Benny Jay: Donnie Darko

I’m in Dark Star, the world’s greatest video store, looking for a movie, when Mike, the owner, says to me: “`The Box‘ opened….”

“The Box?”

“Yeah, Richard Kelly’s new movie….”

“Richard Kelly?”

“You know, the guy who did`Donnie Darko‘….”

“Donnie Darko?”

“You didn’t see Donnie Darko!”

“I, ugh….”

“Oh, my God – you gotta see Donnie Darko….”

He steps out from the counter, walks to the rack, grabs “Donnie Darko,” hands it to me, and just like that I take it home cause when it comes to movies I pretty much do what Mike tells me. For one thing, he knows a lot about movies. For another, we have a lot in common. For instance, we both love Pam Grier. As a matter of fact, it was Mike who made me watch “Jackie Brown.” I told him I wasn’t going to watch it cause Quentin Tarantino directed it and I didn’t like “Pulp Fiction” and he said what does one have to do with the other? He made me rent it — practically thrust the DVD into my hand — and now it’s one of my all-time all times.  I’ve seen it, I don’t know, three or four times….

When I get home I ask my older daughter if she wants to watch “Donnie Darko” and she says what’s it about and I say not really sure — didn’t even look at the box — but I think it’s a dark comedy, you know, like something by the Coen Brothers.

I don’t know why I said that — I guess I was just hoping it would be like that.

So we put it on and thirty minutes goes by and I realize, not having laughed once, this is no comedy — this is a scary movie. Not horror scary as in knife-bearing psychos jumping out of closets, but eerie scary, as in — this is starting to creep the hell out of me.

It’s about Donnie Darko, this smarmy 18-year-old played by Jake Gyllenhaal, who’s having these weird nighttime visits from a six-foot-two-inch rabbit – that’s rabbit, not rabbi – named Frank. I swear, I’m not making any of this up. And the Rabbit leads Donnie out of his bed in the middle of the night. And once he takes off on his late-night ramblings, you never know what he’s going to do. There’s one scene where Donnie takes this axe and goes off to school and he’s moving really slow, just taking his time, and….

“This movie’s creepy,” I tell my daughter.

“Yeah,” she says.

“I mean, it’s really creepy….”

“Shh….”

“I don’t know how much more I can take….”

“I wanna stay to see the end….”

“Yeah, but this is really creeping me out….”

“No, stay….”

So I stay.

And Donnie Darko takes that axe and he…..

Oh, the horror. The horror – ahhhh!

To tell you the truth, the Donnie Darko character is really starting to annoy me — I mean, he thinks he’s so smart. But the thing that’s really killing me is that six-foot-two-inch rabbit. I never liked rabbits to start with.  As a matter of fact, I used to have a roommate who kept a rabbit in a cage in his bedroom and when he went away he got me to feed it. I hated going near that rabbit. I kept thinking it was going to get out of the cage and attack me. All it did was take carrots in on one end and crap `em out on the other. It looked like a fluffy, white rat. And I really hate rats. Don’t get me started on rats….

Finally, the movie ends. I won’t tell you what happens — in case you haven’t seen it — but it has all this time-travel stuff, like a demented version of “Back to the Future.”

“Whew,” I say. “Thank God that’s over….”

“Great movie,” says my daughter.

And then — dig this! — she yawns, stretches and heads off for bed. As in — oh, well, time to get some sleep.

“Where you going?” I ask.

“To bed,” she says.

“How the hell can you sleep after this?”

“I’m tired….”

“Don’t you wanna talk?”

“Good night, dad….”

Isn’t that funny — when she wanted me to stay, I stayed. But now, suddenly, oh, it’s sleepy time.

I sit in the dark and look out the window. Then I remember — gotta walk the dog. Should have walked her before I saw the movie. But I didn’t and now it’s well after midnight….

Outside it’s all dark and creepy. I’m looking over my shoulder for Donnie Darko and that rabbit. Especially that rabbit.

And guess what I see? That’s right – a rabbit! Scampering across a lawn. Our neighborhood’s crawling with them, by the way.

Soon as I see that rabbit, I turn right around and head home. The dog’s looking at me like – hey, man, what the fu….

“Sorry, Nicky,” I say. “But we’re cutting this walk short. Make it up to you tomorrow….”

I scurry into the house and lock the door. If I never see another rabbit, I’ll be a happy man….