Misunderstood Masterpieces: Clue

Posted by Will Helm on 09.28.2004

…or, And Now for Something Completely Different

There comes a time in quite a few lives when said individual has to put up or shut up and make good on all the promises and potential therein. This, dear readers, is one of those times. Today’s column is something new and different for me, for this week I shall feature – and champion – a film that is a true “misunderstood masterpiece.” Yes, friends, I’m actually bringing you a movie I enjoy and admire and bringing it to you in my own inimitable style . . . but with the utmost respect. Why?

Well . . .

Um . . .

Why don’t you tell them, sweetheart?

No. You know . . . I told you that you weren’t going to “tap it,” as you so eloquently put it recently, until you let me help you, but this is RIDICULOUS! I refuse – REFUSE – to help you with this. It’s not fair! I love this movie . . . I’ve seen it as many times as Sal Piro has seen Rocky Horror (yes, she’s a Rocky Horror freak too), it’s given me comfort during certain periods . . . for Christ’s sake. I’d rather contemplate Oasis. And Mentos. They’re The Freshmaker. Ah . . . I Love the ‘90s is on. Anyway, first you skip the “mandatory” jewelry for our anniversary AND my birthday and now this? I hate you.

Happy birthday, darling.

Anyway, released in 1985, Clue, based on the legendary board game of the same name, featured what was a very inventive – though largely unpopular – gimmick: three endings were made for the film and would be shown, at random, in the theater. While quite novel, this may have also doomed the film to box office failure, as movie-goers – rightly so – would have a 1-in-3 chance of seeing the same movie if they wanted to see all the endings; therefore, the ingenious device became seen as a greedy ruse rather than creative endeavor. Topping off at, initially, a little under its $15,000,000 budget, Clue could have been considered an unmitigated flop. Much like many films nowadays, Clue found its niche on the medium of home video. With all three variations presented at the end of the film, viewers were treated to all the permutations of the film at once, leading to its rise as a comedy cult classic, a status it enjoys to this day. Of course, just because the film’s a cult classic . . . does that mean it’s good? YES! It’s time for me to work my magic, I suppose . . .

Somewhere it’s cloudy. A BRILLIANT observation. The “Guinness Guys” would be proud. Very cloudy. Almost too cloudy. And Misunderstood Masterpieces Hall of Famer Tim Curry is on hand to open a gate. Exciting, huh? While the credits inform us that the story was co-conceived by John Landis, one of the most hit-or-miss figures in filmdom, Tim Curry throws meat at angry dogs. Perhaps as karmic retribution for the beef-flinging, Curry then finds his foot squarely implanted in a pile of dog feces. You know, that really is quite karmic; if Curry didn’t throw the meat at the dogs, they couldn’t eat, and, therefore, they could not produce feces for Curry to step into. It’s circular, man; you know, like a circle. Inside the giant house which the gate and the dogs guard, we discover that it’s New England, it’s 1954, and it’s swingin’, baby. How do we know it’s swingin’? Well, a very well-endowed maid (Colleen Camp) polishes glasses lasciviously. Who knew that housework could be done lasciviously anyway?

After Curry takes stock of the goings on, the doorbell rings – loudly – and Curry opens it to find “Col. Mustard” (Martin Mull) – not his real name – waiting on the other side. Curry, who introduces himself as “Wadsworth, the butler,” leads the colonel into the lounge where Mustard has a drink with Yvette, the top-heavy domestic. Moments later, Wadsworth answers the front door once more and this time “Mrs. White” (Madeline Kahn) is there. He leads her into the lounge, to join Mustard and Yvette, and, upon seeing each other, White and Yvette flinch. Yes, a very palpable flinch. I do declare it! Meanwhile, Christopher Lloyd picks up a hitchhiking Lesley Ann Warren from a rainy roadside. Back at the house, “Ms. Peacock” (Eileen Brennan) arrives and, upon entering the lounge, is quite confused by the immensity of Yvette’s chest. Next, a very submissive and demure “Mr. Green” (Michael McKean) shows up; he’s quickly followed by “Professor Plum” (Lloyd), who grabs the derriere of “Miss Scarlet” (Warren) as they wait at the front door.

Now that most of the guests have arrived, Wadsworth reveals that all of their names are actually aliases – as if we couldn’t have figured that out ourselves. He then corrals our partygoers into the dining room for – unsurprisingly – dinner. Before the meal, however, Mustard questions Wadsworth as to the nature of his profession; Wadsworth’s clever reply: he “butles.” Ah, that dry wit. Savor it, my friends. At the table, the guests are apprehensive until Peacock starts talking . . . and talking . . . and talking . . . and, ahem, talking . . . and talking. Of course, all that talking at the dinner table is bound to cause some tension, and TENSION there is, as Peacock gets a little too personal with her compatriots and divulges IMPORTANT PLOT POINTS! She then reveals the most IMPORTANT PLOT POINT of them all, by stating that they’re all eating on of her favorite dishes. More on that later.

Ahem . . . excuse me? What about the slurping part? I mean, you’re completely tearing apart my favorite movie OF ALL TIME and you don’t even take time to mention the slurping? It’s an IMPORTANT PLOT POINT! Oh, by the way . . . I still hate you.

Throughout the course of the meal, one seat at the table is left unoccupied. While it may be for Elijah, the diners’ curiosities get the best of them and tempers begin to flare, until . . . the doorbell rings! Scared you, didn’t I? Who is this mystery guest? None other than our host for the evening, Wink Martindale! Oh, wait . . . it’s just the enigmatic Mr. Boddy (Lee Ving, whose name is wonderfully ironically appropriate) and he’s on hand to ratchet up the TENSION to dangerous levels! It is uncovered that every guest is there for some private, confidential reason . . . and then they all retire to the study for brandy, coffee, and exposition. Once there, Scarlet lights up a cigarette while Wadsworth opens a curious package; moments later, there’s yet more TENSION as Mr. Boddy freaks out because he can’t escape from the house. You see, all the doors are locked and the windows are barred. And there are some really angry meat-eating, feces-producing dogs outside too. Now, if they could get the feces-producing dogs with the poo-hurling monkeys, that’d be a new wave of biowarfare. But I digress . . . often.

Upon calming Mr. Boddy down and the party returning to the study, Wadsworth reveals their raison d’être: all of the guests at the soiree are victims of blackmail. He then goes on to list their iniquities, as I shall do, post haste. Professor Plum, it seems, is a doctor defrocked due to his proclivity for sexually assaulting his female patients. Ms. Peacock is the corrupt wife of a politician, selling clout to the highest bidder. Miss Scarlet, who actually confesses her issue, is a madam in Washington, D.C. Col. Mustard . . . well, I’m not quite sure what he’s done, yet. It’s something bad, for sure. Mrs. White might have murdered her nuclear physicist husband; the fact that she’s more than just a bit schizo leads one to believe that allegation. Mr. Green, with what has to be the tamest secret nowadays – but not in 1954, is gay. Finally, it is discovered that Mr. Boddy has a secret as well: he’s the blackmailer! Upon the utterance of that startling revelation, Mustard picks a fight with Mr. Boddy, who then finds himself violently crotched by Mrs. White.

AND then there’s the bloody nose . . . WHAT ABOUT THE BLOODY NOSE! Ugh . . . fine . . . if you’re going to neglect it, I’ll explain it. You see, Colonel Mustard gets back up after the scuffle with a bloody nose . . . and this is very important later on – dare I say an IMPORTANT PLOT POINT. OK, you can carry on now.

After the melee, as Yvette sits in the billiard room, recording the conversation and playing with her balls, Mr. Boddy distributes some gifts to the guests from his little bag. Inside each package is none other than the murder weapons we have grown to love: the revolver, the lead pipe, the wrench, the top hat, the rook, and the Jenga block. No . . . silly. It’s wrong. Funny, but wrong. Miss Scarlet gets the candlestick. Mrs. White gets the rope, Professor Plum gets the gun, Mrs. Peacock gets the knife, Mr. Green get the lad pipe, and Colonel Mustard gets the wrench. But who got the Jenga block? I don’t know what’s worse . . . the fact that I knew that or the fact that I did that list from memory. After a few moments of dumbstruck curiosity, Mr. Boddy unveils his master plan to the guests; at his command, they are to bring the night to an end by killing Wadsworth, taking the key to the front door, and leaving, ne’er to say a word to anyone about this ever again. Mr. Boddy sets the plan into motion by turning out the lights. He’s hoist by his own petard, however, as, after the ensuing chaos ends and the lights are once again turned on, he’s DEAD! Oh, and there’s TENSION!

So much TENSION, in fact, that Peacock, when it is suggested that the brandy may have been poisoned, leading to Mr. Boddy’s demise, screams uncontrollably. Well, uncontrollably until Green slaps her straight across the face. Why? Well, he, of course, had to stop her screaming. After Peacock is stifled, the surviving guests gather around her and stare at her, waiting for her tragic demise. It doesn’t come, however, but what does come is Yvette . . . well, Yvette’s screaming, at least. In terror. Perverts. The assembled throng rushes to her aid, but the aid is unwarranted, as she was just randomly freaking out. In the aftermath, Wadsworth exposes his backstory to the curious guests; it seems that he was a victim of Mr. Boddy as well and the party – and the aliases – were his idea. Why was he a victim? Well, he dearly deceased wife was . . . a friend . . . of Socialists! I still don’t know what the hell that means. Dum-dum-DUM! Oh, and the police will be arriving in thirty-nine minutes. Good to know.

After Wadsworth’s soul-bearing moment to shine, the group realizes that there is another person in the house: the cook (Kellye Nakahara)! Of course, the cook would be more helpful if she were alive, but, much to Green’s chagrin – as she had fallen into his arms, she’s just dead weight. Now with two corpses on their hands, the assembled do what anyone in such a situation would do: herd them together into one room. There’s a bit of a problem with that plan, though, as, once they return to the study, Mr. Boddy’s body is gone! Oh yeah, baby . . . there’s TENSION! Instead of looking for Mr. Boddy’s wandering remains, the crew instead drops the cook in the doorway and then they peruse some incriminating negatives while arguing about semantics and grammar. Meanwhile, in the lavatory – which I don’t remember being on the game board, Peacock is assaulted by zombie Mr. Boddy! ½-zombie Mel would be proud . . . and jealous. Sadly, zombie Mr. Boddy isn’t a zombie at all, he’s just a clumsy, shambling corpse . . . which does sound oddly like a zombie. OK, I got it; he’s an inanimate corpse, acting like it’s walking for humorous purposes within the parameters of the film. There . . . that solves everything. Although it may be best if they cut off his head, just to be safe. But what about his . . . oh . . . you know? (Honestly, I don’t want to know.) You don’t want any brain-gobbling ghouls terrorizing 1954 New England.

After the uproarious encounter with the undead, the guests drag Mr. Boddy’s now motionless corpse into the study and plop it onto the couch, along with the cook and Prof. Plum, who proves he’s not above necrophilia when he grabs the cook’s ample haunch. But he had no where to put his hands! He could’ve put them in his lap, sweetheart. Oh . . . shut up. In the meantime, Wadsworth collects the weapons from the guests and locks them in a pantry for safekeeping. Then, in a moment of brilliance, he elects to throw away the key from the front door . . . but neglects to do so, because, standing in his way, is a mysterious motorist (Jeffery Kramer). He merely wants to use the phone, so Wadsworth accedes and locks him in the corpse-free lounge. Meanwhile, the rest of the party goes to the corpse-laden study for a drink . . . and I can’t say that I blame them. TENSIONS, as per this particular idiom, are running high, so Col. Mustard suggests that the group splits up into pairs in order to search the house for a killer we know isn’t there since there’s no one but the motorist left alive in the house. Whew. I think it’s just a ruse to use the old military analogy about omelets and to allow for yet another murder. The group draws matches to split up, leading to the intriguing pairings of Green and Yvette, Mustard and Scarlet, Plum and Peacock, and Wadsworth and White . . . attorneys at law.

While Yvette and Green ponder searching the attic, standing at the foot of the stairs for a comically indeterminate amount of time, Plum and Peacock clumsily search the cellar. Wadsworth and White, meanwhile, wander around the second floor as Mustard and Scarlet lollygag on the first, hanging out in the billiard room. After the comically indeterminate amount of time passes, Green and Yvette decide to scale the stairs to the attic simultaneously . . . as in together . . . as in literally side-by-side. Hilarity, as is wont to do in these situations, ensues, and it isn’t exclusive to our favorite French maid and . . . homosexual. And I bet that you thought I would continue with the alliteration there. On the first floor, while Scarlet is startled by a crack in the ballroom window, someone burns the evidence in the study. Outside, a cop snoops around the motorist’s abandoned car. Speaking of the motorist, he’s bludgeoned in the lounge with the wrench. By whom? You’ll see . . .

After the surreptitious murder, Mustard finds a secret passageway from one of the rooms to the lounge . . . and the dead driver! Everyone, and I mean EVERYONE, freaks out! In the ensuing chaos – again, Wadsworth unsuccessfully attempts to break down the locked door to the lounge with brute force, but Yvette succeeds by shooting it – and Col. Mustard – with the revolver. Col. Mustard survives, as it was only a flesh wound, but I do hope he doesn’t bleed on me. In the aftermath, the chandelier falls, nearly killing the colonel . . . and then the front doorbell rings again! This time, it’s the cop (Bill Henderson) from earlier in the picture; needless to say, the door is closed in a most hasty manner nary a moment later. After a brief commiseration, Mr. Green and Wadsworth let the cop in, much to the chagrin of the rest of the group. They lock him in the library for a bit, which unnerves him until he gets a call from J. Edgar Hoover! Wow . . . THE J. Edgar Hoover? Yeah. Under threat of a – false – charge of murder, Wadsworth opens the door to the library and takes the call from the sweet transvestite head of the FBI. Meanwhile, Green gives the cop a tour of the ground floor, but the cop’s curiosity gets the best of him, leading to him wishing to investigate the goings on in the study and the lounge. Green doth protest, but the cop insists; Green’s apprehension is all for naught, however, as the rest of the guests successfully gull the cop into thinking that the assemblage of corpses are still alive . . . well, except for the motorist. He’s “dead drunk.” Meanwhile, doesn’t it bother anybody that Mrs. White is making out with a dead guy? The cop, satiated by his discovery, informs the quizzical Wadsworth that all is well inside the house . . . so Wadsworth locks him in the library again.

With the cop safely imprisoned in the library, the group splits up again . . . and then someone shuts off the power. Under the cover of darkness, a mystery assailant strangles Yvette with the rope and the cop is bludgeoned with the lead pipe. Wadsworth takes a shower and a singing telegram girl (Go-Gos guitarist Jane Wiedlin) is shot at the front door. Hmmm . . . I guess that Go-Go just went-went. OK. OK. I like that one. My name is Val and I approve of this joke. John F. Kerry would be proud. After the lights return, the surviving guests find the bodies and Wadsworth reveals that he knows who the culprit is! Ah, Poirot would be proud. Of course, in the vein of every single detective movie ever made, Wadsworth must first recap everything we’ve seen for the last hour or so. Luckily for us, he does so very quickly and it is, quite often, very, very, very funny as well. During his madcap performance, Wadsworth reveals why everyone was present at the party that evening: the cook and Yvette were Mr. Boddy’s accomplices and Yvette had an affair with Mrs. White’s dead husband and Yvette was a hooker for Miss Scarlet AND Yvette also shtupped Col. Mustard. I guess that means that, for the first time ever, it wasn’t Mustard that was spread.

After that prurient discovery, Wadsworth senselessly abuses Mr. Green under the guise of demonstrating the method of Mr. Boddy’s murder. Ah, a stone-cold case of gay-bashing if I’ve ever seen it. We then learn, through a breakdown on the part of Col. Mustard, that the motorist worked for him during the war and that the good colonel was not only a john, but a war profiteer! The horror! Halliburton would be proud. It is also revealed that the cop was a pawn in Miss Scarlet’s web of deceit and that the Go-Go was one of the patients Prof. Plum did a no-no with. After the spontaneous episode of backstory, another visitor rings at the door . . . and it’s door-to-door missionary Johnny Fever (Howard Hesseman)! He’s quickly shooed away by the guests, just in time for Wadsworth to reveal the true culprit . . .

And it’s Yvette! What? Yvette? Well, according to Wadsworth, she killed Mr. Boddy and the cook, so that makes her a murderer. But is she THE murderer? Well, for that answer, we’d have to ask Miss Scarlet, as Wadsworth does, complete with very believable – yet still entirely circumstantial – motives and methods. He then requests that the true murderer pull out the incriminating revolver . . . and Miss Scarlet does! Well, I’ll be! Upon this shocking development, Mr. Green accuses her of being a Communist, but she just laughs that off as a red herring. Remember that for future reference. Scarlet, now revealed as the killer, wants to kill Wadsworth, but he confuses her with math, which was never her strong suit at Prostitute University. Just as Scarlet is about to off Wadsworth, FBI agents bust in and arrest our foul villain; in the denouement, Wadsworth accidentally shoots down another chandelier, nearly killing Col. Mustard. I guess math wasn’t his strong suit either. Oh, and his nose is bleeding again. Gee, I wonder in what order they shot these scenes?

So, that’s it for this . . . wait a minute! There’s another ending. Interesting. From this point, we join the other ending, already in progress. And this time, instead of the happy madam being the murderer, it’s the scatterbrained Ms. Peacock! How does Wadsworth know this? Well, because of the IMPORTANT PLOT POINT from before, that’s how! You see, at dinner, the guests were served Peacock’s favorite dish: chilled monkey’s brains, which are popular in Cantonese cuisine but hard to find in the Washington, D.C. area . . . unless you know the cook. Yet again, the label of Communist is bandied about and, yet again, it’s just a red herring. Again, the gun is the symbol of guilt and, this time, Wadsworth’s conjecture was spot-on, as it was in the possession of Peacock all along! I guess the eccentricity was all a ruse; well played, madam, well played indeed. While Peacock plans her slick getaway, Wadsworth conspires to cover up the murders . . . until Peacock is safely outside. Then he just jokes about J. Edgar Hoover while Johnny Fever, FBI agent, arrests Mrs. Peacock. In the denouement, Mr. Green believes Mrs. Peacock to be a sweet transvestite and then he gets slapped around for it. Great . . . more gay bashing.

Anyway, I guess that’s it for this install . . . oh, you’ve got to be kidding me. Another ending?!? And this time you’re claiming it’s the “real” one? You better be right, movie. That’s all I’m saying. So anyway, this time Mrs. Peacock killed the cook – wait, that’s the same as last time – and they still ate the monkey’s brains. In a new and interesting development, however, Col. Mustard murdered his former driver and Prof. Plum bludgeoned Mr. Boddy. Hmm . . . now we’re getting somewhere. Mrs. White cut the power to the house and strangled Yvette – who Mrs. White was EXTREMELY jealous of – while Miss Scarlet clubbed the cop. Now, with nearly all the corpses accounted for, who killed the Go-Go? Why Wadsworth, that’s who! What?!? Well, it wasn’t really Wadsworth, it was . . . Mr. Boddy! What what?!?! Well, you see, Wadsworth wasn’t really Wadsworth . . . he was Mr. Boddy all along. And Mr. Boddy, all along, was actually the butler, who may or may not have been named Wadsworth. It’s all so confusing, even as Mr. Boddy or Wadsworth or whatever his name is exposes himself. Communism, meanwhile . . . still a red herring. Now, after surveying the damage done here, Mr. Green has neither killed nor been killed through the entire picture, which means that Mr. Boddy has to complete the cycle by killing Green. Green has other ideas, however, as he pulls his gun – that he had the whole time – and plugs Mr. Boddy. Why would Mr. Green have a gun? Well, he’s not a submissive homosexual bureaucrat after all; he’s really an FBI agent . . . and he’s straight. Ah, what a punchline.

You know, it’s not often that I say this, but it really is a shame that this film was encumbered by it’s inherent gimmick. AMEN! It isn’t often that you find a film written with such wit and performed by a quirky collection of comedic geniuses, as Clue is. Perhaps that’s why the home video release led to the cult status; in that format, the viewer could take in the madcap lunacy of the film and each of the bizarre endings in one fell swoop, rather than in the theater, where countless viewings would be needed to see the true film. There’s times when the films I cover drag down cinema in their awfulness; this is one film I want to lift from the muck of iniquity . . . and I hope I have.

I really hope I have.

You have. I still love this movie. And I still hate you.

Join me next week as we bring back a feature dormant for the past eleven months. Yes, that’s right folks . . . it’s time, once again, for Horror Movie-Mania 2004! I know you’re excited.