|This comes right before the naked pillow fight.|
The Craft gets so much stuff right that it's just boggling. I've never seen a movie about teenagers where the teenagers acted so much like teenagers. The conversations, the moods, the preoccupations are pitch-perfect: when Bonnie sees the scars running the length of Sarah's wrists and murmurs, awed, "you even did it the right way" it's heartbreaking, and hilarious, and oh, so very high school. Present here are the awkward conversations with nosy bus drivers, the sleepovers that flip-flopped from giggles to tears, the bizarre, poignant affectations: Nancy, keeps a hangman's noose in her locker. I had a friend who did that. Maybe it was life imitating art, maybe it was art imitating life, but it rang true for me.
Unfortunately, The Craft's third act descends into creepy-crawly chaos, undermining the very thing that makes the rest of the movie so effective: would these girls, whose friendship was strong enough to catch the attention of the gods, whose power and purity turned them into avenging angels wreaking havoc in the hallways, turn on each other over something as boring as a boy? What a disappointing end to a film that starts out reveling in the twisted feminine other-ness of its antiheroines. Some producer somewhere is to blame. Still, the sour conclusion didn't stop me from watching, and re-watching, and re-watching this movie in my own salad days. The Craft is required viewing for black sheep of any age.
|"Is this a DAGGER I see before me?"|
Fairuza Balk in Almost Famous, a movie which gave everyone, everywhere, a heartwarming feeling.
There's a scene in The Craft where Nancy snuggles with a dead manatee and Fairuza Balk even manages to pull that off, almost.
Or maybe it was a narwhal. Whatever. Fairuza Balk for president!