HOUSESITTER: Blu-ray (Universal, 1992) Universal Home Video

A low-key comedy that managed to take home an impressive $94,900,635 worldwide at the box office, Frank Oz’s Housesitter (1992) remains an outstandingly slick and silly tale of grotesque misdirection triumphing over truth and reality, along the way, creating its own truth and reality that is far more appealing to its protagonists, and, immensely satisfying for the audience. Reality, it ought to be noted, is never what we would wish it to be. Whether due to humanity’s innate dissatisfaction with its own circumstances, or an otherworldly conspiracy, meant to deprive us of nirvana here on earth, what we experience in our everyday never quite lives up to that storefront of daydreams that cumulatively make up our fantasies and hopeful wish fulfillment. Not so for Gwen Duncle/Buckley/Phillips (Goldie Hawn, in one of her best roles), the exuberant madcap and unapologetic liar who merely conjures what she desires out of life. Gwen is a con artist extraordinaire and Hawn plays her with such unassuming empathy, we cannot help but instantly to take a liking to her pixie-like playfulness as she weaves her spellbinder’s story of personal hardship to ease the rest of the unassuming players into seeing things her way. We have all met a ‘Gwen’ in life. Usually, however, this figure is either deviously tragic and up to no good, or insidiously manipulative, losing favor and friendships along the way and destined to remain alone. That our Gwen herein manages precisely the opposite is both sentimentally satisfying and an anathema and a sacrilege to mama’s childhood rearing - something about ‘always telling the truth’. Ho-hum and how boring! And, of course, the ruse would quite simply not work if Hawn’s kooky conniver did not have an amiable fop and side-swiped stooge to cocoon inside her little web of dreams.

Steve Martin, whose film career was in full swing in 1992, coming off an enviable string of super-hit comedies, including 1987’s Roxanne, and, Planes, Trains and Automobiles, 1988’s Dirty Rotten Scoundrels, Parenthood (1989), My Blue Heaven (1990), and three bell-ringers in 1991 - L.A. Story, Father of the Bride, and, Grand Canyon – is the perfect foil for Hawn’s delicious deceiver; playing ever-so-slightly against type as harried ‘straight man’, Newton Davis. Martin’s great gift to Housesitter is his uncanny ability to remain obsequious to Hawn’s happy-go-lucky. Indeed, there are very few moments here where we get that ‘wild and crazy kind’a guy’ Martin’s early career on television and in the movies typified. And Martin, perhaps more introspective – and certainly, far more talented than he ever let on in the movies – perhaps recognized that the time to retire that persona had come. Retrospectively, the movies after 1991 illustrate Martin’s agility to assimilate into the ‘common folk’ – his roles, featuring less of that ‘look, ma’ – no hands’, grand-standing quality, and more of the lovably obtuse, bumbler and slightly off-kilter ‘good guy’ who just happens to be imbued with a sincere spark of comedic genius. And in Housesitter, Martin is, of course, brilliantly funny, seemingly without even trying. From the moment his conservative grunt in an architectural firm drops the romantic baton with childhood sweetheart, Becky Metcalf (Dana Delany, in a role originally slated for Meg Ryan), rather callously rejected outright in his marriage proposal, despite having been inspired to build his own architectural monstrosity on the picturesque shores of a quaint New England town for Becky to live in, to the high-water mark where Newton is forced to sing – badly – a fractured rendition of ‘Too-Ra-Loo-Ra-Loo-Ral’ to his teary-eyed father, George (the late, Donald Moffat), just to save face with his boss, Winston Moseby (Roy Cooper), Martin achieves a sort of frustrated soaring virtuosity. We genuinely feel for Newton Davis because he is buffeted on all sides by criticism and craziness, he can neither manage nor entirely dismiss; the fates already conspired against him, though ironically, for his own good.

Housesitter’s support cast is humorously on point: Peter MacNicol’s sycophantic appendage, Marty who, by his own admission, would treasure the opportunity to have his lips permanently sewn to his boss’ ass, is a formidable funny man, later to find enduring fame as the harried attorney at law, John Cage, on TV’s Ally McBeal (1997-2002). MacNicol isn’t given a whole lot to do in Housesitter, but when he appears on the screen, he strikes an indelible impression that lingers and makes Marty appear to be more involved in the story than he actually is. The late Richard B. Shull and Laurel Cronin (who tragically passed away from cancer at age 53 the same year as this movie’s release) are formidable humorists, respectively cast as drunken/homeless couple, Ralph and Mary, ingeniously reincarnated, cleaned up and made momentarily respectable by Gwen as her estranged parents, Bernie and Mary, caught up in the art of make-believe too. Julie Harris adds unexpected ballast to the part of Edna, Newton’s doting mother who, with Gwen’s aid, helps to broker a peace between Newton and his estranged father. And last, but not least, is Christopher Durang – whose name may not be as well known, but whose pie-shaped visage and effete mannerisms make for the indelibly idiotic cleric, Reverend Lipton. See you in church – indeed! Housesitter’s cast would be nothing at all without a clever screenplay by Mark Stein, conceived from a story idea by Stein and producer, Brian Grazer, that allows for every cast member to have at least a couple of lines of meaningful and/or funny dialogue to add genuine staying power to their characterizations. At barely 101 minutes, we sincerely feel the weight of each character in this glorious wild card of a plot spinning wildly out of control, though even more miraculously, never quite to careen off its axis.

After Miles Goodman’s bouncy main title, and a preamble to the main event - Newton’s proposal of marriage, spurned by Becky - we are more formally introduced to Martin’s clumsily retiring and sincerely bored architect’s assistant. Indeed, Newton Davis is a brilliant draftsman waiting to be discovered. Not that his boss, Winston Moseby would ever discover him on his own. And Newton’s best friend, Marty – merely a cog in the great wheel of the firm – knows Newton’s could rise above his current position – if only he would ‘pucker up’ to the possibilities. Marty also recognizes his own envy, enough to magnanimously step aside when he might just as easily might stab a friend in the back, merely to get ahead. Since having thrown all of his life savings into the aforementioned dream home he hoped to share with Becky, Newton has become sullen and even more removed from life. Marty encourages him to attend the inaugural party for Winston’s new high-rise project, held at the Little Budapest Restaurant. There, Newton inadvertently meets Gwen, a waitress who reports to be of Hungarian extraction and speaks very little English. Condescending towards Gwen, Newton is later startled when she bids her fellow wait staff goodnight in perfect English, giving Newton a dirty glance as she departs. Riddled with guilt, Newton apologizes for his behavior and offers to take Gwen home. She resists a ride, but allows Newton to follow her back to her apartment on foot. Along the way, he regales her with his sad-eyed tale of being rejected by his childhood sweetheart, Becky – the only woman he has ever loved.

Despite this confession, Gwen invites Newton up to her apartment and the two wind up in bed together. The next morning, Gwen awakens alone, but finds Newton has left behind the drawing of the house he built for Becky, doodled on a cocktail napkin. Hatching a plan of action, Gwen packs up, quits her job and heads to Docker’s Mills, the hometown whose virtues Newton extolled the previous night, and the place where his dream house sits, still abandoned on the edge of a picturesque lake.  Witnessing a local putting her groceries and other items on a tab, the penniless Gwen bribes the local merchant, Travis (Heywood Hale Broun) into allowing her the same luxury by claiming to be Newton’s wife – a conversation overheard by Becky, who then tries to befriend Gwen to glean all the information she can from Newton’s ‘new bride’. Coming upon a high school sanctioned, fund-raising ‘yard sale’, Gwen becomes enamored with a recliner and asks the seller to deliver it to Newton’s home. Asked by the seller who Gwen is, she again lies about having wed Newton several days earlier, at which time the seller reveals himself to be Newton’s father, George. Deeply wounded by his son’s inability to contact the family regarding ‘his marriage’, Gwen manages to learn from Newton’s mother, Edna that Newton became estranged after he and George had a falling out regarding personal responsibility. For the time being, Gwen suggests George pass along messages through her to give to Newton.  

Alas, this clever plan of separation will not last for very long.  Newton has decided to sell the house in Docker’s Mills and arrives with a ‘for sale’ sign, only to find it fully furnished. At first, unable to comprehend how Gwen found her way to his place, she now reveals the terrible ‘truth’ about all of the lies she has inculcated since her arrival in town. Newton is furious, but then begins to see potential in keeping up the pretext of their faux marriage, as it appears to be drawing Becky closer to his side. Gwen has also cast a spell on his folks and a reconciliation with George soon follows. Conspiring with Gwen, who agrees to keep up appearances, long enough to help Newton land a promotion with his company, the pair soon realize it will take a lot more than a few tall tales to maintain this charade – their back story becoming muddled after a frustrated Newton suggests Gwen has cheated on him since their wedding with an old boyfriend: footballer, Boomer Bauer, a total figment of Newton’s imagination. In reply, George and Edna call upon Reverend Lipton to mediate a reconciliation and offer marital counseling. Meanwhile, Becky becomes flirtatious with Newton and Gwen returns to Boston to ingratiate herself to Moseby to land Newton his promotion. Telling even more lies about her own father, who, in reality, she never met, Gwen suggests both he and Moseby served together in the same outfit during the war. Eager to catch up on old stories, Moseby agrees to attend a house party in the country, meant as a sort of ‘coming out’ party to announce Gwen and Newton’s marriage to their friends and family.

Problem: Gwen needs to acquire some parents in less than forty-eight hours. So, she turns to Ralph and Mary – a pair of homeless drunks who frequented the trash bin outside her old apartment. Dressing them up, Gwen gets Ralph to play the part of her father, Bernie. He gets stinking drunk and sputters off complete lies about the war – ironically corroborated by Moseby, who believes ‘Bernie’ might be suffering from PSD. In the meantime, Newton takes Moseby on a tour of the house he designed, showing off his architectural skills that fairly impress the boss. Only now, another crisis arises. Having realized how well her deceits have taken hold – and furthermore, recognizing she will have to vacate this plush and bucolic comfort to make way for Becky, whom Newton is still pursuing (and, whose heart he is now most assuredly to win) Gwen has barricaded herself in the bedroom, even as guests are arriving for the party. Confronting Newton publicly about his enduring love for Becky, Newton still believes all of this is part of Gwen’s grand plan to give him the perfect life. Previously been told by Gwen how Newton and George set aside their differences after Newton gave an impromptu serenade of the Irish Lullaby, Too-Ra-Loo-a-Loo-Ra, Moseby now insists Newton recreate that poignant moment of reconciliation for him and the rest of the spectators. Very reluctantly, Newton complies, ironically, bringing tears of joy to George’s eyes. Gwen is heartbroken, and departs for the bus station.  

Having figured out Newton’s marriage to have been a colossal sham, Becky tries to get Newton to confess to as much. Annoyed by her smug superiority, Newton rebuffs the woman he once thought he could never live without and, leaving Becky jilted and confused, now dashes off to the bus station to prevent Gwen from exiting his life forever. Finding Gwen about to board, he pledges himself to her wholeheartedly. For a moment only, Gwen is not buying his newfound gesture of love. She wants a real marriage. No more make-believe. No more ‘bull’ peddled as sweet-smelling roses. Realizing Newton is promising her exactly what she wants – and needs – Gwen throws herself into his arms. The bus pulls out of station as bystanders observe the couple’s happiness. In the movie’s epilogue, we see Newton already begun construction on a small cottage on the adjacent property where Ralph and Mary – still set to play the part of Gwen’s parents – will reside from now on. Newton sweeps his newlywed bride off her feet; the two hurriedly departing for the bedroom where he learns Gwen’s real name is actually ‘Jessica’! Hooo-boy!

Housesitter is a pleasant little comedy gem with a soft-centered core of sentimentality that clicks as it should without every devolving into sugary-sweet saccharine. Martin and Hawn strike just the right chord to be believably fated to be mated by the final fade out. The laughs are genuine because they all hail from one thinly premised misdirection that snowballs into an avalanche of good clean humor, slickly packaged and done up in a bow as bright as the one Newton Davis tied around his dream house in the country. Incidentally, the house featured in the movie was real and built by New York architects, Trumbull & Associates. Ironically, it remains the singular aspect of the picture that has since severely dated. Even in 1992, I recall finding its bizarre construction, with a main area containing a kitchen, living room and staircase to nowhere, connected by an adjacent glass walkway to, what appeared to be a garage, but actually housed a bedroom/bathroom together in one room, oddly unappealing and totally impractical. Situated against the picturesque natural splendor of a meadow and lake, the house looks even more out of place – too experimental in its concept for its own aesthetic good.  

Interestingly, Housesitter received mixed reviews at the time of its theatrical release. It remains not very highly regarded by the critics - a sincere shame that most have overlooked the finely wrought comedic timing exhibited by both stars herein. Martin’s straight man is a hoot, allowing Hawn’s hilarious nut-bar to shine with a sort of giddy and devilish charm.  The picture’s humor is understated, rather than ‘in-your-face’. Personally, I prefer this. Subtlety is not ‘the thing’ for Millennials. They prefer the ‘sledgehammer’ approach to storytelling. So, perhaps, Housesitter appears antiquated by those (choke!) standards. However, placed within its proper context, Housesitter is a charmer and a triumph, exuberant, warm-hearted, and fantastically funny. She came. She saw. She moved in. And boy, did we find her misadventures a riot.

I could also mutiny over Universal’s newly minted Blu-ray – an inestimably slip-shod and sorrowfully undernourished 1080p transfer that, if I had to guess, is cribbing from digital files mastered for the 1994 Laserdisc release. Wow – is this disappointing! Universal Home Video has hardly had a stellar track record when it comes to preserving their cultural heritage. ‘Executive’ and ‘brain trust’ are two words that sincerely do not belong together when reassessing Universal’s asset management skills!  So, it will come as no surprise here that I cannot support such garbage being pumped onto disc, merely to make it available, without any thorough – even basic competent care – being paid to the overall results. Housesitter on Blu-ray is a careworn affair. Apart from age-related artifacts scattered throughout, this transfer is culled from a print – not, original camera negative. Colors are dated and there are even a few brief scenes that look faded. Flesh tones lean toward piggy pink. There is also severe color bleeding during the first few scenes. Overall, the image is soft, with a loss of fine detail. Contrast is a nightmare – weak, with no true blacks and shadow detail that is anemic at best. What an ugly mess this is! The 5.1 DTS is adequate, but just. Universal has removed their marketing tag-line of ‘Theater quality picture and sound’ from the back packaging of this disc. Apparently, someone at Uni was embarrassed enough by their shortsightedness, not even to try and pitch that claim with a straight face herein. Again, owing to Uni’s ‘quick n’ dirty’ approach to releasing movies to Blu-ray, there are NO extras – not even the original trailer that accompanied the DVD release – and no chapter stops. Personally, I will NOT be supporting Universal Home Video any more. They clearly have no invested interest in doing right by their catalog or their fans. Bottom line: Housesitter is a great ‘little’ comedy given utter short-shrift on Blu-ray. Pass and send your dissenting opinions about their lack of character and quality to Uni Home Video via their website. I know I sure as hell did!  Regrets.

FILM RATING (out of 5 – 5 being the best)

4

VIDEO/AUDIO

1

EXTRAS

0