
cidence; in the earlier film Scott characterized MOTHER-
HOOD as something dangerous: the alien reproduces by
implanting its young in human beings. The birth of the new
alien is equally horrific in the famous “chestbusting” scene
involving Kane (JOHN HURT). In Monkey Trouble Amurri
is less apprehensive of the idea of motherhood, but suggests
that the monkey needs a good mother (just like Eva does) in
order to grow and develop. Otherwise it might become like
the alien—a menace to the existing social order.
Perhaps uniquely for a film involving Scott, the location
is one of perpetual sunshine in Venice and other areas of
LOS ANGELES. This is a world whose inhabitants spend a
lot of time on the beach, or walking beside the beach, watch-
ing the various sideshows on offer. The film shows several
images of happy couples walking together; of families enjoy-
ing the sunshine; of young people swimming and flying
kites. Leroe’s novelization describes the scene thus: “There
was a party going on, and it was all happening at Venice . . .
On this sunny afternoon, the smell of cotton candy, grilling
hot dogs, and suntan lotion filled the air. So did music.” The
streets are as crowded as those in Blade Runner and BLACK
RAIN; the only difference being that the Los Angeles of
Monkey Trouble does not seem a threatening place. Yet the
word “seems” here is significant; even by the seaside there
remains the perpetual threat of crime, with Dodger stealing
purses and jewelry on command.
The same sense underlines a comic chase sequence in
which Eva and Dodger are pursued by Azro. Dodger escapes
from the back of Eva’s bicycle, and leads the gypsy on a wild
goose chase—flying kites, crawling under cars, concealing
himself beneath a cardboard box, and upsetting a sunbather’s
umbrella. The gypsy runs after the monkey, steals a skateboard
and a bicycle, and grabs the ropes controlling the kite; but still
he cannot catch him. Eventually the monkey jumps back into
the back of Eva’s bicycle and the two of them escape. The
sequence is very funny, handled at a brisk pace by Amurri; but
throughout these remains the uneasy feeling that, were Azro
to catch them, then the girl and the monkey would be in great
danger. Utopias can very easily be transformed into
DYSTOPIAS. Leroe’s prose captures this sense well by means
of repetition and alliteration: “Dodger was desperate. Shorty
[Azro] was coming closer. Any minute Shorty would turn and
see him . . . There was only one thing to do. Dodger jumped
off the bike and scampered over to a pile of cardboard boxes
and trash cans ...Using the box for cover, Dodger stumbled
across the boardwalk. He blindly bumped into hairy knees,
skateboards, and baby strollers. He was going to get away, until
a barking dog tipped the box over.”
There have been no critical essays published on the film;
but it has been referenced in Kicking and Screaming (1995)
and Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl
(2003).
References
Hugo Davenport, “Monkey Trouble,” Daily Telegraph, 14 October
1994, 24; Nick James,“Monkey Trouble,” Sight and Sound,Novem-
ber 1994, 50; Sheila Johnston,“Monkey Trouble,” Independent,13
October 1994, 44; Ellen Leroe, Monkey Trouble: A Novel Based on
the Screenplay by Franco Amurri and Stu Krieger (New York: Min-
strel Books, 1994), 1, 20, 83, 144, 149; “Monkey Trouble,” Va rie ty,
21–27 March 1994, 57–58; Neil Norman, “Monkey Trouble,”
Evening Standard, 13 October 1994, 45; Pressbook, Money Trouble
(London, Entertainment Film Distributors Ltd., 1994), 11, 13;
Holly Willis, “Monkey Business,” Hollywood Reporter, 1 August
1993, 39.
MOORE, DEMI (1962– )
Born Demetria Gene Guynes in New Mexico. Left school at
sixteen to try to become an actor. Her breakout film was St.
Elmo’s Fire (1985); two years later she met Bruce Willis,
whom she married. Her biggest hit, Ghost, was in 1990, and
her subsequent films included A Few Good Men (1992) and
The Scarlet Letter (1996).
Evidently it was Moore who initiated the project to film
G.I. JANE and engaged Scott to direct. Scott felt “it would be
a good film for Demi. I’d also wanted to work with her—I
think she’s one of the best actors we’ve got.” The film’s pub-
licity made much of the arduousness of Moore’s role, the
fact that she not only trained hard, but did all her own
stunts. Interviewed for a 1990 biography, she claimed that
“it would be death to just sit where I might be safe. Either
I’m a fool or have some sense of risk-taking or courage.
There are too many things in life that I want to know and to
taste and, as an actor, I get that kind of opportunity. If I can
walk away from this film knowing just a little bit more ...of
what might be, it’s mine and it has changed me for the rest
of my life.” The Sunday Times reported that the experience
of filming proved tough for her: “Her set dispatches include
tales of chronic sunburn, one-arm push-ups and ‘surf tor-
ture,’ a process that involved floating motionless in near-
freezing sea water for hours at a time.” However, she
particularly enjoyed being part of an almost entirely male
set: “I had a feeling from them of support and respect that
was so fantastic and not even remotely about gender.”
As with her other roles, Moore’s performance in the
film is competent, but we get the feeling that we are being
manipulated throughout: any obstacle in her path will be
overcome so that she can achieve her goal. Alexander Walker
observed in the Evening Standard that “it [her performance]
is the ultimate proof of what the movie-makers have
manoeuvred us into accepting—namely, that women who
want to claim the same rights as men must possess the same
attributes as men.” Critics generally disliked her interpreta-
tion of the role; and she was nominated for the 1997 award
for Worst Actress of the Year, despite her efforts to publicize
MOORE, DEMI (1962– )
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