with which the industry now
allows marketing to dictate content surely surpasses anything we
have seen before. The phenomenon is particularly evident in
children's movies like Unaccompanied Minors, directed by
Paul Feig from a screenplay by Jacob Meszaros and Mya Stark. It
comes to us in the Christmas season, with all its emphasis on
family, blatantly pitched at the children of divorce and otherwise
distant parents. Well, you might ask, what's wrong with that?
Nothing, I suppose, if the movie had made any effort to treat the
subject of family breakup and neglectful parents with any degree of
realism. Of course, that might have interfered with the comedy
(such as it is), a problem that doesn't arise with a movie like
this one which is a straightforward exercise in wish
fulfillment.
Five children between the ages of 11 and 15 are followed from
their homes in different parts of the U.S. on cross-country
journeys to visit absentee parents at Christmas. They all have
connections through an unnamed Mid-western city served by Hoover
International Airport, where their arrival coincides with "the
blizzard of the century." Trapped in the airport with all flights
out canceled, they are ordered by the comically nasty airport boss,
Mr. Porter (Lewis Black) -- whose own vacation has been ruined by
the blizzard -- to be taken with seemingly hundreds of other
unaccompanied minors to a central location cut off from the rest of
the airport where they are allowed to run wild.
"It's like Lord of the Flies here," says 15-year-old
Spencer Davenport (Dyllan Christopher). This opinion puts him at
odds with the film-makers, who appear to regard the scenes of
violent chaos and assault on Zach (Wilmer Valderrama), the adult
supposed to be in charge, as nothing but good clean fun. Spencer,
who is an impossibly attentive big brother to his bratty little
sister Katherine (Dominique Saldana), proceeds to organize an
escape in which he is joined by rich and precociously sexy Grace
Conrad (Gina Mantegna), tomboyish 11-year-old Donna Malone (Quinn
Shephard), and a strange, out-sized 12 year-old called Timothy
"Beef" Wellington (Brett Kelly) who still plays with action figures
and lives in a fantasy world.
Such a person would seem to be the ideal audience for this
movie, but that doesn't stop it from making fun of him -- just as
Bad Santa did the same actor -- largely on account of his
size, his paleness, and his lumpish blond appearance. Spencer's
most reluctant recruit is the diminutive would-be intellectual,
comedian, and all-round entertainer, Charlie (Tyler James
Williams), who worries: "Harvard is never going to accept me with a
criminal record, and I'm not going to community college."
Meanwhile, in Pennsylvania, Spencer's dad (Rob Corddry) hears of
the plight of his children and sets out in his aged Volvo, adapted
to run on vegetable oil, to rescue them. Dad's uncoolness as an
environmentalist geek (a mildly interesting development to me)
becomes a subordinate theme.
The sort of adventures enjoyed by the children, on the run from
Mr. Porter's Keystone Kop-like security staff while at the same
time trying to get back to little Katherine, now herself the victim
of a diminutive tyrant, and find a way to celebrate their own
Christmas, may well be imagined, though they are unlikely to
entertain anyone much over the age of the heroes. Always,
naturally, we are meant to cheer as these clever and attractive
children routinely outwit the stupid and oafish adults who are
intent on limiting their freedom and spoiling their fun. At one
point, Mr. Porter asks, "Who trained you kids, the Navy Seals?"
"Divorce kids are more resourceful," Spencer answers sagely.
Oddly enough, through all this, Beef is off on his own acquiring
a Christmas tree and seemingly proving the truth of the maxim
taught him by a cruel (by contemporary standards) stepfather that
"Men are made, not born." Somehow this seems out of keeping with
the message of the rest of the film that kids and not men --
whether born or made -- rule. But then kids are unlikely to notice
or care about what might seem to a more adult sensibility to be
contradictions and incoherencies. In this sense, the movie depends
for its audience on the same absence of adult standards that it
celebrates. Let's hear it, then, for divorced and absent parents
who are as neglectful of their children's entertainment as they are
of their children's everything else.
When all the kids are back in his custody, the dastardly Porter
announces that he is to punish them for their antics by ensuring
that their flights out are delayed until after Christmas. But they
seem insufficiently chastened. Why, he asks, when they are being
kept from their families do they seem almost happy? "Because,"
answers Spencer, "you didn't keep us from our family, not our
new family" -- by which, of course, he means the much more
congenial fellowship of his fellow kids. Thus are they vouchsafed
the sudden happy hope of a reinvented family consisting of cool
kids of their own age -- and of the opposite sex, since Spencer
pairs off Grace and Charlie with Donna. Oh, maybe the odd adult can
be permitted to join in if he's cool with their doing their own
thing -- as even Spencer's dad, having traded in his uncool, Mazola
burning Volvo for a Hummer turns out to be.
"You drove a Hummer all the way from Pennsylvania in a blizzard
just to get us? I take back everything I ever said about you," says
Spencer, who has indeed previously demonstrated his contempt for
his paternal parent on more than one occasion. This idea of the
voluntary family is a venerable Hollywood fantasy. Usually,
however, it is one for older adolescents and young adults -- youths
who are most likely to have arrived at a seemingly inevitable point
of dissatisfaction with the families that nature has given them.
Unaccompanied Minors shows us that that point, like so
many other growing-up benchmarks, is arriving earlier and earlier
in the lives of the children for whom American movies are now
made.
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