The Hoya: The Guide: October 10, 2025

Laughter Is Medicine, Proof Is In Spoofs

Grace Ko and Tanvi Gorripati Senior Guide Editors

“Every single hour in Hollywood, a comedy script is rejected.” The phrase begins a solemn advert for “The Naked Gun,” a remake of the classic 1988 comedy film of the same name, and is an apt warning in the current comedy-less state of Hollywood. With the rise of both streaming and blockbuster films, comedies have slowly disappeared in the middle. A once classic staple of the late 1990s and early 2000s, the genre has been relegated to quick drops on Netflix rather than theatrical runs. Comedy has become fused with other genres such as thrillers and superhero films, so much so that films driven by pure comedy are rare to come by. Until “The Naked Gun” made a hearty return.

For the Guide’s special issue this semester, we’ve chosen to focus on the dying art of comedy films, particularly that of the “spoof.” Our choice is inspired by the recent resurgence of spoofs spurred by the release of the “The Naked Gun.”

Wait — what exactly is a “spoof”? A more intense version of a parody, a “spoof” is a type of comedic film that uses the plot and character tropes of various genres as its comedic source. It relies on the audience’s prior knowledge of genre conventions, taking those expectations and turning them up to the max. A successful spoof depends on a shared cultural lexicon. Audiences must know what is being imitated in order to appreciate how it is being distorted. The fun lies in the tension between repetition and deviation; the joke lands because we both remember the original and appreciate the spoof’s absurdity in pushing the original to the extreme. Spoof films became a sort of barometer for media literacy. To understand a spoof is to be a part of the in-group, to demonstrate one’s knowledge of pop culture.

One of the key reasons spoofs have declined recently is the fragmentation of audiences and the fall of the collective cinematic consciousness. For much of cinematic history, audiences shared large parts of their viewing histories. “Jaws,” “Star Wars” and

“Titanic” were more than just box-office successes; they were cultural phenomena. Spoofing these films worked because the reference points were universal. In the streaming era, however, media consumption has become highly personalized. Algorithms sort viewers into hyperspecific niches and even international blockbusters fade from attention within a couple of weeks. You would be hard-pressed to find even one other person who shares your recently watched list. Without that common foundation, contemporary spoofs find themselves struggling to find targets that appeal to a broader audience.

Equally damaging to the genre was its self-inflicted decline in the early 2000s. Following the success of “Scary Movie” in 2000, the industry flooded the market with low-budget, reference-driven imitations including “Date Movie” in 2006, “Epic Movie” in 2007 and “Disaster Movie” in 2008. These movies relied less on wit and more on recognition, stringing together fleetingly viral pop culture moments with little narrative or satirical coherence. Rather than creating humor by intelligently poking

ILLUSTRATION BY ROHINI

KUDVA/ THE HOYA

Hands up, feet down, spoofs are back! Senior editors Tanvi

fun at the genre they were parodying, they treated spoof like a checklist of citations, believing the more they included, the funnier the movie was. The result was fatigue, both critically and commercially, and a widespread belief that the genre had become lazy and even embarrassing. This oversaturation coincided with a decline in what could be considered cultural attentiveness. A spoof requires not just an audience that knows its source material, but one that thinks critically about it. Yet in an age of endless doomscrolling and algorithmic content, sustained attention is rare. Audiences encounter culture as mere fragments, clips and references shared without any context. Ironically, social media today is filled with parody; however, this parody takes a different form. It is bite-sized and meant to be consumed immediately. The spoof film, which requires us to remember, reflect and compare, almost feels too slow for today’s media landscape.

This is not to say parody has ceased to exist altogether; it has simply evolved and changed forms. With movies like “Thor: Ragnarok” and “Barbie,” filmmakers like Taika Waititi and Greta Gerwig have injected the self-awareness and meta-humor of the spoof into mainstream storytelling. These films function both as serious movies with authentic overarching themes while simultaneously poking fun at their own genre. The job of the spoof is being done by the very films it would have mocked, blurring the lines between parody and mainstream. Still, something has been lost. The classic spoof joined audiences together to laugh at shared stories. It was a genre that celebrated cinema by mocking it. To laugh at these films was, in a way, to love the films that inspired them.

In a time when it’s getting harder to laugh, it’s essential to continue to create these theatrical experiences aimed at bringing audiences together to laugh. While simple in nature, comedies become our comfort watches. It’s comedies that bring us together in a shared language of jokes and funny references. It’s comedies that connect us. Sure, the death of comedy is not exactly a life-altering disaster, but it’s important to hold onto the power of laughter and the ways a simple smile could change our day.

ILLUSTRATION BY ARIA ZHU / THE HOYA

In her quest to examine “Monty Python and the Holy

‘Monty Python and the Holy Grail’ Represents Timeless Absurdity in its Journey to Deliver Iconic Comedy

Isabelle Cialone

Deputy Guide Editor

“Monty Python and the Holy Grail” is a blast from start to finish — even before Arthur, King of the Britons (Graham Chapman) embarks on his legendary quest to seek the Holy Grail. As early as the opening credits, an entire meta saga unfolds in the captions and on-screen graphics wherein the movie breaks the fourth wall and acknowledges its nature as fiction. The film repeatedly breaks the fourth wall, which only amps up the complete absurdity of its plot.

A parodic retelling of the Arthurian legend, “Monty Python and the Holy Grail” is narrated by Michael Palin, one of the six members of the British comedy troupe Monty Python. It follows King Arthur as he recruits his fabled Knights of the Round Table: Sir Bedivere the Wise (Terry Jones), Sir Lancelot the Brave (John Cleese), Sir Galahad the Pure (also played by Palin) and Sir Robin the NotQuite-So-Brave-As-Sir-Lancelot (Eric Idle).

As King Arthur “trots” about on his coconut “horse,” he encounters scenes of sheer absurdity: among them, a revoltingly feculent English town where the dead are hauled out in carts (bring out your dead!) and an unusually intellectual peasant, Dennis (also played by Palin).

Dennis’s anarcho-syndicalism and critique of imperial dogma and exploitation are completely unfitting for the time (932 A.D.), but painfully hilarious and, despite the film celebrating its 50th anniversary this year, strikingly relevant. Such anachronism is central to the film; beyond the humor of mixing illogical “knowledge” befitting of the time with science that isn’t discovered for centuries to come, two timelines converge as a historian is brutally murdered by a knight on horseback. The film’s subversive and experimental nature is what anchors it as unparalleled in both its comedic and filmic value.

The knights’ nonsensical quest commences when the motley crew sees a vision of God commanding them to seek the Holy Grail. As they search for the Grail both

individually and as a group, they face increasingly ridiculous obstacles. The knights venture to various castles, encountering a French guard who has mastered the art of nasty taunting and whose weapon of choice is — naturally — airborne livestock, a three-headed knight, a perilously tempting convent of young women and the infamous Knights of Ni, who demand that Arthur’s knights deliver them a shrubbery.

While every additional nonsensical plot point is hilarious and rife with quotable bits, my favorite scenes are the musical numbers. Sir Robin is constantly serenaded by his minstrels with a song lauding his cowardice when facing increasingly gruesome threats. However, the comedic value of that song only pales in comparison to the Camelot Song, which might just be the best part of the movie with its chaotic choreography, frantic cinematography and absurdly self-aware lines.

The film is also carried by its actors and their delivery of the absurd script — even

when bits drag on too long, the actors’ sheer amusement prevails with moments where their battle to hold back laughter is visible, such as the early witch scene. Some of the animated elements drag on as well, but the medieval art style is captivating, and, of course, the ridiculous action continues even in the animation.

The film’s sets and costuming are also commendable. Despite the absurdity of the story itself, the ambiance truly feels medieval, and even Camelot, which the knights acknowledge to be a model in another fourth-wall break, looks accurate.

Overall, the film is an impressive feat — the humor is endless, not only in its abundantly hilarious script, but also through its ridiculous converging plotlines, intermittent animated sequences and fantastic musical numbers. Of course, it’s best watched with a crowd (or parent) to deliver every line in unison with the cast, but even alone, you’re guaranteed to get a kick out of it. It solidly earns a five (not three, sir) star rating.

‘Airplane!’: A Large Metal Tube Flying Trough Te Sky to Create a Chaotic All-Time Classic

Mauro Mazzariello

Some movies are so jam-packed with memorable lines that they seem to transcend their meager runtimes and enter the cultural canon. The ability to start telling a joke from your favorite movie, only for someone you just met to finish the line, is an unparalleled joy (and a great way to find people you actually want as your friends).

David and Jerry Zucker and Jim Abrahams’ “Airplane!” flew into the spoof movie zeitgeist in 1980 with enough raunchy humor, gags and truly absurd lines to make a nun blush. Sure, there might be some other truly hilarious spoof movies like “Tropic Thunder,” “The Other Guys” and “Spaceballs” (this is not debatable — these are some of the best movies ever made. Take that, Citizen

Kane!), but nothing beats the movie that did it first and best. So fasten your seat belt, relax and just remember — don’t order the fish!

“Airplane!” begins as all great fictional love stories (and real-life nightmares) do: at Los Angeles International Airport (LAX). Ted Striker (Robert Hays) abandons his taxi to run across the terminals in an effort to convince his ex-girlfriend and stewardess, Elaine Dickinson (Julie Hagerty), to stay with him — this is back when you could smoke on planes and your shoes never had to come off at security. Elaine refuses, saying she’s leaving him for good when she returns from the flight. In a last-ditch effort, Striker, a traumatized veteran and former pilot, boards the plane in the hopes of winning Elaine over. But disaster looms as some poorly cooked fish reminds everyone why no one raves about airplane food. The fish leaves both the

pilots and half the plane with a healthy bout of food poisoning. Stranded in the sky with no one to fly (thanks, Kareem Abdul-Jabbar, for barely working!), Ted is forced to face his fears and land the plane himself.

Now, you might find yourself reading this and thinking, “Huh, this sounds like a serious movie. And what is a zeitgeist? This guy sounds insufferable,” to which I’d inform you that “Airplane!” is based on the much more serious 1957 movie “Zero Hour!” — and pick up a dictionary, why don’t you! The entirety of “Airplane!” is one big “Zero Hour!” gag, taking its fundamental plot and riddling its body full of the naughtiest and most absurd jokes you could possibly think of.

Before the release of “Airplane!,” Lloyd Bridges — father of the Dude himself, and my aunt’s ideal man, Jeff Bridges — and Leslie Nielsen were two actors who were typecast as

Is that a bird –– no, it’s an airplane!

serious men of action, à la Humphrey Bogart (and yes, I really did just say ‘à la’). Afterwards, Nielsen would become known not for his serious roles but for “Surely, you can’t be serious? ... I am serious, and don’t call me Shirley.” The movie features some true heavyweights — don’t tell Kareem Abdul-Jabbar he only hustled in the post-season — delivering some of the most memorable lines with a degree of seriousness that is downright admirable. I’ve chosen to leave this review purposefully vague — it’s not just because I have midterms to study for, I swear — because any attempt at trying to encapsulate the humor of this movie would be as futile and roundabout as what I imagine a conversation with an in-character Nielsen would be. How do you sum up a movie that starts with two P.A. announcers fighting over the intercom at the airport, the inflatable autopilot Otto (I only understood this one after I was 14), the absolute beatdown that Rex Kramer (Robert Stack) gives to a bunch of shriners and everything in between?

I might be a little biased, as I’ve been quoting this movie since I was around eight — now that I think about it, it’s a miracle I wasn’t sent to the principal’s office — but this movie is the spoof to end all spoofs. Some of the jokes might fly over the heads of the culturally unaware; even I only just learned about “Win it for the Gipper!,” but there is no denying the pure comedy gold embedded in every fiber of this movie. Even when you think they couldn’t possibly make a joke out of something, a gag is right around the corner. So do yourself a favor, be cool and watch this movie; everyone’s doing it! The next time someone asks how you take your coffee, you’ll have the perfect reply for them.

Te Original ‘Naked Gun’ Is Still a Ridiculous All-Timer

Eliana Kut Hoya Staff Writer

It has been 37 years since the 1988 release of “The Naked Gun: From the Files of Police Squad!”, yet its bawdy, slapstick and tonguein-cheek humor stands the test of time. The spoof is centered around the comedic genius of Leslie Nielsen as his character, Lieutenant Frank Drebin of Police Squad, uncovers a plot to assassinate Queen Elizabeth II (Jeannette Charles). Drebin’s attempts to thwart the assassination are filled with ridiculous scenarios and memorable moments.

The movie begins with Lt. Drebin foiling the schemes of former U.S. political enemies (including Amin, Khomeini and Gorbachev) in Beirut. As he returns home, he must investigate the attempted murder of his fellow officer Nordberg (O.J. Simpson) who was shot investigating criminal dealings on a ship owned by Vincent Ludwig (Ricardo Montalbán), a wealthy businessman. Once realizing that Drebin knows more about his criminal connections than he should, Ludwig asks his assistant Jane (Priscilla Presley) to falsely befriend Drebin and determine if he is a threat. As the Police Squad is asked to act as security for Queen Elizabeth II’s upcoming visit, Ludwig commences a plan to assassinate the Queen using hypnosis.

Unfortunately, after attempting to save the Queen from what he believed to be a shooting, Drebin is fired. Learning that the assasination attempt on the queen will happen during a baseball game at Anaheim’s Angel Stadium, Drebin unsuccessfully attempts to frisk every player during the game, missing Reggie Jackson (played by himself), the hypnotized

MUSIC

assassin. The entire scene is one of the most iconic in comedy history, and balances both hilarity and suspense. After failing to hit the Queen, Jackson is crushed by a woman tranquilized by Drebin, saving the Queen’s life. Ludwig also falls off the side of the stadium, triggering his hypnosis beeper and activating Jane as a killer. Drebin, however, is able to disarm her by professing his love and proposing to her. While the ending can seem nonsensical and overly ridiculous, I found it to contain the perfect amount of spontaneity while making a final return to a recurring gag.

“Naked Gun” is a fantastic spoof on traditional detective and James Bond-esque dramas. It is fully aware of how ridiculous it is and capitalizes on its own humor. Whether it is through the over-dramatization of physical comedy or hilarious innuendos, “Naked Gun” proves itself to be a classic and timeless comedy. The satirical nature of the film is exemplified in a quote from Drebin after he is fired from the Squad: “Just think, the next time I shoot someone, I could be arrested!” Quotes of similar nature kept me laughing throughout the entire film. There is genuinely never a dull moment in the witty screenplay by David Zucker, Jim Abrahams and Jerry Zucker, the creative trio behind the genius of “Airplane!,” “Top Secret!,” and part of the writing teams for “Scary Movie 3” and “Scary Movie 4.” Their signature comedic style shines bright in the endless amounts of slapstick comedy and running gags. I found humor in “Naked Gun” everywhere I looked, and I genuinely feel as if there is something for everyone to laugh at.

The use of constant misunderstandings between nearly every character contributes to

the film’s consistent pacing and hilarity. As is to be expected of a spoof, however, there is no dimensionality to the characters, with the movie choosing to portray them as the caricatures each actor represents. Drebin is the traditional hard-boiled detective with a troubled past, while Jane is the stereotypical Bond-girl-esque love interest with little personality except for being a pawn in the villain’s schemes. However, the actors’ effective use of comedy, through Nielsen’s deadpan deliveries and Presley’s unexpected comedic timing, do a lot to elevate their characters into unforgettable ones. In fact, “Naked Gun” succeeded in launching a long-lived

film series, with “The Naked Gun 2 ½: The Smell of Fear” (1991), “Naked Gun 33 1/3: The Final Insult” (1994) and “The Naked Gun” (2025) also becoming classics in the highly influential franchise. Overall, I found “The Naked Gun: From the Files of Police Squad!” to be a goofy but unforgettable parody with hilarious and effective gags all the way through. Whether you are looking to watch one of the spoof genre’s foundational movies or for a fun and easy latenight watch, I would highly recommend “The Naked Gun.” Its timeless plot and nearly spotless execution make it a resonating movie today and one that will stay a classic for years to come.

Te Tumultuous Rise, Eventual Fall of Weird Al Yankovic

Tanvi Gorripati Senior Guide Editor

It is hard to think of parody music without one name coming to the forefront of your mind: Weird Al. With his frizzy hair, loud shirts and always-present accordion, Alfred “Weird Al” Yankovic made it his life mission to poke fun at some of the biggest songs in pop history. His career began with recording a parody of “My Sharona” by The Knack in a bathroom stall and somehow evolved into four decades of Grammy Awards wins, platinum albums and cultural relevance. Weird Al is so synonymous with parody that he appears in all of the “Naked Gun” films. He was definitely never the coolest guy in the room, but that was part of his charm. Weird Al was cool because he never tried to be.

Weird Al didn’t just parody hit songs; he parodied the idea of fame itself. “Eat It” turned Michael Jackson’s boasting anthem into a joke about gluttony. “Like a Surgeon” reimagined sex symbol Madonna as a clumsy medical intern. “Amish Paradise” mocked Coolio’s

gravitas while remaining oddly affectionate. Weird Al’s music videos played a huge role in the humor, mirroring MTV’s aesthetic with shot-for-shot recreations with a twist. However, his work wasn’t centered around criticism or cruelty, but joy. The punchline was never that the songs he was parodying were dumb, but rather that the hilarity lay in how much people loved the original music.

In a way, Weird Al’s career charted the rise of parody as a mainstream art form. The 1980s and 1990s were the perfect conditions for him to thrive. MTV provided a collective stage for music videos, radio rotation meant that everyone knew the same 10 songs and pop stars took themselves seriously enough to be mocked. Weird Al became a fixture of the cultural consciousness because everyone got the joke. That kind of shared context doesn’t really exist anymore. As music has splintered, parody has lost its foundation. Weird Al’s last major hit, “White & Nerdy,” came out in 2006, a parody of Chamillionaire’s “Ridin.” That song worked because everyone had heard the original. His latest albums, like “Mandatory

Fun,” are still sharp, but they didn’t resonate with the broader audience — not because they were artistically lacking — but because culture has become too fragmented for everyone to get the joke at the same time. The internet also changed the pace of humor. Weird Al’s parodies were deliberate. They took time to write, record and produce. In the age of social media, parody is instant. A song can go viral and be parodied into oblivion in the blink of an eye. Everyone has the opportunity to be a Weird Al, but this has diluted the art form. When everyone is making a different joke, there is no longer a single punchline that unites us in laughter.

Weird Al’s humor depended on clear intention. It was obvious what was funny and why it was funny. More importantly, his music was always meant to be taken as a joke. Its appeal stemmed from a shared understanding that the songs were not to be taken seriously. However, the more recent laughed-at viral songs blur the line between sincere emotional expression and accidental comedy. Tracks like “Be Happy” by Dixie or

“Karma” by JoJo Siwa became subjects of amusement not because they were meant to be funny but because their earnest tone and lack of lyrical depth clashed with audience expectations. The key difference between these newer viral songs and traditional parody music lies in intention.

If Weird Al feels like the last standing parody musician, it isn’t because no one is funny anymore. It is because the kind of cultural moment that made his mass success possible doesn’t really exist anymore. His songs thrived in an era of shared reference and patient irony. The humor that once solely belonged to a single accordion-wielding nerd has dissolved into the collective noise of the internet, where everyone can join in on the fun.

And maybe that’s the real lesson. Weird Al spent his whole career teaching us to laugh at the things we love. Now, we have learned that lesson a little too well and we no longer need him to be the vehicle of our laughter. Weird Al’s brand of parody music didn’t die; it just eventually outgrew him.

‘Spaceballs’: In Space, You Can’t Hear Character Development

Juan Almanza Hoya Staff Writer

If there is one parody movie that has cemented itself as a cult classic within the genre, it’s “Spaceballs.” Riffing off “Star Wars” and utilizing every parody comedy trick in the book, “Spaceballs” proves itself to be a hilarious time, but unfortunately, that’s where my praise starts and ends. The film makes the same misstep many parodies do, leaning too much into playful mockery, resulting in awfully flat characters.

“Spaceballs,” in essence, is all of the original “Star Wars” trilogy rolled into one witty parody. The movie kicks off with a classic sci-fi shot as the Spaceballs’ ship looms over the camera. And then keeps looming. And keeps looming some more. In fact, the entire ship passes by during this shot, only to reveal a bumper sticker reading “We brake for nobody.” Suffice to say, it’s a hilarious payoff and a strong way to show what type of movie “Spaceballs” is. Its lead antagonist, Darth Helmet — played masterfully by Rick Moranis — has the build of a Darth Vader bobblehead and steals the show in every one of his appearances. From scenes centered on the stretches of his ship to the desert moon, his comically large hats gave me a giggle every time his character struggled to balance them.

Our lead protagonist Lone Starr (Bill Pullman), a space bandit who seems to be Luke Skywalker and Han Solo rolled into one, is in some deep debt with space lord Pizza the Hutt (Dom DeLuise), a riff on Jabba the Hutt. Despite only having mere minutes of screentime, Pizza the Hutt displays a surprising amount of care that went into the production of this movie. The costume worn in the film was

FILM

made from real pizza toppings and food, resulting in the most visually unsettling and gross movie villain I’ve ever seen. It gave me a truly nauseous feeling, to say the least. The crew’s passion for the film is palpable through its impressive production.

The movie soars through its plotline with ease as Lone Starr journeys to rescue a space princess in order to pay off his debt. From iconic one-liners (“I’m a Mog, half man, half dog. I’m my own best friend!”), to gags (The ship’s radar becomes “jammed” with literal raspberry jam) and countless innuendos (“I bet she gives great helmet!”), to some goofy fourth wall breaks (Darth Helmet spitting out his coffee onto the camera), the movie proves itself to be decently funny.

Considering the galactic cultural impact of the “Star Wars” movies, “Spaceballs” pokes fun at it a good amount, albeit with the consequence of many jokes not fully landing. Its funniest jab comes when Yogurt, a riff on Yoda, reveals the true power of the “Schwartz” — merchandising. What follows is what can only be described as a television ad spot for various pieces of inuniverse “Spaceballs” merchandise, including Spaceball lunchboxes, blankets and the action figures Darth Helmet loves to play with so much. “Spaceballs,” however, falls into a common pitfall of the spoof genre, leaning too much into its satire and sacrificing character depth. There’s a moment in the movie where Lone Starr and Princess Vespa (Daphne Zuniga) are talking about their pasts and how their pasts have affected their view of love. In retrospect, I see now that the “emotional” scene was only a setup for a “virginity alert” joke, but it felt unfulfilling, not funny, when the moment was ripped away in such a manner.

Other parody movies, such as “Hot Fuzz” or “Naked Gun,” balance their satire with killer action or perfectly crafted comedy, whereas “Spaceballs” has to rely on recognition of “Star Wars” for its kick. The humor kills most of the time, but beyond the funny factor, the film doesn’t have much to offer. To be fair, that might be an unfair critique, considering the film is not meant to be taken seriously in the first place, but “Star Wars” succeeds as a space opera partially for its emotional appeal. I see no reason why “Spaceballs” could not have done similarly. Regardless, “Spaceballs” is still funny — there is no doubt there. Its jokes, while perhaps aged, still made me laugh. To that end, “Star Wars” provides a plethora of ideas to satirize as the cornerstone space opera.

Zuniga’s performance as Princess Vespa is a great example of this, as Vespa’s constant complaining about the dirtiness of Lone Starr’s space RV in light of her kidnapping mere scenes ago feels reminiscent of Princess Leia (Carrie Fisher) from the original movie. Additionally, Princess Vespa’s side buns are eventually revealed to be headphones, which, in my opinion, is the funniest gag in the entire movie. In the conversation of parody movies, “Spaceballs” is a standout, and for good reason. It’s a cult classic with its sharp humor and wellcrafted production and does a good job of standing as a parody of the “Star Wars” franchise. While admittedly lacking any sort of punch outside of its jokes, it’s wholly entertaining and simply a fun time.

Te Unique, Quirky, Witty Undead Rise in ‘Shaun of the Dead’

Grace Ko

Senior Guide Editor

The movie to consolidate all zombie movies, “Shaun of the Dead” is a comedy classic from the early 2000s. The beginning of an unofficial trilogy, dubbed the “Three Flavors Cornetto Trilogy” due to the appearance of the Cornetto ice cream in all three films, “Shaun of the Dead” effectively both spoofed and redefined the zombie genre with its brand of uniquely quirky wit.

Directed by Edgar Wright, “Shaun of the Dead” centers around Shaun (Simon Pegg), a sorely uninspired man whose lack of desire — for anything other than to relive his younger years with his childish friend Ed (Nick Frost) — leaves him stuck in life. Working as a deadbeat salesman, Shaun watches his life fall into disarray when a zombie apocalypse descends upon London, forcing Shaun to man up or get bitten. Wright’s dynamic style colors the entire film in a fast-paced frenzy. The many quick cuts drive the film’s comedy, such as during Ed and Shaun’s brainstorming sequence, in which they try to form a plan to save themselves and their loved ones from the apocalypse. In short scenes that smash into each other, we feel the two characters get in-

creasingly excited about their plan. With every little edit or change they make, the montage plays again with the newly formed ideas. However, some things don’t ever change, like the pure joy that Barbara, played by a sweetly hilarious Penelope Wilton, places into her every skip as she escapes with Shaun and Ed in their idealized plans. There are so many moments of pure playfulness in the film’s delivery that make “Shaun of the Dead” so memorable. Whether it be hitting zombies in tune with “Don’t Stop Me Now” by Queen, watching a long take where Shaun ignores all the bloody signs of a zombie apocalypse or the baffling ending in which Yvonne (Jessica Hynes) — Shaun’s friend and the leader of the more competent version of Shaun and his crew — busts in with the might of hundreds of tanks behind her, “Shaun of the Dead” is wonderfully delightful to watch.

The zombies of “Shaun of the Dead” are an interesting force themselves. Zombies are either relegated to stupidity or an overwhelming force of horror (“Train to Busan” has scarred me — never test a Korean zombie), but “Shaun of the Dead” manages to strike a great balance between the two. Its zombies are stupidly funny in the way they drone, groan and wander in endless bouts of desire for brains; however, once they sense a hu-

man, there has been no other terrifying creature. They’re brainless until you see them descend upon their targets in a flash mob of gore.

The greatest strength of the film is the balance that it manages to strike between genres. Operating as a horror, comedy, romance and drama, the film is as packed as the constant switching shots that Wright puts to use in his storytelling. Yet, the film never feels overstuffed or out of its depth — it’s quite efficient in its delivery of both jokes and drama.

This efficiency, however, doesn’t mean the film fails to put effort into its characters. Even the shorter character and relationship arcs that fill its runtime, such as that of Shaun and his stepdad Philip (Bill Nighy), are emotionally weighted and impactful. We only see Philip in short increments at the beginning of the film, enough to establish Shaun’s obvious disdain for him. In the whirlwind of action that follows their rescuing of Barbara, we realize that Philip has been bitten. In his last words, he reconnects with Shaun, making his death heartbreaking as the hope for Shaun to fully be part of the family with no inhibitions or grudges is immediately taken away as Philip dies. “Shaun of the Dead” delivers its heart in packed punches, much in tune with the film’s vibrant energy.

However, it is the film’s central trio that really makes “Shaun of the Dead” the charming story that it is. Pegg is as perfect as the scrappy Shaun, both empty-headed and brave in his endeavors. There’s a genuine care in his attempts to change himself that helps us understand why Liz (Kate Ashfield) loves him despite his buffoonery and often selfish choices. Ashfield is a captivating crush in the film, the audience’s foothold into the madness. Liz is someone you root for throughout the entirety of the film, thanks to Ashfield’s sweet charm. As always, the third wheel is the most dynamic and it’s no less true for Frost’s Ed, a man-child who would always stick by Shaun, for better or worse, even when the world is falling apart. The push and pull Shaun has with both Ed and Liz makes up for the film’s biggest compelling and heartwarming storyline.

While an undeniable comedy classic, “Shaun of the Dead” is unique to the zombie genre for its equal investment in horror as well as heart. It shows how it’s the bonds you have and the inner discoveries you make that matter at the end of the day. Yet, even within that everlasting battle to change, sometimes you have to hold onto your past, even if it’s your undead best friend, trapped in your shed, who you’ll play video games with forever.

‘Not Another Teen Movie’ Is Just Another Teen Movie

Penelope Snoep Hoya Staff Writer

“Not Another Teen Movie,” despite its title, is, well, a teen movie. Most ’90s teen movies put characters into traditional cliques, follow cookie-cutter plot lines and play into common tropes. “Not Another Teen Movie,” released in 2001, does just this — but it acknowledges the fact that it’s following cliches and shamelessly mocks ’80s and ’90s rom-coms, making it a spoof. Yes, the high school jock, Jake Wyler (Chris Evans) makes a bet that he’ll take the nerdy girl, Janey Briggs (Chyler Leigh), to prom and make her the prom queen. But nothing goes exactly as viewers expect it to, and the obvious humor, overly exaggerated characters and absurd plot lines make for a quick moving film that prompts easy laughter.

Obviously, “Not Another Teen Movie” is meant to make you laugh, but its wittiness is precisely what makes it great. For avid watchers of traditional teen rom-coms, the movie is full of easter eggs.

For starters, Janey is somewhat of a play on Kat Stratford, the main character of “10 Things I Hate About You.” She fits into the nerdy, anti-men, angry artist, glasses-wearing female trope. The “10 Things I Hate About You” references don’t stop there — Ricky Lipman (Eric Jungmann), a nerdy guy in love with Janey, stands up in front of their English class to recite a poem, which he calls “10 Things I Love About Janey,” an obvious spin on Stratford’s English poem from the original film. Jake sings a song to Janey while running through the stands of the football field as he

tries to gain her admiration, just like Patrick Verona in “10 Things I Hate About You.”

There are also clear references to “The Breakfast Club,” with a detention scene that features the film’s classic song, “Don’t You (Forget About Me)” by Simple Minds. Additionally, the film features references to “Sixteen Candles,” “She’s All That,” “Grease,” “Bring it On,” “Ferris Bueller’s Day Off” and many more classic rom-coms and teen comedies. The ending is full of back-to-back intentional references, amplifying the film’s reference-ladled landscape.

Personally, I loved this rom-com easter egg hunt. I loved matching actors in “Not Another Teen Movie” with other actors I knew and laughing at overexaggerations of familiar characters. However, this was possibly my only favorite part of watching the movie. “Not Another Teen Movie” is definitely not highbrow cinema, but the film takes its unsophisticated nature to another level. The humor is pretty vulgar (don’t watch it in a public place), and the plot is a little stupid. Yet, I suppose it’s meant to be that way — ridiculous and utterly absurd. You’re meant to cringe, laugh and even question why you’re watching it. I definitely cringed a bit too hard at points. Many of the jokes felt overly sexual — past the point of humor — or just kind of gross. Maybe spoofs aren’t entirely for me.

On the other hand, though, the overexaggerations of stereotypes in “Not Another Teen Movie” are actually what have allowed it to hold up over time. Many teen romcoms, like “The Breakfast Club” or “Sixteen Candles” have characters now regarded to be culturally insensitive, due to their portrayal

of racist and misogynistic stereotypes. “Not Another Teen Movie” identifies these problematic characters and intentionally plays into them, creating the movie to be a selfaware commentary. For example, Malik Token (Deon Richmond) represents the “token Black guy” character. Early in the film, when asked to hold Jake’s books, he says, “Sure, why not? I am the token Black guy. I’m just supposed to smile and stay out of the conversation and say things like, ‘Damn,’ ‘Shit,’ and ‘That’s whack.’” A little later, further playing into the trope, Malik responds to his friends’ analysis of girls

by saying, “Damn! That shit’s whack!” While this is obviously also for comedic relief, it suggests that “Not Another Teen Movie” does, in fact, have a deeper motive. So, do we gravitate towards spoofs like “Not Another Teen Movie” because we like the references to the source material? Or is it for easy laughs? Or maybe, as we appreciate their absolute absurdity, do we use spoofs as a means of escapism from traditional cinema and the world around us? Either way, you’ll certainly find one of the three satisfied with “Not Another Teen Movie.”

‘Scary Movie’ Is Not Scary, Not Funny, Not a Super Slasher

Isabelle Cialone Deputy Guide Editor

“Scary Movie” is one of those movies that you love in your childhood, then return to 15 years later and realize it’s not the masterpiece you once thought it was. A totally unnecessary selfaware spin on the already self-aware slasher “Scream,” “Scary Movie” follows a very similar concept in plot and meta-commentary. However, where “Scream” satirizes the horror genre while remaining scary, “Scary Movie” over-exaggerates every horror trope for comedic effect — its only fear factor is in its abundant jump scares.

The movie opens with teenager Drew Decker (Carmen Electra) receiving a threatening call from a male voice that turns out to belong to a Ghostface poser who chases Decker outside. There, she meets her untimely demise when her father runs her over with his car, distracted by his wife administering oral sex — this is only the first of many raunchy scenes that unexpectedly dominate this “horror” movie. The next day, a group of high school friends realizes that Decker was killed exactly a year

after they accidentally murdered a man. They start receiving threats and seeing Ghostface, who slowly comes after them all.

While the plot is just an uninspired regurgitation of “Scream,” the comedic exaggerations render each plot point flimsy. There is no consistent throughline linking any of the ridiculous events. Instead, each increasingly absurd scene is arbitrarily followed by another implausible and unrelated occurrence. But the movie’s appeal doesn’t lie in its cinematic value. It’s not meant to be a masterpiece of film; it’s meant to be enjoyable, even exciting, for horror movie buffs — so, while it did not always work for me personally, it was still fun. Much of my enjoyment was rooted in nostalgia, though there are some genuinely funny moments.

The script infuses the villainous Ghostface, taken straight out of “Scream,” with a hilarious self-consciousness. One of the funniest scenes is when Ghostface calls Cindy (Anna Ferris), and she immediately finds him in the house behind the couch. She then turns around and waits as he first scrambles under the rug before, realizing that’s stupid, he half-conceals himself behind

the curtains. Later, in another great moment, he crashes a smoke sesh with Shorty (Marlon Wayans) and his friends and ultimately joins in the fun. Of course, the second the high wears off, he immediately slashes away at the group.

Moments like these are hilarious; they subvert classical horror movie scenes and the characters are funny. Much of the successful humor comes in its meta-commentary: It points out the sheer absurdity in horror movie protagonists’ reactions to their circumstances, with characters even defying death to ridicule the way horror movies often handle murder.

But much of the film’s comedy also relies on problematic stereotypes. Its depiction of disability with Special Officer Doofy (Dave Sheridan), a spoof of the bumbling Dewey Riley in “Scream,” is quite disrespectful and the movie often tries to be humorous at his expense. Similarly, the writing poorly frames questions of gender and sexuality, and there are a number of homophobic jokes.

Many of the characters act highly stereotypically in terms of race and gender. Is it merely a selfaware satire of the stereotypes that pervade popular media, or is it just further promulgating

those very stereotypes? Either way, it does so in a rather careless manner, and many jokes make light of the harm of such stale representation. Much of the film is also oddly erotic — while some of the raunchy jokes land, some of the scenes are plainly uncomfortable. However, this largely boils down to the parodic nature of the movie. It is, after all, a spoof, and it certainly succeeds in that measure. Every classic film trope or character finds its way into the movie in its most exaggerated form, regardless of genre, and several films are mentioned by name. Among these classic horror references, including “I Know What You Did Last Summer” and “The Exorcist,” there’s a battle that mirrors the slow-motion fighting featured in “The Matrix.”

“Scary Movie” tries to be a slasher comedy teen drama, a love letter to cinema and a critique of movies all at once. It’s certainly a good time, but it’s nothing special for a spoof. It overplays some stereotypes to a harmful degree, and the movie relies too heavily on its shock factor to make up for its otherwise mediocre plot. Some things are better left fond, hazy memories — they grow stale and can’t inspire the same childlike glee they once did.

1. “The Mirror ___ From Side to Side” (Agatha Christie mystery)

2. Destroy chemically, as with metal 3. Nintendo game staple series 4. Overwhelms

5. Determiner meaning the whole amount 6. Smart aleck

7. What the “N” in NICU stands for 8. One who manages, briefly 9. 2011 spring, in politics 10. Mouth-open amazement

By Jackson Roberts

This Week’s Theme: The Holy Grail

ACROSS

1. Loops into the email convo

4. Already-cut, for wood

8. Lava is a misnomer

13. ___-de-loup

14. One may be done in a tutu before a pirouette

15. With 60-Across, one half of The Hoya’s Senior Guide Editors

16. Wyatt or Virgil

17. As well

18. 2000s Eminem or Drake merchandise, generally

19. “Scary Movie”

21. Nashville to Washington, D.C., dir.

23. Fresh prince of what air?

24. Women’s hybrid bottoms

25. Retiree representation org.

27. Comes before date or process

29. Somewhat flirtatious phrase, sometimes about Snapchat

30. “Spaceballs”

32. Pink Mr. Potato Head piece

33. Quenches

34. “Knives Out” filmmaker Johnson

37. Many ancient places?

38. Misheard that Santa killed it?

42. It’s after zeta and before theta 44. “Airplane!”

45. Italian explorer John

48. Battery or car service

49. Face of “America’s Next Top Model” Banks

50. “Santa Baby” singer Kitt

51. PHIL-1900 to many a Hoya

53. Org. instruction common in many a campus club

54. The relation of the clues for 19-Across, 30-Across and 44-Across to their answers

55. “The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo” author Larsson

57. Posted a phonily perceived penny, say?

59. Inch, pound or acre

11. Dave McFly in the “Back to the Future”

12. First aid machine, for short

13. Thompson of “Men in Black: International”

20. Had a healthy diet

22. Muse of lyric poetry

26. It lowers costs for consumers

28. Doublecurve letter, say?

31. Loiter

35. Pirate greetings

36. Anxiety-driven obsessions

38. “Kill Bill” singer

39. Jumped for, usually referring to an opportunity

40. Deleting

41. Curtains

43. Electronic stomach muscle stimulator

46. “I guess”

47. Savor

50. Lauder who was much-lauded

52. Crocs and Chaco competitor

55. Sault ___. Marie

56. Gerard of “Nightingales”

58. Palindromic diarist Anais

60. With 15-Across, the other half of The Hoya’s Senior Guide Editors

61. Canal in upstate New York

62. Hawaiian goose

63. Woman in a space western?

64. Auld lang ___

65. Headphones doctor