John Truby's Two Cents

John Truby, director, screenwriter and creator of the 22 step method of storytelling in screenplays (an alternative to the more commonly used three-act "Paradigm" developed by Syd Fields), in his attempts to define various genres used in film, offered this description of black comedy:

"When black comedy is used as a basis for a story's plotline, it involves a society in an unhealthy state and a main character wanting something which, for whatever reason, is not a thing that will be beneficial to himself or society. The audience should usually be able to see this for themselves, and often a supporting character within the story also sees the insanity of the situation. The main character rarely ever learns a lesson or undergoes any significant change from the ordeal, but sometimes a relatively sane course of action is offered to them."*

We can apply this definition to several of the films discussed here on this blog. It is clear that John Waters' crime-and-deviant-sex-obsessed Baltimore, or Death to Smoochy's entertainment industry bent on the destruction of the pure and wholesome illustrate a society "in an unhealthy state." William H. Macy plays a character in Fargo who desires the murder of his wife, a "thing that will [not] be beneficial to himself or society." The British officer in Dr. Strangelove represents a "supporting character within the story [who] also sees the insanity of the situation," as he is the only character actively voicing the impropriety of the launch of the nuclear attack. Divine in Pink Flamingoes ends the story as filthy and crime-driven as she began, serving as "the main character [who] rarely ever learns a lesson or undergoes any significant change from the ordeal."

Though many of the films discussed on this blog seem off-beat and totally unlike the mass-produced movies churned out by the hundreds from Hollywood, it is clear that the black comedy operates on a specific formula.

* Black Comedy, Wikipedia, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Black_Comedy

Dr. Strangelove, or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb

Before Divine was running around in sequined dresses eating feces and murdering children, there was Dr. Strangelove, or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb (1964). This film, believed by many to be the quintessential black comedy, emphasizes one of the genre's primary characteristics that hasn't seen much discussion on this blog: satire. Often, black comedy will, in dealing with its taboo subject matter, assume a satiric tone, transforming it from a study in shock value to a commentary on human behavior. 

Dr. Strangelove satirizes the Cold War by portraying the ultimate catastrophe for humanity, unrestricted, worldwide nuclear warfare ultimately leading to the end of the world, as a silly misadventure resulting from the ridiculous paranoia of a single military officer. The fear of fluoridated water and its ability to bring about the end of the American lifestyle stands as equally ridiculous as the irrational fear of communism during the age of McCarthyism. 

Patriotism, national security, government and the entire system of social construction in the Western world is satirized in this film. Dr. Strangelove shows us through satire how dangerously close we are to allowing our own stupidity to bring an end to all human life and then makes us laugh about it.

Polyester

Divine doesn't always play lower class criminals. In Polyester (1981), also written and directed by John Waters, Divine tones down his/her flashy, sequined attire in favor of cardigan sweaters and conservative skirts befitting a good Christian wife in the suburbs of Baltimore, MD. His/Her character, Francine believes that she is everything the Dawn Davenports of the world are not until she realizes the truth about her seemingly wholesome family.

Waters experiments with production value in this movie, showing marked improvement in picture and sound quality, editing and acting from Female Trouble, but introducing other unheard-of-in-Hollywood elements in order to emphasize the absurd. Filmed in Smell-O-Vision, audiences in the theatre were given scratch and sniff cards. The queue to sniff the card was marked by an actor on the screen, usually Divine, frantically sniffing around the set. Here, smell is linked to moral decay in a metaphor so outrageous that only John Waters could pull it off.

Polyester plays on several characteristics of the black comedy genre. It wouldn't be a John Waters movie if it didn't hyperbolize the horrific for the sake of humor, but it also acts on a (slightly) more subtle level. The dominating presence of a 'normal', or non-horrific, believable character where such a character has been missing in other Waters films brings the freakish and the perverse aspects of the film closer to our own reality.

Female Trouble

In 1974, John Waters followed up the outrageous Pink Flamingoes with a second romp through filthdom. Divine, Mink Stole and Edith Massey return to tell the story of Dawn Davenport, high school girl turned criminal and wannabe celebrity. Characteristic of its genre, Female Trouble generates its humor from the taboo, the disgusting and the miserable - zooming in on the most horrible aspects of human life and turning up the contrast.

This time around, Waters makes jokes out of child abuse, rape, alcoholism, murder and bad fashion sense. When set against the backdrop of the almost non-existent production value and ambiguously amateurish acting, this unbelievably horrible tale can set perfectly normal, sane audiences into hysterical laughter. (It has also been known to induce nausea.)

Ultimately, Female Trouble is a pseudo-cautionary tale, critical of its own moralizing that warns, "Nice girls don't wear cha-cha heals."

Dear John (Waters)

While the black comedy can be a subtle and pessimistic affair, one of my favorite filmmakers uses the genre to create bawdy, uproarious fores into the worlds of filth and kitsch. John Waters' films usually deal with topics of crime, mayhem and general debauchery, but present these topics through outlandish and hilarious farce.

Described by NetFlix as "ultra-black comedy", Waters' Pink Flamingos (1972) features the acting... uh... talents of Mink Stole, the perplexing Edith Massey and the ever fabulous Divine. Divine's character is the self-proclaimed "Filthiest Person Alive" and is challenged for this title by a dubious, sexually deviant couple lusting for fame through filth. The movie races through the seedy underbelly of Baltimore as Divine and the Marbles battle to commit the filthiest act possible, culminating in an unforgettable scene in which Divine literally eats feces.

True to its genre, however disgusting this film may be, it is undeniably hilarious.

Death to Smoochy

Danny DeVito is perhaps the king of offbeat comedy, so his 2002 comedy Death to Smoochy, starring Edward Norton and Robin Williams, naturally takes its place in the annals of humor history. One thing that dark humor can do for an audience in addition to making light of the miserable is to do the reverse: take something light and make it miserable. DeVito's film does the latter by chronicling the struggle of Edward Norton's character, a kind-hearted, non-violent and beloved children's show host in a world of vice bent on his destruction. Edward Norton's "Smoochy" character brings up childhood memories of such lovable icons as Barney the Dinosaur and Sesame Street's Big Bird. 

With pure DeVito flair, this film creates an overblown reality with saturated colors and characters. The humor here is generated when misfortune befalls the innocent, well-meaning Smoochy. Here we can learn that perhaps the greatest goal of Black Comedy is to create humor from misery.

Living In Oblivion

Not all black comedies need to concern death. Living in Oblivion, a 1995 film starring Steve Busciemi and Catherine Keener proves that dark humor can even come from the disenfranchisement and monotony of everyday life. Through a series of nightmares, Living in Oblivion shows the tedium of low-budget filmmaking as the film crew attempts to shoot a single scene in spite of countless small but annoying problems. The film characterizes life in the entertainment industry as existence in a kind of oblivion in which we roll our boulder up the hill each day, then roll it back down only to repeat the process endlessly.

The humor in this piece comes from the audience's ability to identify with the annoyances that eventually drive everyone crazy. After a long day, we've all had to listen to that watch alarm that no one seems to be able to locate. We laugh, however the situation is actually quite bleak, for it depicts the real misery of living in the limbo of mediocrity in which most of us exist.