With a tighter script, this could have been a classic - Rodriguez's flights of fancy are repeatedly, if I may say so under IMDb guidelines, beaten down by extended scenes of static exposition, implausible plot mechanics, and the dictates of genre. But THE FACULTY is still terrific - a proper horror with proper scares and restrained, justified self-referentiality; an excellent teen-pic centring on recurrent fears about conformity, independence, authority figures and sexual awakening.
Just because you keep referencing INVASION OF THE BODY SNATCHERS (love the switch to 'books', Kev!), doesn't mean you're not INVASION OF THE BODY SNATCHERS. For better or worse, society and cinema has become less political, so instead of panic about reds or McCarthy, we have more general fears (task-force modernisation etc.). But these are still valid. The thing about this conformity is that in a way it is collective, erasing class, racial and generational boundaries; it sees itself as a force for good, a way of making the alienated, the abused, the geeky fit in with the nice people. The film's whole conflict centres on a verbal pun, aliens versus the alienated. The conformity is only quelled when the disparate outsiders form a group, a sort of conformity in itself (it's no surprise that an ultra-conformist is the first to be revealed as bogus).
The film gives an alarming picture of life in American high schools, which doesn't seem that far-fetched to me now, having seem some documenataries exposing this metonymic environment. As you would expect, there is the usual, horribly violent, bullying of the clever; the cruel taunting of the different; the apotheosis and corruption-enabling of the football team. Even within this latter unit, there is rupture and doubt, as one star-player sees the system's fraud for what it is, sees how it makes a mockery of his own self-worth.
But the students aren't the only dissatisfied ones. The teachers are so disillusioned by the favouritism of the football gods at the expense of their own subjects, that they turn to drink, 'medication', arid sarcasm, and general indifference. This is perhaps an indictment of a system that fails its hypersmart kids, but we rarely get to see the teachers' side. So when the alien horrors begin, it's not just an allegory, like BODY SNATCHERS, for a cruel conformity that already exists, but shows up the failure of a certain kind of current conformity.
One could say that the film is just a catch-all expression of a certain, rather smug, alienated adolescent mindset; that the whole world is out to get you, from your peers, the girls you fancy, to teachers, parents, police. The profusion of narcotics strengthens this interpretation, the idea that all events are one big bad trip (there is a delightfully subversive subtext here which seems to contradict Richard Ashcroft). This would explain the lumping of every enemy figure together. The fundamental misogyny would be typical of teenage boys still at the episcopal-bashing stage. There are some excellent rites revealing tensions within the group, where the individualism of mistrust threatens to explode the resistance. But resistance to what? What is the coda bitterly suggesting?
What is most enjoyable about FACULTY is its rejection of current accepted horror practice, based on the slashers of the 80s, where the emphasis is very much on editing. There are, of course, some jolting cuts here (Rodriguez is, after all, the best editor in the business), but the best scenes are a result of careful compositon, striking, haunting images and an intelligent use of space (the almost army-camp restriction to campus reminds one of Ferrera's BODY SNATCHERS), which owes more to the Universal horrors of the 1930s, the B-movies of the 1950s and Romero's allegories - the LIVING DEAD-like scenes of faceless mob attack are truly frightening yet very funny.
Just because you keep referencing INVASION OF THE BODY SNATCHERS (love the switch to 'books', Kev!), doesn't mean you're not INVASION OF THE BODY SNATCHERS. For better or worse, society and cinema has become less political, so instead of panic about reds or McCarthy, we have more general fears (task-force modernisation etc.). But these are still valid. The thing about this conformity is that in a way it is collective, erasing class, racial and generational boundaries; it sees itself as a force for good, a way of making the alienated, the abused, the geeky fit in with the nice people. The film's whole conflict centres on a verbal pun, aliens versus the alienated. The conformity is only quelled when the disparate outsiders form a group, a sort of conformity in itself (it's no surprise that an ultra-conformist is the first to be revealed as bogus).
The film gives an alarming picture of life in American high schools, which doesn't seem that far-fetched to me now, having seem some documenataries exposing this metonymic environment. As you would expect, there is the usual, horribly violent, bullying of the clever; the cruel taunting of the different; the apotheosis and corruption-enabling of the football team. Even within this latter unit, there is rupture and doubt, as one star-player sees the system's fraud for what it is, sees how it makes a mockery of his own self-worth.
But the students aren't the only dissatisfied ones. The teachers are so disillusioned by the favouritism of the football gods at the expense of their own subjects, that they turn to drink, 'medication', arid sarcasm, and general indifference. This is perhaps an indictment of a system that fails its hypersmart kids, but we rarely get to see the teachers' side. So when the alien horrors begin, it's not just an allegory, like BODY SNATCHERS, for a cruel conformity that already exists, but shows up the failure of a certain kind of current conformity.
One could say that the film is just a catch-all expression of a certain, rather smug, alienated adolescent mindset; that the whole world is out to get you, from your peers, the girls you fancy, to teachers, parents, police. The profusion of narcotics strengthens this interpretation, the idea that all events are one big bad trip (there is a delightfully subversive subtext here which seems to contradict Richard Ashcroft). This would explain the lumping of every enemy figure together. The fundamental misogyny would be typical of teenage boys still at the episcopal-bashing stage. There are some excellent rites revealing tensions within the group, where the individualism of mistrust threatens to explode the resistance. But resistance to what? What is the coda bitterly suggesting?
What is most enjoyable about FACULTY is its rejection of current accepted horror practice, based on the slashers of the 80s, where the emphasis is very much on editing. There are, of course, some jolting cuts here (Rodriguez is, after all, the best editor in the business), but the best scenes are a result of careful compositon, striking, haunting images and an intelligent use of space (the almost army-camp restriction to campus reminds one of Ferrera's BODY SNATCHERS), which owes more to the Universal horrors of the 1930s, the B-movies of the 1950s and Romero's allegories - the LIVING DEAD-like scenes of faceless mob attack are truly frightening yet very funny.