Harlem Nights.

Review #1639: Harlem Nights.

Cast: 

Eddie Murphy (Vernest "Quick" Brown), Richard Pryor (Sugar Ray), Redd Foxx (Bennie Wilson), Danny Aiello (Phil Cantone), Michael Lerner (Bugsy Calhoune), Della Reese (Madame Vera Walker), Berlinda Tolbert (Annie), Stan Shaw (Jack Jenkins), Jasmine Guy (Dominique La Rue), Vic Polizos (Richie Vento), Lela Rochon (Sunshine), David Marciano (Tony), Arsenio Hall (Reggie), and Thomas Mikal Ford (Tommy Smalls) Written and Directed by Eddie Murphy.

Review: 

It goes without saying that Eddie Murphy was a prime comedic star for the 1980s. It sure is something that one can be the headline presence in nine feature films in that era and have only one of them be an outright stinker (Best Defense, although the jury will be out on The Golden Child, another one that Murphy detested, until I actually get around to it...). He had various influences growing up that ranged from Richard Pryor to Bruce Lee, but it is the former that he most aspired to be most like. After all, Murphy thought he was going to be famous from a young age, but it was listening to one of Pryor's albums that made him think about doing comedy. And...you know the rest, but there is one thing to state about this film: it is the only time he has directed his own film, for which he also served as executive producer. The film ultimately turned out to be a mixed result. On the one hand, Murphy and the others did enjoy themselves quite a bit, to which Murphy described it as a blur that was amazing for coming together - at least in recent times, since he also called it part of his bizarre periods that catered to what he thought would please everybody while plagued with adulation, where the funny stuff seemed to be more offstage than in the film. One apparent inspiration was the real life conflict between gangsters involving Harlem, as Dutch Schultz and Bumpy Johnson had a conflict in the mid 1930s. Strangely enough, Johnson had been used as the inspiration for a variety of films with gangster characters, such as Shaft (1971) and The Cotton Club (1984). 

It can certainly be said that this is a weird vanity project, one that has a labor of love for wanting to work with inspirations that result in a wild up-and-down film. It was a mild success with its $30 million budget, but it also received mostly derisive attention for its time that has only slightly molded down into the box of "cult classic" from others. In other words: a mixed bag, one that can either be the equivalent of a good time spent for amusement, or one that can be thought of as too familiar or vulgar to work in either action or comedy. For me, I thought it was just fine - cliché period piece or not, there was still something for me to enjoy, even though it obviously isn't the best way to make one's own vanity piece (believe me, The Postman (1997), vanity piece or not, was far more embarrassing to go through). If a regular film student had done this basic premise, we would probably think of it as average fluff, but Murphy being the driving force basically magnifies everything to 10. Of course, the obscenities don't help, but am I really going to be the one to cry about swear words in a film? Class and bawdiness are the yin-and-yang of any time period, really (at least the ones that people want to live in instead of their own). Truthfully, the film works best when trying to not strain for a joke, where it allows itself to enjoy the crisp look that one will either tolerate as something they've seen before or wish they were watching another film about switcheroos (once one does The Sting (1973), can one really ever go back?). In that sense, while Murphy likely should have had someone else direct or had a script polishing, he does a fair job in balancing himself out, being semi-funny with a few quips in a generally warm-headed performance that anyone would be fine with in having mentors around while blowing folks away. On the other side of lead actors, this one was near the close of Pryor's career. He had suffered a variety of health problems (having been diagnosed with multiple sclerosis in 1986, for which he said got worse in 1990) alongside doing a selection of wide-ranging comedy work (which ranged from Jo Jo Dancer, Your Life Is Calling to Superman III), and this was his third-to-last starring role. He had his own reservations about his performance, one that he toned down from script-to-screen that seemed (to him) to be bothered by his MS diagnosis, and he felt that he never connected with Murphy and his "mean" comedy. Honestly, it is a fine performance, one that obviously is trying to play that line of weariness in being a mentor and also an adept player to what is needed - it results in a few amusing moments.  This was the last film role for Foxx, who incidentally would star alongside Reese in a Murphy-produced television show with The Royal Family (1991), which ended up being Foxx's last project prior to his death at the age of 68. He still seems to have the spark needed in wiry background amusement, and one can see a useful duo between him and Reese. Not to be forgotten for their own contributions in being a name for themselves before filming is Reese, who was known for her jazz and gospel singing for three decades alongside vast work in television. The film suits her well for a variety of amusing moments of bombast, with the sequences between her and Murphy (one of which involving a fight in an alley) proving a worthy highlight. Aiello and Lerner each make useful adversaries (cliché, but still), riding the line of imposing threat in each line of focus (whether as a beleaguered boss or a jealous cop in a hovel) that fits the standard needed. Others make appearances here and there that in theory could lead somewhere (such as a subdued Guy), but it ends up with Hall being the most interesting one to see in a short role, playing the crying game of mayhem pretty well. As a whole, 116 minutes of run-time is either too long for a film of this caliber or curious enough to want to see it all the way through. It is nobody's idea of a great crime comedy, but Harlem Nights could be worth your while if you find the sum of its parts enough to satisfy your curiosity. 

Next Time: The first film on my mind for this project - Boyz n the Hood.

Overall, I give it 7 out of 10 stars.

Any Given Sunday.

Review #1523: Any Given Sunday.

Cast: 
Al Pacino (Tony D'Amato), Cameron Diaz (Christina Pagniacci), Dennis Quaid (Jack 'Cap' Rooney), James Woods (Dr. Harvey Mandrake), Jamie Foxx (Willie Beamen), LL Cool J (Julian Washington), Matthew Modine (Dr. Ollie Powers), Jim Brown (Montezuma Monroe), Lawrence Taylor (Luther 'Shark' Lavay), Bill Bellamy (Jimmy Sanderson), Andrew Bryniarski (Patrick 'Madman' Kelly), Lela Rochon (Vanessa Struthers), Lauren Holly (Cindy Rooney), Ann-Margret (Margaret Pagniacci), Aaron Eckhart (Nick Crozier) Directed by Oliver Stone (#095 - Wall Street, #1090 - Platoon, and #1265 - Natural Born Killers)

Review: 
"I love intelligent films that come at you fast. I don't have attention deficit disorder, my mind moves fast. There's a lot to deal with in my films. We had so many facts to go through, so the governing style was flash, cut, flash, repeat."

One needs to see a bit of distinct vision every now and then from a director, and Oliver Stone closed out his 20th century with another distinct focus in football. He had been a student at Yale University before doing service in Vietnam first through teaching students English in Saigon to wiping Merchant Marine ships to dropping out of Yale and enlisting in the United States Army. He went into New York University after that and graduated with a film degree in 1971. He made his first film as a director with the cheapie Seizure (1974) before getting the chance to write Midnight Express (1978), which resulted in an Academy Award for his script despite inaccuracies of the depiction of the real-life prison story. The Hand (1981) followed for Stone as a director, but the five years between this and his next was crucial, since he wrote Conan the Barbarian (1982) and Scarface (1983) in that time. He rocketed to further prominence with Platoon (1986) that kept him busy over the prevailing years, with this being his 15th as director/writer. He has touched subjects such as war with Salvador (1986), biopics with The Doors (1991), to crime with Natural Born Killers (1994), all seeming distinct in their provocative nature by Stone.

I wonder if Stone wanted to make the ultimate football film. What we have here is truly a hodgepodge of clichés and assumptions you can have in a sports film, right from an upstart rookie becoming a star and then needing to not become consumed in arrogance, a wearied wise coach (perhaps like Tom Landry?), action montages, and even having actual athletes as stars (of which there are several notable ones of the past like Lawrence Taylor or Johnny Unitas). Stone had first expressed an interest in a football project with an early 1980s script about an old linebacker he wrote in mind for Charles Bronson. Years later, he met journalist Richard Weiner. He had developed a script with former player Jamie Williams about a black quarterback. This would be combined with scripts done by John Logan and Daniel Pyne alongside inspiration from You're Okay, It's Just a Bruise by Robert Huzienga Jr (former team physician of the Los Angeles Raiders detailing player injuries); Stone and Logan would get screenplay credit while Pyne and Logan got story and Weiner and Williams were consultants. This frenzy also applies to editing, since there are four listed as part of the film. Stone clearly was under the mindset that football was somehow like war, particularly with how it marched on as a team together as opposed to individual only, while also seeing the other sides of football life (like the pain and egos). On a basic level, I would say that this is a decent movie, wrapped with making an involving film packing an ensemble worthy of carrying most of its weight that Stone wants to put on them on and off the field that can be fairly entertaining. Of course it also is considerably lengthy at 162 minutes (157 for the director's cut, in which twelve minutes were cut for pacing while adding six minutes of other scenes) with a self-importance like no other in its presentation of football players as the modern gladiator (complete with a brief flash of Ben-Hur to drive home the point) with all of the excesses that come from Stone's view on the matter. It is firmly a film of the 1990s in all the right and weird ways, one that I chuck a smile at when it stops doing flashes of editing and focuses on just the basics.

Pacino does quite well with the material required in garnering a leader one could rally around in all of the moods required, whether that involves weary loneliness or stubborn dominance that seems fairly convincing in rally curiosity. Diaz matches him in cleverness that never seems like a doorstep to forget about, a figure of new-school arrogance that does seem quite amusing. Quaid does fine with a man on his last leg of fame (and perhaps health) - respectable without being drowned in pity. Woods doesn't have too much to really do, but he is quite a conniving figure behind the lines that has one really good scene to munch on involving him being caught in a lie about the health of the players. Foxx (picked after Sean Combs lost the role apparently because he couldn't throw a football) captures the bravado of a rising star and all that comes with it in good detail, whether that involves brimming confidence or sparring words with anyone. Others such as Cool J and Taylor make the best of their time on screen in charm and coarse acting that resonate the siding of the football action in its business and excess. It can't quite keep every thread going without being a bit lost, but at least its numerous showing of games do look fairly convincing (hits and all) within a fictionalized football league (in the year 2001 no less). It still has a punch when it comes to the TV-infected sensationalism and other various topics, and it definitely seems willing enough to want to inspire a thought without bashing your head with it. On the whole, it lumbers to points about football gladiators and its exploitation a bit too much, but it does work itself enough to win out in the end.

Next Time: We venture into the 21st century.

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.