The concept of Jumanji is hugely fun – kids get sucked into a video game. The first one was just that, with the additional joy of the actors who played the avatars channeling the kids, and all the gender jesting. Small caveat: the story began with two girls and two boys, but when they got into the game one of the women was substituted for another guy. Three men and one woman – not as fun.
The second Jumanji movie is pretty much not very fun at all. How could they suck all the joy out of this wonderful idea? Let me count the ways.
Characters have to have both strengths and vulnerabilities to be interesting. A character who is only incompetent and miserable is not fun. He’s no fun to identify with, and hard to root for. Spencer, in this iteration of Jumanji, is so incompetent he can’t even line up boxes of toothpaste correctly. He’s on his phone feeling sorry for himself when he is being paid to work (I’d fire him). He owns a 20th century suitcase with no wheels. When the handle breaks, he doesn’t find himself a length of rope, he carries it in his arms. At this point, he is completely useless, incompetent, self-pitying and no fun at all, as he heads home for the holidays.
He arrives to find his grandfather in residence. Here is another character who is even more a whole lot of no fun. Grampa has just had hip replacement surgery. A lift chair has been installed on the staircase, to get him upstairs. Despite that, we find him climbing a ladder to change a light bulb.
Hip replacement surgery, and a lift chair, signal that Grampa is debilitated, fragile, and in pain. Climbing a ladder undermines these signals. Is he hurt or not? If he is not hurt, but playing that he is hurt, that is a character choice. It is a set-up, but nothing ever comes of it. If he is hurt, and yet behaving irresponsibly, that is a character choice too, but again, nothing comes of it. Having been given contradictory signals about what is going on with this important character, it never goes anywhere, and is never resolved. His injury comes and goes, and so becomes an external plot point. Since the signals are mixed, and therefore muddy, we are left not knowing what to think. That is not good story-telling.
The writers installed the liftchair so that Grampa has to share a room with Spencer, further diminishing Spencer’s dignity. In addition, Grampa has a huge breathing apparatus, machines he turns on when he sleeps, during which he makes noises, further imposing on Spencer’s space. In any real world, mom would have made up a bed for Grampa in a room downstairs, rather than putting up $2K to purchase a liftchair that she is only going to need for a couple of months, or diminishing her father’s dignity by exposing his weaknesses to his teen-aged grandson. But to head off that possibility, the writers have also declared that the downstairs heater in this two-story house, during a snowstorm, doesn’t work.
How you can get a downstairs heater not to work, while the upstairs heater does, when the problem is to be solved in the basement (that’s where the furnace repairman goes to solve it), I do not know. What I do know is a $19 space heater will warm up any room in about five minutes. Are there no space heaters in this town?
Grampa keeps up his “I’m so cute” complaining and carrying on. Spencer finds himself depressed and stuck in the same room with this guy at bedtime. So he bails down to the basement, where he has kept the Jumanji game.
Why is he depressed? He is supposed to meet his three friends and fellow-adventurers, one of whom is his unbelievably hot girlfriend, Bethany. But he has been blowing her off all semester, and them too. Why? Because after a year of being together with her in high school, he has gone off to college and suddenly feels unworthy.
This makes no sense whatsoever. A guy with a girlfriend like that would call her as often as she would put up with, and go and see her whenever he possibly could. He’d make every appointment, he’d show up and surprise her, he’d invite her down to NYC to show her off, and enjoy romance in the City. He might even transfer to a local college rather than be away from her. Spencer blowing off his relationship with that girl is not truthful. No guy would ever do that. Instead, he would have a hard time focusing in college because – Bethany!
So, the writers have contrived a situation where Spencer is feeling sorry for himself enough to decide to go to an alternate world where once before, with friends, he managed to escape with his life, but alone, he knows, he might be stuck there forever. So – suicide by video game.
That’s just stupid.
Here’s how they could have done it. In the film, Bethany doesn’t seem to have gone off to college. Instead, she got involved with this organization where she gets to travel and help people – it is not explained, but she says she’s just come home from building houses for people, by way of Costa Rica. What would very likely have happened in this situation is that Bethany would meet an older, capable, more sophisticated man, someone with the same motivations she has for helping people, and the competence (building houses!) to do so, and be attracted to him instead of useless self-pitying Spencer. (Useless and self-pitying are not the qualities one looks for in a partner. Trust me on this.) So she’s the one who’s been blowing Spencer off, canceling meetings, not returning calls. And that selfie she took at the waterfall at the beginning of the film? The other guy is in it too.
Spencer comes home, hurries early to the meeting of the friends, and – Bethany’s brought the new friend. Spencer walks in on the two of them kissing.
Now that would make him depressed enough to enter the game. Especially if part of him thinks his friends will come to the rescue – the old team, back together again! Like it used to be when Bethany was into him!
Of course, that would make this film be a lot more about the girl, instead of the girl being the object of the boy’s desire and/or depression. Are we not ready for that, even now?
Video games are fun! That is pretty much their only purpose. The whole idea of entering a game for real, becoming an avatar – that’s really fun! So, back we go to the world, and who gets to come along? Miserable Grampa, and Miserable Grampa’s sad and long-winded friend, Milo.
Miserable Grampa and Long-Winded Friend haven’t spoken in 15 years. That’s how miserable they are. But Long-winded Friend arrives that morning, exuding love and charm into a storm of Miserable Grampa’s sulking and insulting cracks. (More pots of no fun, there).
You can tell the scene between these two men doesn’t belong in this film. Check this out: Spencer has disappeared. Significant problem! Friends are going looking for him. Significant tension! Milo comes over to talk to Grampa. No tension at all. That is an indication that the story has a glitch.
The fact that there is conflict between Grampa and Milo does not create tension for us. Conflict does not create tension if there are no significant consequences. What are the consequences of this meeting? None. This argument? None. This scene adds nothing to the story. And only because the two of them are at the breakfast table, do they get sucked into the game, when our heroes decide to risk their lives to save Spencer.
So, three people, risking their lives to save Spencer, and two guys sucked along with them by accident. Can you see the drop in fun?
Ever gone on a road trip and found out someone has invited Miserable, Complaining, Never Enjoys Anything, Never Stops Making Nasty Cracks guy? That is when you bail out of the car! Right then! And if you don’t bail out of the car, you isolate the guy, you put him in the ‘way back, you give him a headset, you separate him out so he doesn’t ruin the trip for everyone else. Instead, because this is Spencer’s Special Grampa, everyone kowtows to him, everyone carries him along, like he’s some kind of gross spoiled toddler. A much better plan would be to let him get killed off quickly – so he doesn’t kill you! Like he keeps doing!
Why would these kids – who haven’t found Spencer yet – treat these guys whom they barely know like they are important? Especially when they are interfering with their deadly mission? Why do they keep coddling them like they are superstars or something? They are incompetent. They are unhelpful. And they are not fun. Why don’t they ditch them? That’s what any reasonable person would do when the lives of their friends were on the line. Park them in a bar in the oasis and leave them behind.
But dragging along Miserable Grampa and Longwinded Milo is really, really no fun.
And writers, characterizing someone as being long-winded without having much to say? That is NOT FUN!!! What a miserable character cut. Every time Milo opens his mouth, he is wasting everybody’s time, everyone’s in the game, and everyone’s in the theater. Why is this not fun? Because he is not trying to change. He remains stupidly unaware, and stupidly unconcerned, that his behavior is endangering everyone. Stupid is not fun! Now, if he became away there was a problem, and kept trying to fix it, by talking faster, or writing things down, or using sign language – that would be fun! Doing the same stupid thing over and over again in a way that sabotages the characters’ intentions, is never fun. It’s not fun for the actor to play someone clueless, one-dimensional, and useless. And it’s not fun to watch.
It is not possible that someone who has just had hip-replacement surgery would not be reveling every single moment over the body of the avatar that he is inhabiting. The old guys do enjoy their flexibility and lack of pain right after they arrive, but never again. But after being in your 70s, and needing a new hip, (or being terminally ill, as we find at the end that Milo is), you would never be able to get over all that you can do – run! Fight! Climb! All without pain. You just can’t get tired of that. These old guys forget about it in half a minute. That isn’t truthful.
But the writers can’t have Grampa enjoying his avatar. If he was, he would no longer be making cracks and complaining, and that would go against his character cut of Miserable Grampa. When your character is behaving untruthfully to his situation, then you are doing something wrong. The purpose of fiction is to delight, and, if it’s good enough, to comment on the human condition. You can do neither if you are lying.
Can you think of any more ways to suck the fun out of the wonderful idea of Jumanji?
When Fridge becomes the Hot Chick, there is an exchange about her breasts. “I have breasts!” “Don’t you touch my breasts!” “That’s the first thing I did!”
How is it that no mention is made of the woman character, on becoming a guy, feeling up her own penis and balls? Of course she would! But that’s not in the film. The sexist cracks are only male on female, never female on male. If you are thinking through the world only from the guy’s point of view, then it’s going to be a lot less fun for over half the people in the theater. (Note: women buy more theater tickets than men.)
And speaking of sexist clichès – or the sudden refreshing absence of them! – kudos to the writers (I assume it’s the writers, because the designations are in the cast list) for filling out the evil bad guy’s horde of evil minions with nearly as many women as men, weapons-carrying, competently fighting, actual evil minions, not female hangers-on! Well done! Now that was FUN!!!
Meanwhile, Bethany goes over to Alex “Seaplane” Vreeke’s house, and finds that he has a little girl. The little girl is named Bethany. Now, this is all messed up.
According to the original plot, Alex, when he was rescued from the game in Jumanji I, returned to his own time, 1996, and continued his life, had a wife and kids, and named his oldest daughter Bethany. That would have been 22 years ago, and that oldest daughter would not open the door as a little kid.
But here’s an idea. Rather than the Really Not Fun Miserable Old Men, what if Alex’s kids got sucked into the game? Say it was that little girl. A little girl, playing one of the men, and having the time of her life suddenly knowing things, or able to do thing, having tantrums when crossed. Now THAT would have been FUN!!! And the actors, playing a little girl playing their avatar, would have had fun too.
What if Spencer’s Mom had been sucked into the game? Spencer’s Mom has no name. She’s “Spencer’s Mom” in the credits. (Miserable Grampa does have a name – he’s Eddie. Not Grampa, which is what he is mostly called.) Why doesn’t she have a name? Probably for the same reason that she has nothing to do in the script but support her two men-folk. The writers didn’t bother to activate her.
But imagine if Mom got sucked into the game?
To make the best possible story, who should be sucked into the game? The people who will be changed by it the most.
Fridge and Martha have knowledge of the game. They know what they’re doing, and they get on with it. Their competence and leadership are enjoyable to watch. What if the person who got sucked into the game was stuck in a circumscribed life, had never tried anything outside of her own cognisance before, and suddenly finds herself in a whole new world, with wonderful powers? She would try everything! She would tear off in all different directions just to see what was there. She would stretch the envelope of what is possible in the game. She would be enjoying herself, and we would enjoy her experience vicariously.
What is the worse choice? Someone who doesn’t enjoy it, and doesn’t care. Someone who keeps making stupid mistakes, who doesn’t learn, makes no effort to learn, and still gets special treatment from everyone else. Someone who is not changed by the experience. The choice to suck Grampa and Milo into the game makes no sense. It sacrificed most of the possible fun from this story.
It’s hard to imagine the circumstances that would cause the writers to feel that the best possible sequel to Jumanji would be to add Danny DeVito into the mix. It’s hard to believe Danny DeVito would sell tickets to a film like Jumanji. Writing Whoopee Goldberg into the story would have been a much better idea. Any character type you wrote for her would have fun, and massively increase the choices for character behavior in each of the scenes. She would have surprised and delighted us at every turn, and the avatar actors would have had a delightful time playing her! Whoopee Goldberg would have added everything from new viewer ticket sales to delightful scenes. Danny DeVito does not belong in the Jumanji world, which is why the story written for him does not fit. As a matter of fact, instead of sucking Grampa and Milo into the game, Whoopee Goldberg could have been the postman, just about to retire, who arrives at the house right at that moment and gets sucked in. The Grampa-Milo arc, their reconciliation, could be just the same – because the Jumanji adventure doesn’t affect that arc at all. Which should make it absolutely clear that it doesn’t belong in this film. The Whoopee Goldberg addition, on the other hand, would have been awesome. As Bravestone? Oh my god. But even as any of the other characters, she would have had the time of her life. And so would we. Joy is contagious. And so is misery. Miserable characters make miserable stories.
An even better choice? Steven Hawkings, for example, would be a marvelous character to bring into the world. (Yes, I know he is, unfortunately, passed away. But:) this is a guy who would have reveled in his avatar every single moment, whichever one it was, and in the world, which would give him a whole new form of physics to explore. He would have delighted, and been a delight, every moment, and so added huge amounts of FUN to the story. So, the disabled geek next door, or even the furnace repairman, who could be anyone, or anything. A kleptomaniac, an agoraphobic, a physical coward, a classically trained actor or dancer, a rising rap star, who would change the world and be changed by it.
What you do not choose for your new character is someone who doesn’t want to be there, who isn’t enjoying it, and who is not changed by the experience.
The change that Grampa and Milo make, the resolution they experience as a result of these hair-raising, extraordinary, magnificent adventures, is that they apologize to each other. There is nothing in their experience in Jumanji that brought them to that point. That point was inevitable from the moment Danny Glover knocked on the door. It is a separate story arc from the momentum of the story of Jumanji. That is why it has no tension. And that is why it doesn’t belong there.
The new avatars, the horse and the thief, are terrific. But saddling that Akwafina with playing a miserable old man is just a waste. Yes, she did a great job, playing a hunched, insulting, complaining old guy. Watching her play depressed incompetent Spencer wasn’t fun either. I’d love to have seen a character take that avatar for a spin who was exploring every aspect of her limitations with curiosity, and delight. That would have given Akwafina so much more scope. And it would have been fun.
The problem the writers have given Grampa and Milo is so lame it’s almost nauseating. They used to own a restaurant in town together. Milo, played by Danny Glover, cooked a hundred plates a day in this restaurant for 35 years. He wanted to retire, so he forced Grampa to sell the restaurant, and he went and had fifteen enjoyable years traveling around with his wife. Grampa hasn’t spoken to him in all that time, in 15 years, because he is so angry that he lost the restaurant, his purpose in life, and because he lost his partner. (Tell this story to three different people: “There are these two guys who . . . What kind of reactions would you get? Boredom and indifference. That is a clue!)
And another thing. While the black guy was in the kitchen cooking a hundred plates a day, what was Miserable Grampa doing? Managing? If he was managing, but the black guy was cooking, how is that a partnership? And if they own the restaurant, couldn’t they hire a cook? If Milo wanted to retire, couldn’t they train a new cook and Grampa can keep on running the restaurant? It just doesn’t make sense.
So Crabby Grampa managed this one business for 35 years, and after that had nothing in his life. Nothing. He didn’t take his money and start a new business. He didn’t make new friends – he doesn’t have any other friends. And where is his wife? He didn’t make a single crack about her, so she isn’t in the story. Did Spencer’s Mom crawl out from under a cabbage leaf?
Miserable Grampa has no relationship with his only daughter. He utterly takes her for granted, and seems to have no affection for her whatsoever. The scenes where she appears in the room are written as though he is god’s gift to that household. For her and Spencer to behave as though every stupid thing he does is cute, and all his complaining and carrying on is cute, makes them into Stepford people. And it’s not fun.
In the end, Milo apologizes for making Grampa sell the restaurant. And Grampa apologizes to Milo. For what? For resenting Milo’s having a life that doesn’t include him? He doesn’t actually apologize for anything. He just says he’s sorry. And then they’re friends again. And the consequences for the story? The consequences for Jumanji? None. And that is why this story arc does not belong in this film. Grampa does not belong in this film.
When the story begins, it is about Spencer. Spencer’s misery, Spencer’s discomfort, Spencer’s depression. But the last move is given to Grampa. So that is who this story is really about, as if we didn’t know. Grampa goes back to the restaurant that he sold fifteen years ago. Nora, the new owner, is at her wit’s end. It’s so hard to keep a good manager, what is she to do? Oh? says Grampa. You need a new manager?
The very thought that this business woman who has kept this restaurant afloat for 15 years would consider for one hot second hiring the guy who owned it for 35 years, the very idea that she would think that he could do it better than she does, or that she thinks she would be the boss in anything but name after hiring this guy, or ever get her own way about anything again, is absolutely ridiculous. Grampa is the last man on earth that she would hire.
Characterizing her as a spacey nincompoop doesn’t work. You can’t have a spacey nincompoop and have her also have bought the place fifteen years ago and run it ever since – restaurants go out of business all the time. Hers didn’t. Spacey nincompoop she is not.
And then, the unkindest cut of all – Grampa comes on to her. He gives her Bravestone’s stormy look. Yup. Just the guy you want to have working for you; the old guy who’s coming on to you. That’s why they have to characterize Nora as a nincompoop. Otherwise she would have a real-world, real woman’s reaction, and that would not make the story end well for Grampa.
So, the end of Grampa’s arc is that after fifteen years he gets his restaurant back. And he’s starting a romance with Nora. But this is a huge pay-off to a set-up that wasn’t there. This is Spencer’s story. This is about Jumanji, and the effect that Jumanji has on the lives of the people who are sucked into it. Except for Grampa and Milo.
Jumanji II is a wonderful idea, that has been hijacked for Cute Crusty Miserable Grampa and his boring friend. Like stealing toys from children, it stinks, especially when the thieves never liked the toys after all. They handle them and dump them. They never have any fun – and neither do we.
The mise en scene is spectacular. I could almost forgive the whole film for the dirigible the end. That was an absolutely marvelous dirigible! The villain’s fortress, the extreme desert, the hanging bridges, were fantastic. The mix of ancient and modern, strange trucks and cars, and camels, was wonderful.
In thinking back over the film, each scene was well-shaped, well-timed, with interesting events, moved the plot from one place to another (except the Grampa-Milo scenes), in often surprising ways. If only the characters had not been talking, the scenes would have been much better. The verbiage often undermined the strength of the scenes. Which is odd – great verbiage is usually a lot easier to write than great scenework. But since the characters are being twisted to serve the head-trips of the writers, it makes sense that it would turn out that way.
I get a Princess Bride vibe from Miserable Grampa convalescing with his grandson in the next bed, and both of them in pajamas. Imagine Princess Bride told with Miserable Grampa sick in bed, and the grandson coming over to show him how to play a video game, while he makes snarky comments, and complains, and patronizes him. That would not be fun.
In the last scene, both in their pj’s, Spencer is slowly and laboriously showing Grampa how to fight in a video game. Grampa is totally not into the game. He hardly has any attention for it at all. He is gloating over Spencer. He is loving on Spencer so hard. But in Princess Bride, the beauty of the relationship between Grampa and the kid is in the subtext. The look on Peter Falkner’s face at the end, when he says, “As you wish,” is the moment when we get to discover it, and it leaves room for joy. Having it pressed upon us in the Jumanji II scene is like having our heads held down in a bucket. I LOVE THIS GUY! DID YOU GET THAT YET? HOW BOUT NOW? HOW BOUT NOW??? Though again, why Spencer is so lovable is not in this film.
Now imagine if, in this ending scene in Jumanji, Miserable Grampa was suddenly not miserable. Instead, he is getting a kick out of playing the game, coming out of himself and enjoying learning something new, even something simple, from the person he loves most in the world. Imagine if they were laughing together, and he kicks Spencer’s ass, or Spencer kicks his. Then there would be room for joy. But that heavy-handed projecting of his unlimited love makes that moment, once again, like much too much of Jumanji II, all about Grampa. And how miserable is that.