Genre Jumper

I'll be honest.

I have no idea how to eulogize Bob Clark, a fine director responsible for the most successful sex comedy franchise of the 80s (started by the most profitable Canadian film ever), an equally influential horror flick that's been recently (and crappily) remade, and what is, in my opinion, the best holiday film of any generation.



Those would be Porky's, Black Christmas and A Christmas Story, respectively. Taken alone, they represent a subject range most filmmakers wouldn't even attempt. Clark did it anyway. I'd argue his command of film language jumps genres so easily because it's less about cinema and more about humanity. Witness characters in any of the above films and you'll see real people, not contrivances. I don't care if his late-career projects were sub-par or uninspired. It doesn't tarnish these early achievements.



Bob Clark was struck on the PCH around 2:20 in the morning while in a car with his 22-year-old son. The drunk guy in the SUV that did the striking - only two years older than Clark's boy - got off with minor injuries. There's no point commenting on the circumstances of these deaths, but I will anyway.

They piss me off. They're sad.



What gets me most, though, is that I only skimmed the recent interview with Bob Clark in the Globe & Mail. My act, sadly, represents a common view (even a Canuck view) of the man: we have an awareness of him, even an appreciation for what he did...

But he was too often overlooked.