Parents

This was not exactly what I was expecting. 1989's PARENTS appears to be a jet black comedy about a little boy who begins to have growing suspicions about those "leftovers" his parents serve every night.  Jet black it is, comedy, er, not so sure.  The movie's poster and reviews (even the opening credits) suggest a more gag laden exercise, one filled with cheeky humor and easy potshots at the 1950s (though its, um, skewer of that decade may be the best this side of David Lynch).  Instead, director Bob Balaban and writer Christopher Hawthorne have created a truly uncomfortable, palpably creepy motion picture about childhood fear that succeeds beautifully in its dread.

I like that PARENTS strikes its tone.  It feels like bona fide horror.  The comedic moments are used sparingly every now and again.  Rarely overt, mostly in a knowing, satiric fashion.  But fleeting.  Balaban (better known as a character actor) decided to go for a total nightmare, one so vividly seen through the eyes of Michael (Bryan Madorsky).  It's mostly from his perspective, all the fears of a looming adolescence.  What is that laughter coming from the living room?  Why is the school counselor showing me this picture? What is it supposed to mean? PARENTS never lets the audience in on the joke, if one was ever intended.  We are locked in fright with Michael every step of the way.

The parents of the title are played by Randy Quaid and Mary Beth Hurt, and they really get these roles, and the filmmakers' intentions.  Quaid never does easy caricature, never once does he break his veneer. He's a scary SOB, yet always Ward Cleaverish.  You keep expecting him to do some goofy variation on his Uncle Eddie character from NATIONAL LAMPOON'S VACATION.   Hurt occasionally plays into satire but never devolves to a wink. 

Are the Lamales really serving human flesh? Killing people? Is that what this film is really about? The horror centerpiece does provide a few grisly moments, but essentially this is a howl of the eternally frightened child.  The millions who've experienced the pains of being different, feeling unloved by everyone, and the mysteries of sexuality.  This compact movie nonetheless gets a lot into its brief running time, though it does also shortchange an intriguing character - Sheila (Juno Mills-Cockell), a girl Michael befriends who may be the only one who understands him.  Several scenes build their relationship, and then she just sort a disappears from the movie.

Well known pop songs from the period are nicely used; I can't recall the Big Bopper's "Chantilly Lace" ever sounding so sinister.