shrek on shrek

MediaJune 12, 2019

Shrek might just be Dreamworks’ greatest cinematic achievement

shrek on shrek

Last week an Auckland cinema hosted a six-hour Shrek marathon. In a show of classic Kiwi stoicism, Josie Adams found that what didn’t kill her made her stronger.

At the end of the first Shrek film, our hero turns to his loyal friend and noble steed, Donkey. “Donkey, can you ever forgive me?” From the back of a cinema on Saturday afternoon, a voice yelled back at him: “You have to forgive yourself first, babe!”

Fifteen minutes later I was in the foyer of Auckland’s Academy cinema, sipping on a Shrexy Elixir and wondering if I, too, could forgive myself. I was in the middle of Academy’s Shrek trilogy marathon and had already cried twice.

With each minute I basked in the glow of the Dreamworks ogre I felt my body chemistry change a little more. Once a symbol of punishment — animators who bungled their work on Prince of Egypt were sent to the basement to work on the movie, a punishment known at the time as being “Shrekked”  — Shrek and Donkey are now considered Mike Myers’ and Eddie Murphy’s greatest roles.

As soon as the first bars of Smashmouth’s ‘All Star’ began I sobbed and threw fistfuls of popcorn in the air. God, I love Shrek. Shrek is the tale of an angry ogre who wants just wants people to stay out of his swamp, but instead finds true love and friendship. Looking around the audience, made up of solo attendees in leather jackets, it was relatable content.

There’s a scene near the beginning that’s much more disturbing as an adult; the one where all the fairytale creatures are being sold into slavery. Baby Bear’s cage is “too small,” Geppetto sells his puppet son for ten shillings, and we meet Donkey, a talking donkey who will never receive a name throughout this entire series. I’d dragged along a friend, who gasped several times during this scene. Unlike me, she hadn’t watched Shrek every year single year since 2001, and had totally forgotten about the slave/refugee subplot.

You know what happens next: Shrek and Donkey team up to rescue Princess Fiona and get the fairytale refugees out of the swamp. Our villain, Lord Farquaad (pronounced “fuckwad”) is notable for being an early test of Mark Zuckerberg’s robot form. Shrek was released in 2001, three years before Zuckerberg launched his nerd-friendly version of MySpace, yet the Facebook logo is everywhere in his realm. Farquaad also hacks a magic mirror to find him a girlfriend, which is exactly why Zuckerberg invented Facebook. 

When it ended with Shrek and Fiona getting married to Smashmouth’s cover of ‘I’m A Believer’, I wept. It was Shrektacular. The crowd clapped, whooped, and ordered more rounds of elixir. “Shrek is love,” a man at the front yelled. We responded to the call in unison: “Shrek is life!” 

My friend was at the top of Academy’s stairs, sending out a series of messages: “Sorry,” she texted her nearest and dearest, “I can’t deal with this right now. I have to watch Shrek 2.” Damn right, she did.

Shrek 2 is the best movie in the franchise, and I was amped to the goddamn gills for it. It’s about Shrek meeting Fiona’s parents — Julie Andrews and a racist frog — and getting their approval. Shrek and Donkey must team up with Puss in Boots (Antonio Banderas) and thwart the evil fairy godmother and her hot son, Prince Charming, who plan on committing bigamy. Shrek’s animators create cute enough fairytale creatures, but the humans of Far Far Away are rendered right on the border of the uncanny valley and VR porn. Prince Charming makes me flustered and nauseated at the same time.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jjLhSlLWMXE

I went to the bathroom during one of Shrek’s many emotional scenes, because I don’t care much about him. Every single character in this universe is compelling, but Jennifer Saunders’ fairy godmother is the only part of it worth pissing yourself for. I came back into the dark, crowded room to see a newly-human Shrek staring me in the face. He looked like Billy from Stranger Things and as I stood in the aisle, stunned by his jawline, a guy yelled “daddy!”

Disoriented by Daddy Shrek, I sat down in the wrong row, next to an older woman there on her own. She stared at me until I left and found my assigned seat. She wasn’t there to make friends. She was there to gaze into the dual abysses of a CGI ogre’s eyes.

I, too, was lost in Shrekstasy. The movie ended and I sat in my seat replaying Puss in Boots’ ‘Livin’ la Vida Loca’ in my head until Shrek the Third began. Those who’d popped out for a Shrexy Elixir were coming back with less conventional goblets; a half-pint glass, a small round cup, a martini glass. The recipe is: raspberry and lemon kombucha, a shot of vodka, and a splash of blue curacao.

Prince Charming is back as the alpha villain in Shrek the Third, where he teams up with pirates, witches, and ents to avenge his mother’s death and put on an incredible play. Shrek doesn’t know about this until the second half of the film, because he spends the first half pulling Justin Timberlake out of high school and camping with a pantsless wizard.

Shrek the Third is an emotional journey. Fiona is pregnant, and Shrek has nightmares about fatherhood – his own father tried to eat him, so he doesn’t have a great role model. He finds a practice son in young Arthur (Justin Timberlake) who is, in turn, missing a father figure.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cTmHxJRZoss

Carrying on the parental theme, we learn that Donkey has no idea how babies are made, despite the existence of his six children. In an aside, Rapunzel calls Prince Charming “daddy,” which is significant because this film was released in 2007, before being daddy was popular.

Shrek the Third packs in enough side characters and character development for two movies, which is why I was happy to finish the marathon there instead of heading home and getting out Shrek the Halls.

The credits roll to ‘Thank You’ by Big Brovaz, a song that also featured heavily in Scooby Doo 2: Monsters Unleashed three years earlier. One point to the Scooby Gang, but three points to me: I had passed each Shrek test (Shrekst) and grown only stronger, more faithful. I turned to my friend, who didn’t feel the same. “Can you ever forgive me?”

Keep going!
DUTCH TEENAGER NOA POTHOVEN (PHOTO: INSTAGRAM)
DUTCH TEENAGER NOA POTHOVEN (PHOTO: INSTAGRAM)

MediaJune 9, 2019

The best of The Spinoff this week

DUTCH TEENAGER NOA POTHOVEN (PHOTO: INSTAGRAM)
DUTCH TEENAGER NOA POTHOVEN (PHOTO: INSTAGRAM)

Bringing you the best weekly reading from your friendly local website.

Emily Writes: We need to talk about Noa

“The stories everywhere were immediately click-worthy. I hate that straight away I was drawn in. Authorities had apparently granted a Dutch teenager her wish to be given assisted suicide. Legal under certain circumstances in the Netherlands, it seemed unlikely but possible. Very soon after, but probably too late by then, it was revealed that the initial stories were inaccurate. Noa Pothoven, 17, died after refusing to drink or eat.

Her death sparked a discussion about euthanasia and mental health. What is suicide? What is assisted suicide? Lost in the mix by many was what sparked her anorexia and her ultimately fatal mental illnesses.

Noa Pothoven was raped for the first time at age 11. And again by two men at age 14.”

Annabel Wilson: Welcome to NZ teaching, where you don’t get paid enough to be granted residency

“A colleague stood beside me on the picket line last week. Along with her partner, she’s packed up her life in South Africa to take on a specialist maths teaching job here. She’s committed herself wholeheartedly to her work and the wider life of the school and is already a much valued part of the fabric of our College. Since joining our community this year, she’s led our staff in morning karakia, joined the Social Club and put up her hand to be the ‘grief person’ who writes cards to colleagues in times of loss.

In the last four months, as well as meeting the daily requirements within the classroom, she’s been there at Pasifika evening, Polyfest, our overnight marae visit. She tells me that Immigration NZ has just declined her expression of interest in residency, because her pay is 0.39 cents per hour below the required threshold. When a highly skilled teacher is turned down from living here because they don’t earn enough, there’s something wrong.”

Toby Manhire: ‘It’s unhealthy to get up every morning to fight’: Chlöe Swarbrick with Marilyn Waring

“Despite the four decades that separated the two 23-year-olds’ arrival at parliament, one “real similarity with where I was”, said Waring, is in having to ‘be across so much’ – the volume of work and expectation was heightened when serving multiple constituencies, geographical and demographic. ‘You’ve just got to be a sponge, every single piece of information you can get, and you’re already working in overdrive, all the time.’

Amid that ‘sheer adrenalin and determination’, Waring suggested, was this: ‘I’m Chloe, I’m 24 years old, looking in the mirror, and I need to be able to keep engaging in the mirror for the rest of my life. And I’m going to have to live with this for decades longer than anyone else who’s in there. So you’re conscious of that?’

‘I am.'”

Peter McKenzie: Echoing Chlöe Swarbrick, a ‘youthquake’ rumbles through Wellington’s political scene

“The wave of young candidates Swarbrick has in part inspired can be seen all around the country. But it’s most obvious in Wellington, which is unsurprising given its hyper-political nature. In addition to Paul, there are five other Wellingtonians under 25 running in local body races: Teri O’Neill is running for Wellington City Council’s Eastern Ward, Joshua Trlin and Rabeea Inayatullah are running for Porirua City Council’s Northern Ward, Sophie Handford is running for a seat on the Kapiti Coast District Council, and Victoria Rhodes-Carlin is hoping to ride a wave of anti-incumbent fervour to a seat on the Greater Wellington Regional Council.

Their campaigns will be difficult, but Swarbrick doesn’t think young candidates should care. ‘Well, yeah it is [difficult]. But what do we have to lose? At the end of the day, local government and even central government is overrun by disproportionately older people who own capital in the form of properties, and it is therefore not representative of the majority of New Zealanders.’ To Swarbrick, something clearly needs to change.”

Emily Writes: A few upsides to us all dying in 2050

“So scientists have helpfully let us know that come 2050 we will all be burnt alive slash drown slash muslide slash rocks falling on your head. Climate change they say could become an ‘existential threat to human civilisation’ that can never be undone.

If that doesn’t have you breathing into a paper bag and trying to count backwards from ten I don’t know what will. There’s no coming back from this in my opinion because we’re all terrible humans and corporations and politicians will never get it together. All we can do is accept our inevitable demise*.

Until then, let’s look on the bright side! Here are ten great things about us all dying together.”

Alexander Stronach: Where you’re getting the Treasury budget data breach story all wrong

“The Treasury data breach has been a shitshow. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a bigger disconnect between the experts and the pundits, and I don’t say that lightly. I’m not a security guy, for what it’s worth: I’m a writer at a tech firm, but I’m fascinated by security and over the last few days I’ve been talking to people who actually know their stuff. Almost unanimously they’re calling this a breach. Almost unanimously, the pundits are off shouting that it’s ‘not a hack!’.

Right from the start, I’m setting a rule: we’re not going to talk about ‘hacking’. It means totally different things to the IT sector (anything from coding at all to randomly kludged spaghetti code that really shouldn’t work) and the public (a man in a trenchcoat saying ‘I’m in!’), and most InfoSec types shy away from it anyway. I’m not going to bore you with the whole hacking vs cracking debate, but we’re going to call this thing what it is: a data breach.

So what happened?”

Johnny Crawford: Shilling in the name of: John Key and how the right co-opts leftwing music

“It was 6pm and I’d long since given up on the hope of finishing an entire crate by myself. After the rest of the top five had been rounded out with songs by Metallica, Foo Fighters and Tool, The Rock broadcast a special message from John Key himself: “As prime minister of New Zealand I give permission to The Rock to play ‘Killing in the Name’ in full. Uncensored.”

This was a big deal! The song has 17 f-bombs and it has met with considerable controversy when it has been played uncensored overseas. I was feeling merry and my politics were not fully developed so I thought of this as a quaint moment of cultural cringe (like a metal version of the infamous three-way handshake) rather than something more sinister.

But the same forces that were at play when the song was tainted by Farage and Ryan were present when John Key pre-emptively pardoned The Rock. What was once dangerous and spoke truth to power had been sanded down and defanged by the very machine that Tom Morello was raging against. Yes, our former prime minister has a cringey uncle energy, but his three terms in power saw a continuation of the mass transfer of wealth and power from the poor to the rich. What does this song stand for if not everything that John Key doesn’t?”

Alice Webb-Liddall: Kura Forrester on winning the Billy T, being Māori, and having sex with an All Black

Are you one of those people who finds themselves in awkward situations often? I’m thinking particularly of one story you tell in your show, involving Sonny Bill Williams…

Definitely in relationships I’ve just had some doozies, but Sonny Bill was the weirdest one. That was just a one-night-stand though. It’s so amazing that it happened and when it happened I told myself I was never going to tell anyone about it, it was the sluttiest thing I’d ever done, and then I went and told hundreds of people every night.

When I was on The Project Jesse Mulligan was like “are Sonny Bill’s people going to ring you soon and ask you to shut it down?” and I was like “maybe, but until they do… it definitely happened, and I’m sure he’d just laugh about it, but also if he said ‘here’s $50,000 to never tell that story again’ I’d be like ‘cool’.” I don’t think I’m particularly a walking disaster or anything, but more and more now I kind of hope things happen to me so I can write about them.

Like the law of attraction, right? If you will it, it’ll materialise.

Exactly.