Redux: Die Hard.

Redux Review #014: Die Hard.

Cast: 

Bruce Willis (John McClane), Alan Rickman (Hans Gruber), Alexander Godunov (Karl), Bonnie Bedelia (Holly Gennaro-McClane), Reginald VelJohnson (Al Powell), Paul Gleason (Dwayne T. Robinson), De'voreaux White (Argyle), William Atherton (Richard Thornburg), Clarence Gilyard (Theo), Hart Bochner (Harry Ellis), and James Shigeta (Joseph Takagi) Directed by John McTiernan.

Review: 

From my review on December 22, 2010: 

This film brings exuberant joy and all the fun and bang in a 2-hour action packed film set on Christmas Eve. The acting is alright considering this an action film an all, with fine action and some decent suspense. Willis is the standout with a decent performance that would jump-start his career. This film would begin a franchise, which I will attempt to cover soon.

It's one of the best action films ever made. How much is there to say about Die Hard in the 35 years that have passed since its release? How many times can one watch the film and find new ways and things to examine? Well, you would be surprised. I actually can't believe I only thought the film was just a 9/10 as a teenager, particularly since it was one of those films that endure in the memory for quite some time. Probably one thing that didn't come to mind the first time I saw it is that it was actually based on a 1979 novel called Nothing Lasts Forever by Roderick Thorp (a writer who also dabbled in a detective agency in his youth). The author had written the book as a follow-up to his previous procedural novel in The Detective, with this being inspired by a dream he had about men chasing each other through a building...after he had saw the 1974 film The Towering Inferno. I'm sure you can see those similarities and differences pop up: an aging ex-NYPD detective is being chased by terrorists (led by a man named "Tony the Red" Gruber) and tries to save his daughter (a Ms. Gennaro) through stunts such as crawling through ducts while LAPD cops can only listen to him on the radio (the book is told all in POV of the detective). Jeb Stuart was tasked to write a screenplay with that in mind (as proposed to him by Lloyd Levin, who had been trying to get development done for it at 20th Century Fox), which would be pitched as "Rambo in a building". Of course, for Stuart, the real big thing to making it a useful screenplay was as he put it, "about a thirty-year-old who should have said he’s sorry to his wife and something really bad happens.” Written with undertones of thriller and the Western genres, Fox went right in with this for a target of Summer 1988, although Steven E. de Souza was tasked with doing a few re-writes as an experienced writer of blending action and comedy. de Souza (a Philadelphia native) went from story editing in television to producing TV to film writing with stuff such as Arnold's Wrecking Co. (1973), 48 Hrs. (1982), and Commando (1985). Lawrence Gordon and Joel Silver produced the film and had such a good time with John McTiernan when he did Predator (1987) for them that he was brought in to direct this film, provided that he put "some joy in it". It was the third theatrical film for the director and a hit that he returned to for the third film of what became a franchise: Die Hard 2 (1990), Die Hard with a Vengeance (1995), Live Free or Die Hard (2007), and A Good Day to Die Hard (2013).

Everywhere you look and listen with this film is a success on every level, particularly for its genre. 132 minutes never has seemed so swift for a fun thriller that is so crisp in its execution that it could be watched on any day of the year. You could just make a list of people to give credit for it being a success that would seem like a laundry list that goes from McTiernan to the cinematographer in Jan de Bont (himself a future action director) to music cues from Michael Kamen (who initially resisted the idea of McTiernan to have Beethoven's Symphony No. 9) to Stuart & de Souza to a well-rounded cast from top to bottom that grows upon every viewing. Willis (born in West Germany but raised in New Jersey) had exactly two film credits: Blind Date (1987) and Sunset (1988) to go with his most prominent role as an actor at that time in the TV show Moonlighting, which had run from 1985 to early 1989 (the production of the film and the last episodes of the show were an ordeal to film back-to-back for Willis, obviously). The laundry list of people who rejected the lead role before Willis could make its own comedy: Arnold Schwarzenegger, Burt Reynolds, Al Pacino, etc, etc. Willis is basically playing a Western hero that would be right at home for those who like High Noon (1952), complete with that interesting sense of vulnerability that comes through in all of the obscenities and observations. He does kick ass, but he is also one man left to dig out of the mud, and this makes for a compelling action thriller. If it was only him, the film would be pretty good, but having Rickman there to counter Willis with his composed nature of cutting charm and style is the best thing imaginable. He was a Tony Award-nominated actor in his forties that had to get over his doubts of having this serve as his debut into film. Can you think of a better background to go with a film debut like this? I sure can't think of many. He walks through the film with such sharp timing and dress sense (standing out from the others, which includes a former ballet dancer-turned-actor in Godunov) that can even make a solid attempt at an American accent. The highlight scene is a tough one to nail down, because he maneuvers the thriller angle with no sense of drying away from what could've just been nailed-down cliches from lesser actors so well. I think the scene where he is listing "demands" involving freeing a bunch of prisoners as if he was reading them off a magazine that he happened to glance at is probably him at his peak in terms of commanding presence and illusion without turning it into just a routine. Sure, there are plenty of action films to enjoy when it comes to the routines of slam-bang things or choice phrases, but one cherishes those character-driven ones so much more when you really do care about how it all goes down in stakes and in execution. With such time spent to praise Willis and Rickman, it might be easy to say they dominate over the other cast members. But they prove just as special in support when it comes to that specific nature of balance with Willis (and because of the nature of filming and in general when it comes to the rewrites). VelJohnson and Gleason make watching the terror down below matter in perspective when it comes to doubts and fears. One needs those vocal interactions between VelJohnson and Willis to accentuate the struggle that comes in "one vs. the world" to make it all matter just as much as seeing Bedelia react to the dread building around her or a blowhard in relief with the immeasurable Gleason and Atherton. Simply put: you might be able to assemble an entertaining film of some kind even if you split the cast in two. Like an inferno, it burns to a fever pitch that can't be extinguished easily or copied so easily. The irony of a pitch of "Rambo in a building" for this film is that its success would see other films being likened as "Die Hard on a [X]" when it came to an everyman dealing with terror on say, a bus or a battleship. In the end, this is a wonderful film for the season of anytime because it is timeless and effective on every level required, from its lead actors to its director to its sense of scale and sense of timing that makes you remember why you find the need to go back to it every now and then as you would expect from a classic.

Overall, I give it 10 out of 10 stars.

Merry Christmas, everyone.

Lost Horizon (1973).

Review #1601: Lost Horizon.

Cast: 

Peter Finch (Richard Conway), Liv Ullmann (Catherine), Sally Kellerman (Sally Hughes), George Kennedy (Sam Cornelius), Michael York (George Conway), Olivia Hussey (Maria), Bobby Van (Harry Lovett), James Shigeta (Brother To-Lenn), Charles Boyer (the High Lama), John Gielgud (Chang), and Kent Smith (Bill Fergunson) Directed by Charles Jarrott.

Review: 

"A picture of hope, of faith with a spiritual quality. We all need that with the pressures of the world... Everyone's looking for a place that has peace and security."

Sometimes one does not know where to start and stop in their pursuit of a movie Shangri-La. The 1933 novel by James Hilton (who had eight of his works turned into films), had been adapted into a film previously by Frank Capra in 1937. While it was generally received well at the time, it did not recover its $2 million budget for a few years. Incidentally, the same year that this film was released, the 1937 film was first being restored by the American Film Institute. The funny thing is that there is so many hands here known for better things. We have past and future Academy Award winners with Kennedy, Finch, and Gielgud. We have a B-movie actor-turned-dialogue director-turned producer in Ross Hunter that was known for films like Pillow Talk (1959), Thoroughly Modern Millie (1967), and Airport (1970). We have a director in Jarrot that received a fair bit of notice with Anne of the Thousand Days (1969) and Mary, Queen of Scots (1971). Composer Burt Bacharach and Hal David were a classic partnership in contributing songs together. And then...Hunter never produced another theatrical film after this, while Bacharach and David never worked together again. At least writer Larry Kramer (writer for Women in Love (1969)) came out of the affair well, in the sense that the money for doing it helped keep afloat for several years (he would become a playwright the year this film was released along with activism in the gay community alongside AIDS awareness).

An adventure can be tough at 150 minutes, but this is a musical fantasy adventure, which means one is in for incredible pain if it is done terribly. Would you be surprised to hear that this did not prove well with audiences? Bette Midler called it "Lost Her-Reason", and there isn't much in the film to argue against that. For the first thirty (or so) minutes, one is seeing a straight-laced adventure, as it has to set up its trappings and characters with clichés-I mean personality with flaws to inevitably confront later on. In that sense, it probably could have been an interesting adventure film that could have updated itself with finding a place of inner peace with the secrets that lurk within. And then Gielgud shows up, fur costume and all, to help usher them into their strange little utopia, complete with a re-used set (castle) from Camelot (1967). There might be a chance at a scene involving characters having a conversation, whether that involves a thought process over meeting the Lama or just about why it may be futile to think about smuggling gold out of paradise. Of course that can't happen, because it is a musical of the worst kind: one that doesn't know when to shut up. Simply put, the songs aren't too particularly interesting, the music to go alongside it is too sickeningly sweet to go alongside the fact that only three actors actually sung their lines (Kellerman, Shigmata, and Van). Of all the things to make a musical, why would you take an adventure like this and make a musical of it? The funny thing is that this was already tried: In 1956, the book was turned into a musical in Shangri-La (with Hilton credited for co-contribution to the book and lyrics), where it promptly ran for 21 performances on Broadway. The film was the last of a line of musicals that received a roadshow release, done after the boom of films like Mary Poppins, My Fair Lady, and so on (Pete's Dragon (1977) was evidently the last one to have such release).

I hope Finch (noted for films like A Town Like Alice (1956) and Sunday Bloody Sunday (1971)) liked what he saw from being the head of a dignified mess. After all, most of his "songs" are through internal monologue, for which he isn't singing them, but that's...better than the others? Worse? It is wooden all the way, but that is technically better than the star-studded clunkers following him. Ullmann (famous for a variety of roles, mostly with director Ingmar Bergman) acts in theory with the idea of sweet charm, dancing her way through dubbed songs with stiffness expected from casting non-musical actors for a musical. Now, now, Kellerman did in fact do her own singing and dancing, but that doesn't exactly leave her with more dignity in a Saturday school special type of acting fit for such a silly character, one that looks like she wants to be anywhere else but here. Kennedy is just as baffling, because one would almost think they should have tried for camp, but yet here we are with strange choices all the way through. York plays the strangest character present in both book and film: the skeptic, which he doesn't do well with in the least, probably because however legitimate his concerns with an obvious utopia are, he can't really do much with actually carrying this to anything worthwhile - besides, he is meant to be the brother of Finch's character, and the age difference between them is 26 years (!) - they might as well have been playing father-and-son. Hussey (most famous from Romeo and Juliet (1968), a film long sought to cover) falls to the wayside in silliness, mostly because one is more curious to see how the effect will go when the secretly elder one will age outside of the mountain...it ultimately reminds me of a peanut, which is pretty amusing. At least Van, a musical actor known for productions like No, No, Nanette and others for two decades, is somewhat right for what is needed in comic relief and singing, although one almost wonders if he would've been better as the lead somehow. Shigeta (who also did his singing like Kellerman and Van as a pioneer for leads for Asian Americans alongside TV and singing) seems sorely lacking, one who needs more to do than to just help shepherd these bread-like personalities through utopia silliness. This was the third-to-last role for Boyer, acting in a chair to some effect for like five minutes in a film that seems to have not updated itself one bit from films of Boyer's era. Gielgud later described his role as an "idiotic walkabout", one that seemed to not let him really act alongside noting his slight shame in taking the film to help in money problems. Being wrapped in a warm fur costume and a dubious script without having to sing and get paid for it? Sure, why not. There are technically highlights, in picking out the silly moments besides the hokum that comes through with such pallid singing, but my favorite is near the end, where Finch and York are travelling slowly away down the mountain, trying to keep up with the guides and they yell at them to slow down...which promptly leads to an avalanche occurring over the guides. The other little nugget comes from when Finch tries to go back in the end, and a brief song happens after he apparently reaches it - I just like to pretend he actually just when snow-blind again. On the whole, there is very little to like from a film that deserves all of its notations of turkey classification in how silly it all proves to be within an intolerable 150 minute run-time, ineffective execution of songs and dance, and its lack of anything meaningful to make a worthwhile adventure in utopia that merits needing more than one adaptation of the original material by Hilton. In short, it sucks.

Happy Thanksgiving. Next Time: Thirsty for more? It's time for Hobgoblins.

Overall, I give it 3 out of 10 stars.