From Issue 20, January 2005:

Fish out of Water

by Simon Kent

(Complete Article: From time to time we will publish full articles on our website, particularly when connected to an event, promotion or scheme.)

At the heart of the ‘Fish out of Water’ genre is a single character who finds him or herself in an alien environment and from this kernel, a whole host of possibilities arise. There is simple comedy: the gawky Mia trying to assume the manners, poise and elegance of a princess (The Princess Diaries, 2001; dir. Garry Marshall, scr. Gina Wendkos); the thriller - hard Philadelphian cop John Book tries to fit into an Amish community in order to protect himself and a witness from the corrupt police force (Witness, 1985; dir. Peter Weir, scr. William Wallace, Pamela Wallace, Earl W. Wallace); the comedic adventure of a rough outback Australian trying to cope with the challenges of a big metropolitan city (Crocodile Dundee, 1986; dir. Peter Faiman, scr. John Cornell, Paul Hogan), and even the drama of a well brought up young girl and her young brother trying to survive in the harsh Australian bush (Walkabout, 1971; dir. Nicolas Roeg, scr. Edward Bond).

The strength of all these films lies in the central character and their relationship and attitude towards their immediate surroundings. The type of films that are created by the writers and directors result from how and why these characters end up in these situations and what exactly is at stake for each of them. If they do not fit in, what will happen? The country will not survive without its rightful heir, both cop and witness will be killed, the rough Australian will return home and never see the woman he loves again, and the young girl and her brother may never reach home.

What is equally important to the genre is that despite being out of its natural water, the fish does not change. Certainly the central characters face immense challenges and learn something about themselves and the communities they try to inhabit, but they do not alter their personality or central beliefs in order to fit into those places. Indeed, it is usually the water they have landed in which changes in order to accept and support them. As a result, these films can make commentary on the society in which the individual finds him or herself. They also make clear the importance of the protagonist learning who they are and seeking to maintain that identity no matter what pressures are brought upon them to fit in or conform to that society’s norm.

Taking the comic approach to this genre, it’s clear the Fish out of Water can be similar to the Comedy of Disguise - a genre previously featured on the 25 Words or Less initiative. Never Been Kissed (1999, dir. Raja Gosnell, scr. Abby Kohn, Marc Silverstein) is certainly a Comedy of Disguise in which Josie Geller has to assume the role of a 16 year old high school student in order to complete an assignment for her newspaper. Trading Places (1983, dir. John Landis, scr. Timothy Harris, Herschel Weingrod) and Big (1988, dir. Penny Marshall, scr. Gary Ross, Anne Speilberg) also have elements of disguise.

In all these films comedy arises from the incongruity between the protagonists’ natural characteristics and the behaviour expected of them in their new community. When Josie first arrives at school she is dressed inappropriately and almost gives herself away when entering the school premises. Eddie Murphy’s tramp, Billy Ray Valentine, walks around the home he has been told is now his, stealing as many items as he can while he has the chance. Meanwhile Ackroyd’s Louis Winthorpe III can’t believe his $6000 watch (ultra thin and waterproof) only makes $50 at a pawn shop.

While the Comedy of Disguise is frequently driven by the protagonist’s motive, the Fish out of Water tends to make their leap because of external forces. Josie takes the undercover assignment because she wants to prove she can be a reporter, but it is her paper’s boss who determines that she will pretend to be a high school girl. The switch between Winthorpe and Valentine is the result of a bet between the Duke brothers. Walkabout’s girl and boy are stranded in the Australian bush. Tom Hanks’ Josh says he wants to be big but doesn’t bargain for the changes that the wish triggers.

This shift of focus away from the protagonist is important because the lesson learned from such films is not ‘be careful what you wish for’ but ‘be proud and confident in what you are now’. Josh finally wants to be a small boy again because he’s not ready for the adult world. In Private Benjamin (1980, dir. Howard Zeiff, scr. Nancy Myers, Harvey Miller) Judy Benjamin joins the army because she’s given the wrong impression of army life by her recruiting officer. However, she decides to stay in the army because she wants to prove that she can be a success. As Josie says after blowing her cover at the Senior Prom “Find out who you are and don’t be afraid of it.”

In The Princess Diaries, rather than being given a role she doesn’t want, Mia discovers she already is heir to the throne of Genovia. The issue here is personal identify and Mia spends the film finding out who she really is, not from a family point of view, but in trying to determine what being a princess means and whether personality-wise she has what it takes. Again, there is comedy as she undergoes training for her royal role and tries to reconcile royalty with being held in derision by her school contemporaries. When her identity is revealed to the press she comes under further pressure: the media now wants a piece of her and everyone at school claims to be her best friend or to be dating her. As a result she loses touch with Lily who has been her one true friend from the start. This process indicates her movement away from who she really is; she has traded worthwhile and valuable friendships with temporary and superficial acquaintances.

Josie goes through the same process in Never Been Kissed. She succeeds in being accepted by the A crowd at the expense of her friendship with Aldys, the first girl to befriend her when she arrived at school. ‘There goes another lemming,’ says Aldys as they pass on shopping mall escalators heading in opposite directions. Assuming a different identify is not simply about misleading people as to who they really are, it is a way of exploring and studying identity, how people can choose to change to ‘fit in’ and what happens if they do not conform.

In The Princess Diaries, acceptance of the individual is a two-way street. Mia learns more about being royal and finally, because of the contents of a letter from her father, accepts this role, but Clarisse, her grandmother and current holder of the throne, also has to accept she can do it. Clarisse learns about contemporary life in San Francisco when the two go on a fun day out around the amusement arcades which ends up with Mia’s car damaging a tram. Clarisse uses her regal charm to resolve the situation. Even though Mia creates all kinds of problems through pictures in the press and turning a formal meal with dignitaries into slapstick, Clarisse ultimately believes she is excellent princess material. She sees herself in the young girl and when Mia does accept the succession, she claims to have known she would do so all along.

In Legally Blonde (2001, dir. Robert Luketic, scr. Karen McCulluh Lutz), Crocodile Dundee and Beverley Hills Cop (1984, dir. Martin Brest, scr. Danilo Bach, Daniel Petrie Jnr) there’s not so much two way acceptance as the Fish out of Water converting all around him/herself to his/her way of thinking. Harvard Law School is strongly resistant to the idea of an apparently vacuous blonde girl who’s majored in fashion taking a place at the college. Elle’s fellow students are equally resistant and show outright hostility to her presence, yet she continues undeterred and uncompromising, frequently using their negative attitude to fuel her determination to succeed.

These are stories of ‘be who you are’. Elle, Dundee and Axel Foley know absolutely who they are and are pretty much the same people at the end of the film as they are at the beginning. What changes is the world around them. It has shifted; it has taken notice, embraced and finally celebrated their difference.

Moreover, the very thing that appeared to be these characters’ fatal flaws at the start of the films - the reason why they will not be accepted - becomes the reason why they are successful and loved. When Elle arrives at Harvard, she doesn’t compromise on her style, manner or beauty regime. She strikes up a friendship with Paulette who does her nails, and finds pleasure in retrieving Paulette’s dog from her previous abusive husband. Critically, she is able to bond with Brooke, the murder suspect her firm are trying to prove is innocent. She bonds with her over her love of fitness videos; she maintains their relationship and her own integrity by not revealing her compromising alibi, and finally she proves the case through her knowledge that a new perm cannot be washed within 24 hours. Prior to this final triumph, however, she is propositioned by the company’s boss, a fact that makes her want to give it all up because she thinks no one will ever take her seriously.

While occasionally overplaying his macho image, Mick ‘Crocodile’ Dundee is at one with the natural habitat of the Australian outback. He effortlessly protects Sue Charlton, the New York reporter, when she tries to survive in the bush and while his skills are incongruous with expected behaviour in New York, for the main part they protect him from this alien surrounding. Indeed, Dundee also creates comedy because while he appears entirely naive as regards the dangers around him, his natural reactions offer protection, not least from the muggers who flee when he produces a knife five times the size of theirs. Native New Yorkers may be a little thrown by his manner, but doorman, chauffeur and prostitutes all end up liking him and Sue throws over her straight-laced, company-man boyfriend to proclaim her love for Dundee.

Axel Foley’s arrival at Beverley Hills Police Department is met with dismay by the officers who do everything ‘by the book’ and don’t appreciate Foley’s ‘initiative’, that is, the maverick attitude, white lies and refusal to toe the line. After the climactic shoot out, however, he has everyone in the force on his side, spinning cover stories to prove to the Chief that despite appearances, proper procedure has been followed at all times in order to solve the case.

It is possible to find social commentary in these films, although since these are primarily comedies it would be difficult to argue that it is a major focus of the films. However, there’s clearly something wrong with a legal profession that bases everything on appearance and formality at the expense of talent and intuition. A similar message to ‘go with your hunch’ rather than regulations is present in Beverley Hills Cop. Since Crocodile Dundee (both 1 and 2) spends equal screen time in the outback of Australia and the heart of New York, there is also a direct comparison to be made between surviving the city and surviving nature.

This element is far more apparent in Witness where the world of the tough Philadelphian cop comes head to head with that of the plain and peaceful Amish community. John Book needs the testimony of Samuel, an Amish boy, in order to prove the identity of a policeman’s killer. He takes the boy and his mother around the back streets of Philadelphia trying to get a positive identification. He has his sister put them up since they can’t use hotels. When the killer turns out to be a policeman and the corruption reaches as far as Book’s own boss, the trio escapes to the Amish community to avoid being found. At first, Book is forced to stay in the community while recovering from a gunshot wound, but not only does he stay on while trying to work out what to do next, he integrates into the community in as far as an ‘English’ or outsider is able.

Book learns to respect the Amish way of life. He admires its plainness and feels satisfaction in the work he does for the community. He makes sure his gun is hidden out of reach of Samuel. He helps build a new barn working shoulder to shoulder with the other men. He is strongly attracted to the Samuel’s recently widowed mother but knows the relationship cannot be consummated since if it were, either she would have to leave and return with him to Philadelphia or he would have to stay in the community.

Although Book assumes the guise of an Amish in order to fit in, he is still the same man. He can never completely leave the world he is running from. He insists on carrying his gun when he goes to get provisions from town, and when he hears his partner has been killed (allegedly in the line of duty) he takes his frustration out on some locals who decide to tease the Amish. Despite Old Eli’s warnings to the contrary, Book lays into one of the lads with extreme violence, resulting in a broken nose for the lad and a warning from a bystander that such scenes are bad for the tourist trade.

At the film’s climax when Book’s foes turn up to kill him, the community physically rallies round Book preventing Schaeffer from taking further action. The fact that this peaceful community has accepted Book, count him as one of their own and will stand up with him against the murderous outsiders, stands in stark contrast to the world from which Book has come where the very people who should be looking out for you and taking care of you are in fact corrupt and seeking to bring you down. It is not for nothing that Book leaves the community with Old Eli’s words ringing in his ears: “You be careful, John Book, out among them English!”

Witness is not without humour. Incongruity surrounds the Amish couple saying prayers before eating a hot dog at a city cafe and in Book’s appearance dressed in the plain clothes of the Amish, but the film is driven by suspense. We know Book must finally meet his nemesis. We know they’re going to find him. It is only a matter of time before the fish must return to the water from whence he came. The only question is whether he will be able to do that successfully or whether the water will now kill him.

In Walkabout, social commentary is to the fore, made plain through the fast cutting between images of city life and images of nature. Everyday business life and preparation of food in the city in contrasted with animals living and killing each other and the aborigines living alongside them. The film starts with panning shots taking us from brick and concrete walls to the outback, showing how nature is never too far away. It is also clear that modern life itself is dysfunctional: the girl and boy are left on their own when their father goes mad, tries to kill them, sets fire to his own car and kills himself.

While the image work is important to the film, the work of the screenplay and dialogue should not be underestimated. Aborigine and westerners cannot directly communicate and initially their needs are communicated through sign language. Importantly, the girl continues to speak precise English and to place entirely western interpretations on the aborigines’ actions. The boy does manage to learn some of the aborigine’s language and tries to copy his hunting actions. The message here is that of natural innocence being destroyed by modern life and, when the aborigine finally kills himself, of natural life being contaminated and terminated by the modern world. This final point is taken a step further when the two children walk to the next town and are given a hostile welcome by one of the inhabitants in stark contrast to the openness and willingness to share and help demonstrated by the aborigine.

The closing scene of the film finds the girl married and living with an office worker in the same tower block in which she grew up. Her husband is talking about office politics and the fact that he’s been promoted but the girl’s thoughts are elsewhere: they’re with her experiences of the outback, perhaps still trying to work out her own place in the world and what exactly is important in her life.

When the Dukes substitute the lives of Valentine and Winthorpe for each other they do so as a bet to decide whether good business skill and money sense is something which is hereditary or a question of environment. Given the appropriate circumstances, anyone can make money. Given enough hard pressure, anyone will turn to a life of crime in order to survive. It appears that their experiment proves the latter case, but what they don’t bank on is Valentine’s own personal sense of right and wrong. The film’s resolution sees Valentine and Winthorpe team up in order to bankrupt the Dukes and give them a taste of their own medicine. Their plot requires Valentine and Winthorpe to play to their strengths as con artist and as financier. Together they get the money, the girls and retire happy. The ruined brothers on the other hand are drummed out of the stock exchange with all their assets seized; one brother has a heart attack and the other shows that he really couldn’t care less.

There is a dark side to the Fish out of Water genre. The genre has the potential to raise very serious comments on the nature of society and the individual. It can highlight sexism (Legally Blonde and Private Benjamin include sexual harassment and assault), racism (the Dukes won’t stand for a ‘nigger’ running their company) and questions of class. However, no matter how disturbing these encounters might be, the framework of the genre means viewers know that everything will work out fine: that the intolerant and prejudiced will get their comeuppance and the individual will get the deal, the girl, the boy, the happy ending. Not only that, but in the case of Legally Blonde, Crocodile Dundee and Beverley Hills Cop, achieving that happy ending seems to be a very easy journey. You just need to know who you want to be and be that person to the best of your abilities.

Simon Kent is a freelance journalist, scriptwriter and director. He had a sitcom showcased at TAPS last year his and short film, The Orange Tree, was screened at the Leicester Film Festival and at TAPS 2003. He can be contacted at simon.kent@blueyonder.co.uk.