You're a Big Boy Now.

Review #2560: You're a Big Boy Now.

Cast: 

Elizabeth Hartman (Barbara Darling), Peter Kastner (Bernard Chanticleer), Geraldine Page (Margery Chanticleer), Rip Torn (I.H. Chanticleer), Tony Bill (Raef del Grado), Julie Harris (Miss Nora Thing), Karen Black (Amy Partlett), Dolph Sweet (Patrolman Francis Graf), Michael Dunn (Richard Mudd), and Michael O'Sullivan (Kurt Doughty) Directed by Francis Ford Coppola (#592 - Dementia 13, #1139 - Supernova, #1460 - Apocalypse Now, #1469 - The Outsiders, #1502 - Bram Stoker's Dracula)

Review:

"You're a Big Boy Now is a flashy movie to some extent. I have since been more subtle than that. But flashy films do attract attention, and that was what I wanted to do when I was making my first film for a studio."

Maybe I haven't been fair to Francis Ford Coppola. The story goes that Coppola wrote a screenplay when working for Seven Arts that was a different take on the "coming of age" movie that was based on the David Benedictus novel You're a Big Boy Now. Coppola had the novel brought to his attention by Tony Bill (incidentally, he wanted to play the lead but also suggested Peter Kastner, because of what he saw in Nobody Waved Good-bye [1964]). He optioned the novel and changed the setting from London to New York City (going from shoe clerk to library assistant) while at the same time working with Gore Vidal on the screenplay for Is Paris Burning? [1966]. Seven Arts, asserting that Coppola's writing of the script on their time meant that they owned it, eventually came to a deal with him that would pay Coppola $8,000 to direct with a 29-day shooting schedule; he used the resulting movie as his thesis at UCLA for his Master of Fine Arts degree. Made on a budget that eventually rose to around $1 million around various locations in New York, the film was not a major success at the time, although it apparently broke even when it was sold to television.* Coppola worked with Warner Bros.-Seven Arts for his next two films with Finian's Rainbow (1968) and The Rain People (1969).

I could not help but think about The Gr-no, wait, not really. Actually, I couldn't get Dementia 13 out of my head when I thought about Coppola and the youthful energy of trying to make a go at filmmaking on a tight schedule and why it felt so much more interesting in that film than with this brash, messy, and altogether curious studio movie. And I then guess someone would compare it to The Graduate, which also was a coming-of-age movie with a young man and the alienation of his parents' generation that was released the following year*. And then I think about the lead character and wonder to myself: why do I hate this little bastard at times? Yes, there are a few hang-ups that actually do prove amusing, but there were almost as many times where I felt the strange desire to wish that Mr. Chanticleer took a nice smack upside on the head, funny as he might be. But you can at least say it is curious enough to free-form its way through an odyssey of someone learning to get a clue in the swinging era of what 1966 surely looked like (complete with peep shows, oddly placed signs*, and, well, pretzels). Amidst the consternation that one might have for some of these ridiculously repressed people, filled with frustrations at times, is an array of interesting performances. Sentimentally, Torn is the one I spring to first (much like oldie songs, I don't have many new favorites), and he actually is pretty funny here as a befuddled parent who thinks they know best in running their son basically like they were a business, complete with their varied responses to the women around them (staid wives, or messing around in a vault with odd books, you get the idea). The journey to get to the inevitable is fairly tolerable in seeing some of the hang-ups play out on screen, whether that involves a man-hating Hartman (to a point*) or the obvious cool loyalty in Black (making her screen debut) or Page in a role that probably could be defined as an amusing "shrew". At least it ends with a chase scene to help crash things down to some sort of reality (namely realizing what really matters between odd duck family and friends). You get a few interesting camera tricks, a few interesting moments looking at a New York movie with a worthy enough soundtrack involving the Lovin' Spoonful. As a whole, it is a strange little time capsule of an older time filled with a few interesting visuals, here-and-there jokes and a general vibe fit for hang-ups and hanger-ons that might be up your alley.

Overall, I give it 7 out of 10 stars.

Song of the day!

*I'll be honest, I haven't thought about The Graduate much since I saw it exactly one time...12 years ago. Strange that I didn't feel like strangling Dustin Hoffman's character nearly as much as the one presented here. 

*I couldn't find a direct source, but Coppola stated that his film was definitely influenced by Richard Lester's A Hard Day's Night (1964), as opposed to The Knack... and How to Get It (1965), which was released a few months before Big Boy. Of course, I wish for a direct quote because Coppola also apparently said he hated the movie.

*One sign has the N-word in it that naturally the lead character reads out loud, and no the word is not naive.

*Also, this may come as a surprise, but the Hartman character is depicted as a man-hating narcissist that was shaped by their molestation as a youth that saw them get revenge in a way that totally makes sense: stealing his wooden leg!

Sisters (1972).

Review #2139: Sisters.

Cast: 

Margot Kidder (Danielle Breton / Dominique Blanchion), Jennifer Salt (Grace Collier), William Finley (Emil Breton), Charles Durning (Joseph Larch), Lisle Wilson (Phillip Woode), Barnard Hughes (Arthur McLennen), Mary Davenport (Mrs. Peyson Collier), and Dolph Sweet (Detective Kelly) Directed by Brian De Palma (#801 - Mission: Impossible, #1230 - Carrie, #1471 - Scarface)

Review: 

“I always said that film lies 24 times a second. That’s the antithesis of what Jean-Luc Godard said, that it’s truth 24 per second. That’s nonsense! Film lies all of the time.”

It's easy to say a director can come anywhere. Raised in a family that were in his words, “egotists who didn’t care what damage they were doing”, Brian De Palma was born in New Jersey but raised in Pennsylvania and New Hampshire. He had an interest in building computers before studying physics at Columbia University. However, he became more interested in film after seeing movies such as Citizen Kane and Vertigo. He finished his studies at Columbia to move on to study at Sarah Lawrence College in the theater department. A friendship with an actor in his aspiring days in Robert De Niro led to the shooting of De Palma's first feature with The Wedding Party, a film shot in 1963 but only released in 1969 (which meant that it served as his "third" film due to Murder a la Mod and Greetings being released in 1968). Get to Know Your Rabbit (1972) was his first venture with the Hollywood system and was a comedy like most of his previous five efforts, but it was not a major success. This film was shown first in late 1972 but did not have a full release until 1973. The screenplay was done by De Palma and Louisa Rose while De Palma did the story. Spearheaded by Edward R. Pressman as producer with a budget of $500,000 with distribution by American International Pictures, the film was a fair hit for its time and has managed to receive further attention with the resulting career that followed for De Palma that went from Phantom of the Paradise (1974) and Obsession (1976) to, well, Carrie (1976). Whether called a psychological thriller or horror film, screw it, this one counts for whatever category you want.

Incidentally, for a film that involves a good deal of voyeurism, De Palma has stated in later years that he would secretly follow his father around to record his adulterous habits when he was young. Of course, the actual inspiration came from his reading of an article in Life magazine in 1966 that detailed the lives of the Soviet conjoined twins Masha and Dasha Krivoshlyapova, specifically with their psychological makeup as they grew older (of course, since they were born in 1950, the Soviets did a variety of things in "the interests of science", which namely involved the scientists tricked their mother into believing the twins were dead to they could serve as research subjects). It is interesting to consider the elements that sound familiar to Alfred Hitchcock, whether that involves Rear Window (1954) or Psycho (1960), only with some use of split-screen composition that was used in a handful of films of the time (such as Carrie). This is the kind of "homage" that seems ripe for critics to love, I think, because it means they don't have to confront much in the way of gore and therefore they can't be labeled as just being anti-homage when they see something that harkens to the past when it comes to something with a bit more gore and call it "derivative". For me, this is basically Rosemary's Baby (1968) all over again, where it is more about reputation more than anything, at least when one considers the moments when the film actually gets to the point where I appreciate it best (of course, this is a 92-minute film). De Palma apparently gave the script as a "Christmas present" to Kidder, who at one time shared a house with Salt. The "French-Canadian" accent is a result of Kidder not being able to pull off a Swedish accent. It is an odd performance to say the least, mostly because we are viewing a double-sided coin of doubt and curiosity, which is touch and go once you get past that buildup sequence of her and Wilson. Besides her is the focus on Salt, the would-be digger of trying to figure out what the audience has already viewed (all she has to go on is seeing one little note of help). Her part works as an exasperatingly amusing view on the usual go-and-look type of mystery that you usually see in these films (only without that character usually being pestered about marriages by people like Davenport). Finlay makes up the mystery part of the film, which is most important for the climax because, well, hell, if you've read this far, you'll probably guess that someone has to play a part in lending some exposition to just how literal that film title is. When the film reaches that point where it has to lend a few pointers your way of just what is where and who is what is when the film has managed to reach its high point in delirium for actual tension, which is probably made funnier (or unsettling, take your pick) by that last exchange of words to go with the last view of a film all about the view and the person taking it. Call it a commentary about women or just a film that likes to dwell on watching, the general enjoyment of the film comes from how effective the homage to Hitchcock goes for you. I would say it is a good flick to view as an early example of what is to come for De Palma for sly filmmaking. 

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.

Next: Spiral (1998). No, really.