Tag: Steve Martin

Quick Thoughts – November Round-Up, Part 1

Planes, Trains & Automobiles (1987)

It seems like every major holiday gets plenty of love from the motion picture industry, except Thanksgiving.

I mean, other than Blood Rage (aka Nightmare at Shadow Woods), that fake [TOTALLY NSFW] trailer from Grindhouse, and Prisoners, I can’t think of a single other movie that takes place around the true American holiday.  And that’s not to say that this movie even is a Thanksgiving movie, because it’s really more about one man’s quest to get home for the holiday (and the traveling partner he happens to get stuck with).

I’m going to guess that Planes, Trains & Automobiles doesn’t hold up for everyone, but it still works for me, and if you’ve ever had a nightmare travelling experience, I’m guessing it’ll work for you, too.  Somewhere, perhaps rotting away in a vault, is a two hour cut of this film that I’d love to see (you can tell because the trailer has a ton of stuff that’s not in the final cut), but the version we have available is a nice, tight ninety-minute comedy that never overstays its welcome, no matter how much our two leads get on each others’ nerves.

I know it’s cliche because I overuse it myself, but they don’t make movies like this much anymore.  The comedy genre, not unlike horror, has been largely relegated to the discount bin, only being made if the studio can do it on the cheap.  In contrast, this movie has scope, and a budget to back it up.  After all, no airline, railroad, or rental car company would lend their likeness only to be depicted as incompetent, so the production had to essentially create their own.

But, hey, comedy comes down to comedy, right?  Fortunately, John Candy and Steve Martin are at peak performance with their respective shticks (an over-talker for Candy and a curmudgeon for Martin), but they’re also both adept at keeping things real when the moment calls for it.

This is a very good comedy film (particularly one that doesn’t involve science fiction or supernatural elements) from a decade that’s chock full of good to great ones.  It may leave you with more questions than answers (like, who is Del Griffith, really?), but I suppose it’s more about the journey than the destination.

Rating: ★★★★☆

Assault on Precinct 13 (1976)

I remember watching this on Netflix a while back and thinking it was just okay, but upon further review (perhaps having my expectations more properly calibrated), Assault on Precinct 13 is a pretty good little movie.

Taking huge inspiration from the Howard Hawks-directed, John Wayne-starring siege westerns (Rio Bravo, El Dorado, and Rio Lobo) and upgrading the setting to modern day (as of 1976) Los Angeles, 13 is the tale of a ragtag group consisting of a CHP lieutenant, a pair of secretaries, and a few prisoners, trapped inside a nearly-closed police station and fighting for survival against a seemingly endless storm of gang members bent on revenge.

It’s not a perfect movie, but I give it ample credit for squeezing as much out of its low budget as it possibly could have (especially that wonderful synth score), and there’s one scene in particular, love it or hate it, that few would dare to even try these days.

The action might be a bit clunky (although there is That One wonderful shot), but the tension is expertly built, and the characters are interesting enough to get you through.  Even without much star power at work, I give Assault on Precinct 13 a solid recommendation (you know, just don’t expect Commando).

Rating: ★★★½

All the President’s Men (1976)

People will probably try to discredit me for saying this, but All the President’s Men doesn’t hold up that well.

Yes, it’s an important story in American history, and, yes, it demonstrates the value of a free and unfettered press, but, if you weren’t alive and conscious at the time of Watergate, there’s a lot you might miss.

I’m going to compare this movie to a similar one made nearly four decades later, that being Spotlight.  Now, I admit, I may be generationally biased here, but, the way I see it, Spotlight assumes you don’t know anything about the story, so, as it plays out, things that are significant feel significant because the movie has explained why they are significant.  All the President’s Men doesn’t necessarily play out like this, so, if you don’t know certain names, places, or abbreviations, things could fly right over your head without you even knowing.

However, the film does boast an impressive cast, Robert Redford in particular is wonderfully subtle, and, like Spotlight, the cinematography is probably underrated (lots of split diopter shots, which I’m always a fan of).

Rating: ★★★☆☆

Misery (1990)

Like All the President’s Men, Misery is a William Goldman screenplay adapted from an existing book.

Unlike All the President’s Men, nothing in Misery ever happened (that we know of).

I’ve said this before in relation to Coming to America, but everybody involved with Misery was firing on all cylinders.  Rob Reiner was coming off of directing When Harry Met Sally, William Goldman’s previous screenplay was The Princess Bride (also directed by Reiner), James Caan gives a magnificent performance in something of a comeback role, and Kathy Bates skyrocketed into the public eye with her Oscar-winning portrayal of Annie Wilkes; not to mention Richard Farnsworth and Frances Sternhagen doing top-notch character work.  Also, this was cinematographer Barry Sonnenfeld’s last movie as a director of photography before moving to the big director’s chair, and it’s some of his finest work; mostly claustrophobic (it’s of little surprise that Misery was recently adapted for the stage, given the mostly limited setting), but also panoramic when called for.

Many great thrillers are dark comedies at heart (Hitchcock knew this well, and the Coens are still doing it), and this one is no exception.  As horrifying as things become, there’s usually a spoonful of sugar mixed in to keep things from veering into complete, well, misery territory.

Given the hit-or-miss nature of Stephen King film adaptations, Misery is clearly among the best (and Reiner hit paydirt twice, also directing Stand By Me).

It’s a work of art, plain and simple.

Rating: ★★★★½

The Paper (1994)

Ron Howard has made so many movies and worked with so many people that you probably don’t even know (or realize) half the stuff he’s directed.

The Paper likely falls into that category.

Howard’s filmography is largely dominated by Tom Hanks, but before they made their big Splash together (Oh, no.  Am I turning into Gene Shalit?), there was another comedic actor who helped put “Ron Howard: Director” on the map, that being Michael Keaton (in another little movie you might not know called Night Shift).

I’m going to call The Paper a “Kitchen Sink Dramedy” because, while the movie clearly has a sense of humor, there are so many dramatic elements thrown in that I couldn’t possibly list them all here (just to name a few: job interview, cancer, wrongful arrest).  And, if all that wasn’t enough, everything takes place in a 24-hour period (like After Hours but with an actual point, I think).

And it’s not just the script that’s fully loaded, as the cast list is long and distinguished (including Jason Robards as a newspaper executive…sounds familiar), with a heavy mix of established stars, “that guy” actors, and now notable people in before-they-were famous roles (not to mention one shot that’s literally just a wall of cameos).  An ensemble if there ever was one.

The Paper is far from a perfect film, and I imagine it would be a bit too cornball for some to handle (frankly, the movie is achingly Nineties), but I recommend it, especially for those curious about the business of newspapers (it has a reputation among journalists of being true to life despite its over-the-top nature).

Rating: ★★★½

Quick Thoughts – September Round-Up, Part 3

‘The Muppet Movie’ (1979)

It wouldn’t be until the Nineties that the whole television-to-movie adaptation became so ubiquitous, but 1979 was a pretty big year for it.  After all, there was ‘Star Trek: The Motion Picture‘, I guess we could throw in ‘Monty Python’s Life of Brian’ (although it wasn’t their first movie), and, of course, there’s ‘The Muppet Movie’.

Watching this film taught me a valuable lesson, and that’s that all the celebrity cameos in the world don’t matter a lick if you don’t have an interesting story.  Frankly, I found the “guest star appearances” to be frustrating; most of them are there and gone in the blink of an eye.  The only one who gets close to a full scene is Mel Brooks, and even he can only brighten the movie so much (although I did find a humorous parallel between his scene and the torture scene in ‘SPECTRE‘, but that’s neither here nor there).

This is not to say that ‘The Muppet Movie’ doesn’t have its moments, it’s just that they come so few and far between, and the core story is such a boring tease that I can’t recommend this to anyone trying to get their Muppet (or general Jim Henson) fix.  Perhaps the problem is that the Muppets on their own aren’t very interesting, but when they’re telling a real story (or doing sketch comedy on TV), even if its somebody else’s (e.g. ‘Christmas Carol‘ and ‘Treasure Island‘), you can mine a lot more humor out of that.

Hate to say it, but this one’s easily on my skip list.

Rating: ★★☆☆☆

 

‘Marathon Man’ (1976)

If you didn’t already know, and without really spoiling anything, there’a a famous scene in this movie involving some malevolent dentistry and the repetitive question, “Is it safe?” which had quite a cultural impact (maybe not the same as what ‘Jaws‘ did to the beach, but not dissimilar).  I wish I could say otherwise, but the mark left by that particular scene belies the overall quality of the movie.

‘Marathon Man’ isn’t bad, it’s worth seeing once, but seeing it multiple times won’t help you with your confusion.  I’ve seen it twice (once at home and once in a theater), watching intently on both occasions, and there are still elements I don’t have a firm grasp on, despite the story not appearing to be all that complicated, so, just be prepared for that if you ever watch it.

What’s even more frustrating is that the screenplay was written by William Goldman, adapted from his own novel (which reportedly is way better than the movie; maybe I’ll get around to reading it if I ever start reading books again), so such confusion seems needless, but I’ll give him a little leeway since it was his first time adapting his own work (he’d have a little more success with that later on).

That said, there are certain elements of this movie that are downright wonderful.  In particular, Laurence Olivier’s performance is something to be truly savored; perhaps the ultimate embodiment of the phrase “deliciously evil.”  It’s funny that Oliver quickly moved from a Mengele pastiche in this film to a Mengele hunter in 1978’s ‘The Boys From Brazil‘, a movie I find to be more entertaining (though admittedly more sensational) than ‘Marathon Man’, but I prefer Olivier’s performance in the latter.

Anyway, as I said, worth seeing once.  Lots of great NYC stuff.

Rating: ★★★☆☆

 

‘Psycho II’ (1983)

Thought Disney were the ones who first thought of releasing sequels decades (and decades) after the original films?  Then you don’t know about ‘Psycho II’ (or ‘III’, or ‘IV’).

The original ‘Psycho‘ is a seminal piece of cinema history.  Not only did it inspire the slasher genre (pretty much starting with 1978’s ‘Halloween’ and continuing through today), but it’s probably the first best example of “classy sleaze” (a term recently coined by Red Letter Media’s Mike Stoklasa to refer to such films as ‘Gone Girl‘ and ‘Don’t Breathe‘).  It’s also a movie I stepped away from for a number of years, as back in college I had to do a shot analysis of the first half hour for a film class, so I got rather sick of the sight of it, but I was happy to revisit it in preparation for the sequel (although ‘Psycho II’ does begin with the most famous scene from ‘Psycho’).

‘Psycho II’ is definitely not terrible.  Given that it’s a sequel made two decades after the fact, it’s actually pretty good, and I appreciate that the filmmakers were able to get not only Anthony Perkins (giving a surprisingly sympathetic performance) but also Vera Miles to reprise their roles from the first movie (John Gavin was hypothetically available, but was otherwise occupied at the time as the U.S. Ambassador to Mexico).  However, and I feel like I’ve been saying this a lot lately, what begins (and sustains for quite a while) as an engrossing and effective film eventually goes on for too long and kind of falls apart in the third act, which is a shame.

Performance-wise, it’s a mixed bag.  Perkins delivers great work as Norman, and Dennis Franz and Robert Loggia put in solid shifts (though abbreviated) in support, but I can’t decide if Meg Tilly’s performance is adequate or terrible, and I was not feeling Hugh Gillin as the sheriff, although that may be more so because of the character as written (hard to tell sometimes).

And, once again, I’d be remiss if I didn’t at least mention Jerry Goldsmith’s score.  It’s not his best work, but I give him credit for doing something original and not merely doing a Bernard Herrmann impression.

So, yeah; not great, but not terrible.  If you love the original ‘Psycho’ so much that you don’t want anything to spoil your image of it, maybe skip this one, but if you’re open to a continuation of the story, it’s worth checking out.

Rating: ★★★☆☆