Val and Earl want to get out of Perfection. They haul garbage and put up fences and deliver firewood. They’re hired hands. “Handymen,” Val (Kevin Bacon) corrects Earl (Fred Ward), “We are handymen.” They take turns stopping the other from being too hopeless or thinking too big. But they’re maybe finally sick of it, and maybe they’re sick of each other, too. They’ve talked about leaving so often, and now that they are, a neighbour doesn’t believe them when she stops them to ask for help building a pottery kiln. But they’ve packed everything up from their trailer, even the mailbox sign with both their names on it. Of course, the subterranean monster worms won’t let them, so they’re back to being resigned. “Man, we decided to leave this place just one damn day too late, you know?”
I should be clear: feeling resigned can be dangerous. There are plenty of good reasons to not like your life, plenty of truly undesirable ways to live. And then there are places or people that only seem bad because you think there’s something better. There are situations to fight against and situations to make the most of: it’s important to know the difference between the two.
Something dead-end as Perfection–one street and a population of fourteen–can be seen anew and from that recognition, the generosity and care that were already there come out. Sometimes it can be hard to see it. There are only so many times you can get ripped off by Walter at the general store or made fun of by Melvin, a seemingly unsupervised teen, before you’re sure you deserve better. A good third of the movie takes place before the conflict with the worms is out in the open, a good third is Val and Earl saying they’re sick of their lives and still having to make the most of it. There's a formal tension between character and structure, emphasizing actions against words. If you really want to leave, you can’t keep pulling off the road to check on people, which is what Val and Earl do. If you recognize someone up an electrical tower by the jacket they always wear, maybe you know and like where you are more than you’re letting on. There’s generosity in their resignation, an openness just below their complaints about each other and the rest of the town. Val says the new seismology grad student, Rhonda (Finn Carter), doesn’t live up to his idea of a dream woman, but he acts a bit too flirtatious from the start. They’re as resigned as the California mountains passing for Nevada in the background of each shot, purple and yellow, dramatically patient under the shadows of passing clouds.
"You might be up against giant, hungry worms nicknamed graboids, but you’ll have a good time fighting them off because you might as well find joy in your victories and intimacy in your breaks, sleeping side by side under the stars, safe on a rock."
If I’m spending so long on the start of the movie it’s because it’s really all momentum after that, one thing following another–everyone’s safe inside the general store, then the refrigerator starts humming, the worms attack, they escape to the roof, and so on–but it starts from Val and Earl’s banter, their care in always pulling over, and the mountains. Resignation sets the tone. You might be up against giant, hungry worms nicknamed graboids, but you’ll have a good time fighting them off because you might as well find joy in your victories and intimacy in your breaks, sleeping side by side under the stars, safe on a rock. The movie is a blend of The Birds and Rio Bravo, avoiding the former’s resigned dip into primordial emptiness and taking up the latter’s danger that’s never too dangerous. Like Rio Bravo, a town surrounded is forced to resolve internal issues, for men to learn better ways to take care. Bacon and Ward play Val and Earl soft, and the movie makes it clear they sleep and live together, taking turns cooking for one another. Their friendship is beautiful in the way only unplanned friendships can be. This is masculinity concerned about another man’s daily well-being and domesticity. It’s still covered by the lightest dusting of competition, of dissatisfaction hiding more happiness than they might be able to deal with. Being resigned at the right time can open you to the love that’s there. At the wrong time, it can kill you. Remember, there’s a difference between being sick of a genuine friend and surviving underground, monster worms, between knowing when to stay still and when to make a run for it.
Val and Earl want to get out of Perfection. They haul garbage and put up fences and deliver firewood. They’re hired hands. “Handymen,” Val (Kevin Bacon) corrects Earl (Fred Ward), “We are handymen.” They take turns stopping the other from being too hopeless or thinking too big. But they’re maybe finally sick of it, and maybe they’re sick of each other, too. They’ve talked about leaving so often, and now that they are, a neighbour doesn’t believe them when she stops them to ask for help building a pottery kiln. But they’ve packed everything up from their trailer, even the mailbox sign with both their names on it. Of course, the subterranean monster worms won’t let them, so they’re back to being resigned. “Man, we decided to leave this place just one damn day too late, you know?”
I should be clear: feeling resigned can be dangerous. There are plenty of good reasons to not like your life, plenty of truly undesirable ways to live. And then there are places or people that only seem bad because you think there’s something better. There are situations to fight against and situations to make the most of: it’s important to know the difference between the two.
Something dead-end as Perfection–one street and a population of fourteen–can be seen anew and from that recognition, the generosity and care that were already there come out. Sometimes it can be hard to see it. There are only so many times you can get ripped off by Walter at the general store or made fun of by Melvin, a seemingly unsupervised teen, before you’re sure you deserve better. A good third of the movie takes place before the conflict with the worms is out in the open, a good third is Val and Earl saying they’re sick of their lives and still having to make the most of it. There's a formal tension between character and structure, emphasizing actions against words. If you really want to leave, you can’t keep pulling off the road to check on people, which is what Val and Earl do. If you recognize someone up an electrical tower by the jacket they always wear, maybe you know and like where you are more than you’re letting on. There’s generosity in their resignation, an openness just below their complaints about each other and the rest of the town. Val says the new seismology grad student, Rhonda (Finn Carter), doesn’t live up to his idea of a dream woman, but he acts a bit too flirtatious from the start. They’re as resigned as the California mountains passing for Nevada in the background of each shot, purple and yellow, dramatically patient under the shadows of passing clouds.
"You might be up against giant, hungry worms nicknamed graboids, but you’ll have a good time fighting them off because you might as well find joy in your victories and intimacy in your breaks, sleeping side by side under the stars, safe on a rock."
If I’m spending so long on the start of the movie it’s because it’s really all momentum after that, one thing following another–everyone’s safe inside the general store, then the refrigerator starts humming, the worms attack, they escape to the roof, and so on–but it starts from Val and Earl’s banter, their care in always pulling over, and the mountains. Resignation sets the tone. You might be up against giant, hungry worms nicknamed graboids, but you’ll have a good time fighting them off because you might as well find joy in your victories and intimacy in your breaks, sleeping side by side under the stars, safe on a rock. The movie is a blend of The Birds and Rio Bravo, avoiding the former’s resigned dip into primordial emptiness and taking up the latter’s danger that’s never too dangerous. Like Rio Bravo, a town surrounded is forced to resolve internal issues, for men to learn better ways to take care. Bacon and Ward play Val and Earl soft, and the movie makes it clear they sleep and live together, taking turns cooking for one another. Their friendship is beautiful in the way only unplanned friendships can be. This is masculinity concerned about another man’s daily well-being and domesticity. It’s still covered by the lightest dusting of competition, of dissatisfaction hiding more happiness than they might be able to deal with. Being resigned at the right time can open you to the love that’s there. At the wrong time, it can kill you. Remember, there’s a difference between being sick of a genuine friend and surviving underground, monster worms, between knowing when to stay still and when to make a run for it.