The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
the b-side
Thursday, December 8, 2016 — 3B

VALLEY 9000

Nicolas Cage about to ghost ride the whip.

I love Shakespeare adaptation 

films that were clearly conceived 
by producers who never read more 
than the Sparknotes in high school 
— movies set in modern times with 
tangled romantic subplots that just 
barely seem to echo the old stories 
of the Bard.

There’s “O,” (2001), which 

turned Othello into a basketball 
player; “10 Things I Hate About 
You,” (1999), a classic, more-or-
less 
sexism-free 
high-school 

adaptation of “Taming of the 
Shrew”; “My Own Private Idaho,” 
(1991), in which Gus Van Sant sticks 
scenes from “Henry IV” into the 
streets of the Pacific Northwest; 
and 
there’s 
the 
criminally 

underrated “Get Over It” (2001), 
featuring a high school’s musical 
adaptation of “Midsummer Night’s 
Dream” (please watch “Get Over 
It” soon).

These films all take the skeletons 

of time-tested, classic stories and 
give them new personalities, new 
details and updated jokes. They 
work because they play with the 
formula yet still give audiences 
exactly 
what 
they’ve 
always 

wanted — love, betrayal and 
slapstick comedy.

But before any of these movies, 

there was Martha Coolidge’s 1983 
low-budget rom-com “Valley Girl,” 
which is like “Romeo and Juliet” 
only in the sense that two people 
who are different fall in love and 
one’s friends don’t really approve. 
Nobody even dies, man.

More than just one in a long 

list of “R&J” retreads, though, 
“Valley Girl” is one of the greatest 
underdog 
successes 
in 
film 

history. Coolidge was given a 
mere $350,000 to make the film, 
with the stipulation that there be 
multiple scenes with bare breasts, 
and somehow, she turned in a 
commercial smash and work of art 
that’s still worth watching today.

The plot is one of the oldest 

stories ever told. Boy meets 
girl. Boy and girl fall in love. 
Contrivances break boy and girl 
apart. Boy wins back girl. In this 
case, the boy is Randy (Nicolas 
Cage, believe it or not), and the girl 
is Julie (Deborah Foreman, best 
known for roles in some minor, 
cult-ish ’80s flicks). Randy is a 
punk from Hollywood. Julie is an 
OG Valley Girl. Julie’s friends don’t 
like Randy, which means she has to 
choose between him and them.

Coolidge, 
who 
also 
made 

“Real 
Genius,” 
perhaps 
the 

best-ever college-prankster film 
outside of “Animal House,” has a 
special knack for working within 
limitations of both genre and 
budget without succumbing to 
cheap gimmicks or tired clichés. 
Of course, we know the entire 
plot of “Valley Girl” the moment 
Randy and Julie lock eyes for the 
first time, but the world of these 
characters is portrayed in such 
a thrillingly engrossing way that 
plot doesn’t matter.

The entire first act, for instance, 

is reminiscent of a Richard 
Linklater film —even though 
“Valley Girl” was released over 
half a decade before “Slacker” 
hit screens. The opening scene 
with Julie and her friends at the 
mall is entirely in “Valleyspeak,” 
with characters throwing back 
and forth recently popularized 
phrases like “to the max,” “far 
out” and “gag me!” with authentic 
inflection. Immediately, we’re let 
into these girls’ lives in a way that 

feels as natural as a movie can be.

We then move to a party, which 

is where Randy and Julie first talk, 
but special care is taken to ensure 
that we’re at least a small part of 
every 
attendee’s 
conversation, 

even if they’re inessential to the 
main story. And when Randy 
gets thrown out of the party and 
has to sneak back in, he doesn’t 
immediately reunite with Julie. 
Instead, we’re treated to a long 
sequence of Cage looking bored in 
a shower as he listens to the other 
couples flirt and get high. Maybe 
these scenes were all shot just 
because they were cheaper than 
anything with action, but they give 
“Valley Girl” a unique, lived-in, 
almost cinéma vérité style.

Randy proceeds to take Julie on 

a beautiful tour of downtown L.A., 
where their perfect chemistry 
doesn’t fizzle out, even in the face 
of unfamiliar, intimidating (for 
Julie) sights. The shots of their 
driving tour of the city at night 
are stunning, with landmarks like 
the Chinese Theater captured 
alongside burlesque clubs, diners 
and a guy getting pulled over by a 
cop. It’s not often that a rom-com 
has a strong sense of geography 
— most of them take place in 
New York or just any generic 
city — but “Valley Girl” owns 
Los Angeles, making any viewer 
who has never been still feel like 
a local. (Meanwhile, Cage keeps 
hilariously yelling nonsense out 
the car at random people on the 
street: “Rico! Nah, you didn’t do 
that!”)

And when I saw Linklater’s 

“Everybody Wants Some!!” this 
year, the scene that most stood 
out to me was early on, when five 
baseball teammates were simply 
driving and rapping along to the 
The Sugarhill Gang. It’s perfectly 
sweet, and no other director, I 
thought, would linger that long on 
kids just listening to a song.

But Coolidge takes care to show 

her characters just hanging out, and 
that includes Julie and her friends 
lipsyncing 
to 
Bonnie 
Hayes’s 

“Girls Like Me.” It’s a fraction 
of the length of the Linklater 
sequence, but that moment kicks 
off one of the strongest scenes of 
the film — a simple slumber party 
where the girls talk about eating, 
boys and little siblings, with rapid-
fire dialogue that somehow avoids 
being too smart or overwritten 
while also remaining engaging. It’s 
so intimate that I almost feel guilty 
watching it — like I’m violating the 
characters’ privacy.

Foreseeing 
the 
independent 

films of the next decade, Coolidge 
approaches her subjects like a 
sociologist — studying what they 
do while not forcing them into any 
contrived problems. The conflict 
of “Valley Girl” is just the same 
conflict every high school junior 
has: “Who am I?” The director 
understands teenagers in a way 
few artists do. They don’t have 
clear motives; they’re not always 
consistent personalities. They’re 
just trying to learn and do what 
feels right.

Coolidge’s tremendous empathy 

for all of her characters is perhaps 
best exemplified by the roles 
of Julie’s parents. In most any 
other teen movie, parents are 
antagonists, whether they’re well 
meaning or not. They ground the 
kid or force them to do homework 
or forbid them to attend the party, 
and it’s up to the protagonist to 
work around the obstacles they 
lay down. However, in “Valley 
Girl,” Julie’s parents are fully 
developed people — members of 

the Woodstock generation who 
run a health food restaurant and 
try to give their daughter as much 
space and freedom as possible.

Her dad in particular steals his 

scenes, both as a solid advice-giver 
and, more comically, a guy who has 
to retreat to the bathroom to smoke 
a joint when it really hits him 
that his daughter is growing up. 
Together, amid all the hormones 
and confusion of the younger 
characters, Julie’s parents remind 
us that growing up and figuring 
out the world is a process we never 
completely finish.

Also notable in “Valley Girl” 

is a decided lack of cruelty. As 
Roger Ebert noted in his review 
at the time, “This is one of the 
rare Teenager Movies that doesn’t 
try to get laughs by insulting and 
embarrassing teenage girls.” It’s 
clear that Coolidge sees how to 
make the best possible versions 
of what could be painfully awful 
movies, and she challenges herself 
to go above and beyond what’s 
expected of a micro-budgeted 
exploitation movie called “Valley 
Girl.”

The soundtrack is unbelievable, 

filled with classic ’80s songs 
before they got tired out and some 
weird, exciting deep cuts. First 
of all, the rich kids’ party is filled 
with this weird, seemingly Joy 
Division-influenced 
post-punk 

that everyone loves to dance to in 
the dorkiest ways. If that scene 
is true to life, I’m super jealous. 
Beyond that, the prom is played 
by Josie Cotton, who sings the 
minor new-wave hit “Johnny, Are 
You Queer?” I don’t know about 
you, but I didn’t hear anything 
that provocative at my prom (well, 
maybe “Get Low”).

And most memorably, there is a 

literal three-minute falling-in-love 
montage set to Modern English’s 
then-new “I Melt with You,” 
which, coupled with cute moments 
of Randy and Julie around town, is 
earnest and endearing enough to 
improbably give that song new life 
for me.

Of course, there are still flaws in 

this movie. Cage, while charmingly 
goofy and bright-eyed with love, 
plays his “punk” character more 
like The Fonz than anyone who 
would truly seem dangerous, and 
when the plot wheels actually 
do spin they feel unnatural and 
rushed. But even so, I want to put 
“Valley Girl” in the lineage of films 
that brilliantly capture young 
people trying to figure out love, 
identity and what they want for 
the future — from “Boyhood” to 
“Mean Girls” to “Clueless,” all the 
way back to when “The Graduate” 
practically reinvented cinema.

The last shot of the film is, in 

fact, a direct invocation of “The 
Graduate” ’s famous ending, in 
which Hoffman and his bride 
are beaming in the back of the 
bus post-wedding. Like any other 
high school movie, “Valley Girl” 
climaxes with a prom scene, one 
that Randy disrupts in order to get 
Julie back, setting off a hilariously 
overdramatic fistfight and then 
foodfight.

Busting out of the gym, the 

couple hops in a limo and leaves 
for a hotel. They sit in the back 
seat, exhausted and high on 
endorphins. More than likely, 
this is a moment they’ll look 
back 
on 
with 
embarrassed 

nostalgia, after they’ve had 
other relationships and made 
more mistakes. But right now, 
this is the most thrilling night 
of their lives, and we’re right 
there with them.

Overlooked ‘Valley Girl’ 
earnest and endearing

LAUREN THEISEN
Managing Arts Editor

Vintage coming-of-age film a naturalistic look at youth

COURTESY ANDREW BROPHY

When the acid hits.
RPG ‘Knuckle Sandwich’ developer 
talks indie gaming and roleplaying

Andrew Brophy reveals creative process behind his inventive new RPG

Over the past several weeks, 

motivated by hyperactive fandom 
and a selfish desire to learn about 
the inside world of making video 
games, I’ve set forth on a journey 
to discover the best and brightest 
projects active in the independent 
role-playing game scene.

First, I interviewed a team 

from Shanghai, a developer from 
Canada and a local student who 
dreamed of success in game 
development. Then, I spoke to 
a crew of undergrads at DePaul 
University 
whose 
Kickstarter 

garnered 
nearly 
$70,000. 
In 

the process, I was tipped off to 
possibly the most fascinating 
and promising project you’ve 
never heard of — Andy Brophy’s 
“Knuckle Sandwich.”

To put it simply, “Knuckle 

Sandwich” looks fucking rad. I 
would highly encourage you to 
check out the BATTLE SYSTEM 
PREVIEW 
video 
Brophy 

uploaded to YouTube — if your 
taste is anything like mine, you’ll 
be immediately struck by the 
saturated and colorful art style. 
Andy draws the graphics himself, 
but you wouldn’t know it just by 
looking at it. The look is unique: 
retro-inspired but not cloyingly so.

Next, you’ll chuckle at the clever 

fourth-wall-breaking 
dialogue, 

and the absolutely slappin’ battle 
music. Damn, that song. I don’t 
even know how to describe 
it 
— 
post-disco? 
Avant-garde 

digital funk? Regardless, calling 
it foot-tappingly orgasmic is an 
understatement.

Finally, you’ll see the brilliant 

innovations in the game’s combat. 
Some of the attacks go beyond 
the standard “press the button 
at the right time to do extra 
damage” and involve small-scale 
WarioWare-style 
mini-games, 

bouncing out of the screen and into 
a manic arena where the player is 
forced to confront a reflex-based 
challenge. I’ve never seen a game 
do something like this before.

I had to track down Andy’s email 

and hit him up for an interview. 
In an emailed response he was 
gracious and accommodating, but 
still a little cryptic — the perfect 
combination for an artist who 
knows he has something great in 
the works.

First the generic stuff — I’d 

love to hear about you, your 
history as a gamer and your 

history as a developer. 

To be honest, it’s a pretty 

regular origin story! I used to buy 
a bunch of video game magazines 
as a kid and often they’d include 
free games and software with each 
issue … I happened to find this neat 
little program called GameMaker 
when I was 11 and I just went 
from there. A year or so later, I got 
amongst a few maker communities 
online and I guess now I’m here?

You’re based in Australia, 

right? What part of it? Is there an 
indie development scene there?

That’s 
right! 
I’m 
from 

Melbourne, which has probably 
the biggest game development 
scene in the country. Last week, 
we literally had our International 
Games Week, which encompasses 
PAX, Unite and a few other 
conferences. It’s ridiculous how 
far the scene has grown here in the 
last few years — I started getting 
involved about five years ago and 
it was this nice and cosy group 
of people … Now we have these 
major events that attract many big 
international guests. It’s very cool.

Lots of people are comparing 

“Knuckle Sandwich” to the 
MOTHER series. Is that fair? 
Can you tell me about the games 
and people you’ve been inspired 
by as you’ve began developing 
“Knuckle Sandwich?”

It’s pretty fair! I’ve personally 

only played Mother 3, but that 
series ooze so much style that I feel 
they influence many of my other 
inspirations. Outside of games, 
I’m really inspired by American 
Psycho … but that should probably 
be a secret, heh.

Holy 
crap, 
the 
visual 

effects and sprite work in 
“Knuckle Sandwich” are rad. 
I read somewhere that it’s a 
GameMaker game, is that true? 
If so, how are you managing 
to accomplish such a visual 
complexity? 

You’ll find that being “good” at 

GameMaker usually means you 
know your way around its quirks. 
Honestly, it’s mostly black magic 
that makes it work. 

Are you the only one working 

on the game? What about the 
game’s music? It’s insanely 
awesome, by the way. 

I’m working with some very 

cool musicians on the game, 
including Captain Beard, Barch 
and Gyms. Other than that, I’m 
doing all the design, code, writing, 
art and marketing for the game! 
It’s exhausting, but it’s 100% worth 
it. 

What 
are 
some 
of 
the 

things you love about making 
independent games? What are 
some of the challenges?

I totally think the creative 

freedom is pretty sweet. I’m just 
making a game that’s comprised of 
things I like, so it’s really lovely to 
see that resonate with many other 
people. I also love the vibrant 
community … I’ve made so many 
close friends through making 
games, and that’s really my 
favourite take away from doing it.

Like I said before though, it 

is exhausting, especially in my 
situation where I’m doing the 
bulk of the work on the game. 
It’s very easy to feel burned out. 
Fortunately, I’ve gotten myself to 
a good place where I’m good at 
avoiding that!

Some aspects of the game’s 

combat seem to be inspired by 
mini/microgames 
like 
those 

featured in Mario Party and 
WarioWare. Can you tell me 
more about them? Where did 
that idea come from?

I hate puzzles in RPGs! I find 

they waste the player’s time more 
often than not. Minigames are 
more entertaining to me because 
they can be a completely fresh 
experience. With the tone of KS, 
it also means I can do something 
100% unexpected, yet it won’t feel 
out of place. 

It appears that there was 

a coordinated attack on one 
of 
your 
gameplay 
videos 

coming from 4chan. Was that 
disheartening to receive so 
much hate? What keeps you 
going through the process of 
creating the game?

If 4chan don’t like you, you’re 

doing something right … right? 
If the response to the game was 
overwhelmingly 
terrible, 
I’d 

probably be very down about 
working on it. Fortunately, for 
every person who doesn’t like it, 
there’s ten people who super dig it. 
It’s very lovely.

I know a lot of it’s probably 

under wraps, but I’d love to 
know more about the plot of 
“Knuckle 
Sandwich.” 
Also, 

what are some of the emotional 
and moral themes of the game? 
Is there a particular aspect 
of humanity you’re hoping to 
explore? 

I can’t reveal the major plot 

points, but I can say that a huge 
part of the story is about how 
people cope with loss, as well as 
how people’s ambitions can affect 
others. Is that cryptic enough? 

JACOB RICH
Senior Arts Editor

 Now let’s get this out of 
the way: Kylie Lotz, formally 
known under the name Petal, 
is one of the best damn artists 
making music today. Her 
lyrics are sharply 
poetic, her voice is 
achingly soft and her 
melodies bemoan of 
heartache. Over a 
year after releasing 
her incredible debut 
album Shame, Lotz 
has put out a video 
for one of the more melancholy 
songs on the album titled 
“Chandelier Thief,” showcasing 
much of what makes her music 
so enticing.
 It’s a dark and often bare 
video, with shots of Lotz 
singing softly in different 
locations while staring 
longingly at the camera. 
Lotz is found walking around 

in alleys at night, or in almost 
entirely dark rooms except for 
her glowing frame. The song 
slowly builds on itself, with 
nothing except Lotz’s tender 

voice and a gentle 
electric guitar until 
over a minute and 
a half into the 
song, when Lotz 
sings, “I never 
asked you to watch 
me in my sleep.” 
The rest of the 

band kicks in as shots of 
Lotz with expressions 
from bemusement to 
understanding cut across the 
screen — her scenery never 
changes, but her emotions 
are symmetric to the song’s 
atmosphere.
 The video does a fantastic 
job reflecting the emotions of 
becoming distanced from an 

old lover or friend. Usually 
this transition is healthy, 
despite the harsh realization 
that change is rarely easy. 
As fireworks go off behind 
her, Lotz smiles and sings “No 
matter how much distance we 
put between / can’t guarantee 
we wouldn’t touch our feet,” 
granting resolution in the hope 
of making amends that were 
broken in the past.

- DOMINIC POLSINELLI

MUSIC VIDEO REVIEW

A

“Chandelier Thief”

Pedal

RUN FOR COVER

FROM THE VAULT

