At Long Last Love.

Review #2249: At Long Last Love.

Cast: 

Burt Reynolds (Michael Oliver Pritchard III), Cybill Shepherd (Brooke Carter), Madeline Kahn (Kitty O'Kelly), Duilio Del Prete (Johnny Spanish), Eileen Brennan (Elizabeth), John Hillerman (Rodney James), Mildred Natwick (Mabel Pritchard), and M. Emmet Walsh (Harold) Written, Directed and Produced by Peter Bogdanovich (#1000 - The Last Picture Show, #1475 - Mask, #2093 - Targets)

Review: 

Admittedly, a handful of films that were thought of as flops are really just because they fit the bill of something worth tearing down because of its star or director being, well, worth taking down a peg. In this case, Peter Bogdanovich might have been an easy target. He had made a tremendous debut feature in Targets (1968) after once being a stage actor, film essayist and critic. Sure, it wasn't a hit with audiences, but it was a damn good thriller. The Last Picture Show (1971) came out of the blue to rip-roaring success. His next film was a homage to screwball comedies in What's Up, Doc? (1972); Paper Moon (1973) was a road feature that adapted a play to pretty good acclaim. And then there was Daisy Miller (1974). The lavish period adaptation of the novella of the same name that Bogdanovich labeled as both "good" and "completely uncommercial" was not exactly a favorite at the time. At Long Last Love (1975) did not have the time or luck to change a perceived slump by Bogdanovich. He was inspired to make the film when he was given a book of song lyrics that had been done by Cole Porter by his then-girlfriend Cybill Shepherd (star of two of Bogdanovich's previous films). It was the first Bogdanovich written entirely by himself (after having co-written a few of his other ones) and it would be one where the actors would sing the song live, which is tough to do if one is not exactly in with dancing on step. It was rushed into theaters and torn apart enough to the point where Bogdanovich printed an open letter of apology. Reynolds stated his belief that the film "Not as bad as it was reviewed. What was reviewed was Cybill and Peter's relationship." Various versions of the film persisted over the years (with different scenes added or missing), which included a cut that wasn't even done by the director. Apparently, a studio editor named James Blakely (a Porter fan) had made an edit of the film (lasting 121 minutes) that honed to the shooting script that was similar to the first preview cut that found its way as the "default" used for streaming. Bogdanovich (having heard of the Netflix version and being delightfully surprised) acknowledged the edition and with a little bit of additions, a "Definitive Director's Version" came out in home media in 2013. But in general, one probably does have to take a little bit of effort to see the film more than other certain flops, particularly when compared to other Bogdanovich films.

Sure, the footwork and singing in certain areas is a bit curious to view for those familiar with musicals. Sure, it has an air of strange elegance that could only come from someone who pushed on making a "jukebox musical" of Cole Porter songs with a loose execution in, well, take your pick. Sure...I actually liked it. It is a playful meet-cute that is full of strange imperfections that seem quite amusing when packed in such a dazzling feature that is old fashioned and yet amusing. These are eccentric "different class" people that are seen doing things such as say, dropping glasses off buildings or casually parking cars with a thud on the lawn. They bumble and stumble in such casual effectiveness that could only come from someone who believed in the actors to basically be like the figurines that are seen to introduce and end the film in that wind-up fashion (complete with a look once described as "Black and white in color"). Reynolds glides through the film with such a casual aura that benefits the proceedings in the charm that arises in offbeat singing/dancing that seems more on the joke in stumbling neatness. Of course, I might be biases because, well, I like seeing Reynolds even in a strange movie like this. Shepherd might have been a lightning rod for criticism, but she doesn't do a terrible job here. Sure, she wavers in certain numbers, but she isn't exactly meant to be playing an angel anyway (goofy brat might be the word here). Del Prete (an Italian singer/songwriter/actor) is adequate, albeit mostly as a straight man (with the obvious qualities in hunky goofiness) to other odd qualities, at least when Kahn is right there to play up this frivolous foursome that really need someone to be there with them for those good times rather than melancholy. It is the support from Hillerman and Brennan in amusement that end up saving the film from dottering away, for which one can be grateful. There are worse ways to hear songs played out than this film, ones where they drone on and on or never really elevate the material, but At Long Last Love just happens to be lightly charming in a way that seems to be an out of its time curiosity that plays with the musical while not forgetting the interest that arises in its Porter jukebox for a chuckler that is about people who happen to sing rather than just a straight to the point singing film. On that note, it is a Bogdanovich movie worth looking into with a curious glance because of the clear delight he has in making a tribute to the old days that I'd affectionate without being beholden to doing everything just as one would expect it to be. It is the kind of odd duckling that belongs in the discussion for viewing not as a flop but as something to marvel as a director's vision that hits its mark.

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.

Well, here we are with another theme August finished up. Fourteen reviews (one redux) saw a few surprises in the mix from theatrical interests such as Trap and fun times such as Showgirls. I've been trying to get into the spirit of viewing+reviewing movies with the proper amount of commitment that I hope has been maintained to usual expectations.

There was not quite enough time to consider more films to give "acknowledgement" for August, with a few shortlist misses being movies such as: Treasure Planet, Heartbeeps, 1941, City Heat, Quintet, Moment by Moment, and Staying Alive (the latter three have been thought of for Turkey Week before). The future is uncertain for August 2025, but I'm sure there will be a suitable "A" thing for next time around. I'll try to find some interesting films for September 2024 before, well, you know about October and November. See ya soon. 

Redux: Hudson Hawk.

Redux Review #307: Hudson Hawk.

Cast: 

Bruce Willis (Eddie "Hudson Hawk" Hawkins), Danny Aiello (Tommy "Five-Tone" Messina), Andie MacDowell (Anna Baragli), Richard E. Grant (Darwin Mayflower), Sandra Bernhard (Minerva Mayflower), Donald Burton (Alfred), Don Harvey ("Snickers"), David Caruso ("Kit Kat"), Andrew Bryniarski ("Butterfinger"), Lorraine Toussaint ("Almond Joy"), Frank Stallone (Cesar Mario), Carmine Zozzora (Antony Mario), James Coburn (George Kaplan), Doug Martin (Igg), and Steven M. Martin (Ook) Directed by Michael Lehmann.

Review: 

“It has very intellectual hip humor in it; it has very sophomoric broad slapstick comedy; it has elements of a road picture; it has more romance than any film that I have ever done; it has action; it has big stunts; it has a very dark sensibility… It’s a film that needs to be experienced more than explained…”  - Bruce Willis

A partial reading from my review on December 15, 2012: 

I almost forgot to mention the acting performances, which range from deliberately silly to deliberately over the top (possibly another word for silly), yet again resembling a Batman episode. You might think that it is a bit dumb to criticize this film for its surreal humor (I sure hope so, as for all I know it was meant to be serious, but they did this on purpose) with cartoonish slapstick. However, my reasoning is that it fails in some of those respects. It's mind-numbingly silly, it isn't entirely useful, and it (somewhat) does the crime of not being that funny.  But hey, what do I know.

Really, I could be saying the first few years of watching movies to "talk" about took a while to match my expectations of actually having fun with writing, which, well, eventually went beyond just watching whatever's on the shelf. But there must've been something curious that made my dad get this film on his shelf, because it lurked there for years and years. Most curiously, this was a movie that wasn't a hit with audiences of the time (particularly in America) despite being right in the apex of the career of Willis as a bonafide star. For all the time I remember watching Willis movies, I still have to remember that big steppingstone was winning an audition to star in Moonlighting (1985-1989) opposite Cybill Shepherd that even had him do music numbers on occasion. 

The genesis of the film came from the friendship of Willis and composer Robert Kraft, who were so interested in "The Hudson Hawk" that they even had come up with a song. Willis described it prior to release as "about greed and money in the `90s, with elements of a Bob Hope-Bing Crosby road picture. It`s a comedy with broad slapstick and moronic wit, and it has huge action beats.” Of course, for the screenplay credit, one sees the names of Steven E. de Souza and Daniel Waters (the former had co-written the first two Die Hard films while the latter had written Heathers, which had been directed by Lehmann), although there were plenty of re-writes to go around If one wants an actual detail of the production and its foibles, Richard E. Grant dedicated an entire chapter of his autobiography to it. It is pretty amusing to note to cover Oscar and Hudson Hawk in the same month, because both movies involved action stars trying to do comedy that were not well received and both movies were released a month apart from each other in 1991. And hey, what do you know, count me as a defender of Hudson Hawk, the younger version of myself was an idiot. Of course, one could take the word of one of its stars in Grant when it comes to assessing it as a "stinking pile of steaming hot donkey droppings". But the blend of cartoon sound effects and other various ideas in playing around as a "surreal comedy" is one that takes a while to really appreciate, and I'm surprised that it took me this long to really come around on it. I suppose audiences could accept a little bit of humor when it came to previous Willis works such as Die Hard as quips but they could just not go with a goofy movie that has candy bar names for secret agents to go with heists conducted by songs. Willis and Aiello clearly seem to be having some sort of fun with their back-and-forths, particularly when in song. Apparently both actors tried to get involved in the production (Willis as a producer and Aiello in trying to change the climax), which is amusing. MacDowell (cast at the last minute when Maruschka Detmers got hurt) doesn't have the easiest task and she probably does get swept away in the long run when it comes to middling chemistry with Willis and maybe one amusing scene in which she play acts as a dolphin. Besides, Bernhard acts circles around her in terms of delusional manic energy that proves that Lehmann really had an idea in mind to pair her with Grant in chaotic lunacy (regardless of how the film went, apparently Bernhard and Grant became good friends due to this film) that believes that things like history are trophies to hold in the den. It's funny that a film envisioned as an "anti-James Bond" features Coburn, star of the 60s Bond parody Our Man Flint (1966). He pops in and out for a few scenes of sell out villainy that he sells pretty well to go with a litany of goons in Harvey-Toussiant-Bryniarski (Caruso is also there, giving out note cards) that are goofy enough. In 

The 100-minute runtime is a bit fast-and-loose with its plot construction, with the climax being the flakiest (although it has one amusing idea when it comes to a fake-out that basically is "yeah, sure"). This is a film where its climax involves the last perceived enemy of our hero is blasted out of a window with a tennis ball launcher. It is funny that the movie basically flopped on the same level of Ishtar (1987) in terms of turbulent productions that precluded a litany of rough reviews. But Hudson Hawk has a far more likable duo and an actual aim in madcap stupidity, particularly since it is far more interesting than Lehmann's previous collaboration with Waters in Heathers. Of course, it was marketed as an action film rather than a show of, well, overacting. In the line of Willis movies that came and went in his career, Hudson Hawk was a curious one that maybe was a bit ripe to pick on in over-management but really is something that should be checked out for its idle curiosities in a real "thrown-on-the-wall" caper that might be worth your pleasure. 

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.

Next up: ?

Ishtar.

Review #2248: Ishtar.

Cast: 

Dustin Hoffman (Chuck Clarke), Warren Beatty (Lyle Rogers), Isabelle Adjani (Shirra Assel), Charles Grodin (Jim Harrison), Jack Weston (Marty Freed), Carol Kane (Carol), Tess Harper (Willa Rogers), Aharon Ipalé (Emir Yousef), Fred Melamed (the Caid of Assari), Fuad Hageb (Abdul), David Margulies (Mr. Clarke) and Rose Arrick (Mrs. Clarke) Written and Directed by Elaine May.

Review: 

"Well, oddly enough when I made this movie, Ronald Reagan was president and there was Iran-Contra, we were supporting Iran and Iraq. We put in Saddam. We had taken out the Shah. Khomeini was there. I remember looking at Ronald Reagan and thinking—I’m qualifying this, this was just an idea, I didn’t really believe it—I thought, he’s from Hollywood, he’s a really nice man. It’s possible the only movie he’s ever seen about the Middle East are the road movies with Hope and Crosby, and I thought I would make that movie....If all of the people who hate Ishtar had seen it, I would be a rich woman today."

To put it mildly, Ishtar landed like a smelly fish being thrown onto a wedding party with audiences at large. There's plenty to say about Elaine May beyond just saying this is (currently) her last film as a feature director. The Philadelphia native was the child of actors that had their own Yiddish theater company. Not surprisingly, she got into acting, which eventually led her to meeting Mike Nichols. The two collaborated with each other in improvisational comedy that led to them doing their own standup team that ran for a few years (resulting in Grammy Awards) before they went their own ways. After a handful of years in acting and theatre work, May became a director with A New Leaf in 1971. The Heartbreak Kid (1972) is arguably her most noted film, but Micky and Nicky (1976) endured enough trouble that she did not have her cut of the film shown to the public until after the film already died in theaters. So, a decade later, May was essentially given a chance to direct again because of her help in writing on Heaven Can Wait (1978) and Reds (1981), which each had Warren Beatty as star and director. So yes, Beatty would produce the film (believing that May never had a good producer behind her) to go along with starring alongside Hoffman, who happened to have the help of May in (uncredited) work on Tootsie (1982) and eventually went along with being in the film despite his misgivings about the script (specifically when the film shifts from New York to Morocco for "these guys who think they're Simon and Garfunkel"). While the movie was a flop, May has continued to write (such as the 1996 Nichols comedy The Birdcage) and occasionally act into her nineties.

Maybe it works better for those more familiar with road movies. The film is basically a riff on the seven Road to... films that featured Bing Crosby, Bob Hope & Dorothy Lamour from 1940 to 1962. Those were comedies that were more about gags (and the occasional song) than plot (which could have differing professions from film to film such as sailor playboys on an island or inept vaudevillians dealing with evil hypnotists). Of course, maybe I'm not as familiar with Hoffman or Beatty in films. Maybe it just was a bit too subtle for its time. Maybe, maybe, maybe, nah, this movie just wasn't for me. Honestly, I tried to give the movie a fair shake, but really it just wasn't that funny. It lumbers in the time between the start and actually getting to Ishtar with songs that totally supposed to be funny by being terrible (as written by Paul Williams, who you would remember from stuff such as A Star Is Born [1976]). But all I see is a movie that drones and drones until the only thing that matters by the end of its time in the sand and bland is being thankful you aren't stuck watching it further. You can try to mine humor all one wants in uncomfortable neurotic weirdos, you just have to *be funny* about it. Strangely, it reminded me of Spies Like Us (released two years earlier as its own homage to the Road films, complete with having Hope in a cameo), which also wasn't exactly great in, well, the comedy (of course, it didn't stop others from making their own Road homages, as evidenced by The Road to El Dorado [2000]). Hoffman and Beatty have mostly stuck with the film in terms of defending it (for the most part) with the former calling it "a B-minus, C-plus comedy". And there are people that have raised the film up as not being just a noted flop that probably did find something worthwhile in its comedy involving second-rate musicians that fulfill themselves in their craft. The attempts at showing the "creative process" must be how people who don't care for watching movies about making movies feel.

The chemistry of the trio just isn't there to inspire anything on the level beyond looking at the sand and the ideas of trying to say something about the politics around the people thinking about the Middle East that just seems middling. Adjani bumbles around in a silly getup (get it? short hair?) that benefits no one in actual presence, and the only funny one really is Grodin, because he always seems on point for understated amusement (or Weston, who is seldom seen). Even at 107 minutes, it just feels hollow and middle-ground, never actually getting a rise by the time it goes to what surely seemed funny for its climax of essentially saying, yes, you too can sing all you want and be a name if you happen to have leverage. As a whole, the negative buzz around the film didn't lend it many favors back then, and maybe there really will be a push a few more years down the line to really rehabilitate the movie as a hidden gem, but I am not one of those people. Encounter at your own curiosity of a film that is not nearly what you might think it is, for better or worse.

Overall, I give it 6 out of 10 stars.

Next up: let's do a second chance for something that actually is good...Hudson Hawk.

Alien: Romulus.

Review #2247: Alien: Romulus.

Cast: 

Cailee Spaeny (Rain), David Jonsson (Andy), Archie Renaux (Tyler), Isabela Merced (Kay), Spike Fearn (Bjorn), Aileen Wu (Navarro), and Daniel Betts (Rook) Directed by Fede Alvarez (#839 - Don't Breathe)

Review: 

Admittedly, there isn't much of an excuse I can come up with that explains why I forgot to watch Prometheus (2012) or Alien: Covenant (2017), which if you remember were the previous two films of the Alien franchise released into theaters (counting the Alien vs. Predator films sounds futile). Plans for this film first came out in 2022 for...release on Hulu. These plans changed for the best, if only because, well, we are not friends of promoters of streaming experiences. The film was written by Fede Álvarez and Rodo Sayagues, who have previously worked together on Alvarez's 2013 Evil Dead film and Don't Breathe (2016). Evidently, the film has already made back the money on its $80 million budget in a week.

Admittedly, the pursuit of better things by the youth when it comes to exploring space is at least a useful way to approach making a standalone film for a series built on, well, alien terror. Of course, the one thing I really should have learned was to not peek at the Internet for even the slightest second, if only because hearing the vaguest of early reviews comparing this film to Rogue One (2016) gave me the tiniest bit of pause. I might get the opposite effect that I did with that film in which maybe I will appreciate Alien: Romulus better if I saw it again a few months removed from the initial sense of optimism that was soon met with mild entertainment that has a really good look befuddled by a mild script (when not deluged with trying to reference every single Alien film, for better or worse). Ever get a decent film that you have to carefully say "yes, I liked it despite saying these quibbles that seem like gripes"? This is Exhibit A, right here and there. It seems pointless to say to watch the movie rather than just hear gripes so you can interpret on your own, but hey, you have your time and I have mine, let's just run it down. For starters, I like the general look of the film, mostly because if you are going to wedge yourself between the Scott/Cameron films, you'd better have the commitment to not stick out like a sore thumb (so yes, there are some pretty well done effects) It manages to invoke some of the terror involved in deadly creatures that happen to be desirable in the corporate human sense. The dynamic between Spaeny and Jonsson is actually pretty interesting from the perspective of surrogate relations and examining just what matters most in the lines of loyalty and beyond. Each of them are pretty good in their roles, especially when it comes to handling the dilemmas of the last act (some created by themselves, some by circumstance). In terms of actual factual moments of the last act, it is a pretty neat one in getting to the point.

And then one gets to the "Rogue One" part of the film and one immediately wonders who the hell thought this was a great idea. Yes, one does in fact see a face from the past in the film through the art of effects (such as an animatronic). The character of Rook happens to look like Ian Holm (who passed away in 2020), although it isn't exactly just seeing Ash from the original 1977 Alien. Nothing about seeing Rook seems necessary here (the Holm estate can be happy, of course) beyond just doing a reference just for the sake of it, which pretty much hinders the movie in some respects to actually, well, get moving on its own feet. One is watching a 119-minute movie that only seems to really get going when it strikes the familiar vein of people getting chest-bursted (as opposed to trying to ape bits from Aliens because...?). The characters are mildly involving, but maybe I have missed something from previous films, because it seems this one had the most folks where I was basically waiting for them to get killed (well there was Alien 3, the one that thought taking out most of the survivors of Aliens and putting Ripley on a dude-criminal planet, but it's been a while), particularly in the case of Fearn, who at least has the most satisfying end scene. With so few people around to start the film, one really has a spaced-out amount of terror that is, well, decently executed. As a whole, it invokes some of the wonder and terror that had shaped the first two Alien movies (i.e. the only ones that are really, really good) before trying to play familiar with the others one for a synthesis that is touch-and-go in actual effective power. It is a fine crowd-pleaser that has most of the right elements when it comes to atmosphere and conviction while doing mildly fine in the overall outcome that reminds one that there is a fine line between familiarity and checklist material. I'm not sure exactly where the movie rests in the series when it comes to quality a few years down the line, but being a decent ride sure seems worth remembering.

Overall, I give it 7 out of 10 stars.

Next time: Ishtar.

Showgirls.

Review #2246: Showgirls.

Cast: 

Elizabeth Berkley (Nomi Malone/Polly Ann Costello), Kyle MacLachlan (Zack Carey), Gina Gershon (Cristal Connors), Glenn Plummer (James Smith), Robert Davi (Al Torres), Alan Rachins (Tony Moss), Gina Ravera (Molly Abrams), Lin Tucci (Henrietta "Mama" Bazoom), Greg Travis (Phil Newkirk), Al Ruscio (Sam Karlman), Patrick Bristow (Marty Jacobsen), William Shockley (Andrew Carver), Michelle Johnston (Gay Carpenter), Dewey Weber (Jeff), and Rena Riffel (Penny/Hope)  Directed by Paul Verhoeven (#002 - RoboCop, #632 - Total Recall, #1922 - Starship Troopers, #2046 - Flesh and Blood, #2069 - Turkish Delight)

Cast: 

"I always felt that it was what you might call a hyperbolic approach to filmmaking. Yes, it was over the top. And that was on purpose. The environments were very flashy. There were too many lights, too many idiotic things, and too much Vegas — not only in the surroundings, but “Vegas” in the way the people behaved, in the dialogue, in the acting. As for the finished product: I thought it was perfect. Otherwise I would have changed it. I had time to change it. I could change whatever was there. Even now, when I see the movie, I think it’s shot in an extremely elegant way." - Paul Verhoeven

“I’m not going to spend a lot of time on that moment, because why do that? We don’t live in the past. But I found my own resiliency and my power and my confidence – not only through what I had to find out, but because of you guys. I want to thank you guys for giving me this gift of truly getting a full-circle moment of experiencing the joy with you. You guys and the love you have for this movie have made this the cult film that it is.” - Elizabeth Berkley

Undeniably, I have been waiting to find the best time to finally do (no pun intended) this movie. How could one resist the first and only film with the NC-17 rating to be given a wide release in all the big theaters. A long time ago, one could think of the X rating and think, okay, sure, its unsuitable for kids, but it could be good for the rest of the public to think about watching. But it did not take long for others to use the X rating as a way for certain type of films...ones related to skin flicks. This would work out in the favor of films such as Henry: Portrait of a Serial Killer (1989), which the filmmakers decided was better off released "unrated" rather than accept the MPA's X-rating. As such, the MPA was spurred on to get rid of the X and go with a NC-17 rating for "No children under 17 admitted" (a few years later, they changed it to "No one 17 and under"). Henry & June (1990) was the first film to get the rating, but Showgirls got a release in over 1,000 theaters. I think I mentioned all of this first because I didn't really feel like talking about Joe Eszterhas. He had his first filmed screenplay was F.I.S.T. (1978) on the way to a steady career of scripts that ranged from the known such as Flashdance (1983), Big Shots (1987), and, well, Basic Instinct (1992), which was directed by Paul Verhoeven. While they didn't exactly get along in making that film, they reconciled and eventually came onto an idea of doing a film in the "world of Vegas" (Verhoeven stated that the debates with the MPA on Instinct spurred him make Showgirls with an intended N-17 rating). The fact that Carolco Pictures decided to drop Verhoeven's Crusade project helped in spurring him along to work with Eszterhas in doing stuff such as going to Vegas and talking to people around the sex industry that spurred some of the storyline (that, and a bit of All About Eve). Interestingly, the $40 million dollar project was not a major success with audiences, but it attracted quite a following on the home video market. No, I mean it was really popular on the home video market (first with a slightly edited R-rated cut by Verhoeven), complete with a "V.I.P Edition" that reminds one that DVDs used to have collector things...of things not related to dolls or shirts, because what else could have suction-cup pasties.

Generally, one worries about films that have some sort of camp appeal on the level of Rocky Horror, because sometimes it could subject you to insufferable mediocrity in the name of "attempted satire" or "something deep". And since I found little to really hold in Verhoeven's Starship Troopers, the worry/curiosity was considerable. And we have an over-the-top lead performance (acting, dancing, nudity) that had considerable influence by Verhoeven (to get the "element of style" he thought would work for the film). He aimed for hyperboiic over-the-top stuff, not camp. To understand the movie is that the cult status that arose from it comes in people that either enjoyed it as irony, drag performers/midnight movie people, or, well, guilty pleasures. Eszterhas stated that the film was intended to be something dark in amusement. But really, this is a movie with little eroticism (but plenty of flesh), and, well, the ethics of a soap opera that is totally not surprising from the guy who directed Turkish Delight (1973), which had dream sequences and thrusting frustrations. Satire this, camp that, I actually had fun watching the movie as a heightened piece of exploitation. By the halfway point, the question on my mind, was, well who gives a shit if the film "is what it is" on purpose or not? Who cares if it is some sort of "satire" or something to do re-thinking on? It is a silly movie that basically takes All About Eve and throttles it right into the gutter in a way that would make Beyond the Valley of the Dolls (1970) proud. Granted, it isn't as *entertaining* as the aforementioned Dolls film, but it sure has the guts to go where it thinks it needs to go. It really is an elegant type of movie when it comes to presentation of its numbers beyond just being a vehicle of skin that, well, you just don't see in movies today.

Berkley had Saved by the Bell as her big credit prior to this film, which basically killed off her chances to be a leading star in mainstream stuff. It is a pity too, because her abrupt timing is actually pretty cut-rate in entertainment value. One is watching a viper that simply believes they can dive right into a pit and not get something left on them. Is it really so bad to be so goofy just because one is showing a bit of skin? Far be it from me to criticize her performance for being what it aimed to be: a riff on the "star is born" trope that should be watched with clear interest rather than just lumping it as just one-note. Her passion is to not have the seams unravel on her little act, and there is something amusing about her attempt at trying to look like a good dancer along with tough that hides a hollowed-out soul. Undeniably though, Gershon (who thought the role was from the get-go as, well, was something fun) is devilishly charming in a role that could've just been fodder for cheap jokes, because only a person of her caliber could handle lines involving the good ol' days of Doggy Chow or the duality that really is apparent between her and Berkley in terms of opportunistic people wrapped in a meat market (known as show business). Her allure carries the film in a way that is easy to see why she received good marks for her role back then. MacLachlan (best known as the star of Twin Peaks that happened to receive less than 1/10th the slams of Berkley for this) apparently chose this film because, well, Verhoeven. Sure, he might call the film "inadvertently funny" now, but I think there is something quite amusing about his performance when it comes to the cascade of devious artificiality (particularly with that mop-hair he wears). If the women re-invent themselves to stay alive, surely the men have their own "re-inventions" in store (bribery, extortion, etc.). Consider how one would see the scenes of the unerotic eroticism (as one might put it) between him and Berkley in the club (which has the eyes of Gershon right there) and the one by themselves at the pool before it all ends with an "intended compliment"  Really though, I fail to see how people took a film seriously that has a character played by Tucci that basically plays a mentor to strippers that does an act with popping..skin or having Davi basically play a wisecracking pervert saying lines like "It must be weird not having anybody...on you". Ravera is seemingly the only normal one of the whole bunch, which is only more amusing to see her continue to interact with Berkley (because again, gotta have a friend to a would-be star). Plummer's opportunistic wisecracks (a sort of chorus when saying everyone "got AIDS and shit") pop up from time to time with amusement, particularly with the last punchline involving his intended choreographed dance.

Admittedly, the most controversial scene in the film probably will affect the mood of those who watch it because, well, the rape scene comes out of nowhere. It may serve the point that no one really can just claw innocence in a place of sin, but it surely won't be the easiest thing to try and stomach. The fact that it serves as the impetus for both a soap opera-twist alongside a pretty quick resolution that may or may not ring true in the last marks of elegant exploitation is surely a strange one. While the hint of a sequel (supposedly set in Hollywood) did not come to pass, Showgirls is a surprise to the viewer who dares to see it, regardless of if they expect something with "camp" or for supposed terrible quality. I see a strangely alluring exploitation film that shows that some people really, really, really, should not take themselves that seriously. If you watch the film with an open mind for elegant exploitation rather than just going on a checklist, you might find a strange gem worth holding up. Sleazy and absurd, I find no shame in calling this a winner for those with the interest in skin-deep elegance. Lord knows if I come back to it sometime and like it (or don't like it) as much or even more the second time around.

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.

Next: Okay this one is not quite on the theme, but Alien: Romulus was anticipated by me anyway.

Mommie Dearest.

Review #2245: Mommie Dearest.

Cast: 

Faye Dunaway (Joan Crawford), Diana Scarwid & Mara Hobel (Christina Crawford), Steve Forrest (Gregg Savitt), Howard da Silva (Louis B. Mayer), Rutanya Alda (Carol Ann), Harry Goz (Alfred Steele), Michael Edwards (Ted Gelber), Jocelyn Brando (Barbara Bennett), Priscilla Pointer (Margaret Lee Chadwick), and Selma Archerd (Connie) Directed by Frank Perry (#1957 - David and Lisa)

Review: 

In 1978, Christina Crawford wrote a book about her upbringing (as an adopted daughter) at the hands of legendary actress Joan Crawford, who adopted Christina after her birth in 1939. She stated that her mother had valued her career more so than her family life, complete with having Christina call various men that she happened to see "Uncle". When Joan died in 1977, she left Christina (and her adopted brother) out of the will for "reasons which are well known to them." Various people around Crawford had their own thoughts about the allegations of abuse leveled by Christina, which included two of her (adopted) siblings, who sued her because she claimed that Cathy and Cynthia were not biological sisters or adopted legally. The actual life of Joan Crawford probably could have made its own miniseries even without the aforementioned book. Crawford (born Lucille Fay LeSueur) had a dubious childhood (involving a stepfather accused of embezzlement). At any rate, she went from dancing in the chorus of revues to the Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer days (of nearly two decades). The San Antonio native was quoted as working hard to practice her dictation, complete with repeating a word fifteen times to get it correct for ones she had not known to pronounce. She actually adopted five children (three girls), with one of them being returned back to the family on their request. The furor of the book led to film rights being sold to Paramount, as one would expect. Robert Getchell was hired in to write the screenplay (Crawford had done a script but it wasn't used) before Tracy Hotchner and Frank Yablans (who produced the film) were brought into re-write the script before the bringing in of Frank Perry to direct (and deliver re-writes for the only writing credit he ever received on a film) as opposed to the original intent of Franco Zeffirelli to direct Anne Bancroft. At any rate, the film only focuses on two of the four children raised by Crawford (Christina, Christopher, Cathy, Cynthia). Incidentally, Christina has been on record as not being a fan of the film, although she noted once (while promoting her one-woman show "A Conversation with Christina Crawford: Live and Onstage in Surviving Mommie Dearest") that there was a certain amount of folks who seemed to enjoy the film as a melodrama that "lost a sense of reality." The movie was not exactly loved by critics, but audiences apparently were fine with the film to where Paramount Pictures actually marketed it as an unintentional comedy (“Faye Dunaway in Mommie Dearest—the biggest mother of them all.”) midway through release. Perry, who had directed eleven films prior to this one, directed just three further features (one of those in Monsignor (1982), is apparently worse) prior to being diagnosed with prostate cancer that led to his death at the age of 65 in 1995.

In its sympathy for the devil, one sees a great contradiction with this film. It jumps around in its selection of what it believes would make an interesting biopic. Its attempts at showing the conflict of a person who tried to be a regal and "always on" movie star but also a dear mother that expected the most from the children she chose to adopt. You have a method actress at the height of their career (coming off an Academy Award win a few years prior) who had to contort the muscles around their mouth and hold it so one could see the resemblance to Crawford who seemed to believe that when back home she could feel Crawford in her presence. People either see the film as unintentionally amusing or disturbing, but all I see is a very average experience that has one domineering performance and obvious pacing problems. I think of it as "The Rocky Horror Picture Show effect", where the hype about it being a cult favorite leads to a really average viewing experience. The movie around Dunaway never really gets going because, well, imagine making a movie where you don't think about Christina Crawford a fraction of the time that you see (and hear) Dunaway chew the scenery. I think there is something quite compelling about what you might as well call the Faye Dunaway Experience that might make you want to see it. Yes, stuff such as the "wire hanger" sequences probably don't lend favors to Dunaway in the long run, but I think there is something really worthwhile in seeing Dunaway basically morph into Crawford in spirit. Dunaway apparently blamed Perry in not apparently having the experience (incidentally, Perry had directed eleven films prior to this) to assess when an actor should rein in their performance. The enjoyment of the film is in how much you care for that performance above else, because Scarwid and Hobel basically get swept up as dominos to be moved around as if all that matters is to see a family monster more than, well an actual story moving from A to B (you don't even get to see the screen Crawford die on screen, she just passes and boop, that's that). One kind of would like to have seen more from Forrest, who seems bemused to be in the film (incidentally, he plays a person that didn't exist in real life). Biopic or no biopic, I think a point-by-point movie about Crawford in all the facets of a career (the hard work and the domineering personality) would have been a better flick than this. Sure, you could call that "cliched", but it probably would've tried to reach a level of "honest" that this film never really reaches. The 129-minute runtime lumbers with some of the ambition required but not nearly enough in actual depth. Sure, some of the film is amusing because of the sheer audacity in dialogue. If the film was compelling in drama, maybe one would take interest in seeing what gets played out in the "historical record", but instead of harrowing edge, it comes off as exaggerated in a way that is hollow; in short: it isn't as funny as one thinks from a so-called "camp favorite" and it isn't as moving as it surely wishes to be. As a whole, I really wish the film was better. It yearns to be taken seriously as a work about the toils of trying to be both a consistent star in the classic studio system and simultaneously trying to mold her children in her image. Instead, it became a film misunderstood by ones willing to criticize it or think of it as some sort of goofy trash. 

Overall, I give it 6 out of 10 stars.

About (fucking) time: the NC-17 rated Showgirls up next.

Nothing but Trouble (1991).

Review #2244: Nothing But Trouble.

Cast: 

Chevy Chase (Chris Thorne), Dan Aykroyd (Alvin "J.P" Valkenheiser / Bobo), John Candy (Dennis Valkenheiser / Eldona Valkenheiser), Demi Moore (Diane Lightson), Valri Bromfield (Miss Purdah), Taylor Negron (Fausto Squiriniszu), Bertila Damas (Renalda Squiriniszu), Raymond J. Barry (FBI Agent Mark), and Brian Doyle-Murray (FBI Agent Brian) Directed by Dan Aykroyd.

Review: 

"Well the movie I directed I wish had done better because I know it was a good serviceable comedy. It was called "Nothing But Trouble." It just got hit by the Gulf War and there was a Julia Roberts comedy and a Jodie Foster movie in the same marketplace and we were dead. But people watch it on DVD and they tell me they like it."

I'm sure you've had a weird experience on the road once. Dan Aykroyd apparently had one such experience in the late 1970s that involved him wrapped in a kangaroo court after a traffic mishap that saw him invited to tea. The impetus to make a horror comedy came at the suggestion of Robert K. Weiss when he went to a screening (with the Aykroyds) of Hellraiser and saw people laughing at the film. Peter Aykroyd wrote the story for the film while his older brother Dan wrote the screenplay. A variety of the ideas came from dreams Aykroyd was having to go along with the actual town of Centralia, Pennsylvania (a near ghost town due to a coal mine fire that has burned under the place since 1962). Aykroyd never actually wanted to direct the film, because he initially aimed to play both the Judge character and the lead character eventually played by Chase because the studio wanted Chase to star (Aykroyd then was tasked to play "Bobo" because nobody was big on playing an ugly twin). While the studio did not meddle during the actual shooting of the film (due to, of all things, being distracted by another troubled production in The Bonfire of the Vanities), they eventually meddled when it came to the final cut, which they felt was too much and thus cut it down to go for a PG-13 rating and push back the release from Christmas 1990 (the aforementioned Vanities film got the date) to 1991 while changing the title from "Valkenvania" to, well, "Nothing But Trouble". The movie was not liked by audiences or critics, and it is the only film that has been directed by Aykroyd.

Honestly, it isn't exactly that bad, and I fail to see exactly why people gave the movie guff for basically being a sillier rendition of a monster movie (Abbott and Costello isn't too bad a comparison) crossed with Motel Hell. Sure, it isn't as funny as it probably could have been and it sure seems obvious where things were cut down to size (complete with its Looney Tunes ending), but what the hell is so bad about goofy grotesque fun? If it was a film by an "auteur", would people have given credit as one that dared to show dreams on screen? Instead, it was thought of as gross and not funny when the grotesque eccentric nature is the whole point. Sure, one could say the cast turns out to be a mixed bag, depending on one's patience, particularly when it comes to the middling chemistry of Chase and Moore, but one could make the argument that they look accurately befuddled at the proceedings around them that play around with the idea of who one wants to be following as a lead. When one finally gets around to Aykroyd, you really can't take your eyes off him in his amusingly creepy nature that imposes plenty on its audience, complete with a moment where his nose looks a certain way while grinning. He plays one half of the mutant baby-creatures that likes to play cards that is actually kinda funny. I think one has to just imagine that Chase really is just playing a jerk who thinks he knows better than the others around him rather than calling it a lazy performance (don't worry, there were lazier ones). Candy is probably the second most committed to the bit, having some warm charm in one role and a silently funny role on the other side (yes, one can look pretty convincing in a certain type of costume if they have the right glance for it). It is the designs that come through in the sets and costumes that keep the film on the ride of sustainability that otherwise would've doomed other films to, well, having less interest in it in the "is it really that bad?' cult. There are too many doodads and weird things to mention (heh, goofy ugly twins) without just saying one should just see it for themselves in what they accomplished in macabre engagement. The 93 minute runtime just makes one want to see just what the hell was so weird that couldn't make it through for audiences to grit their teeth at. As a whole, it is a messy movie that deserved better, particularly with what ended up being on screen. Its creativity in the art of weirdness is one that should be celebrated when it comes to the grotesque more so than in comedy for a strange but worthwhile experience.

Overall, I give it 7 out of 10 stars.

Now up, state your case this time with: Mommie Dearest.

O.C. and Stiggs.

Review #2243: O.C. and Stiggs.

Cast: 

Daniel H. Jenkins (O.C.), Neill Barry (Mark Stiggs), Paul Dooley (Randall Schwab), Jane Curtin (Elinore Schwab), Jon Cryer (Randall Schwab, Jr), Laura Urstein (Lenore Schwab), Victor Ho (Frankie Tang), Ray Walston (Gramps), Donald May (Jack Stiggs), Carla Borelli (Stella Stiggs), Stephanie Elfrink (Missie Stiggs), Amanda Hull (Debbie Stiggs), James Gilsenan (Barney Beaugereaux), Tina Louise (Florence Beaugereaux), Cynthia Nixon (Michelle), Greg Wangler (Jefferson Washington), with Dennis Hopper (Sponson), Martin Mull (Pat Coletti), Melvin van Peebles (Wino Bob), Tiffany Helm (Charlotte), Dana Andersen (Robin), and Bob Uecker (himself) Directed by Robert Altman (#900 - Nashville, #1433 - M*A*S*H, #1890 - The Delinquents, #2061 - Health)

Review: 

"[O.C. and Stiggs] was about how two teenage boys spend their summer, and it was also about cultural anarchy. Teenage exploitation films were all the rage at the time… I agreed to do it because I hated teenage movies so much. I thought I could do it as a satire of a teenage movie. But of course, it was sold as a teenage movie. It was a suspect project from the beginning."

It is strange, I'm not actually that much of an expert on the filmmaking of Robert Altman and yet here we are with something a bit on the odd side for a filmmaker with such a long and winding road over the span of multiple decades. This strange time would come around particularly after the double-edged sword of 1980's Health and Popeye, neither, where the former barely had a release and the latter wasn't as successful with audiences or critics as one hoped. Afterwards, he did a handful of plays and TV productions to go with smaller-scale films, such as Come Back to the 5 & Dime, Jimmy Dean, Jimmy Dean (1982) and Streamers (1983). But O.C. and Stiggs would be an attempt to get back in Hollywood. ...which went a certain type of way. For context, O.C. and Stiggs were originally characters in stories written for National Lampoon magazine by Ted Mann and Tod Carroll, most notably with the 1982 story ""The Utterly Monstrous Mind-Roasting Summer of O.C. and Stiggs". One of the producers of this film was Peter Newman (who had been the production executive of the Jimmy Dean play that Altman had made into a film), who was interested in what he saw of the Stiggs stories. Newman had made an agreement to help produce the film, which would have had Mike Nichols eventually make the film after he finished his other commitments...and then one day Newman, in a conversation with Altman, found someone willing to do the film right then and there, complete with fast tracking for MGM because of their desperation for a teen-movie hit. It was shot in Arizona for MGM away from executives and screenwriters in 1983 that saw a party atmosphere (gambling, smoking pot, here is an informative article about that). While Mann and Carroll were given credit for the story, Carroll elected to take his name off the screenplay (which was credited to Mann and Donald Cantrell) for a film that Mann wasn't particularly big on anyway, calling it "of little interest and believe that the chatter of an ordinary street corner schizo is of equal weight and consequence." MGM hated the film in screenings done for the film in 1984 before limited screenings were eventually one in 1987. Of course, by 1987, Altman was already on the next thing, receiving some notice with Secret Honor (1984) to go along with subsequent notice with his TV production Tanner '88 alongside Vincent & Theo (1990) before his "comeback" with The Player (1992).

Sure, one could see the truth that Carroll and Mann had tried to seek out in their characters in "middle-class America" in a coming of age. Of course, I had a feeling that somehow, this film would remind me of Health (1980) in that "oh it seems kinda funny, but you just know only five people would like it in theaters". To see O.C. and Stiggs is to see a movie wrapped with plenty of seething amusement for the time and place it exists in. Imagine a film set in suburban Arizona of all godforsaken places and think that this would be a normal teen movie, although you do get a song courtesy of King Sunny Adé and His African Beats. Screw it, I kind of enjoyed this movie, which just manages to hit the sweet-spot when it comes to chaotic hellraisers. The few people that actually saw the movie upon release basically took the movie seriously without thinking of all the caricatures that are present in a world of self-absorbed weirdos (just get a look at the bomb shelter near the end). These folks really believe they are living the American Dream (consider one quote involving "Arkansas is one of the United States. All America is the same" coming from one of the parental figures to go alongside the other one that, well, is a bigot) that happens to have smug self-satisfied avengers for leads. It is a contorted and twisted film that happens to have a bevy of riches for its supporting cast (speaking of people in little-seen Altman films, Paul Dooley...) to support our two leads. It may seem mean, but the madcap bitterness is the point, and I think you could really interpret Mann's statement about the film as being bitter at being outclassed by a director who made a prank film at the expense of both writers and studio executives. Jenkins and Barry (each first-timer film stars) may not have ended up being a duo that had multiple films to engage in madcap stuff together, but I think they do pretty well together here. They smirk and engage with the world as if they were a trickster God, which actually seems pretty in line with what teenagers really seem to be to the ones around them: silly jerks with every-changing fashion sense (others probably had at least one person they treated like crap as a friend growing up anyway). The object of their bullying is Dooley, who is delightfully smarmy and amusing in the ways one would expect from a portrayal of a 1980s conservative in his suburban element, one that sees past the strangeness of his family in the known alcoholic to all but herself with Curtain and the stunted weirdo in Cryer to go along with a son-in-law who has the most decisive moment to finally speak after so many casual snipes at his Asian heritage. It is probably apt of something that Hopper appeared in this film the same year that he did a daredevil stunt in front of college students involving a chair and sticks of dynamite. Altman having Hopper doing a riff on the role he did in Apocalypse Now (1979) is crispy in its amusement, actually, one who gets to casually say lines such as calling guns a "disease" with worthwhile conviction, particularly when he gets to go loose for the climax. One sees plenty of presences of once and future presences in film/TV (such as a young bemused Nixon to go with a typically "on" Mull to go with a goofy codger in Walston), which probably takes the cake when one sees Bob Uecker ramble to essentially nobody for his cameo sequence. The 109-minute experience gives plenty of anarchy to see among the odd suburbanites (take one look at the places) that lands more often than not in Altman's practical joke among those looking for a typical teenage comedy in the 1980s without some sort of abject shot at society as one knows it.  I found this movie by the stupidest of ways, googling random films to maybe transfer over to USB (after finding a copy on the Internet) for later use (this goes along with "amusing" perspectives on obscure stuff). I can't say the film is for everyone, but if one manages to find this film (Internet or otherwise), I recommend seeing the film in all of its zany idiocy as an Altman movie wrapped in the underbelly of artificiality for delightful hit-or-miss entertainment.

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.

Next up: Time enough at last with Nothing But Trouble.

Dutch (1991).

Review #2242: Dutch.

Cast: 

Ed O'Neill (Dutch Dooley), Ethan Embry (Doyle Standish), JoBeth Williams (Natalie Standish), Christopher McDonald (Reed Standish), E.G. Daily (Hailey), Ari Meyers (Brock), L. Scott Caldwell (Homeless Woman), and Kathleen Freeman (Gritzi) Directed by Peter Faiman (#023 - Crocodile Dundee)

Review: 

Okay, I will admit that this one was on the list for quite a while because I couldn't quite figure out where to put it despite all of the appealing aspects: Ed O'Neill, Ed O'Neill, and Ed O'Neill. My favoritism for O'Neill is because he starred in the one show I remember most in my childhood of mostly antenna TV: reruns of Married...with Children (the film was released in the middle of the show's run on Fox). O'Neill actually was a football player in his time at Youngstown State University before being cut in Pittsburgh's NFL training camp in 1969; this led him to go back to Youngstown State to enroll in theater. His work on stage (a mix of Broadway and Off-Broadway stuff, most notably Of Mice and Men) drew enough notice for Fox to have him audition for Married...with Children that, well, you know the rest. Oh, and I suppose there might be a tiny compelling aspect for some in seeing what a John Hughes-written comedy looks like from the director of Crocodile Dundee (1986). The Melbourne native (from Victoria, Australia) Faiman had directed plenty of television before Dundee, which included The Don Lane Show, but Dutch (1991) is currently the only other theatrical film directed by Faiman. With Hughes, this was part of the consistent run in twelve years with at least one Hughes-penned film being released in theaters that went from National Lampoon's Class Reunion (1982) to Miracle on 34th Street (1994). So yes, for every Home Alone (1990), there was the stuff that, well, are about as known as Career Opportunities (1991). Dutch wasn't exactly a hit with audiences or critics, needless to say. My interest in the film sprung from one silly sight gag in an episode about renting a VHS tape that showed the poster for Dutch...with a "Free Video" sign right over one of the faces. Strangely enough, O'Neill and Embry would pair up once more with the ill-fated 2003 TV rendition of Dragnet. 

Sure, why not have a movie with a "great, big, demented child" and a "spoiled worm" in a mishmash of Planes, Trains, and Automobiles (a Hughes production, released four years earlier involving making it home before Thanksgiving)? Look, I can't really cite the film as an underrated gem in normal parameters, but "John Hughes' greatest hits" is sort of a blessing and curse in the same sentence. I play my favorites because damn it, I like O'Neill and his rascal talent in making a lovable brute that is familiar in the ways I like to think about every now and then. It reminded me of the one time I went on a trip with my dad (who along with my mom was a Married with Children fan, and my mom still loves to say "Bundy up" when interested in watching an episode on DVD) before he passed away that involved plenty of driving and a few of the mishaps that come with "best-laid plans". The one thing I remember best is a mishap that resulted in driving through California when trying to get to Oregon as opposed to going through Nevada (the return trip was better, but going through Arizona again is an experience not worth thinking about). I wasn't nearly as stuck-up as the kid in the film, but I was an idiot fourteen-year-old who probably wished he took more time to savor the moments that came on the road with a father that was shall we say, the kind of guy who would drive to a hospital on a broken hip rather than think about taking an ambulance. I appreciate O'Neill and his charming nature that is earthy in a way that could play a hustler or would-be dad without uttering a false note. I contend that weary concoction of honesty and pig-headed pride is endearing without just being an Al Bundy clone. Embry has the hardest task imaginable in playing a snob with layers to peel away, and I would say he does fine in that regard, because even predictable shows of humility is better than nothing. For a road movie built on bickering and goofs (i.e. maybe 2% cartoonish), the two make an ideal pairing that I would argue just straddles above the line between chuckles and hokum. The rest of the cast, as one probably expects from a buddy film, isn't really given much to do beyond a few one-note things (with McDonald being the highlight as the obvious brash setup man), although no one drags it too much (I would say though that by the time the film gets to the homeless shelter, it sure is pushing its luck). It is a bit too casual to really ever get to the category of "good" when it comes to ambition in a familiar genre, but liking the journey is what I was hoping for and got without too many bumps. As a whole, Dutch is the kind of carefree film with cozy familiarity that either will fit right in for a casual viewing or ends up being dismissed as, well, something you've felt like you have seen one too many times. I fall in the former category, finding it to be just fine in the overall result that has an ideal leading presence to make for worthwhile chuckles. It isn't anything great, but it surely deserved better than to be washed away as just an unsuccessful attempt at getting a sitcom star their own film. 

Overall, I give it 7 out of 10 stars.

Next up: Robert Altman's O.C. and Stiggs.

Radioland Murders.

Review #2241: Radioland Murders.

Cast: 

Brian Benben (Roger Henderson), Mary Stuart Masterson (Penny Henderson), Scott Michael Campbell (Billy Budge), Michael Lerner (Lieutenant Cross), Ned Beatty (General Walt Whalen), Brion James (Bernie King), Stephen Tobolowsky (Max Applewhite), Michael McKean (Rick Rochester), Corbin Bernsen (Dexter Morris), Bobcat Goldthwait (Wild Writer), Anita Morris (Claudette Katzenback), Jeffrey Tambor (Walt Whalen Jr), Larry Miller (Herman Katzenback), Christopher Lloyd (Zoltan), Harvey Korman (Jules Cogley), and Dylan Baker (Detective Jasper) Directed by Mel Smith.

Review: 

Believe it or not, I have had this film very, very, very loosely on the radar for years. Here's a good question for you folks: would you believe that this film had George Lucas as a writer? Among the fifteen films where he has been credited as a writer (story or otherwise), it probably goes without saying this is the most obscure of the group. Lucas thought of the story for the film around the time he had developed American Graffiti, which if one remembers was released in 1973 (Lucas equated the friendship had in the film between the kids and the disc jockey to a phenomenon that Radioland would explore further when it comes to radio infused with fantasy). The co-writers of that film in Gloria Katz and Willard Huyck were asked by Lucas to work on the script for the film, which in the mind of Lucas was meant to be aimed as a homage to films such as Who Done It (the Abbott and Costello film from 1942); strangely enough, if one looks up this film on Wikipedia, it lists two other films involving murders at a radio station. The success of films such as Star Wars (1977) among other things kept Lucas busy, but eventually he came back to the idea of a film based on his interests in old-time radio, once stating that "You can trace radio back to the old storytellers around the fire. It's been lost over the years." By the time of the 1990s, one could utilize computer technology for their films, and this apparently is one that really used it to distinct usage, such as the sights in the exterior of the main building the film takes place to go along with select interior walls to go with a certain shot for the climax. Jeff Reno and Ron Osborn (best known for their work on the TV show Moonlighting) were hired to deliver re-writes to the script, evidently under the request of Universal Pictures. The director was Mel Smith, who had done plenty of work within sketch comedy in his native England prior to directing his first film with The Tall Guy (1989), which Lucas liked. The result was a production that had plenty of rushed work near its ending stages, with Lucas apparently doing some unit work alongside Smith. One description of the film was "cinematic pickup sticks." The film, once budgeted for $10 million that eventually rose to $15 million as a Lucasfilm production for Universal, came and went into theaters to incredibly small audience turnout. Smith directed three further films before his death in 2013 at the age of 60, most notably with Bean (1997).

Why don't we be a little nice for a moment when it comes to a movie now three decades old: there are gags in it that are worth a chuckle (heh, radio will never die...), and it is actually a bit interesting to figure what is an special effect in a movie that one wouldn't expect to need many effects, which make for a curious eye (or what have you) on the chase at times. It looks like a radio production for worthwhile decor. One gets a slight chuckle at seeing George Burns basically play himself for one last film bit (incidentally, Burns, playing a 100-year-old comedian for a bit, would die in 1996 at the age of 100). Now, where were we? You don't usually see it happen, but this is one of those sad, sad, sad times where you can see just where a film is about to die that makes one really understand the meaning of "death by a thousand cuts". I feared it would happen late in the 108-minute runtime but nope, this is a movie that either ropes you in with its barrage of slapstick and zany nature or makes you internally scream for it to shut up and breathe. It tries to be quick in pace with its 1939 setting that tries to make one interested in the workings of its radio trappings and the growing murder mystery...and it really strains credibility once you wonder why it couldn't just have been one or the other instead of this miserable mishmash. See, one really wants to like these people and the strange quirks that come with a soundman being played by the most lucid actor possible in Lloyd or the goofy military-stylings of Beatty...and then one gets to the leads and finds the charm levels are essentially right down the tube. It doesn't seem particularly fair to denigrate Masterson (then known for roles such as Immediate Family [1989]) and Benben (the then star of the HBO sitcom Dream On), because surely, they were at least game to do the gags with quick timing and the routine I'm sure you would expect of a once burning romance. But with Benben and his preening mugging in a role that is meant to be funny in its comedy of circumstance (get it? he happens to be around when murders keep happening? eh?!), you can't craft a winner when essentially stuck in a pit with a plastic spoon when Masterson is essentially left adrift to try and match. The sitcom-level dynamic just comes off as noise bereft of life. Even seeing Lerner there makes one sad because if you're going to see someone play a familiar role, you sure as hell want it to be in something more rewarding (Goldthwait somehow makes his performance in Scrooged seem subtle). Campbell isn't even on the level of a goofy Baker while poor Tobolowsky is merely ordinary until the film remembers it has a mystery to solve. By the time the film lumbers to the end of who did what and why to go with how and where it will go, you are gladder that it has ceased transmission. In trying to capture what one thinks the screwball was all about in the realm of rapid-fire construction, being outclassed by previous throwback attempts like Oscar (1991) is a sad state of mind to be in. With middling interest in characters that don't win one's attention for an overcooked script, one can only find pity within a film that never really had a chance.

Overall, I give it 6 out of 10 stars.

Next up: Hell, come on down Dutch.

Cutthroat Island.

Review #2240: Cutthroat Island.

Cast: 

Geena Davis (Morgan Adams), Matthew Modine (William Shaw), Frank Langella (Douglas "Dawg" Brown), Maury Chaykin (John Reed), Patrick Malahide (Ainslee), Stan Shaw (Glasspoole), Rex Linn (Mr. Blair), Paul Dillon (Snelgrave), Chris Masterson (Bowen), Jimmie F. Skaggs (Tom Scully), Harris Yulin ("Black" Harry Adams) and Angus Wright (Trotter) Directed by Renny Harlin (#016 - Die Hard 2, #670 - Cliffhanger, #745 - A Nightmare on Elm Street 4: The Dream Master and #2163 - The Adventures of Ford Fairlane)

Review: 

Not all failures are created equal, but I'm sure you already know that. It isn't so much that the film was hated by audiences (barely anybody saw it), it was the fact that you don't get that many films labeled as "studio killers". The original idea for the film was sprung by James Gorman and Michael Frost Beckner, who had wanted to make a modernized pirate genre film involving hunting down folks for pieces of a map for adventure. That idea was presented and bought by Carolco Pictures. You might remember that Carolco (as originally founded by Mario Kassar and Andrew G. Vajna) was the production company involved in films such as First Blood (1982) and Terminator 2: Judgement Day (1991) but they had bet badly on their spending to the point of teetering debt. Cutthroat Island would be their last big-budget gasp (after selling the rights to other films in production such as Showgirls (1995), strangely enough), and it came out in the winter of 1995, one month after the studio filed for bankruptcy protection. It should be noted that six writers were credited by the time the film was finished (Bruce A. Evans & Raynold Gideon for the story alongside Gorman & Beckner to go with Robert King & Marc Norman for the screenplay). Any chance for a well-adjusted budget feature of swashbuckling with stars went right down with hiring Renny Harlin, who actually was running on the heels of films such as Cliffhanger (1993). It was he who casted his wife (Academy Award winner Geena Davis) into ideas of being an action-adventure star that managed to turn the idea of pairing her with Michael Douglas (who did not want to play second fiddle) into one where she was instead paired with Matthew Modine (he can fence!). This, alongside massive delays in shooting (Oliver Reed was supposed to do a cameo, take one guess what happened) and re-writes and you have the recipe for a movie that maybe, maybe not, deserves to be looked at under the hood beyond just saying it is a flop.  

Take this with a grain of salt: it is about exactly what you think would be in a pirate film for the kid at heart. It is right in the sweet spot of having craftsmanship show in each scene when it comes to crafting sequences with the look (sword fight or otherwise) ...but I'll be damned if I can really defend the movie beyond shrugging my shoulders and saying, "it worked for me". Pirate films just aren't the thing I really do much of (one has the choice of "Treasure Island" adaptations, or something based on theme parks), but I can say that the swashbuckler level is on the level I was hoping for. It may be hokey, it may be silly, but it doesn't bullshit itself in acts of contortion (i.e. the film has folks that at least look like they don't want to crawl into a hole and stay there). I will give the credit to Davis (and others who had to do stunts, when possible, clearly) when it comes to rolling along with the punches of serviceable pulp that is right at "looks like they can kick someone's ass" type of home. The nicest thing to say about Modine is that at least some of the quips are tolerable, but if you imagine that the role was supposed to be a riff on flipping the usual "rescue time in adventure" thing, it kind of works better. Undeniably, Langella shines above the rest because he is clearly having a ball with such an over-the-top villainous role (sure, he may have killed a few relatives, but at least he wasn't the one cutting someone's scalp...for a map piece). Who else could play a scene involving cutting down mouths to feed on a ship by just casually blasting a guy away than Langella (and his pleasant timing)? His coarse nature is at least the setup to a useful conflict with Davis when it comes to "PIRATE-fight" for the climax, and I think you get exactly what you pay for with the ending, which has a magnificent exploding ship. The other castmates are fair and fine for what is needed, although it amuses me that most of the folks that face peril or death are either in cameo form or in the case of certain folks are just flayed. John Debney's music score (particularly in the opening) might actually be the best thing of the whole film, which really does get the ball rolling in a positive direction. I can't say the movie does anything completely new for its genre, but I found myself chuckling with it in those familiar setups and payoffs because it clearly has a zest to just run. I never found it trying my patience or packed with any big detracting marks on it, and I would say that makes for a relatively comfortable experience. It's a neatly flawed movie that could mark the spot for worthwhile entertainment if one is hooked by the end result of timbers shivered, which I think is the case here. 

Overall, I give it 7 out of 10 stars. 

Next up: No joke, Radioland Murders.

Oscar (1991).

Review #2239: Oscar (1991).

Cast: 

Sylvester Stallone (Angelo "Snaps" Provolone), Ornella Muti (Sofia Provolone), Peter Riegert (Aldo), Tim Curry (Dr. Thornton Poole), Vincent Spano (Anthony Rossano), Marisa Tomei (Lisa Provolone), Elizabeth Barondes (Theresa), Eddie Bracken (Five-Spot Charlie), Linda Gray (Roxanne), Chazz Palminteri (Connie), Don Ameche (Father Clemente), Kurtwood Smith (Lt. Toomey), William Atherton (Overton), Art LaFleur (Officer Quinn), Robert Lesser (Officer Keough), Yvonne De Carlo (Aunt Rosa), Martin Ferrero (Luigi Finucci), Harry Shearer (Guido Finucci), with Richard Romanus (Vendetti), and Kirk Douglas (Eduardo) Directed by John Landis (#328 - Trading Places, #410 - Coming to America, #513 - Spies Like Us, #1114 - Animal House, #1462 - The Blues Brothers, #1465 - An American Werewolf in London, #1699 - Blues Brothers 2000, #1718 - The Stupids, #2026 - Twilight Zone: The Movie)

Review: 

"Oscar is a farce set in 1931, sort of Damon Runyon meets Feydeau. I shot the picture in a deliberately stylized manner, attempting a thirties Hollywood comedy look and feel (Peter Riegart, at one point, actually says, Why I oughta...)"

 

Sure, I had this on my mind for a few years. How could one not be interested in a film with a director and actor passing through different tides of their career? It was the film Stallone appeared in right after the first perceived end of the Rocky series with Rocky V [1990] while for Landis it was the first of a string of, well, six films with little-to-no appreciation in the 1990s (which includes The Stupids [1996], a movie I heartedly defend). The film is a remake of the 1967 film of the same name, as originally directed by Édouard Molinaro (which in turn was based on a play by Claude Magnier). The key difference between the two Oscars is that the Landis one is set in the 1930s rather than being a contemporary comedy of errors; Landis wasn't exactly a stranger to screwy comedies, as evidenced by Trading Places (1983), for example. The film was written by Michael Barrie and Jim Mulholland, who actually had written for the comedy skit anthology film Amazon Women on the Moon (1987) to go with years and years of TV comedy writing. The movie was neither a hit with audiences or critics, with the common remark being that audiences apparently were not willing to go with Stallone in a non-action role (apparently, a test audience member actually wondered when Stallone was going to take off his shirt and start blasting people). Of course, Landis and Stallone do not shy away from talking about the film and its distinct place when it comes to actors trying to play against type (particularly when compared to Stallone in say, Rhinestone [1984] or the film that immediately followed Oscar with Stop! Or My Mom Will Shoot [1992])

I don't really understand how people didn't like this film. Was it really that hard to see Sylvester Stallone (who was cast in the film after Al Pacino came and went because Dick Tracy offered more money) do comedy? Really? Sure, the "Around the rugged rocks the ragged rascals ran" bit may have been familiar to some folks, but was it really hard to see how it could be played for worthwhile amusement with Stallone there to say it? Of course, Tango & Cash (1989) was sort of a funny movie that I appreciated with Stallone, so maybe broad It is a gangster film without any violence that confines itself to one location for most of its runtime (109 minutes) with a cast packed to the gills in names to see for later (and those that weren't as much) in support around Stallone that do the type of hit-or-miss comedy that is just about screwy enough to work. It is delightfully manufactured weirdness that contorts itself for a few delightful moments. Stallone isn't asked to do too much broad comedy here, but he clearly is game to play along with the idea of "civility" packed in a suit that handles the ever-growing confusion of daughters and cases with charm (I'm not sure if I agree with his musing that he should've played it "incredibly cynical"). Riegert and Palminteri accompany Stallone at times with their own goofy type of charm (one snide and one in constant confusion), which is delightful in the best ways possible. Go figure that Curry nails his enunciation act right then and there with dignified timing and (wait for it) charm to spare. Tomei is quite amusing in flapper attitude that is fiery in that momentary sparkplug of goofiness. It should be noted that Tomei was cast in My Cousin Vinny (1992) because the filmmakers for that film were invited to the set by Landis and liked what they saw of her acting in a scene, so that's one person who really benefitted from this film. For all the credit one can give to Stallone or others, Spano unfortunately draws the shortest stick, because he isn't particularly interesting enough to keep being in the film to draw attempts at what I think should be humor but is the equivalent of a vacant stare (Muti and Barondes narrowly miss the shortest stick). Others get less to nibble on but are neat for those who like certain faces or sounds in say, eagle-bleary-eyed Smith or the small double act of Ferrero and Shearer. The film drifts in and out with wry enjoyment at being a quirky flashback that I enjoyed more often than not with its dedicated cast engaged to make silly entertainment that is sincere enough to merit a look for the curious at heart.

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars. 

Next up: Debt 1, Pirates 0 in Cutthroat Island.