Let us take a moment to contemplate the thirteen victims, tragically murdered during a pleasant meal
… well, not too long, and not too tragic either
The victims were, after all, old, lonely men, described by themselves as without anyone in the world to care. Also, they did die drinking what becomes an ever more enticing glass of Mulberry wine (which I now dread to try), I mean, how bad can it really be. Not to mention it’s two rather fetching old ladies, the absolutely most adorable old darlings in cinema (oops, I’m afraid I’ve given it away – only not quite).
It is late, so as usual, I am thinking about arsenic. And lace, although at this stage, it must be very old lace indeed. The movie in question, Arsenic & Old Lace was first released in 1944, and what a cast it had. Cary Grant, the dashing debonair comic who everyone loves (if you don’t know who he is, please, get some culture pronto). Peter Lorre, the epitome of a villain, who established in M every cliché of villainy that would later be exploited by Hollywood. A beautiful blonde. A few bumbling cops. Your insane cousin/Teddy Roosevelt…oh, and three murderers.
If that doesn’t sound like a dream, then you’re doing something wrong. It was specifically as I was dreaming that I had a bit of an epiphany, that this film, this established, old time comedy is more than that, it’s black comedy. Not only that, it is one of the earliest, most ludicrous examples of black comedy I can think of. But wait, there’s more! It’s not only black, but it’s romance, a horror movie, a classic family affair comedy, a thriller, and it pulls through without a single glaring plot hole (as seen through my rainbow-tinted glasses of delight). It’s a thriller, punctuated with some beautiful moments of sheer nonsense that blend seamlessly with what are effectively edge of your seat moments where a man could literally die (on-screen of course). What comedy does that to you? Did I mention Cary Grant?
Okay, I am getting off-topic. Actually, I don’t yet have a topic. Let me give you one, black comedy is the only true comedy. Seem fair? Fine, I’ll let you have slapstick, but any middle ground fails to be comedy.
Hold on, let me take you through this, psychologically and plotwise. Better yet, let me give you Shakespearean comedy. What do all of Shakespeare’s comic plays have in common, it’s tragedy. This is true of modern comedy, there is the point, around ⅔ through the movie, that the characters have a falling out, or something goes drastically wrong. Then, it obviously all comes together and we get that satisfaction at a happy ending that is at the quintessential heart of cinematic comedy. But it’s fake, it’s forced. The whole film builds to an obvious and necessary collapse, just to build it up again. Who doesn’t? Well aside from slapstick, which is just persistent inanity, it’s black comedy.
This genre, Arsenic & Lace in particular, is perhaps the best of the movie genres. By nature, it has to effectively encapsulate almost all of the other established, more mainstream genres. Yet it’s been sadly neglected, left to the realm of talented indie writers who produce spectacular movies that often go unappreciated. The loss of the black comedy has removed some of the most thoughtful, and intellectually stimulating, not to mention moving pieces of cinematic artwork out there from the mainstream film culture. Frankly, it’s a sin.
To give you another example, or two, In Bruges and War on Everyone. Both raise poignant topics. Both feature morally repulsive characters you can’t help but love. Even Arsenic & Old Lace, U rated by the standards of the other two, raises some deep issues. What do you do with all the lonely old men out there. Put them to sleep in peace like some beloved pet or let them live out their days in misery. More than that, how do you deal with an essentially compassionate killer, who may or may not be your aunt?
Even worse, In Bruges explores how to react to the accidental assassination of a child. The main character is a man who quite literally murdered a small boy, and yet, we sympathize with him. What does that say about us? What does it say about the power of a film that can do that? I can’t think of anything more difficult than a comic movie that has, at its core, immense tragedy. It’s the pinnacle of cinema, a perfect blend of genres into the most emotionally powerful combination possible. Tragedy is easy, just introduce loss. Black comedy is a tragedy that is emotionally satisfying to watch but leaves us broken just the same.
To explain what I mean, it’s useful to analyze a scene.
Here’s the link to the scene in question: http://bit.ly/2g302Hz
The scene, a telephone conversation between one of the characters In Bruges and his mob boss, as well as close friend, is a short brisk announcement of a betrayal, and an acceptance of the repercussions. Without waiting for a response, he hangs up. We switch to Harry, the ominous voice we have yet to meet in the film, in a surprisingly light, family environment. Then, he bashes the phone persistently into the receiver and delivers the scathing comeback of ‘You’re a fucking inanimate object’, possibly the most childish insult an adult can deliver. More than that, we have an immensely adult scene up to the point, exploring the collapse of a relationship, the tension at home and the potential injustice felt by the characters. All this maturity is then surpassed by an almost impossibly childish reply, and it’s perfect. It breaks the tension beautifully. That’s the true power of black comedy. It raises existential questions, it gives us insight into deeply emotional and possibly traumatic moments, yet keeps us engaged with a light-hearted tone and persistent comedy that, far from feeling out of place, feels perfectly organic to the scene.
It’s organic comedy, genuine laughter as opposed to a forceful fart joke that no sane human would make if it weren’t a movie. At no point does it suspend disbelief in order to deliver some ridiculous scenario or excessively comic one-liner. It doesn’t pander to us, but allows us to reach that humor naturally, and that’s infinitely more powerful that forced laughter. Not only is organic comedy one of the most difficult things to achieve, but so is effective tragedy, with entire films devoted to one or the other and often failed due to a forced sense of genre objective. Black comedy suffers from none of these defects, and that is perhaps why it is one of the most misappropriated genres as well, as filmmakers dub their films as such due to its representation of quality. So, if you’re fed up with the fake and frankly insultingly dumb comedy of mainstream films, I recommend black comedy.
Andre Hirschler 