a movie that leaves us in mystery. We donít know
whether to laugh or cry, sleep or stay awake.
Most all of the material is as stupid and
artificial as any filmmaker could produce, but
the ironic satire that the film creates is
hysterically likable. The way the very serious
concept is dealt with somehow makes it okay for
us to laugh at bums, retarded people, and
authority. The ditzy ideas that Pumpkin
brings to the table are delectably favorable,
and make you think about sororities in a way
youíd never thought of before.
Carolyn McDuffy (Christina Ricci) is the most
energetic, blonde, and popular member of a very
competitive sorority house. She always outdoes
all of her fellow members at everything,
including men. Her boyfriend, Kent Woodlands
(Sam Ball), is the hunkiest member of the top
college tennis team in the country.
All is well, and she is prepared to take
a free ride through her last year in college,
but when her sorority is prepared to beat their
rival house, who live across the street, they
must take desperate measures. Every year, all of
the schools sororities participate in a chosen
event, to help society for the better. Carolynís
sorority chooses to help retarded people excel
in sporting. All of the girls are assigned a
partner to train with, and Carolyn is paired up
with a boy named Pumpkin Romanoff (Hank Harris).
At first, Pumpkin appears to be the most
dimwitted and colorless figure Carolyn has ever
met. But as time moves on the two fall in love,
and Carolyn must chose the man that she wants.
Should she choose the retarded boy, Pumpkin, or
This would seem like an obvious decision, but in
Pumpkin it isnít. The film is the
oddest and most lackluster affair Iíve engaged
in during my whole movie-going experience.
Despite what people may think, the actors did a
terrific job on this one. For an actor to act
badly is easy. For an actor to act well is hard.
For an actor to act badly, well, is harder. This
is what the cast In Pumpkin had to
do. The entire picture was supposed to look
klutzy, and terribly acted, and the actors were
able to do this well. Using the screenplay as
evidence, I know that we are supposed to believe
that the personalities are the most corny,
cheesy looking people weíve ever seen in our
lives. Carolyn McDuffy and Pumpkinís
relationship isnít supposed to be a serious
conversion of two types of people, but an
attempt to make us think. Half of what is said
in the flick doesnít make sense, but thatís half
of the beauty. We are supposed to deeply ponder
material that isnít supposed to be pondered, for
lack of a better term. The material is like a
big practical joke on its audiences, but itís a
fun one. The stupid and insanely bizarre usage
of irony never becomes annoying or innerving,
but rather humorous.
direction, by Adam Larson Broder and Tony Abrams
is intriguing. This might sound extremely
stupid, but the ability to direct such
unidirectional material is amazing.
Pumpkin seems to be some reckless effort to
waste peoplesí money, but when you dig down deep
into its core, there is a thought provoking
meaning to it all. Most all of its goodies are
hidden, but if you can see the emotions of these
otherwise comical characters that the direction
tries to show, it is actually quite remarkable.
Anyone who can watch this film without a thing
going through their head must have the IQ of a
baby. Most of what makes us think is created by
the director. Every frame of video is
interesting, and portrays a certain thought. If
all movies were like this, the world would be a
very confused place. This is what makes
Pumpkin so good, its uniqueness.
Pumpkin is one of a kind, and will
be remembered when I go to make my list for the
top ten movies of the year. The direction is
stunningly intriguing, and adds just the right
amount of sugar and spice to every scene shown
in the final cut of the film. The performances
are flawless, and Christina Ricciís is an
extremely special mention. For a night of mixed
emotions, this movie will not be a let down.
Pumpkin will make you want to
laugh, cry, and even permit sexual urges. Irony