Spotlight

Spotlight Date: 26-April-09
Spoiler Rating: Low

The Mask (1994)

What do you get when you turn Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde into a musical comedy starring Jim Carrey and a scene-stealing terrier? You get the snappy comic-book adaptation The Mask. This flick casts Carrey as a loser named Stanley Ipkiss who finds an ancient wooden mask housing the spirit of a mischievous god. When he puts it on, his no-holds-barred, pleasure-seeking side leaves its repressed corner and takes over, aided by magical powers that enable him to do anything. Underdog salvation through id liberation is an infallible theme for hooking an audience, and here it sparkles with nostalgia and Carrey's affable insanity.

The nostalgia derives from 1930ish costumes, settings, and song-and-dance numbers. In a way it sends Stanley back to the grittier era of gangsters, but not far enough back to where a man could rage without repercussions. His daily battles are with the rat race and the tyranny of capitalism, so his story represents wish fulfillment for the modern man. The being he becomes when he dons the mask is like the natty cousin of Beetlejuice, a reckless, horny genie whose uncorking makes one understand the meaning of "be careful what you wish for." Yet that is the dichotomous thrill of tales such as this: seeing the protagonist assert himself with wild abandon and still retain the humility that smoothes the way to happiness in a civilized society.

Perhaps I like the movie's most heroic, resourceful, and straitforward character because Stanley/The Mask is a contradiction and everyone else a stereotype. I mean no insult when I say that the terrier who plays the underdog's dog Milo gives the best supporting performance, topping Cameron Diaz in her debut as the bombshell of Stanley's dreams. Diaz is suitably vacuous and comely as a torch singer whose relationship with a thug (Peter Greene) teaches her the value of a decent schmoe. But Milo is irresistible even to a critic who considers pet tricks a sign of puny intelligence and punier creativity in moviemaking. He helps Stanley first with loneliness, then with the scrapes in which the mask embroils him. I suppose every domesticated dog has a wolf inside wanting to howl, but Milo excels as the only character who seems perfectly comfortable in his skin.

Copyright © 2009 The Jujube (M. I. Kim). All rights reserved.