A Very (Shane) Black Christmas: and an IRON MAN 3 New Year!

People don’t really like feeling like a movie is messing with them.

The last five years has blessed (cursed) all of us with near-constant STAR WARS: THE LAST JEDI arguments, even for people don’t give two shits about the now-sort-of-floundering space franchise. There are lots and lots of reasons why that particular blockbuster was so divisive that it still feels like people can’t shut the fuck up about it, but one of the most telling insights into why it rubbed people the wrong way actually came from a Film Crit Hulk treatise on the movie’s many unheralded virtues:

I was having a conversation with one of my local bartenders I love. We’ve had a lot of lovely, spirited bar arguments. Sports. Movies. You name it. And it’s always been fun and inclusive. But The Last Jedi is the first time I have ever seen him incensed. He kept yelling at us and talking about all the things that were so “stupid” about the film, and then proclaiming that the director “clearly doesn’t understand the tone of Star Wars!” He made this point particularly about the sense of humor in the opening Poe scene. It didn’t matter that I pointed out the tone was no different from Han’s off-the-cuff joke, “everything’s fine here… how are you?” as well as a litany of other moments. He finally just yelled, “I felt like the film was making fun of me!”

This sentiment of “that movie was making fun of me!” was expressed by others at the time. Cheo Hodari Coker, the show runner behind the Netflix LUKE CAGE series, went off at length in a Twitter thread (that I naturally can no longer find) about how the moment where THE LAST JEDI resolves THE FORCE AWAKENS' “cliffhanger” by having Luke toss his lightsaber off said cliff made him feel mocked for caring about that moment in the first place.

Now, I would argue that there’s no other way for that moment to resolve (imagine if THE LAST JEDI opened with Luke grabbing his lightsaber, telling Rey “let’s go”, and then wreaking havoc on the First Order, with the whole thing wrapping up in ten minutes; what a great movie!!!!), but Coker isn’t a stupid man, nor is he coming from a place of bad faith. He’s a smart and insightful creative and Star Wars fan who wanted to like Episode 8. And he didn’t. It’s worth paying attention to.

He didn’t like the feeling of being messed with. Nor did Film Crit Hulk’s bartender friend. Nor did many of the smart people I know who also didn’t like THE LAST JEDI very much. It’s what it is.

Of course, blockbuster sequels being spear-headed by filmmakers with a unique sensibility that immediately piss off half the audience by screwing with the format is nothing new. In the wake of the unprecedented blockbuster success of THE AVENGERS, it was time for Marvel Studios to begin its next phase of solo films to build up to the next team-up. First on deck: a third IRON MAN solo movie. After an extremely well-liked first installment in 2008, and a major step down in quality in 2010 with IRON MAN 2, Marvel needed to take a big swing to energize the franchise that started it all. And star/executive producer/mega-string-puller Robert Downey Jr. knew just the guy.

Enter Shane Black.

IRON MAN 3

Starring: Robert Downey Jr., Don Cheadle, Gwyneth Paltrow, Guy Pearce, Rebecca Hall, Ben Kingsley

Directed by: Shane Black

Written by: Black, Drew Pearce

Released: May 3, 2013

Length: 131 minutes

A year after the events of The Battle of New York, Tony Stark (Downey Jr.) is in a bad place. It turns out he never really recovered from his trip into space at the end of THE AVENGERS, nor from his confirmation that aliens exist and they want to kill us. He’s easily triggered into panic attacks, he’s mindlessly building iron suits in his basement and, most of all, he’s freaking Pepper Potts (Paltrow) out.

He’s picked a bad time to have PTSD, though, because there’s a new global threat out there, and his name is The Mandarin (Kingsley). He has the ability to hijack all U.S. television stations at any time to broadcast his taunting, disturbing messages; he also appears to have the ability to wreak havoc at will, setting off bombs and striking terror into the hearts of every American.

On top of everything else, a ghost from Stark’s playboy past appears to be returning to haunt him. Back in 1999, during a New Year’s Eve party in Switzerland, Stark blows off Aldrich Killian (Pearce), the awkward and disabled creator of the fledgling Advanced Idea Mechanics company, in order to make time with geneticist Maya Hansen (Hall), whose work on a project named Extremis may have unlocked the key to tissue regeneration. Now in 2013, Killian, who looks healthy, youthful and revitalized, returns to Stark Industries with an offer. AIM has taken off and he’s now trying head-hunt Pepper Potts to come work for him. Meanwhile, Hansen returns to Stark to inform him she works for AIM now, which means Killian has his hands on Extremis.

Jon Favreau (who also continues to play Happy Hogan both in this and in the MCU at large) was the original architect of the IRON MAN franchise, having directed the first two installment. However, Favreau tapped out of helming a third film by December 2010, opting instead to direct the never-completed MAGIC KINGDOM movie (no tears for Favreau, he’s clearly landed on his feet). Although he remained an executive producer on THE AVENGERS, IRON MAN 3 was going to need a new captain at the head of the ship.

Not long after Favreau’s departure, Downey Jr. hopped on the phone to contact the man who helped revitalize his career nearly ten years before. By February 2011, Shane Black was in final negotiations to direct and write the third IRON MAN movie. By March, Black was the director and co-writer on the script with Drew Pearce, who would go on to co-write FAST AND FURIOUS PRESENTS: HOBBES & SHAW and would do the story for MISSION: IMPOSSIBLE - ROGUE NATION. A roller coaster of a career, indeed.

IRON MAN 3 found itself in an interesting slot in the MCU at that time. It not only had to follow up the ensemble success of THE AVENGERS, it also had to recover from the disappointment that was IRON MAN 2, a film that both collapsed under its own world-building weight (the movie just stops halfway through to re-introduce Nick Fury and Agent Coulson) and cast doubt that Marvel Studios was going to be able to handle its own ambitions.

But the Tony Stark threequel is largely a success! It’s a movie with things on its mind, even if it does have to remember its ultimate four-quadrant obligations at the end of the day. The whole thing with Rhodey’s War Machine (Cheadle) being re-skinned into a red-white-and-blue Iron Patriot in order to do overseas merc work for the U.S. government is an outrageously potent metaphor coming from a cinematic universe that would have to play ball with the Air Force a little over five years later.

It’s also maybe one of the only features in the MCU that portrays a character actually dealing with all the shit he’s seen? There are little nods here and there throughout the franchise to residual trauma; the feeling of loss hangs over ENDGAME, Thor gets a moment in INFINITY WAR to process everything that’s he’s faced, there’s WANDAVISION on the TV side of things. But here, Tony Stark’s ultimate arc is “getting over PTSD”, and it takes him until the end of the movie to really achieve that. It’s to IRON MAN 3’s credit that it takes Stark’s emotional fragility at face value. One of the worst things about modern franchise filmmaking is that the stories so often boil down to being power fantasies, the desire to see our heroes kick ass and be reassured about how cool it is that they’re kicking ass and how cool YOU are for watching them kick ass. Here, Tony Stark gets talked down from a panic attack by a kid he’s just met. It’s profoundly uncool. It’s great.

Shane Black and Drew Pearce also understands that Tony Stark is infinitely more interesting than Iron Man. It’s no mistake that the strongest stretch of the film by far is its middle section where Stark is alone and stranded in the middle of snowy Tennessee with said strange kid, completely stripped of his suit. He’s back to having to use his substantial wits and smarts to get himself back to the West Coast and save the day. It’s something that kind of got lost previously in IRON MAN 2, which felt like all suits, all the time. Seeing Stark become more of a detective is a blast, and it feels like a running back of the dynamic Downey Jr. got to play in KISS KISS BANG BANG.

Also, the Christmas aspect you’ve come to expect from a Shane Black movie is in full force, and ramps up a notch once the movie moves from Malibu to snowy Tennessee. Actually, IRON MAN 3 is one of the rare blockbusters that makes New Year’s Eve a crucial plot point; as mentioned above, the turning of the clock from 1999 to 2000 is sort of the beginning of the end for Stark here. We also get a fun Christmas track near the start of the movie, a remix of “Jingle Bells” by Joe Williams. It can't hold a candle to THE LONG KISS GOODNIGHT’s X-Mas factor but it ranks high, especially since Marvel hadn’t really taken much advantage of seasonal moods up until really recently.

Finally, I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention that IRON MAN 3 is an oasis of musical identity in a franchise that has famously been accused of lacking it. Specifically, it features absolutely the grooviest end-credits music in the entire Marvel Cinematic Universe, a fitting Brian Tyler track that sums up the mood and swerve of the movie as much as anything else. Why, yes, I can dig it!

Of course, IRON MAN 3 isn’t perfect. At 130 minutes, it’s a long movie that feels longer; whether that’s a result of Black being given a higher budget and ramping up the spectacle and CGI in response, or just a symptom of the bloated franchise threequel is debatable (it’s likely a mix of both). There’s also some weird moments that only make sense if you keep up with Marvel’s corporate machinations; you’d be forgiven for not knowing that the only reason the movie introduces us to Wang Xuequi’s Dr. Wu in the first scene, only to never see him again until the closing seconds, is to serve an alternate Chinese cut of the film where Dr. Wu pimps out milk drinks and local industrial companies.

Then there’s the most famous thing about the movie, the moment that endures in conversation after a decade, a moment that to some degree the MCU is still trying to deal with.

That would be the Mandarin twist.

Specifically, it’s the revelation that the big, scary, bin Laden-esque Mandarin character is, in reality, a drunk, loser actor named Trevor Slattery, nothing more than a puppet for the REAL bad guys operating in the shadows. It’s notable the wild swing Kingsley takes in his performance here, going from cool and calculated in the beginning, to a broad, burping, nearly cross-eyed cartoon character by the end.

Needless to say, many people were pissed. To get an idea of the general sentiment, check out the Honest Trailer for IRON MAN 3 sometime. It wasn’t a universal opinion, but it seemed to me that even people who liked the movie seemed to hate that moment (my 2013 memories are a little fuzzy, but as I recall, the group I saw it with was split right down the middle on it).

The reason I hear most often to explain the distaste for this decision is that it wiped out a major villain from the comics and replaced him with both a cartoonish asshole and a bland, unsatisfying corporate baddie. However, I have to wonder if it just goes back to the idea of not wanting to feel messed with. Here I am, really enjoying this modern update to a somewhat problematic comic arch-nemesis, and then the rug gets pulled from under me. How is that fair?

With about ten years of reflection, I can concede that the Mandarin twist falls short of something like THE LAST JEDI’s anti-twist regarding Rey’s parentage, a move that built carefully towards the film’s greater point about the Force being accessible to everybody, even a wayward orphan girl on the outskirts of the universe. Here, The Mandarin being a drug-addicted dork actor named Trevor is admittedly just a rug-pull for the sake of a rug-pull. “You thought he was this, but he’s actually this! Got you!” It also puts the film, and the MCU at large, in a hole it can’t quite get out of. As a result of this twist, there’s no longer a real compelling villain at the middle of it all (Killian ultimately doesn’t really fill the gap). It also took a major Marvel villain off the board, and the studio bought the twist back almost immediately with the ALL HAIL THE KING short before casting Tony Leung as the real Mandarin in SHANG-CHI AND THE LEGEND OF THE TEN RINGS.

But, at the same time, the fact that Marvel allowed Black to do the rug-pull anyway showed a willingness of the studio to hand over the keys to a filmmaker to let him do his thing he was theoretically hired for. And that might be the most miraculous thing about IRON MAN 3: it’s most definitely a Shane Black film. It’s set during Christmas, it pairs our lead with an unlikely partner (at least for part of the film, and it’s naturally the best stretch), and it plays on your expectations of an action film with many moments of subversion built and baked into the script; it’s no surprise that the biggest laugh of the movie comes from a henchman suddenly pleading for his release, stating “I hate working here, they’re so weird”.

Another kinda beautiful thing about Black’s creation here: there’s not a whole lot of world-building for future MCU installments. It seems utterly impossible for a mega-franchise that can often feel like homework nowadays, but outside of maaaaybe a little tease towards Pepper becoming Rescue like five years later (bet you forgot that happened in ENDGAME) and Slattery’s big return in SHANG-CHI, there aren’t a whole lot of threads here that contribute to The Big Marvel Story. It’s a stand-alone swan song for Tony Stark as a solo lead.

If anything, IRON MAN 3 concludes by closing a door future movies would have to reopen. It ends with Tony Stark finally getting the shrapnel in his heart removed, and his arc reactor thrown into the ocean. Despite the final line of the movie being “I am Iron Man”, the heavy implication is that Stark is retiring the persona, his soul being finally freed of the ghosts of his past and the burdens of his present.

Of course, it will come as no surprise to see Iron Man zip-zap-zopping away in the air the next time we see him, in the opening minutes of AVENGERS: AGE OF ULTRON. The Big Marvel Story At Work! I tease, but it does take some of the punch out of a movie’s bold storytelling choice when the next guy has to undo or completely ignore them (another parallel to be drawn here to STAR WARS’ final two chapters).

Still, IRON MAN 3 takes its place next to CAPTAIN AMERICA: THE FIRST AVENGER, THE AVENGERS, THOR: RAGNAROK, BLACK PANTHER and the two GUARDIANS OF THE GALAXY films as the list of Marvel Cinematic Universe films that feel completely and truly informed by the man behind the camera (note: this doesn’t mean these are the only good ones, nor is it necessarily slander against the ones not listed, please no fights going into the new year).

It was also enough of a success to bring Black back to his rightful place as the oddball writer of Hollywood. 2016’s THE NICE GUYS and 2018’s THE PREDATOR would follow; one was quite beloved, the other…wasn’t, but completely missing sometimes is the consequence of taking big swings.

The MCU has changed a lot since 2013, some for good (the makeup of their on and offscreen talent has finally diversified; they admittedly nailed the landing with ENDGAME) and some for bad (the fact that Scorsese has to take a meeting with Iger like some sort of mafioso every time he lodges a valid complaint about the MCU; the CGI is starting to look really rushed, a consequence of their actively hostile business practices). As the portfolio of lead heroes kept expanding (and Downey Jr.s’ price tag kept rising), we never did get another movie with Tony Stark as the lead. You sometimes wonder what would have happened if we had gotten an IRON MAN 4 with a returning Shane Black at the helm.

Then again, you take a look at something like THOR: LOVE AND THUNDER and you start to recognize that sometimes lightning in a bottle is just that.

Maybe messing with everybody once was enough.

KISS KISS, BANG BANG: A Very (Shane) Black Christmas!

One of the more exhaustively discussed recent trends in the film industry is the sudden rise and complete dominance that Marvel Studios, The Walt Disney Company, and superhero movies at large have on the current market. There are little pieces of data to suggest that the stranglehold may be loosening a bit (Phase 4 of the MCU has been notable more for its quantity than its quality), but the fact remains at this point in time that any sort of discussion of modern moviemaking must filter through the Avengers Academy first.

To that end, even the remaining industry titans of an older time are somehow linked more to capes and cowls than their actual body of work these days. The names “Martin Scorsese” and “Quentin Tarantino” can barely be discussed without their semi-recent comments about the MCU essentially not being their thing being analyzed, re-analyzed, then analyzed again for good measure.

Now, I’m not honestly and truly not here to re-litigate any of that conversation again, outside of mentioning that, in the pursuit of defending Earth’s Mightiest Heroes from detractors, it feels like people have started backing themselves into a position of profound un-curiosity? Take the rollout of the 2022 Sight & Sound list, as well as the reveal of individual director’s ballots, I’ve noticed there’s been a lot of eye-rolling about certain directors making “pretentious” picks. This would be a somewhat understandable criticism (cinema can be great without being esoteric), except the picks being referred to is shit like CASABLANCA or CHINATOWN, movies that were mainstream releases at the time and remain entirely accessible and straight-forward to this day. Are we just considering any movies made before we were born as “pretentious”?

No, I’m not here to get back into that exhausting topic. What I’m more interested in this week is “how did we get here?” I don’t mean, “what business practices and legislation got us to this point of Disney essentially having a populist monopoly on art?”. Those kinds of articles are always bleak treatises and ultimately left to those better suited to write them.

No, what I’m interested in is “what creative actions got us to this point in time?” What SUCCESSES led to the glut of superhero cinema??

The answer, of course, can be traced back to the summer of 2012, when THE AVENGERS proved that a shared universe can pay off big-time. Marvel Studios’ big risk yielded major dividends, both creatively and financially, as the star-studded ensemble proved their ability to play well together and its at-the-time major get in the director’s and writer’s chair gulp Joss Whedon proved his ability to allow everybody a moment to shine. The team-up film went on to make $200 million in its opening weekend, and was the highest-grossing movie in America (without adjusting for inflation, of course!) for about three years. The “shared continuity” era had begun in earnest.

But, of course, the groundwork for the rise of the Marvel Cinematic Universe had been put down years before then. The real start to all of this, then, was 2008’s IRON MAN, the summer blockbuster that officially marked the return to the limelight of troubled star Robert Downey Jr., in one of the more perfect and satisfying weldings of star and role of the 21st century. Silver-tongued, flawed, but ultimately endowed with the capacity for empathy, it’s arguable that this performance was the single most important factor in the MCU’s rise to popularity in the eyes of the general public, as well as in Kevin Feige being able to set up the general Marvel “formula”: zippy one-liner style humor performed by the most likable actors on the planet.

Except, even then, Downey Jr.’s comeback role wasn’t just given to him as an act of good faith. For major reclamation projects such as his (and people forget just how bad things were for RDJ at the turn of the new century), a smaller production has to stick its neck out and assume the potential risk first. Maybe, perhaps, a quirky project written and directed by a guy who was himself looking to pull himself from the Hollywood outs.

What I’m saying is that Shane Black’s 2005 directorial debut KISS KISS, BANG BANG is the reason you feel like movies are bad now. Merry Christmas!

KISS KISS BANG BANG (2005)

Starring: Robert Downey Jr., Michelle Monaghan, Val Kilmer, Corbin Bernsen

Directed by: Shane Black

Written by: Shane Black

Released: October 21, 2005

Length: 103 minutes

Like most twisty mystery movies, the plot of KISS KISS BANG BANG is difficult to expound upon without giving away many of its surprises. The brass tacks: Harry Lockhart (Downey Jr.) is a wanna-be petty burglar whose latest job has just gone horribly wrong, leaving his partner dead in the streets. Searching for a place to hide from the cops, he barges into an audition room, where Hollywood casting director Dabney Shaw (the always great Larry Miller) is holding tryouts for a new picture. Thinking Harry is their next actor, they hand him sides and start running lines with him. He begins to show panic and remorse for the destruction he’s just run away from. The room loves his improvised energy, and he gets flown out to LA for a screen test.

Once he reaches the West Coast, Harry runs into his childhood crush, Harmony Lane (Monaghan), at a party. As the movie he’s auditioning for is a hardboiled detective thriller, Harry gets teamed up with “Gay” Perry (Kilmer), an actual L.A. detective, in order to give him some real-life experience and training. Their case? Staking out the cabin of actor Harlan Dexter, who has just settled a lawsuit filed by his daughter over the inheritance of his wife. What they find at his cabin sets off a chain of events that lead to Harry, Perry and Harmon(err)y running all around L.A. to solve a deadly mystery.

KISS KISS BANG BANG is narrated by Harry himself, and his verbal exposition is extremely self-aware. Harry is oftentimes a stumbling narrator, looping back around to events and details he forgot to mention, or jokingly skipping over certain parts of the story in order to come back to them at another time. More to the point, Harry seems to be fully aware that he's in a movie; he seems to be at peace with the fact that he exists as words on a page, here to tell a story. He’s also a world-class smart-ass, getting defensive and snarky when he trips himself up in his own story (he at one point goads us on after a fuck-up by saying “I don’t see another goddamn narrator, so pipe down”).

Now, much of what I just described is going to be anathema to a good time at the movies for some. Meta cuteness paired with writery smart-aleck one-liners isn’t going to sit well with everybody (a good litmus test as to your enjoyment of KISS KISS BANG BANG to gauge your immediate reaction to the line “don’t quit your gay job”). But if you DO like these kind of playful, self-aware films, it’s hard to think of one from the 21st century as effortless as this one. It definitely helps that Downey Jr. is uniquely suited for the kind of loopy, almost hostile narration that Black employs throughout his script.

Robert Downey Jr. is maybe one of the most effortlessly sarcastic onscreen presences in Hollywood right now, and has been for some time. Humor has been a major tool for him both on and off the screen, and his ability to laugh at the mess that was this point in his life is probably his greatest weapon against relapse that he possesses. His true gift in front of a camera, however, is his ability to be likable no matter how abrasive his character may be. He always finds the humanity in cads. It’s why an entire multi-film franchise was able to be built off of his Tony Stark performance. His performance in KISS KISS BANG BANG is no different, and it’s hard to oversell just how important it was for the second half of his career for him that he nailed this.

IRON MAN was his comeback in the eyes of the public. KISS KISS BANG BANG, however, was his comeback in the eyes of Hollywood executives.

Ironically, like all monumental decisions, the one made to cast RDJ as the lead here was made almost arbitrarily. Yes, prior to his run-ins with the law and his struggles with addiction, Downey Jr. had already transcended his status as a nepotism product, and was already well-established as a performer capable of anchoring a complete movie. However, in 2005, the major reason he was chosen as the lead of KISS KISS BANG BANG was that he was cheap, and would fit right into the film’s $15 million budget. He only got into the audition room at all due to him finding out about the project from his then-girlfriend Susan Levin, then leveraging his relationship with producer Joel Silver. He read well, and the rest was history.

KISS KISS BANG BANG was a redemption project for its writer and director as well. As mentioned in last week’s article, the relative failure of THE LONG KISS GOODNIGHT effectively iced Shane Black’s career for almost a decade. The crack in his armor seemed to open up the floodgates to critics, perhaps eager to finally execute the Machismo Action Genre that had engulfed Hollywood in the 80’s and 90’s. Burned out and formally rejected by the Academy, Black wouldn’t return to the action genre until the next century. The script began its life as something more resembling a rom-com, and was being guided by James L. Brooks. Somewhere along the way, it morphed into more of an action romp with little tweaks and twists, a sign that Black was returning to his roots.

The biggest subversion was the addition of “Gay” Perry. Even in 2005, it was rare to really see a gay character in a film being played without affectation, let alone as a real action heavy of a movie (hell, it still is). Yes, there are many barbs about his sexuality thrown his way, but none of them really rise higher than the level of “male peers cracking on each other”. There’s no real loss of agency or respect towards Perry. If anything, others’ discomfort with his very existence tends to play to his advantage; one henchman’s refusal to search him thoroughly leads to one of the movie’s most memorable jokes.

So there’s a little bit of a risk involved with this project, to say the least. You have a writer and director whose last film was over a decade ago that happened to be a flop (although as it was posited in last week’s article, THE LONG KISS GOODNIGHT might have been a victim of CUTTHROAT ISLAND’s historic failure), you have a star who was only allowed back into movies at all because fucking Mel Gibson paid the insurance on him for 2003’s THE SINGING DETECTIVE, and a major gay role front and center. Although a summer blockbuster it was not, the stakes were still unusually high for a slick mystery riff.

And it was all worth it. It’s true that didn’t exactly set the box office on fire, although it did basically break even. But with a movie like this, you’re mostly concerned if it still has any juice at all. You worry if a decade-long hiatus would have sapped Black’s unique sense of fun, rhythm, and function. Maybe he’s lost it, maybe the rust would show. But, nope, it’s like he never left. If anything, the only noticeable difference between this and his previous film THE LONG KISS GOODNIGHT is the reduction in budget and, more specifically, scale. No more large explosions or stunt-work on this one; instead, KISS KISS BANG BANG is forced to be more of a wry, sarcastic character-based murder mystery. The focus is more on the dialogue and the ways the personalities of our core three characters propel things than it is on spectacle. Most of the violence is meant to be surprising, maybe even a little funny.

Actually, the whole movie is funny in ways you don’t always expect. Like pretty much all of Black’s previous films, KISS KISS BANG BANG plays with the conventions and tropes of action flicks by playing on your expectations, then twisting them. You know you’ve seen scenes of characters getting saved from a bullet by something significant in their breast pocket, and KISS KISS BANG BANG knows you have too. So it provides you a scene like that….then pulls the rug out from under you. The entirety of the movie kind of plays like that, and it runs the risk of feeling exhausting if it didn’t feel so light on its feet.

It draws some career-best performances from its principals. Besides setting Downey back on track, Kilmer is also great as the “Murtaugh” to RDJ’s “Riggs”. Kilmer is one of those guys who said “yes” to too many projects over his career, which dilutes his good performances, but at his best, he has a understated quality about him that makes him “cool” in the best way. And Michelle Monaghan (one year before she would become a recurring MISSION: IMPOSSIBLE player), is terrific as Melody, a role that might have lost some agency if played by a less captivating performer. At once bitterly sarcastic and wildly vulnerable, she’s the perfect counterpoint to RDJ’s antics.

It’s tempting to call KISS KISS BANG BANG a spin on a noir, but I don’t know how noir-ish it really is, at least in a cinematic sense. Its bigger influence appears to be the dime-store detective novella. The script was based off of a 1941 Brett Halliday novel, BODIES ARE WHERE YOU FIND THEM. As well, there’s a fictional Raymond Chandler-esque writer who , although more or less unseen in the actual movie, has a body of work that serves as the catalyst for most of the plot’s beginning actions. Most fun of all, as a final nod to Chandler, KISS KISS BANG BANG is split into chapters with pulpy titles that just so happen to correlate to various Chandler novels.

Now, I must admit that the Christmassy-ness of KISS KISS BANG BANG is a little lacking in comparison to Black’s prior film THE LONG KISS GOODNIGHT. For one, we’re back in Los Angeles, a profoundly un-Christmassy town (sorry, everybody). Winter permeates the whole thing, and there are little nods throughout to indicate which season this tale is set in; Monaghan wears a particularly infamous seasonal outfit. But you just can’t have the kind of snowy goodness that you want from a true holiday movie (this may be the single greatest argument against DIE HARD being a Christmas movie, a conclusion I remain unconvinced of).

On the other hand, perhaps an L.A. Christmas is more in the Shane Black tradition anyway. I think about an answer he once gave to the “why Christmas, anyway?” question he probably gets quite often:

I […] think that Christmas is just a thing of beauty, especially as it applies to places like Los Angeles, where it's not so obvious, and you have to dig for it, like little nuggets. One night, on Christmas Eve, I walked past a Mexican lunch wagon serving tacos, and I saw this little string, and on it was a little broken plastic figurine, with a light bulb inside it, of the Virgin Mary. And I thought, that's just a little hidden piece of magic. You know, all around the city are little slices, little icons of Christmas, that are as effective and beautiful in and of themselves as any 40-foot Christmas tree on the lawn of the White House.

And that’s what KISS KISS BANG BANG is to me: a little hidden piece of magic inside the beginning of the history of the most successful film franchise in the history of the medium (not adjusted for inflation, of course). And of course, both Black and Downey Jr. would be rewarded for their good work here.

About eight years later, Downey Jr. was firmly in the middle of the most incredible career renaissance in recent modern history. IRON MAN and THE AVENGERS were lucrative successes, and it was time to start making another round of Marvel movies. It was here that RDJ found a way to repay the favor Black did for him earlier in the decade. Because as it happened, IRON MAN 3 was the first Marvel sequel that suddenly found itself in need of a director…

THE LONG KISS GOODNIGHT: A (Shane) Black Christmas Continues

Jennifer Lawrence recently got into trouble with the Twitterati due to a quote from her Actors on Actors video with Viola Davis for Variety in which she allegedly claimed that prior to THE HUNGER GAMES, “nobody had ever put a woman in the lead of an action movie” before. People were quick to point out that this is a literally untrue statement, citing such past female action icons as Ellen Ripley, Leia Organa and Sarah Conner (although it should be said that everybody seemingly mentioning the same three characters over and over isn’t the “epic clap back” as people are intending it to be).

In context, this dubious quote from Lawrence seemed more like a misspeak than anything else, with her intent being more in regards to studios’ heavy reluctance to trust in the box office power of a female-driven action film than some sort of unearned claim to history; she cited nerves in the moment to her bungled quote, although it really did little to change Lawrence’s current location in the Internet-build-up-then-tear-down cycle.

Regardless of what she did or didn’t mean to say or not say, even if Katniss Everdeen isn’t the literal first female action hero, it’s undeniable that studios are often still so unwilling to move forward with these kinds of films (even though people seem to like them and can list them off at the drop of a hat!). More to the point, they seem to so often undercut them when it comes time to market them. It’s a shame, too, because there’s lots of fun examples of the kind of female-led action film that quite frankly should be way more normalized than they are.

Once again, enter Shane Black.

Black’s career had been going swimmingly since the box office success of LETHAL WEAPON. Since then, he penned the story for 1989’s LETHAL WEAPON 2 and the scripts for 1987’s MONSTER SQUAD, 1991’S THE LAST BOY SCOUT, and 1993’s LAST ACTION HERO. Yep, even by 1993, the macho blockbuster was already entering its “ironic meta-parody” era.

Then came 1996’s THE LONG KISS GOODNIGHT, the kind of movie that you would think audiences would have been starved for at the time. In a decade and a half dominated by greased-up muscle guys like Arnold Schwarzenegger, Jean-Claude Van Damme and Sylvester Stallone, here comes an action movie starring….Geena Davis! It’s the perfect type of genre subversion, the kind of thing that makes you turn your head at the poster going, “Huh? Thelma’s packing heat again?”

As it turns out, audiences really didn’t care, at least not as much as many of the film’s stakeholders were hoping for. The movie kinda came and went after about a month. There are lots of reasons as to why (a big one being that Geena Davis was currently one of the faces of one of the biggest Hollywood flops of all time; more on that later!), but the movie’s relative failure had some pretty significant consequences for the trajectory of the action genre at large.

For instance: if you take a look at Black’s filmography after 1996, you’ll notice almost a decade goes by before he made another film. This is because THE LONG KISS GOODNIGHT was considered a major shortcoming by his standards. After that, a confluence of culture shifts and bad timing kept him on hiatus well into the 2000’s, until a new confluence of culture shifts and good timing brought him back to the top.

That’s all a story for another time. For now, does THE LONG KISS GOODNIGHT deserve its sort-of-bomb status? Not on your life. If anything, I think more people would be surprised how fun it is if they gave it a shot.

I think you would be, too. Let’s get into it.

THE LONG KISS GOODNIGHT (1996)

Starring: Geena Davis, Samuel L. Jackson, Brian Cox, Craig Bierko, David Morse

Directed by: Renny Harlin

Written by: Shane Black

Released: October 11, 1996

Length: 121 minutes

In many regards, THE LONG KISS GOODNIGHT is a movie that works best if you know as little as possible about it going in, so if you haven’t watched it, you may want to consider knocking it out before reading this. Or don’t! It’s Christmas time, who am I to tell you what to do?

The starting conceit: Samantha Caine (Davis) is an ordinary housewife that has been living in a nondescript town in the Upper Midwest with her daughter and a long-term boyfriend for the past eight years. What was she doing before then? Well, she doesn’t know. The first memory she can recall is being found pregnant on a New Jersey beach. That’s it; anything before then is completely gone. She’s tried to get some insight via a series of private detectives, but to no avail. Maybe the newest one, Mitch Henessey (Jackson), will have more luck.

One night, near Christmas, Samantha gets into a car accident and suffers a concussion. When she comes to, she discovers she suddenly has a ton of skill with a knife, both cutting and throwing.

As it happens, it turns out Samantha Caine used to be “Charly”, a highly trained, platinum blonde CIA assassin who went missing eight years ago. From there, it’s up to Samantha/Charly and Henessey to determine why she disappeared in the first place, as well as what the people who are now after her are up to. By the way, what the hell is “Project Honeymoon”?

THE LONG KISS GOODNIGHT is a movie with excess on its mind, although it should be noted that the explosions and wild knife stuff is paired with an extremely functional screenplay that only gives you as much information as you need at any given point, and a plot that all hangs together, but can either be tuned in or out of as you please. At its core, the two leads have a dynamic not unlike the one between Murtaugh and Riggs in LETHAL WEAPON, but with some significant subversions, which we’ll talk about in a second. The movie is comfortable, but also keeps you on your toes. It also threatens to collapse at any moment.

The reason that it doesn’t is because of Geena Davis.

Davis’ career had already been marked by an ability to play any type of role, appearing in such diverse genres of films as TOOTSIE, THE FLY, BEETLEJUICE, THELMA & LOUISE and A LEAGUE OF THEIR OWN, the latter two juicing her early 90’s career peak. The pivot to action star, though, was a relatively new thing for her, fueled a little by her recent marriage to director Renny Harlin.

I genuinely don’t know if THE LONG KISS GOODNIGHT would have worked without her grounding it (at least, as much as it allows itself to be grounded). Yes, you definitely buy her way more than you think you will as the CIA assassin. But without you COMPLETELY buying her as a beleaguered housewife in the movie’s opening act, this whole thing might have been dead on arrival. As it happens, Davis gives you both, infusing this jacked up action hero with a palpable maternal sense. The end result is a genuine cult classic.

Another thing that makes THE LONG KISS GOODNIGHT so much fun (and sneakily subversive) is its complete swap of the traditional gender dynamic. In this film, Samuel L. Jackson and Geena Davis are more or less “buddy cops”, which is sort of fun considering they’re not really cops, and they’re not really buddies, at least not at the start. But, as it goes along, you start noticing that Henessey is the damsel-in-distress here, the character that gets proposed to be bait for the bad guys, the one that needs to be rescued by the macho action hero. Davis, on the other hand, is constantly the one “in charge”, the “man with a gun”. She’s even given the action-hero physique; take a look at her arms in the surprisingly harrowing torture sequence where she’s tied to the water wheel; she looks jacked.

Looked through this prism, then, it’s no wonder it’s so exciting whenever Charly gets to take over, leaving Samantha the housewife (and all that she represents) in the dust.

THE LONG KISS GOODNIGHT is also a surprisingly prescient movie. “Project Honeymoon”, the bad guys’ big bad evil master plan, turns out to be a plot to conduct a false flag operation, with the idea to detonate a chemical bomb at Niagara Falls and blame it on Islamic terrorism. If you think that particular storyline sounds far-fetched, run it by your weird cousin at Christmas later this week and see what he thinks.

Finally, it’s also littered with people you like from other things. The always great Brian Cox (aka the guy from that HBO show I haven’t watched yet) is in a key role as Nathan Waldman, the man who trained Charly to be the efficient killer she once was. David Morse appears in a small but crucial part as a former mark. After some thinking, I even realized I recognized Samantha’s daughter, Caitlin. She’s played by Yvonne Zima, who I knew as Rachel Greene’s daughter on the first half of ER. A killer lineup!

The only thing really holding THE LONG KISS GOODNIGHT back from true greatness is that it feels a little long. It’s SO excessive and adrenaline-fueled that you’re totally wiped by the end. The 80’s/90’s action blow-’em-up blockbuster was starting to show its limitations just a bit in the middle of the 1990’s (which undoubtedly left it open to criticism from folks waiting for their chance to strike).

“But, Ryan, what about the Christmas factor???” So glad you asked. If anything, THE LONG KISS GOODNIGHT is even more Christmassy than LETHAL WEAPON. No longer set in the warm valley of Los Angeles, Black sets this one in the snowy land of Honesdale, Pennsylvania (the fictional home of Schrute Beets, don’tcha know). The inciting incident is a giant small-town Christmas parade. Add a plethora of string lights and some diagetic holiday music, and you’ve got maybe the Christmassy-est non-Christmas movie of the entire goddamn 1990’s.

And yet, as mentioned, the movie was considered something of a failure at the time, making it to only third in the box office on opening weekend. THE LONG KISS GOODNIGHT only managed about $33 mill in the United States and about $62 mill internationally for a combined total of $95, compared against its budget of…$65 mill. Yeah, it surprised me to learn that, for all the hand-wringing, the thing actually made money. It just wasn’t nearly enough as everybody was hoping.

Why was this? Well, there a few unique mitigating factors, perhaps none bigger than the fact that THE LONG KISS GOODNIGHT was the second Renny Harlin-Geena Davis collaboration in about a year. The first was released the previous Christmas, a little movie called…..CUTTHROAT ISLAND, listed in the Guinness Book of World Records as the biggest box-office bomb of all time. Bad time to get back on the horse.

Some, including Harlin himself, also put blame on the bad marketing, which I can’t speak a lot to: the trailer seems pretty straight-forward. There’s also something to be said to the fact that audiences and the media were starting to grow weary of “macho Hollywood”; the tide was starting to turn against guys like Black, who were perceived to be overpaid relative to the quality of his output. This was personified by a strange hit-piece from Variety’s Peter Bart after the script was sold in 1994. He sounded pretty pissed! People were hungry for a change, at least in the media.

However, Shane Black posits that it perhaps THE LONG KISS GOODNIGHT might have been more successful had the gender roles been more traditional:

It might have made more money, they told me, but it had to be a woman. The lead had to be female.'

In the end, it’s probably a mix of all of the above. The fact is that it’s been proven to be enormously difficult to generate a fully original female-led action flick that is profitable enough for the studio that financed it (again, it should be noted that THE LONG KISS GOODNIGHT made money, just not enough; it’s worth considering if the standard would have been so high if Sam Jackson had been in the lead).

For what it’s worth, Jackson himself has looked back on it pretty fondly, going so far to say that it was his favorite movie of his to re-watch. Given he makes 400 movies a year, that’s quite the praise. I’m surprised he didn’t say FARCE OF THE PENGUINS, but no matter.

Regardless, the damage was done. As mentioned, Black essentially went on a decade-long hiatus after this, becoming more well-known for his extravagant parties than FOR writing anything at all. Was it the fallout of the tide starting to turn on him (it should be noted that 1993’s LAST ACTION HERO wasn’t exactly a box office success, either)? Was it the end result of many bad production experiences with studios over the prior decade? Was it just another period of low productivity from a man known for such bouts of writer’s block? Probably a mix of it all.

It also marked a steady decline in Davis’ film output; the only role she played after this until 2009 was as Stuart Little’s mom in the STUART LITTLE trilogy (actually, it’s worse than that, she was voice only in the direct-to-DVD STUART LITTLE 3: CALL OF THE WILD). To be fair, she began to focus on TV after the turn of the century, headlining her own self-titled sitcom, as well as playing the president in 2006’s COMMANDER-IN-CHIEF. But, you know, both those shows ran for a combined 40 episodes. Not great.

It’s hard not to read between the lines. Her pivot into the male world didn’t do as good as we decided it should, you’re now on the wrong side of 35…..see ya later.

It’s why I find it hard to muster up a lot of hatred for Jennifer Lawrence’s words earlier this month. Yes, she completely misspoke, but we’ve forgiven all kinds of gaffes from public figures before, at least from ones we’re not angling to tear down in that moment. The underlying intent and sentiment behind what she was trying (and failing) to express in the Variety video couldn’t be clearer once you really break it down.

It’s still damn near impossible to come up with more than a handful of female action characters that exist as wholly original creations, and not part of some previously existing intellectual property. It’s why it;s crucial we appreciate the ones we do have, even if they were considered underwhelming at the time.

This Christmas, consider taking a trip to Honesdale, Pennsylvania, won’t you?

LETHAL WEAPON: A Very (Shane) Black Christmas!

A CHRISTMAS STORY. IT’S A WONDERFUL LIFE. HOME ALONE. NATIONAL LAMPOON’S CHRISTMAS VACATION. WHITE CHRISTMAS.

The “official” Christmas film canon is somewhat brief, if nevertheless solid. It’s become a lucrative and expansive genre in recent years, thanks to The Hallmark Channel’s infamous churning out of approximately two billion Christmas movies a week, a business practice so hacky that making jokes about it has actually become hacky.

I think the reason the Official Christmas Movie Nice List has become so hallowed is because there doesn’t seem to be that many of them. Halloween provides so many opportunities for watch-list customization due to the fact that horror and suspense thrillers are their own year-round genre. Anything can be watched in the month of October if it passes the “spooky season” vibe check. GET OUT? Halloween movie. THE SHINING? Halloween movie. SUSPIRIA? Halloween movie. HALLOWEEN? Fourth of July movie. Just kidding. Halloween movie.

Christmas, though? Generally speaking, a Christmas movie has to at the very least have one scene that is set on the actual holiday in question. At least one door has to have a wreath or something on it. However, for most people, it seems, Christmas has to be the defining theme of the film for it to count as a “Christmas movie”. It has to be the reason any of these characters are even talking to each other. People all have their own defining lines, but generally, what constitutes a Christmas movie is limited for most.

And that’s a shame for me! One of my great cinematic joys are movies that simply use Christmas as a window dressing for the rest of its story. Christmas as a dramatic vessel, if you will. The “non-Christmas Christmas” movie. It’s an easy way to expand the field of holiday movies and include some of the best, sweetest and most fun films ever made.

And nobody in Hollywood does the “non-Christmas Christmas movie” better than Shane Black. One of the big action screenwriters to come out of the 80’s/90’s blockbuster-issance, Black stood ahead of his peers by having a palpable, almost satiric sense of humor. Where others like Joe Eszterhas made his millions with bullets and greased-up breasts (both male and female), Black wrote his scripts almost like a meta-novel; within his LETHAL WEAPON screenplay, he once described a drug lord’s mansion as “the kind of house I’ll buy if this movie is a huge hit”.

And he loves Christmas! It’s become a staple of A Shane Black Joint to be arbitrarily set during the holidays. Hell, his scripts and movies didn’t even need to be released particularly near December 25th. They can come out in March, May, whenever. Characters are still wearing Santa hats, no matter what.

To honor the strange career arc of this blessedly goofy guy, this month has been declared A Very (Shane) Black Christmas! And there’s no better place to start than the movie that really put “Black the Screenwriter” on the map, the script that featured that aforementioned mansion.

Let’s roll the calendar back to 1987 and revisit LETHAL WEAPON, starring Danny Glover and…..

….uh-oh.

Is it too late for me to ch—-

LETHAL WEAPON

Starring: Mel Gibson, Danny Glover, Gary Busey, Tom Atkins, Darlene Love

Directed by: Richard Donner

Written by: Shane Black

Length: 112 minutes

Released: March 6, 1987

The story of LETHAL WEAPON will ring familiar to anyone who’s ever seen a buddy-cop movie: on the day of his fiftieth birthday, exhausted cop Sergeant Roger Murtaugh (Glover) gets teamed up with Sergeant Martin Riggs (Gibson), a narcotics detective who has recently become dangerous and suicidal due to the recent death of his wife. Murtaugh has been tasked to team with him and determine if he’s faking it or not.

Along the way, Murtaugh has been contacted by an old friend, Michael Hunsaker (Atkins), whose daughter has apparently committed suicide. However, an autopsy shows that she was in reality fatally injected with poisoned drugs, indicating the possibility of murder. As Riggs and Murtaugh follow the trail of evidence, and the involvement of Riggs’ former Special Forces team seems almost certain, the two cops must find a way to bridge their differences and bring justice to the Hunsaker family. Can they do it? What do you think?

The “buddy cop” film genre could theoretically be traced all the way back to Akira Kurosawa’s 1949 film STRAY DOG, although the sub-genre really got going in the 80’s with 48 HRS, the BEVERLY HILLS COP trilogy and RUNNING SCARED (you know, the one with the classic duo of Gregory Hines and….Billy Crystal). The genre thrived in the 1990’s and beyond, with movies like the RUSH HOUR trilogy, LAST ACTION HERO, MEN IN BLACK and 21/22 JUMP STREET simultaneously poking some amount of fun at the genre’s trappings while also conforming to its beats (Roger Ebert once referred to these types of flicks as “Wunza” movies….”one’s a (blank), one’s a (blank)”)

The appeal of the “two diametrically opposed guys having to work together” is obvious for storytellers: the conflict is up-front, easy to dramatize and is satisfying for audiences, even if the more in-tune members know where these types of movies are going. Nobody really minds a formula, as long as it works. All a screenwriter or director really needs to do (besides really study WHY these movies work) is contribute their own personal stamp on the formula, and it’s possible you could have hit on your hands.

Enter Shane Black.

Although it wasn’t his very first script (that honor goes to SHADOW COMPANY, a movie you most definitely haven’t seen because it was never made), Black started his career hitting the ground running anyway, striking it big with just his second spec-script (essentially, a script not written as a request from a studio) that would become LETHAL WEAPON. After selling it for a quarter of a million in 1986, Black zipped away to Mexico to appear on camera in 1987’s PREDATOR. All the while, production began on LETHAL WEAPON.

The diametric difference between LETHAL WEAPON’s two central characters come from the amount of energy they carry: Murtaugh is wiped, Riggs is wired. From there, the “personal stamp” that Black provided that would set LETHAL WEAPON’s script apart from others of its ilk is its twisted sense of humor. Riggs is a very funny character at its baseline; how else to describe a guy whose plan to rescue a suicidal man from a rooftop is to handcuff himself to him and tell him they’ll jump together? But the pain Riggs carries inside of him comes from a very real place: as a result of intense loss. The fine line the movie’s main dynamic straddles between playing this situation for pathos (one of our first scenes with Riggs alone shows him nearly blowing his brains out, tears streaming down his face) and for laughs (the central “comedic beat” of the LETHAL WEAPON franchise is Riggs doing something insane and Murtaugh just kind of rolling his eyes) is commendable, even kind of gutsy.

It should be noted that the movie’s offbeat sense of humor wasn’t actually entirely the doing of Black. Director Richard Donner (years removed from the SUPERMAN drama; you should check out my podcast’s episode on that little movie for more) found the original script just a tad too dark and asked writer Jeffrey Boam to add some levity to the proceedings. Lesson learned for Black? Let’s hold onto that for now and track it going forward.

The duo of Mel Gibson and Danny Glover was put together fairly quickly after the duo dazzled Donner with a reading; they were both signed to a deal by the spring of 1986. Gary Busey was picked up for the film during a fallow period in his career (in the 80’s, this was unusual for Mr. Busey), having to audition for a role for the first time in years.

To round out the major cast, John Carpenter favorite (and star of HALLOWEEN III: SEASON OF THE WITCH) Tom Atkins was cast as Michael Hunsaker, the father of the woman who commits suicide in the film’s ope ing sequence. Finally, long-standing R&B legend Darlene Love was selected to play Trish, Murtaugh’s wife. For whatever reason, the four LETHAL WEAPON movies constitute the vast majority of Love’s filmography. The only other two movies she appeared in as somebody other than herself was in 2019’s HOLIDAY RUSH and in 2020’s THE CHRISTMAS CHRONICLES 2. So there you go.

As a movie, LETHAL WEAPON holds up about as much as you might expect, although it’s difficult to completely detach it from its most obvious Christmas action movie* competition, DIE HARD, which came out about a year later. That Bruce Willis vehicle has sort of taken that very specific crown and has never really looked back, its status no doubt bolstered by having its first sequel ALSO set during Christmas.

* Look. everybody, I don’t want to re-litigate the most annoying piece of holiday discourse since that one year everyone was obsessed with figuring out whether “Baby, It’s Cold Outside” was written in support of sexual assault or not, but DIE HARD is obviously a Christmas movie. Or it isn’t! Who cares! Eye of the beholder! I’d rather stick a gun in my mouth Riggs-style than ever get into an actual argument with somebody about this.

Essentially, LETHAL WEAPON suffers from not being DIE HARD, maybe the best action movie ever made. Oh, well! It’s still a good time (if edgier than you remember), with Gibson’s high-wire “loose cannon” act playing well against the straight-faced, beleaguered Glover. At the end of the day, it’s about those two, and you never get tired of watching them, the real signifier of success for what essentially amounts to another entry in the buddy cop genre.

And let’s not forget the real reason for the season. The Christmas of it all! Even though Christmas doesn’t really factor into the plot, the trappings of the holidays are everywhere. The damn opening scene (where a topless female jumps out of the window of a high-rise, plummeting to her death) is scored to the tune of “Jingle Bell Rock”. One of its most somber “we’re gonna get her back” moments takes place in a living room, with Riggs and Murtaugh framed by a family Christmas tree.

So, does anything hold LETHAL WEAPON back? Well, there’s that guy in the middle of it all.

I’m afraid we have to talk a little bit about Mel Gibson.

Here’s the funny thing about “cancel culture” (a phrase I sorely wish had never entered the cultural lexicon, if only to avoid having to hear people twice my age complain about it, please also see “woke”): who exactly is “cancelled” is eventually up to the individual. For instance, despite having apologized and technically (TECHNICALLY) not having committed a crime, I personally haven’t been able to return to Louis C.K.’s work, despite him being one of my very favorite comedians even as recently as five years ago. Yet, after a brief respite, he’s still out there winning Grammys and selling out shows. He’s cancelled to me, but not for many of ye.

On the other hand, despite wishing he had made better choices, and still sort of waiting for another shoe to drop, I’ve been able to still enjoy John Mulaney’s new material just fine. Not everybody agrees with me on that, deciding the way he’s decided to deal with his addiction has ruined the “harmless man-boy” facade. The facade is really important when you’re a celebrity! Once it’s gone, people don’t always come back, even if you’ve owned up and moved on.

So it goes for Mel Gibson and, boy, lemme tell ya, when I started putting this all together, I knew this would be a delicate conversation. But, I didn’t anticipate his particular….uh, anti-Semitism to become in vogue with so many other celebrities now in 2022. Seeing a certain rapper/mogul/masked man completely melt down has made me reflect quite a bit and really think about how much I want to let Gibson off the hook even now.

The thing is, when people think of “Mel Gibson controversy”, most people remember his 2006 DUI meltdown that led directly to his anti-Semitic outburst, as well as his 2010 leaked voicemail viciously berating his ex-girlfriend by using maybe the one word you really cannot use. But trouble for Gibson started all the way back in 1991 with an interview with Spanish paper El Pais, where he made some, er, colorful statements about homosexuals.

I bring this stuff up not to moralize or condemn (after all, the El Pais interview is over thirty years ago now), but to give context as to why some people aren’t so comfortable enjoying Gibson’s movies anymore, and probably never will again. It’s true that essentially every public transgression in his life can be traced back to alcoholism and he’s admitted as much. But stuff like an A-list star dropping the N-word (yes, it was from a voicemail that we absolutely should never have heard, but the fact that he was willing to say it when he thought nobody was listening is revealing), or a devout and open Catholic going off on Jewish people in a drunken rant (he’s characterized it since as an attempt at “suicide by cop” which….eh) remains startling for many people. Being straight about your addiction can only extend so much grace.

What burns me is that, despite everything, Gibson really did earn his A-list status in his day. It’s not really deniable. Earlier this year, my wife and I watched SIGNS for the first time in maybe twenty years. It’s definitely the first one of M. Night Shyamalan’s major films that showed just the teensiest cracks in his facade, what with the kind of dunderheaded water twist (although I’ve also always hated how Joaquin Phoenix’s character needed to be told the words “swing away” in order to be motivated to pick up a baseball bat and start beating the shit out of an alien….never mind).

But! I was struck at the kind of performance Gibson was giving as Graham Hess, a reverend whose faith has been fundamentally shaken by the gruesome death of his wife (recurring theme for Gibson characters?). It’s a quiet performance, punctuated with awkward, momentary bursts of emotion. It’s mostly all internal, under the surface. It’s damn near perfect.

Compare that with the wild-card energy of LETHAL WEAPON’s Martin Riggs, who is just as comfortable pointing a gun at his own head as he is pointing it at a perp. There couldn’t be two different people than Hess and Riggs, and they both were embodied by the same man.

All of that is what makes him so frustrating to talk about now. You almost wish he was a little more inept as a leading man; it would make it easier to write him off completely. But you can’t! Not entirely. Gibson, at his peak (and even a little after), was undeniably watchable. At least to me.

I also hesitate to hand-wave reconciling his act with his actions away with that “good artists do bad things, get over it” credo, because that’s usually just code for “I’m not giving this particular person up, and I don’t want to be made to feel bad for it”. Again, everybody’s line is different, and it’s fruitless to argue with people about where their personal line ought to be placed. As we’ve observed over the past couple of years, anti-Semitic rants and N-word usage in fits of rage are hard lines for many. Telling those many to get over probably isn’t going to be a long conversation.

Unfortunately, we’ve all had to come to grips with SOME favorite celebrity having their illicit pasts come to light in the For myself, I find it easier to deal with good art from bad people (as I happen to define it; I can’t work off of somebody else’s barometer and neither should you) if the art happens to exist in a time where nobody knew it yet (or at least nobody in the public). It’s not the most perfect test in the world; how does one adjust for changing in social mores (there’s a reason the El Pais wasn’t a deal-breaker in the early 90’s in the way it almost certainly would be now)? What if that previous art has the air of an offender hiding in plain sight (the aforementioned Louis C.K., even….W**** A****)? Your mileage may vary.

Somewhat conveniently for me, LETHAL WEAPON passes that smell test, having comfortably been released in 1987. You may not agree. That’s okay.

At the end of the day, when it comes to celebrities who publicly, spectacularly show their ass, we all have our own guiding principles and dividing lines as to whether not you can ever really enjoy them or not.

It’s a little like how we decide what a Christmas movie is or not.

Sam Raimi Goes Full Looney Tunes with ARMY OF DARKNESS

I’ve given variations on my spiel regarding the difficult reality of sequels; they’re hard, they’re frequently borne out of financial goals rather than creative, and they invite so many opportunities for failure that it’s frankly shocking that Hollywood has essentially kept itself alive in the 21st century through the practice.

What I haven’t had a chance to talk about much (outside of, oddly enough, THE SANTA CLAUSE 3) is the threequel. Third installments in a series usually exist for one of two reasons:

a) the second installment did box office and/or critical numbers beyond anybody’s wild dreams, and studios are trying to ride the wave;

b) the second installment didn’t quite live up to the original, and the studio wants to give it one more try to wring some money out of its would-be intellectual property before giving up the ghost.

In the case of this week’s subject, we’re firmly in A territory. EVIL DEAD II managed to almost double its $3.5 million budget, bringing in around $6 million at the box office. However, much like the gap between 1 and 2, Raimi didn’t roll into EVIL DEAD 3 right away, knocking out DARKMAN in 1990 first. The success of that Liam Neeson superhero vehicle is what allowed Raimi to leverage his newly penned deal with Universal Pictures to unleash what might be considered (in some circles, at least) his most popular film.

Yes, ARMY OF DARKNESS, a movie with a great name and an unforgettable pseudo-old-school aesthetic, with a truly goofy, go-for-broke lead performance in the middle of it all. It’s possible that this movie represented a truly foundational moment in the lives of many modern cinephiles. Naturally, I had never seen it. However, Halloween Night seemed like as good a time as any to check out a movie where a guy with a chainsaw arm takes on an army of stop-motion skeletons.

Let’s wind down EVIL DEAD Month with ARMY OF DARKNESS!

ARMY OF DARKNESS (1993)

Directed by: Sam Raimi

Starring: Bruce Campbell, Embeth Davidtz

Written by: Raimi, Ivan Raimi

Released: February 19, 1993

Length: 81 minutes

The plot of ARMY OF DARKNESS is pretty simple: Ash is still recovering from the events of both THE EVIL DEAD and EVIL DEAD 2, which naturally concluded with him being sucked back into time, stranding him in the 1300’s. Believed to be a rival prince’s spy and stripped of his chainsaw arm, he’s immediately rounded up and led to “the pit”, which leads to the funny visual of his stump shoved into one of the holes of a yoke. Inside “the pit” is a Deadite, which Ash disposes of easily with his sawed-off shotgun. It’s this same shotgun (my apologies, boomstick) that he uses essentially to conquer everybody, with the support and aid of a Wise Man (played by Ian Abercrombie, which warmed this old Seinfeld fan’s heart) who believes Ash to be the prophesied Man From the Sky.

From there, he’s tasked with the retrieval of the Necronomicon and must speak the sacred words that will send him back to his own time (“Klaatu Varata Nicto”, a homage to THE DAY THE EARTH STOOD STILL). Ash half-asses the phrase, and instead unwittingly unleashes the titular Army of Darkness, led by an evil version of himself (it’s a long story). Ash must now fortify all defenses for one final stand-off. In between, there are many, many, MANY shenanigans.

First of all, the on-screen title indicates the movie’s true title is BRUCE CAMPBELL VS. ARMY OF DARKNESS, which is rad. Just one or two syllables too many. People should call this movie BRUCE CAMPBELL VS. ARMY OF DARKNESS.

Second, I was awestruck at how quickly this movie goes down. It’s listed at 81 minutes, but the credits start rolling at 76, which means you feel it wrapping things up at around an hour and nine minutes. It’s SHORT, efficient to the point of near-austerity. It’s all A-plot, with a half-attempt at a romantic “arc” that almost feels like self-parody.

Part of this is due to the fact that the movie was whacked down in order to achieve a PG-13 rating, which explains a lot. Also, despite mega-producer Dino de Laurentiis putting up much of the initial money to get EVIL DEAD III made, Universal Studios ended up taking over in post-production. The original ending, where Ash takes too much of the potion that eventually sends him home, waking up in a post-apocalyptic England, was deemed too bleak. A new ending was created, where Ash returns to his time, bringing Deadites with him.

(Also, side-bar: there are apparently four different versions of this movie; the theatrical cut that I watched, a 96 minute director’s cut, an 88-minute international cut, and another 88-minute US TV version. Does shit like this give anybody else immense anxiety? It all feels like a nasty trap meant to fool me into watching the “wrong” version of something, as well as condemn me into having long conversations with somebody trying to recommend me the version that’s the most “real”. It’s why I’ve never been able to fully engage with BLADE RUNNER, which by my count has 300 different cuts. No thanks!)

Third, there’s a lot to love with ARMY OF DARKNESS. Yes, it leans all the way into the goofiness this time around, with many scenes feeling like the result of some sort of fever dream (did I make up the existence of a sequence of four little Ashes splitting up to torment the real Ash?). Yes, as a result, its sense of humor is much broader than even EVIL DEAD II, with moments of actual slapstick and sections of the film that genuinely operate on Looney Tunes logic. Thus, it’s not going to be for everybody (it wasn’t universally warmly received at the time of its release).

But there’s something admirable and respectable about a third installment of a franchise that decides to pivot away from the balance of elements that made the previous ones work in order to see if something entirely new can be created. It helps that EVIL DEAD is not a multi-million dollar franchise (just a remarkably profitable one), so the stakes aren’t quite as high as they would be for, say, THE MATRIX or STAR WARS. But it takes genuine creative nerve to intentionally alter the formula to see what else can be created.

As a result, ARMY OF DARKNESS stands apart from its two predecessors in terms of its comedic tone and cartoony inspiration. But it also feels like the movie has its own distinct fanbase, separate from the bigger EVIL DEAD fandom. As mentioned last week, some of the movie’s advocates speak about it like it’s a stand-alone movie instead of a second sequel to a film that had come out a decade prior. It’s notable that it isn’t called EVIL DEAD III. ARMY OF DARKNESS is dang near an island unto itself.

Where I sometimes struggled with ARMY OF DARKNESS was with its characterization of Ash this time around. To be clear, one of the great virtues of the EVIL DEAD trilogy as a whole is that all three movies are more or less stand-alone takes on the same basic idea (dashing hero takes on evil special-effect monsters in bloody fashion). In that sense, it’s fun to track Campbell broadening up his performance to match the material being put before him. And the wisecracking hero archetype actually fits him quite well. It helps that, outside of having movie star good looks, he kind of looks like a normal guy. He’s not particularly muscle-bound like similar actors who took on these types of roles earlier in the 1980’s. You buy him just as much as a sales associate at a Walmart knock-off as you do heroically chainsawing bonies.

It’s just…I dunno, some of these one-liners are awfully broad. “You ain’t leadin’ but two things right now, jack and shit! And Jack just left town!” feels like something someone would come up with at a an improv class, met with brutal silence. Also, it feels like a longer sentence than anything he’s ever said in either EVIL DEAD I or II. It’s especially jarring considering that in in-universe time, something like five seconds have elapsed from the end of PART 2 to the beginning of PART 3. Not sure why he’s so cocky all of a sudden.

It all makes Ash just a little too cool, for seemingly no reason than “we haven’t tried this angle with him yet”. In a vacuum, this is fine: the EVIL DEAD series is all about its audacity, and it says something about me that this seemed like the most audacious move yet. It just all made me glad there’s no real EVIL DEAD 4, lest Ash start becoming an actual animated character running around like the Tasmanian Devil.

It also often crosses over from the camp notes of EVIL DEAD 2 straight into legitimate hamminess. The scene where Ash runs through the three Necronomicon books feels like a Bugs Bunny cartoon, complete with enormous animated reactions as he gets his hand bitten and his face sucked in by the magical books. As always, it’s ever audacious, but it’s a major jump from where we were with EVIL DEAD 2.

(Okay, I did genuinely like Ash’s “welcome to the 21st century” line, made all the funnier given that the movie was made firmly in the 20th.)

I think part of what I’m having a visceral reaction to with Ash’s comedy act is what this movie so clearly wrought in the young and teenage boys that consumed this movie like so much Mountain Dew. I didn’t know it at the time, but I grew up with a lot of people in the periphery who were clearly trying to copy this version of Ash, the smart-ass action hero who also mugs for the camera. Imagine, if you will, the seven year old version of Campbell’s performance here. These were the same kids whose senses of humor were triggered into existence the first time they saw ACE VENTURA: PET DETECTIVE. There’s nothing wrong with any of this on the face of it! But they were EXHAUSTING kids to be around. I say this as someone who actively tried to be like Bugs Bunny for the entirety of the first act of my life. Little Ashes were rough, even for me.

Back to the good! Easily the stars of this show are those skeletons that make up the titular Army of Darkness. It’s all so intentionally an homage to stuff like JASON AND THE ARGONAUTS and THE 7TH VOYAGE OF SINBAD, it’s a nice natural extension of where Raimi drew his influences from as a young man, AND they look so good. If this was the sole reason for this movie existing, it would have been worth it.

Sam Raimi’s legitimate talent as a director (and director of traffic) comes into play during this “final sequence”. He has a great sense for spacing and, for lack of a better term, what’s going to look cool. Production notes indicate that the fight choreography was particularly hellish, given that…you know…most of the fights he’s in are with people who aren’t there. He had to rely on a numbering system in order to keep everything straight. Raimi chose the audience over his actor in this regard, almost gleefully upping the ante and difficulty for every sequence. “Make him go through torture!” he allegedly stated.

It paid off. Campbell fighting off fully realized stop-motion skeletons with a sword on the steps of a castle goes as far to make Ash Williams the cool-yet-rubberfaced hero they were going for as a mountain of quips do. This battle scene, and its many mini-arcs and abundance of bits, are absolutely the highlight of ARMY OF DARKNESS. Also, maybe the biggest belly laugh I’ve had in a long time came from this sequence, and it’s where Evil Ash gets launched into the sky by a catapult before exploding like a firework for no apparent reason. Perhaps this says something about me more than ARMY OF DARKNESS. But there it is.

As far as the finale, set in the S-Mart that Ash otherwise works in? It’s fine, and feels in line with Ash as the cool action hero guy, although it seems to take on an almost satirical tone by the time they reach the movie’s final seconds. It’s big, it’s brash, Campbell completes his legacy as a dashing goofball (BRISCOE COUNTY JR. is right around the corner!), and it helps tie in the little glimpse of pre-EVIL DEAD Ash we get right at the beginning.

But I can’t help but think that the “alternate” ending fits the overall vibe of the EVIL DEAD franchise as a whole. Ash is nothing if not kind of a dummy barreling his way through a bizarre situation (another reason why his cool guy act is a little off-putting here), and the idea of him accidentally sleeping too much and ending up in the post-apocalyptic world is intriguing and totally in character with where Ash theoretically should be.

Looking back, I think what I respect the most about ARMY OF DARKNESS is its go-for-broke nature, as if everybody involved was imbued with the understanding that they weren’t going to be able to keep getting away with it forever, so they decided to cram in everything they ever wanted to do with the first two and then dared anybody to complain about it. In a world now where blockbuster movies keep teasing better movies ahead (as long as you keep showing up), it’s really, really satisfying to see an imaginative action-fantasy-horror flick that refuses to leave anything on the table.

If just for that reason alone, ARMY OF DARKNESS was pretty groovy.

EVIL DEAD II And the Art of Doubling Down

The balance of risk versus reward is a wildly volatile one to even out when it comes to doing a sequel.

Creating a successful artistic follow-up requires the ability to fully and fairly evaluate the work you are trying to follow up on, and then determine possible ways to improve upon it. The task becomes exponentially harder when the work you’re evaluating is your own. It requires an incredible amount of honesty and vulnerability, assuming you’re actually in the position to be able to call a plurality of the shots on the follow-up project at all.

What things really worked the first time around? What things did you wish you had possessed the knowledge or experience to do? What did you want to avoid? Most of all, how can you provide your audience what they want without just redoing the same things you did the first time?

As discussed last week, THE EVIL DEAD was a perfectly functional, gnarly little stand-alone feature all on its own that managed to stand out mostly for its willing audacity to be gross and off-putting, but through the prism of a cartoon. Sam Raimi was able to make a name for himself off that independent feature, and then moved on from the property for about half a decade. He promptly got to work on his next feature, CRIMEWAVE, which he wrote with another up-and-coming pair, the Coen brothers. The movie ultimately didn’t go the way he wanted, a result of an overly ambitious tone and constant interference from a demanding studio. CRIMEWAVE has since fallen into relative obscurity.

However, it seemed to have strengthened the bond between Raimi and his previous leading man, Bruce Campbell, who was barred from being the lead of this film after being forced to screen-test for the part. As the hands of fate would have it, this shared lack of artistic catharsis brought the two back together with the property that worked so well for them the first time: THE EVIL DEAD. Raimi decided to make good on an offer that producer Irvin Shapiro had made upon the first installment’s release, and got to work on a sequel treatment. The road to EVIL DEAD II had officially been paved.

Here’s the thing about the original EVIL DEAD: the surprise of it all had already been established. Although it would constitute an understandable route, it wouldn’t truly be enough to just throw red goop all over the camera and the actors again and call it a day. There would need to be new surprises in store.

So where to go from here?

From my observation, EVIL DEAD 2 is kind of known as “the good one” amongst the film aficionados in my friend circles. ARMY OF DARKNESS is probably the most well-known of the three, possibly because its name is extremely metal, as well as because it sounds like a stand-alone film (it seems like many people may have initially seen it not knowing it was the third installment to a franchise). But the middle entry of the original EVIL DEAD trilogy, pound for pound,seems to have the most praise heaped on it. Therefore, I had a lot of expectations for this thing going into it.

I’m happy to report it lived up to the hype! It’s a clear improvement over the already pretty good original, and it does it with a particular secret sauce: it infuses the bloody horror with a legitimate comedic sensibility that was already sitting around the fringes of the original.

In short, it trades in some of its blood in exchange for belly laughs. And it rocks!

EVIL DEAD 2 (1987)

Directed by: Sam Raimi

Starring: Bruce Campbell, Sarah Berry, Dan Hicks, Kassie Wesley

Written by: Raimi, Scott Spiegel

Released: March 13, 1987

Length: 84 minutes

To kick things off, it should be noted that I have an affinity for movie trilogies where the main character winds up dealing with three films worth of inciting actions, character arcs and denouments over an insanely compressed timeline. For instance, everything that happens to Marty McFly in the BACK TO THE FUTURE trilogy appears to take place over the span of like four nights or something (that’s an estimation; please don’t make me research this). No more significant time jumps between movies in your trilogies, people! Just let your characters go through the worst weekend ever!

Here, EVIL DEAD and EVIL DEAD 2 seems to take place over no more than two nights, constituting quite the weekend for Ash Williams (Campbell). To my immense surprise, given how the first movie ended, EVIL DEAD 2 picks up immediately where the first one leaves off. Well, maybe not exactly. In one of the little quirks that define this series, the opening five or so minutes is actually more of a streamlined remake/recap of the original film (the reason for this apparently being that Raimi and co didn’t have the rights to the first movie, eliminating the possibility of just using old footage to serve as a recap. Ah, the biz!).

In EVIL DEAD 2’s retelling of the original events at the cabin in the woods, it jettisons pretty much every character from the narrative except Ash and his girlfriend Linda (here played by Denise Bixler). But otherwise, it’s all there; the getaway to a cabin in the woods, the playing of the audio cassette, the evil forces, the decapitation of Linda and, of course, that infamous and chilling moment (and tracking shot!) at the end where Ash seemingly gets possessed himself.

It’s at this moment that EVIL DEAD 2 truly begins. It’s also at this moment that it begins to separate itself from the original by striking an immediately different tone. It turns out that Ash isn’t getting possessed per se, so much as merely being thrown through the forest by the evil demon spirits that roam the cabin.

I knew EVIL DEAD 2 was going to be different when Ash starts zooming past the trees, his body spinning around the camera like a member of the Looney Tunes.

To be clear, the movie doesn’t skimp out of the bloody carnage that the original had; there are at least two moments that rival Johnny Depp’s death in the first NIGHTMARE ON ELM STREET for “most outlandish use of Red Dye 40”. But there’s this gleeful sense of humor that cuts through the guts of it all that I think makes this follow-up more palatable to the average person than the first one.

Part of that off-beat sense of fun comes from the movie’s use of stop-motion animation. Stop-motion and EVIL DEAD are almost as synonymous in the popular consciousness as Sam Raimi and Bruce Campbell, but I had completely forgotten that it was an aspect of these until the first one appeared. That first one, of course, is the resurrected corpse of Linda, which promptly starts dancing around like she lives in Halloweentown. It’s a whiplash-inducing moment coming off of EVIL DEAD 1. In that first film, the possessed start looking really decomposed and gushy, and they emit loud, nasty noises. Here, they look like clay people and they start dancing. We’re in different territory here!

Another stark difference: that opening third of the movie! For a significant amount of time, I thought that EVIL DEAD 2 was going to be a Bruce Campbell one man show. The film is short enough, all of the material is strong enough and, most importantly, Bruce Campbell is game enough that it probably could have worked if they had decided to commit to the direction of “Ash vs. Demons”. It’s unlike anything I had ever seen before, and I envy those who got to see it for the first time in its proper setting (i.e. a teenager renting it blind, going over to their friend’s house, and then just popping it in, joint in hand).

Of course, the movie does eventually kick into another gear. They slowly work in an initially adjacent plot line, as we watch Annie (Berry) make her way to the cabin, which turns out to have been previously occupied by her father, archeologist Raymond Knowby, the source of the voice on the inciting audio cassette. In tow is her research partner, Ed Getley (Richard Domeier) and two others they pick up along the way: repairman Jake (Dan Hicks) and girlfriend Bobby Joe (Wesley).

Once the foursome join Ash, the movie starts resembling the first one in structure. In fact, it nearly threatens to repeat the infamous “tree scene”, although it rounds off its own edges before it gets too rough (a sign of Raimi’s budding maturity at the time?). But, otherwise, it plays out in a way you might expect. Background is provided on the ancient spirits, characters are picked off one by one, blood is sprayed everywhere, and Chekov’s Chainsaw eventually gets to pay off in a glorious way.

So yeah, EVIL DEAD 2 is a supremely satisfying watch, presuming you’re into this kind of thing at all (I’m guessing you haven’t read this far if you aren’t). Like its predecessor, it’s a tight, efficient little thing, clocking in at just about 85 minutes or so. There’s a nice escalation in scale with the monsters; the “final boss” is particularly cool looking and seemed to evoke some of the gnarlier effects in John Carpenter’s THE THING.

Best of all, EVIL DEAD 2 led me to a mini-revelation. This is because it allowed me to finally, truly understand the Bruce Campbell thing.

It took me until EVIL DEAD 2 to really “get” Campbell’s appeal. I never disliked him, but people seem to REALLY love him, and most of the roles I had actually seen him in were playing off of that initial appeal and reputation. And, look, I like that people like stuff. But for a long while, I worried that he was just this cultural inside joke that I had failed to get the context for (I had to be there).

And here he is, covered in blood, eyes bugged out, practically bouncing off the walls of this cabin, yelling and screaming at claymation creatures and cutting off his own damn possessed arm (I FINALLY get why his cameo in DOCTOR STRANGE 2 was so joyful to so many). It’s an over-the-top segment, and it’s played and presented in an equally over-the-top way. But it’s also weirdly justified internally. If we presume the action in EVIL DEAD 2 to be really happening (which can sometimes be a good barometer to judge subsequent performances), how else would you act if you were Ash?

Watching actors just kind of “go for it” can sometimes be an uncomfortable experience; to pull a few examples from this here blog, I’ve never really warmed to Jack Nicholson’s performance in THE SHINING, and I thought Robert DeNiro was completely out of control in the 1991 CAPE FEAR remake. But Campbell never really feels not in control in EVIL DEAD 2. His off-the-wall performance fits the situation, establishes the tone that Raimi is trying to go for and, most importantly, makes for a totally unique movie-going experience.

It also helps that this aspect of Ash subsides as new characters are introduced. He doesn’t convert to a one-liner-spewing action hero by the end, but he does get these weird lines that feel like entire moments. For instance, there’s nothing to him saying, “groovy” on the page, but in the context of the film, it’s practically applause-worthy (it helps that “groovy” has kind of burrowed its way into film culture as a result of this movie).

On a final note, I even loved the ending, which might read to audiences of today as blatant sequel fodder, and I’m well aware that is where ARMY OF DARKNESS picks up. But in the context of just EVIL DEAD 2, it’s the movie’s final dark joke. The almost thrown away setup of “The Man in The Sky” that we get halfway through pays off so beautifully by the man being (surprise!) Ash himself, now thrown back into the 1300’s, that it frankly would have worked just as perfectly if these were the last frames of the EVIL DEAD franchise.

But, as we know now, this aren’t the last frames of this particular IP. It would take another half-a-decade but Ash Williams’ cinematic story would be extended one more time. Speaking of the 1300’s…

Coming Halloween night: ARMY OF DARKNESS!

THE EVIL DEAD And the Absolute Audacity

Sam Raimi did what seems impossible this year.

He managed to make an MCU movie that seemed to take a chance on a choice.

I should tell you up top that I say this from a place of love. I’m certainly no Marvel hater; I’ve been there from the beginning! But even I have to acknowledge that so often, Marvel Studios is more comfortable hitting doubles or bunts every at-bat, rather than risking the chance of a strike-out on a home run swing. Call it the curse of the “formula”, which necessitates a “not great, not terrible, just enjoyable” feel to many of their offerings in order to move the overarching story along.

But, with DOCTOR STRANGE IN THE MULTIVERSE OF MADNESS? The MCU made a choice, one that seemed to make some of their biggest fans genuinely upset.

The reason for this is that they went for the Scarlet Witch heel-turn and didn’t actively try to buy it back the way they’re often tempted to in order to keep their heroes….well, heroic. Wanda’s hands don’t remain clean; she literally murders people. Critically, she makes these choices of her own volition as opposed to being manipulated by an outside force; even if you could argue she’s influenced by dastardly tome the Darkhold, she seeks this book out herself. Even when she “comes to her senses”, it’s basically too late. Her current status is unknown.

This all admittedly sounds fairly toothless compared to stand-alone adult features, but kicking the stan culture hornet’s nest the way DOCTOR STRANGE 2 does constitutes genuine creative courage for this type of fare. There are countless people online who have made Elizabeth Olsen’s Scarlet Witch character a part of their personality, a core piece of their identity. And now she’s a murderer. And best of all, assuming you have a Disney Plus subscription, it’s a heel turn perfectly justified by the storyline that came before it. It was kind of thrilling! (I’m sort of pro-anything that shakes people’s weird melding of their actual selves into fictional characters, but I will quickly digress.)

I’m largely tempted to lay much of DOCTOR STRANGE 2’s successes on Sam Raimi being at the helm for this one. Although nobody would ever confuse it for an independent feature, there are enough of his unique flourishes that it seemed like Kevin Feige and the rest of the Marvel Studios creative staff were comfortable letting his personality shine through.

As we know, it didn’t necessarily have to turn out this way. Many directors with a certain aesthetic and vision have entered the Marvel machine only to get chewed up and spit back out. Edgar Wright never did get to make his ANT-MAN movie. Chloe Zhao’s ETERNALS definitely has its fans and defenders, but landed with a wet thump for most people. Who the hell knows what happened with Alan Taylor’s THOR: THE DARK WORLD. Heck, Raimi only got the DOCTOR STRANGE gig due to a falling out between Marvel and the original returning director Scott Derrickson.

Happily, though, Raimi managed to make the dang thing a Raimi film! Stuff like Wanda killing beloved Marvel characters making cameos (which felt like meta-commentary to me), and a finale involving a walking Strange zombie corpse just feels like something a director-for-hire wouldn’t have thought to put in their superhero sequel. Seeing him manage to thread the needle between corporate demand and artistic demand was strangely nostalgic to me.

This is because, of course, my introduction to Raimi was his previous superhero productions, the original SPIDER-MAN trilogy.

Admittedly, those movies have some tangible details that haven’t aged super well; the special effects actually get worse as the series went on, SPIDER-MAN 3 just doesn’t really work at its core, some of the pop music that got attached to the series are more hilarious post-9/11 artifacts than lasting treasures.

But, dammit, the movies at their core work. Yes, they were primarily an enormous success financially; I still remember the movie making $100 million on its opening weekend back in May of 2002, which felt like a phenomenal amount of money at the time (not that box office money means anything anymore in the age of streaming). But they were also successful creatively, at least most of the time. The movies understood that the key to a great Spider-Man story is to put his alter ego Peter Parker through the ringer at every and any opportunity; even when he wins, he loses. The stories don’t need to be Batman-style dark, they just need to be enacted with a certain sense of irony.

Superpowers have to be a burden for Peter, never more so than when he tries to lift it from his shoulders.

This principle, by the way, is one that the MCU Spider-Man films, as charming and whiz-bang as they generally are, have by and large shied away from. Tom Holland is great, and I’ve enjoyed all three of his stand-alone features, but making him essentially the trust-fund kid of Tony Stark for most of the trilogy has never felt quite right, regardless of where the character stands now. Sorry.

Reflecting on these movies made me realize that Sam Raimi has been a surprisingly constant presence in my life. It also made me realize that this October would be the perfect time to double back and check out the Raimi trilogy that FIRST put him on the map, the EVIL DEAD trilogy.

For those somehow unfamiliar, THE EVIL DEAD is a series of movies that has, against all reason, mange to maintain itself past the 90’s and into the 21st century, with legacy sequels/remakes and television extensions.

I don’t recall if I’ve elucidated on this or not in the past, but I’m a relative latecomer to horror, and especially to GOREY horror. My mom had a definitive aversion to movies that were particularly violent when I was growing up, so something like THE EVIL DEAD would…uh, not have been on the menu. I don’t really blame her or anything; violence is a constant in life that one would be wise to not expose their children to too early (we have the rest of their lives to deal with it, ya know?)

One of the (only) benefits of being an adult, though, is that I can generally watch whatever I want, up to and including a trilogy of super-bloody horror movies.

So here I go! Forty-plus years later, here’s me catching myself up on a series of midnight features that I hadn’t seen before. Let’s see if Raimi can put a smile on my face again!

THE EVIL DEAD (1981)

Directed by: Sam Raimi

Starring: Bruce Campbell, Ellen Sandweiss, Richard DeManincor, Betsy Baker, Theresa Tilly

Written by: Raimi

Released: October 15, 1981

Length: 85 minutes

Most people know the plot of the original EVIL DEAD, and if you don’t, it’s absurdly simple: four college students drive out to the woods of Tennessee to a cabin to enjoy a weekend of debauchery, only to start becoming possessed by ancient demons after a discovery of an audio cassette unleashes an ancient curse. Our fivesome: Ash Williams (Campbell), his girlfriend Linda (Baker), his sister Cheryl (Sandweiss), their friend Scotty (DeManincor) and his girlfriend Shelly (Tilly).

This super-simple, almost austere starting plot was a seemingly popular one in the early 80’s; for instance, the original FRIDAY THE 13TH is a series of teenagers staying at a cursed summer camp and getting picked off one by one. That’s it! The appeal of this particular set-up is obvious. A) It’s a ridiculously cheap premise to make a movie off of; ya just gotta find a cabin and a few young people willing to be covered in red goo, and B) it’s an easy situation for a potential audience member to imagine themselves in the middle of. Haven’t we ALL gone to a location that’s a little too off the beaten path just because it somehow sounded like a good idea at the time? No? Hmmm.

Their first night at the cabin, Cheryl finds that her hand has been possessed by some mysterious force; because it’s a movie, she makes the curious decision to keep this to herself. The evening turns from bad to worse as a trapdoor pops open all by itself during dinner. Because it’s a movie, they all head downstairs rather than close the door. Down below, they find a skin-covered Book of the Dead and a cassette tape filled with incantations. A play-through of the tape unleashes the souls of evil demons and spirits, although this is initially unknown to our cast of characters.

Inevitably, Cheryl becomes fully possessed (the manner of which we’ll discuss in a second). From there, it’s a game of Last Man/Woman Standing, as our characters either die or become possessed themselves. I hate to spoil a forty-year movie, but it should come as no surprise to anybody even vaguely paying attention to pop culture that Bruce’s Ash is the sole survivor, although THE EVIL DEAD’s final seconds put into question how much he really survived at all.

Look, for as much as there’s all this implied mythology at EVIL DEAD’s core, what with the presence of all these demons, a Sumerian curse, and an evil Darkhold-esque tome at the center of everything, the point of the movie is the blood and the gore. And there’s a LOT of it.

“Blood and guts”- type horror isn’t my natural go-to, mostly because there tends to be a nihilism behind those types of features that burns me out more than anything else, especially when there’s an attempt to make it “realistic” (oh lord, like all we need is more realism in our violence nowadays). But sometimes, movies apply such an ungrounded logic to their gore that it actually goes all the way back around to being kind of appealing? For instance, KILL BILL VOL. 1 is SO violent that it doesn’t actually register as something happening to an actual human (which might be its own form of nihilism, but that’s a whole other conversation). At that point, you’re kind of just watching a cartoon.

And THE EVIL DEAD is such an absolutely audacious cartoon. And I think that’s its great appeal. I mean, people eventually start bleeding white and yellow goop out of their wounds. How can you really consume the images you’re seeing as hardcore grindhouse fare at that point? Just sit back and enjoy the mess. If you can, try to figure out how much cornstarch must have given its life in order to bring us this insane tale.

There’s such a relentless, over-the-top, low fidelity nature to its gore that all you can really do at a certain point is laugh; when all the various corpses started arbitrarily exploding at the end, there was nothing else for me to do but start cackling.

The movie isn’t without its frustrations: the point of the original EVIL DEAD movie is the spectacle of the special effects and the brazen audacity behind them. As a result, I don’t know how compelling I found our cast of characters as actual human characters beyond being vessels for said special effects. Bruce Campbell stood out as the obvious cream of the crop to me, but it’s impossible to tell at this point if this is a result of his inherent stardom (nobody looks quite as accessibly handsome as young Bruce Campbell) or the mere fact that his name is synonymous with Sam Raimi and EVIL DEAD now. He might have just stood out because I knew he was going to be the last man standing.

Then there’s the movie’s biggest moment of infamy, the aforementioned moment of possession for Cheryl. I haven’t figured out how exactly to tackle the, um, tree rape scene. On the one hand, it kind of comes out of absolutely nowhere, it’s uncomfortable, and even Sam Raimi himself has expressed regret about including it in the first place, blaming it on a too-young mind. However, If I could mount a defense of it, I’d argue it somehow feels less exploitative than other scenes of its ilk due to the fact that it’s not particularly titillating or erotic. For whatever reason, it might have hit much differently for me if the offender were another human (or at least a human-esque being), as opposed to an obviously fake tree made up of practical effects. I ultimately could have done without it, but I somehow felt less embarrassed for Ellen Sandweiss than if it were more rooted in reality. YMMV.

Still….as mentioned, an early star role for then-unknown Campbell, some genuine moments of terrifying tension (the scene where everyone is playing cards before everything hits the fan seems to take a page from the famous ALIEN playbook), some insane character design….it’s no surprise to me at all that this movie hit big with certain audiences. Especially in the very early eighties, where the blockbuster era was firmly solidifying itself within Hollywood and America at large, here came this tiny, goofy movie with an almost alienating amount of blood bloody, a film almost built to be enjoyed but not mass-produced. And now Campbell’s playing Ash on the Starz Plus app or whatever. Life is strange.

That all said, I had a good time with THE EVIL DEAD, although it does feel like the best way to maximize your viewing experience is to screen this movie as either a midnight movie at a second-run movie theatre, or with a scratchy lo-fi VHS copy that you’ve popped into your VCR during a sleepover. The vibe is just so gloriously micro-budget at its core and its heart that it basically demands to be watched on a bad, beaten-up print. I couldn’t imagine this one getting the Criterion 4K experience.

Perhaps the real legacy of the first EVIL DEAD movie is that it was the fulcrum for an enormous franchise: five official movies, five video game adaptations, a cable television series, a bunch of comic books, and a full-fledged musical! And it all stemmed from a college kid screwing around in the woods with his friends. It’s proof positive that lasting art can come from almost anywhere. All you really need, besides a couple of grand in your pocket, a little luck, and the youthful stupidity not to know that you can’t, is the wherewithal to finish your project.

And I think that’s legitimately inspiring.

CRUEL JAWS Charts Wild Waters

(Okay, so this intro is to be read/sung to the tune of Taylor Swift’s 2019 magnum opus Cruel Summer. CRUEL JAWS, Cruel Summer….you see how it’s funny. Why didn’t I go with the more popular and widely known 1983 Bananarama song, also called Cruel Summer? Well, because I hadn’t thought of it until three-quarters of the way through, and I’m now pot committed.

Anyway….to be sung to the tune of Taylor Swift’s Cruel Summer)

Spielberg made JAWS in ‘75

You know that we loved him

Bad, bad films, followed up more than twice

You know that we hate them

Bruno Mattei made it okay

William Snyder, that was his assumed name

Movie’s really bad, a good time was had

I thought JAWS was dead, now I want more

And it's gold, this shitty movie

It's old, the footage it’s got

And it's ooh, whoa, oh

It's CRUEL JAAAAWS

It's cool, that's what they told us

No rules in JAWS franchise heaven

But ooh, whoa oh

It's CRUEL JAAAAWS

With you

CRUEL JAWS (1995)

Directed by: Bruno Mattei (under the name of William Snyder)

Starring: Richard Dew, David Luther, George Barnes Jr, Scott Silveria

Written by: Robert Feen, Linda Morrison, Mattei

Released: September 26, 1995

Length: 96 minutes

What is CRUEL JAWS? Well, what isn’t CRUEL JAWS?

In a way, it’s yet another follow-up to the 1975 original JAWS movie, or least kind of a remake, in the sense that a major public event in danger of being cancelled sits at the middle of everything. It seems pretty clear from the several violent shark attacks that an annual regatta should be cancelled. Alas, there’s a greedy public official that insists it must go on for REASONS! That feels enough like the JAWS we know and love, right? I mean, there’s even JAWS footage in CRUEL JAWS. What more do you need? Heck, CRUEL JAWS was even marketed as JAWS 5 in some markets.

Well, the problem is that CRUEL JAWS is in no way affiliated with the Universal film franchise, nor does it follow any of the Brody family members we’ve seen in the first four movies. Its only real connection, besides the vague outline mentioned above, is the shark and the fact that they put the word JAWS in the title. It’s barely a movie, if you start really considering what a movie might be “defined” as. Does it matter if, like, a third of your film is footage of other movies entirely?

What CRUEL JAWS really is, then, is an early version of one of those Asylum movies that are meant to trick the most uncritical among the world’s population, the off-brand bagged cereal version of Hollywood blockbusters. They’re the people behind such beloved classics as TRANSMORPHERS, SNAKES ON A TRAIN, THE DA VINCI TREASURE, AVENGERS GRIMM: TIME WARS, THE FAST AND THE FIERCE….these are just the ones I felt like looking up. They’re un-lovingly dubbed “mockbusters”, mostly meant to give actors like C. Thomas Howell something to do with the intent of people at home not looking too closely at what they’re clicking on with their Amazon Prime account.

Anyway, that’s what CRUEL JAWS is. It’s more or less a shitty photocopy of the 1975 original, although it often goes above and beyond the call of duty. The movie splices in footage from the other four JAWS movies, as well as lifting the majority of its final act from another Italian sharksploitation movie, 1989’s DEEP BLOOD. Again, they even had the nerve to straight up advertise this in some markets as JAWS 5, something that was almost certainly illegal.

The “unofficial sequel” to another, more popular movie is a long-standing cinematic tradition that’s still alive and well to this day. All it really takes to get into the game is a good understanding of your country’s copyright laws, as well as knowledge of who, if anybody, owns the rights to your preferred intellectual property. Just staying in Italy, the undisputed kings of this particular art form, there’s at least 30 unofficial sequels to 1967’s DJANGO, and countless unofficial follow-ups to George Romero’s NIGHT OF THE LIVING DEAD. There are also waaaay more unofficial TERMINATOR follow-ups than you might be aware of. Here in the United States, within the past ten years, we’ve had unofficial follow-ups to such heavy-hitting movies as EASY RIDER and RAGING BULL.

Thus comes CRUEL JAWS, one amongst many in the “sharksploitation” genre (started by JAWS, reignited with stuff like DEEP BLUE SEA, and forever bolstered by the endless SHARKNADO series). There are many crappy shark movies, but only one brave enough to basically just call itself JAWS. However, it’s insane enough that fans have embraced it as a sort-of “fifth Beatle” of JAWS movies anyway.

The plot of CRUEL JAWS insomuch as it matters: in Hampton Bay, Florida, rich landlord Samuel Lewis (Barnes. Jr) is set to foreclose on the aquarium/theme park owned by Dag Soerensen (Dew). Despite the fact that there never appears to be any guests coming to this place in any of the scenes set at this property, this comes as a total shock to Dag, who has a little wheelchair-bound daughter to take care of, Suzy (Kristen Urso).

At the same time, a bunch of dumb guys are scuba diving in the middle of the sea to find the remains of an old military ship, the Cleveland, in the hopes of finding and selling top secret Navy documents. Alas, they all get attacked and eaten by a tiger shark.

It is against this backdrop that we get our classic JAWS situation: there’s a big Regatta coming up. Do we cancel due to the tiger shark out there that literally killed three people, or do we just kinda shrug and pretend we didn’t hear anything about it? What about little Suzy? The answer to this question determines who will be our heroes and who will be our villains.

From there, the Regatta goes on to be a spectacular and bloody mess, the local mafia gets involved, it’s revealed that Cruel Jaws is the result of some government experiment (oh, spoilers, I guess), the shark takes out an entire helicopter, and Suzy almost gets her very own MAC AND ME moment.

Okay, sounds pretty bad, right? So, what is there to recommend with CRUEL JAWS? Well, for starters, Richard Dew looks exactly like Hulk Hogan, which helps almost any film. The movie is also sort of watchable in its low budget badness, the kind of movie Mystery Science Theatre 3000 might have gotten around to in its original incarnation if it had existed for another couple of years. It contains probably four or five of the worst performances I’ve ever seen in a movie, even at the low standards something like CRUEL JAWS inherently implies. Whether this is enticing in any way, I leave up to you, but it speaks to the brazen “who gives a fuck” nature to the whole enterprise. Finally, as mentioned, much of its key action is spliced in from other movies. Don’t worry, though, you definitely can tell exactly what is “new” footage and what is shitty, grainy stolen footage.

Then, of course, there’s the CRUEL JAWS theme. It’s a wild little tune, a melody that is pretty clearly just a bunch of film score snippets stapled together and played over and over. I had read about it ahead of time, so I knew it was coming, and yet, nothing really prepares you for the Star Wars theme to start playing in the middle of a completely unrelated movie, does it? It still came as a total surprise to me. Isn’t this illegal? Can’t Lucasfilm shut this entire production down in a second and end the careers of everybody involved? CRUEL JAWS don’t care, baby! They have a scene that needs scoring, STAR WARS is a beloved movie….just give the people what they want!

(Also, the rest of the theme sounded so familiar to me, especially its opening, epic salvo. I don’t believe for a second that a single note of it was written specifically for this movie. Does anybody know where else Mattei pulled from in order to create this masterpiece?)

I think it’s all these factors (plus, so many more, but at what point am I ruining the potential mystifying fun that is CRUEL JAWS for you?) that make this “mockbuster” so fun, and why it’s actually sort of truly the defacto JAWS 5, or at least an essential part of the franchise for the dedicated. You just don’t see stuff like this quite so often. There are an infinite number of unbelievably amateur movies made every year/month/day. There are also a seemingly infinite number of mind-numbing IP extensions made every summer. You just don’t expect to see those two subgenres merge like this, in a way that feels against the law. Why is the STAR WARS theme playing? Why is that the line reading they kept in the final cut? Why did Mattei pick William Snyder as his nom-de-plume and not his more-common much cooler alias Vincent Dawn? Why is every character seemingly obsessed with ripping people’s balls off? The only man who can answer these questions died for our sins about 2,000 years ago and thus has done enough for us already.

By the way, don’t let the above make you think CRUEL JAWS is the forgotten THE ROOM or BIRDEMIC or anything. It often drags or, more accurately, just sits there and frustrates. It stacks plot elements on top of each other in desperate search of something that sticks. I would argue, though, that this is all part of the CRUEL JAWS experience. At the end of the day, it shouldn’t be all that satisfying, because that would imply that the movie had an end goal to entertain anybody. Say what you want about Tommy Wiseau, but that guy at least wants you to have a good time. Bruno Mattei is just here for the cash-in; any pleasure derived from his work is purely coincidental.

In a sense, CRUEL JAWS is the perfect logical end to our deep dive into this seminal shark franchise. After all, there is no movie that could better position itself as the complete photo negative of the original JAWS. Consider everything that movie did so well; its innate sense of emotion and tension, its focus on humanity and character over special effects, the production’s ability to improvise out of adversity, a trio of the best damn performances of its decade, one of the most efficient and precise uses of musical score maybe ever, and most of all, how not one single second, nay, not one single frame is wasted or superfluous.

Now consider CRUEL JAWS, and how it’s the complete opposite of every single one of those categories.

How could it not bring everything full circle?

JAWS: THE REVENGE Winds Up A Noble Failure

We’ve talked a lot about sequels in this space before. We’ve also talked about the art of the remake. BUT, up to this point, we haven’t really had the opportunity to discuss the art of the “sequel remake”.

Simply put, it’s an attempt to wash away a sequel that either didn’t catch on or massively painted a once-thriving series into a corner. I’m not sure if there’s really an official name for it, but it’s a concept that feels at its core to be uniquely modern, a trend that’s come around in the past ten years or so. My go-to example for this is the TERMINATOR franchise (a set of movies that I am definitely planning on giving the full month-long tribute to one of these days). Ever since T2: JUDGMENT DAY took the world by storm in 1991, Hollywood has been desperately trying to come up with a decent follow-up that people might actually like even half as much. They initially tried with 2003’s TERMINATOR 3: RISE OF THE MACHINES and the subsequent TERMINATOR: SALVATION in 2009. These sequels got subsequently ignored in 2015 with the arrival of the sort-of-remake-with-an-awful-title TERMINATOR GENISYS. THEN, there was one last attempt to start a T2 sequel with TERMINATOR: DARK FATE, a movie less than three years old that I still had to look up on Google to get the name right (unbelievably, it looks like Linda Hamilton was available!).

A modern Hollywood mess, right? In actuality, however, this sort of franchise surgery has been happening to movies since at least the 1980’s. Take a look at the HALLOWEEN franchise sometime. The original HALLOWEEN 3 was a completely stand-alone film that HALLOWEEN 4 infamously ignored. 1998’s HALLOWEEN: H20 ignored all except the first two HALLOWEEN films. The most recent David Gordon Green films have junked all but the original. There’s now, by my count, at least four distinct timelines in the HALLOWEEN series. Spooky stuff!

It’s a move that has been made in several famous franchises. A NIGHTMARE ON ELM STREET, SUPERMAN, HIGHLANDER, THE EXORCIST….the list goes on and on. And as far as moves to make in order to keep extending a cash cow, it’s not the worst in the world! It typically (though not always) serves as a rare admission of guilt from studios, an acknowledgment that a series has gone awry. It’s okay to try to start over! Really! More movie franchises ought to think about it!

So it goes with JAWS. Because as it turns out, I wasn’t the only one who thought JAWS 3-D was the franchise demeaning itself. It turned out Universal Studios agreed, and the next sequel actively ignored everything the third movie set up (or destroyed).

Of course, if any of the above have taught us, just because directors and studios make the correct determination that a sequel was lousy, there’s no actual guarantee that the second attempt is going to be any better.

With that said, let’s break down JAWS: THE REVENGE!

JAWS: THE REVENGE

Directed by: Joseph Sargent

Starring: Lorraine Gary, Michael Caine, Lance Guest, Mario van Peebles

Written by: Michael de Guzman

Length: 90 minutes

Released: July 17, 1987

JAWS: THE REVENGE continues the story of the Brodys, this time focusing primarily on Ellen (Gary), who is recently widowed; we learn later that Martin Brody has died from a heart attack, induced from lingering stress as a result of the events of the first two JAWSes, which feels like an unsatisfying, if realistic, end to the character. Ellen is left desperate for connection from others. She still lives in Amity, nearby to her younger son, Sean (Mitchell Anderson), who now works as a police deputy. As Christmas approaches, Sean is brutally killed by a great white shark while he’s clearing out a log from an outskirt buoy (y’know, police deputy work). Ellen becomes convinced that this shark is seeking revenge. It’s an absolutely ludicrous idea that starts gaining some weight to it when she heads to the Bahamas to be with her older son, Michael, and continues to be harassed by the same great white shark.

This time around, the Brody kids are recast completely from JAWS 3-D. In fact, there doesn’t seem to be any indication of Michael’s SeaWorld past at all. This is because, as far as JAWS: THE REVENGE is concerned, JAWS 3-D never happened. JAWS: THE REVENGE, it turns out, is a direct sequel to JAWS 2. As a matter of fact, an early press release dubbed this the third installment of “the remarkable JAWS trilogy”. And, look, it’s a decent decision, considering how poorly JAWS 3-D turned out. Rather than trying to build off of poor foundation, better to just repour, you know?

Anyhow, as the movie progresses, we’re introduced to Hoagie (Caine), a small prop-plane pilot who ends up wooing Ellen and bringing her out of her grief-stricken shell. We’re also introduced to Michael’s wife Carla (Karen Young) and his little girl Thea (Judith Barsi). Together with Michael’s co-worker and close friend Jake (Mario Van Peebles), they will have to find a way to destroy the shark that has somehow figured out how to travel from the Eastern United States to the Bahamas just to kill three humans it’s never met.

JAWS: THE REVENGE was given the green light during a particularly hard financial time for Universal. CEO Sidney Sheinberg was looking for something that could make a quick profit, and decided to move ahead with another installment of JAWS (it should be mentioned that JAWS 3-D was a success at the box office). The intention was to:

1) center the movie around a human story again

2) add a mystical element to the shark

3) make it quickly

These three points essentially explain everything about what makes JAWS: THE REVENGE, um, special . To that third point, the movie was green lit in September 1986 for a July 1987 release. The principal script was written in five weeks (with no actual shooting script by the time production began). The actual shoot lasted 38 days. Any actual decision making would have to be made on the fly, with no time for analysis as to how any of this was going to work.

This time, it would be Lorraine Gary’s turn to answer the call to action and star in a JAWS sequel (which is certainly not motivated by the fact that Roy Scheider and Richard Dreyfuss refused, or by the fact that she was married to Sheinberg). After a long career in television, she made the transition to feature films. JAWS, JAWS 2, and JAWS: THE REVENGE would end up being her biggest claims to fame. In fact, JAWS: THE REVENGE represented her return to acting after having retired following her appearance in Spielberg’s WWII comedy 1941. It would be her final acting credit, as she retired for good after this. It might seem strange, but after killing a shark, what else is there to do?

I didn’t recognize him, but Michael is played this time around by Lance Guest, who most people will know as THE LAST STARFIGHTER (although some horror fans will remember him as Jimmy from HALLOWEEN II). I actually thought he was pretty good here, and does a better job at playing an adult Michael than a coked-up Dennis Quaid did in the last movie.

It’s the 1980’s, so we’re fully in the era of “Michael Caine classing up a piece of garbage” era that persists to this day. As mentioned, his character is named Hoagie, for whatever reason. It’s not a name that feels particularly British, or even Bahamian. But Caine adds gravitas to a man who really only exists as a counterpoint to Ellen, a representation of another chance at love. Whenever he’s onscreen, you’re having at least 5% more fun. He’s also the source of my favorite quote by an actor that nobody else ever seems to think is funny:

“I have never seen [JAWS 4], but by all accounts it is terrible. However, I have seen the house that it built and it is terrific.”

Mario Van Peebles was still a few years away from NEW JACK CITY, although he had been working consistently in the 80’s, both on screen and the stage. Jake is basically the “best friend” role. But, Van Peebles brings just enough to it that it never quite feels like the stock role that it is, and Mario is rocking a wild Bahamian accent the entire time, so that’s something. Plus, his presence was enough to warrant a cameo from his father, Melvin. So, that’s also something!

Finally, there’s Judith Barsi, who most people will know as the child actor who voiced Anne-Marie from ALL DOGS GO TO HEAVEN and, most famously, Ducky from THE LAND BEFORE TIME. She’s also notable for having a horrendous monster for a father who would eventually…well, you can look up the awful story yourself, because I hesitate to keep linking her short life to him too closely. I’ve never been able to square away the fact that her legacy has mostly become the awful adult she had to live with. Instead, I’d like to focus on the fact that, with those above two movies, she made such a big impression on a certain generation, essentially through voiceover, in such a short time.

Here’s the thing; I didn’t hate JAWS: THE REVENGE. It at least attempts to be a real movie. Lorraine Gary is trying her damnedest! Michael Caine, running at 15% power, puts in probably the fourth-best performance in a JAWS movie. If you squint your eyes, you can even see them try to work a “shark-as-physical-representation-of-grief” metaphor. Also, the seemingly arbitrary Christmas/New Year’s setting sort of hints at a theme of reflection and renewal. Plus, it’s cool to see a tropical-themed Christmas movie, especially when it’s a deep sequel to a franchise. Unlike JAWS 3-D, JAWS 4 is trying and for that, I’m willing to give it a couple of points.

(Also, you should know I’m a sucker for surprise Christmas movies. It’s a cheap trick that is meant to work only on fools, but it works for me almost every time. I absolutely want to be that person that suggests, “how about JAWS: THE REVENGE"??” when the holidays come around. You better pray I never end up the owner of a local movie theatre.)

The primary issue with JAWS: THE REVENGE is that there’s no real skill to anything, possibly due to the speed in which it was thrown together. For example, it never bothers to really explain how in the world the shark could follow them from Amity to the Bahamas, or even why the shark is doing anything it’s doing, outside of the titular vague “revenge”. It’s not even clear if it’s supposed to be the original shark, or maybe the shark from JAWS 2 come back to life, or just a cousin or uncle or something. Also, how would the shark know it was Martin Brody specifically that killed him? Did the original shark’s family finally swing by the Amity beach a few days after JAWS 1 in desperate search of a body or something?

For another example, towards the end of the movie, Ellen starts having memories of past movie events (Sean dying at the beginning of JAWS 4, Martin saying “smile, you son of a bitch!” at the end of JAWS), which is fine, except she wasn’t present for any of them. For all these reasons, it’s why the grief and guilt metaphor doesn’t really hold water (har har). Since she’s been offscreen for most of the serious events of the JAWS franchise, having her be traumatized by them doesn’t feel like anything. We can imagine how it might feel by putting ourselves in her shoes, but JAWS 4 is trying to put this all in the text retroactively because it was never really dramatized in the first place.

In a trashier movie, none of this would actually be a problem. It might have even added some goofy fun to a loopy film. But, once again, I’m left to wonder if this JAWS sequel would have benefited from picking a lane and hitting the gas, rather than drifting in between two tracks. Because the trash elements in JAWS: THE REVENGE are much more fun than the trash elements in JAWS 3. And the sincere “trying to make a movie” elements work better than JAWS 2. But putting them together just kind of gives you a queasy feeling. The sincerity also causes you to ask questions (like all of the questions posed above) that you wouldn’t have if the movie just went for full schlock.

Also…..the shark still looks bad! You see it kind of a lot! And it always looks bad! I’m left flabbergasted why three whole production staffs never bothered to learn the lesson Spielberg taught himself back in 1975; it takes some cleverness, but you save tons of money and make your movie twice as better if we don’t see the shitty shark! Is this just an incessant need to be “different” or not wanting to copy the original? Think of the other overqualified character actors you could have snagged for this with the money saved to give Michael Caine a lunch partner?

JAWS: THE REVENGE would wind up being the last American production of a JAWS movie. I remain amazed (and grateful) that nobody has, to date, tried to reboot the series or give it the “legacy sequel” treatment. It’s easy to envision a trailer showing another family (with one of the kids being played by one of the STRANGER THINGS cast members) moving into the old Brody house and realizing there’s….something in the water……cue slow single-note piano version of the JAWS “bum bum” theme. Thankfully, it hasn’t happened yet. YET.

However, I’m not ready to leave JAWS just yet. Next week, we arrive at the real reason I decided to do this summer series. Because, here’s the thing, I’ve never seen CRUEL JAWS and I’ve always looked for a reason to cross it off my list.

So. Next week. CRUEL JAWS!

JAWS 3-D is Sadly Two-Dimensional

“In 3-D!” is a small but provocative phrase that locks a movie into a moment in time perhaps more than any other.

3-D fads within the Hollywood marketplace appear to be on a thirty year cycle. The technology most associated with 3-D (the classic glasses with one red lens and one blue lens!) was patented in the late 19th century, and the first 3-D film screened for a general audience is considered to be the now-lost 1922 THE POWER OF LOVE. The first real 3-D movie boom ran more or less from 1952 through 1955, with a resurgence in the 80’s and yet another in the late 2000’s/early 2010’s. By that point, the red-and-blue glasses had been replaced with more sleek gear that resembled plastic sunglasses. It managed to cut the migraines in half while still making sure you looked like a complete dork. By that point, however, 3-D had cynically turned into a blatantly financial gimmick (as opposed to simply a creative one), an excuse for the movie theater to charge you an extra five bucks for the privilege of watching THOR: THE DARK WORLD in post-converted three dimensions.

Still, it’s hard to deny the allure of 3-D, even if there’s only ever been one movie that’s ever been considered to transcend it and move it into an art-form (James Cameron’s AVATAR movie/series). I really do think you have to be a kid during one of its high periods for it to really enter your heart. And, brother, did I ever grow up during one of its high periods.

It wasn’t like I saw a lot of 3-D movies as a kid (actually, outside of a couple of early IMAX things, I’m not sure I saw any). But the concept of the 3-D glasses was prevalent. For some reason, they were talked about a lot in kids’ magazines, sometimes even including them in the magazine itself in order for you to enjoy some gimmicky page. And specialty 3-D glasses are still cool now; you can find 3D glasses specially made for FREDDY’S DEAD: THE FINAL NIGHTMARE on eBay right now for about 15 dollars.

The issue with 3-D movies, of course, is that the movies themselves almost uniformly coast on the gimmick themselves and then call it a day. Another issue is that movies from the 50’s and 80’s couldn’t possibly have anticipated that these junk 3-D movies would one day be available for home 2-D viewing, completely stripping it of its one and only reason for existing in the first place. Thus, any “3-D” movie is going to be playing from behind now in 2022.

This brings us to JAWS 3-D, a movie that feels like such a far cry from the original in terms of plotting, performance and direction that it really could have been any generic shitty shark movie. Oh, and the 3-D is shockingly terrible, even when accounting for the fact I’m watching it on a two-dimensional screen. Besides that, though, it’s great!

JAWS 3-D

Directed by: Joe Alves

Starring: Dennis Quaid, Bess Armstrong, Lea Thompson, Louis Gossett Jr.

Written by: Richard Matheson, Carl Gottlieb

Released: July 2, 1983

Length: 98 minutes

JAWS 3-D is almost exclusively set at SeaWorld Orlando, which you might have noticed is a very real place that was definitely operational in 1983. As near as I can tell, this truly isn’t meant to be any other place but the canonical SeaWorld Orlando that exists in our universe, or at least an exact Jawsiverse. Characters have the logo on their shirts and everything!

This is a very curious licensing decision for SeaWorld for many reasons, the primary one being that JAWS 3-D tells the tale of a great white shark getting trapped within the bounds of the park, then being unable to leave due to a broken gate, then having its child die in the custody of SeaWorld staff after an overzealous owner moves it to an exhibit too soon. Sounds like a cool place! At least it’s not nearly as bad as what’s gone on at the real SeaWorld.

And, look, I think the movie being set at a real place adds some realism to the proceedings (at least, relative to the standards of a 3-D shark movie). I’d always prefer a movie be set at SeaWorld than some extremely fake Hollywood screenplay place like OceanTown or WaterVille or something. I’m just shocked that SeaWorld signed off on it at all. Did they, like, read the script or anything? Did they even read the title of the movie? Why in the world would you let your multi-million dollar water park be associated with a JAWS sequel?

Anyway, that’s more or less the thrust of JAWS 3-D. A shark (or two!) trapped at a SeaWorld park. If you’re expecting this to lead to anything resembling commentary, keep in mind that this was thirty years before BLACKFISH, so there aren’t really any parallels drawn between the shark and the other fish and mammals imprisoned there against their will. Also, if you’re expecting this to lead to anything resembling a movie, you may be waiting awhile.

Dennis Quaid is our main link to the original film, playing the grown-up version of Michael Brody, Sheriff Brody’s oldest son (Scheider is nowhere to be seen in this; I suspect the creative team knew better than to even ask this time around). Quaid pretty famously has noted his daily cocaine habit during the filming of this, specifically saying he was high during “every frame” of JAWS 3-D. It’s as decent an excuse as any for his weird performance here, somehow both totally bizarre and completely mailed in.

It struck me while watching this that Quaid is a guy who needed to become older before becoming interesting, or even…well, handsome. Quaid’s definitely a good looking guy now, but he looks kinda odd in this movie! There’s nothing wrong with him in JAWS 3-D, he’s just a gangly dude in his late twenties. It happens!

Bess Armstrong, who plays Dr. Kay Morgan, started her career with some Off-Off-Broadway stuff, before settling into work in mostly television movies, although she would eventually work alongside Tom Hanks in 1986’s NOTHING IN COMMON. For such a major role she has here (Kay is basically the second lead), she really made no impression on me, which represents a first for adult roles in the JAWS series.

Like most people, I knew Lea Thompson from the BACK TO THE FUTURE trilogy, although I had forgotten she was also in RED DAWN (and who could forget HOWARD THE DUCK?). She’s okay in this, although the movie isn’t ultimately really interested in her character at all, either. I even had to look up her name after the fact (Kelly Ann Bukowski, for those keeping score). It’s just a light, love interest role for Sean Brody, and it isn’t treated with any more weight than that.

I also wanted to make mention of Simon MacCorkindale, who plays the hunter Phillip FitzRoyce. This is not only because he had one of the all-time names in the acting game, but because, in the same year that JAWS 3-D was released, he appeared as the title character in all eight episodes of NBC’s MANIMAL. For those not familiar, this was a show about a man who could shape-shift into any animal, and used this power to help the police solve crimes instead of, I dunno, declaring himself the President of the United States. 1983 was a big year for MacCorkindale!

I’ve never seen AN OFFICER AND A GENTLEMAN, so I’m not familiar with Louis Gossett Jr’s biggest claim to fame. But I’ve never seen a more affable presence be in so many shitty movies that he’s completely unable to elevate on his own. Thus, just like in so many other films, Gossett is just stranded on an island here. He almost seems Photoshopped into most of his scenes. It’s rough, especially considering his character, the SeaWorld owner Calvin Bouchard, is ripe for dramatic conflict.

Foolhardy men in positions of power are great catalysts for the type of changes and catharsis that drive the best stories, whether in film or no. Remember how sobering it felt when John Hammond was forced to ruminate on how much damage had been wrought in pursuit of his JURASSIC PARK dream? Even after he had endured two hours of everyone calling him a fucking idiot, the wonder of the creatures at his park still overrode all reason, which ultimately led to chaos and destruction (and a run of increasingly bad sequels, but that’s a different article).

In a real movie, Bouchard could have been a character just like this! But JAWS 3-D is not a real movie, so instead, Bouchard is a buffoon. For one, he brings in his hunter friend, who immediately wants to kill the shark on national television for some reason. Bouchard is also the one who makes the call to move the first juvenile shark from the medical tank to the show tank, where it immediately dies. Why does he think these are good ideas? I couldn’t tell you, outside of something broad like “greed” and “foolishness”. There doesn’t seem to be any rhyme or reason to his decision-making, so there’s nothing for us to track. It’s not even clear to me why he owns the park. Is it money? Is he a fail-son of a previous successful owner? Is it because he thinks sea animals are cool? Because, as writ, it appears he’s just there to get in the way.

JAWS 3-D occasionally wades into water deeper than it’s capable of dealing with. For instance, it’s revealed during a soft, tender walk on the beach between Kay and Michael that Sean has developed a severe phobia of the water. Kay finds it odd, until Michael fills her in on the context. The phobia, naturally, has developed due to the events of the first two films (you know, two shark attacks).

And, you know what? Fair enough! That’s a really serious thing. But the movie has no intention of doing anything with this at all. You’re sort of preparing for Sean to maybe have a hero moment somewhere in the story, where he saves the day by getting in the water, overcoming his fear and his genuine, understandable trauma. But…nope! Sean’s standing in the water a few minutes later, necking with Kelly Ann. As far as I can recall, this never gets brought up again. Oh well!

But, at least the 3D looks like shit! I mean, beyond the normal goofy standard of going from 3D to 2D. Yes, you get the goofy “some action being done straight to camera for no reason” kind of shots. But it becomes crystal clear that the 3D was misconceived even in 1983.

Take the “money shot” of the shark. The whole movie, you naturally assume we’re heading towards a straight-to-camera shot of the shark done in 3D that looks like it’s coming right for us, the dear viewer! Well, not quite. What you get is the shark slowly moving towards a glass pane in 2D, then stopping (again, in 2D). Fake “glass” then shatters and the glass is in 3D. Cool! It’s such a miscalculation that you wonder why they bothered making the movie 3D at all.

Finally, the shark also looks bad. Most of the time, it seems like it can only really move along a horizontal plane, so most of the shark attacks seem like they’re being committed by a verrrrry slow moving rubber shark that has its mouth permanently open. It’s legitimately been strange to track the evolution of how these movies have answered the big question: how much of the shark do we show? The irony of it all is that the first one figured it out, albeit accidentally. It turns out the shark can’t look fake if you never see it. Furthermore, it will never look fake in your own mind’s eye. So why not roll with that, and play with new ways to imply the presence of the shark without ever seeing it, saving yourself some heartache in the process?

But no, JAWS 2 went forward with trying to make the mechanical shark work again, to slightly diminishing returns. This one just doubles down on the shark, showing it over and over again. And it looks horrible and fake! Why reinvent the wheel here, guys?

It’s especially confounding because the creative staff weren’t total outsiders to the franchise. Joe Alves was the production designer of JAWS 1 and 2 before helming the director’s chair for 3. And, believe it or not, Richard Matheson and Carl Gottlieb got the writing credits again (although this one feels written much more by committee). So this didn’t appear to be a case of know-nothings being brought in to crank out a crappy sequel. No, these were folks well-versed in what could make a JAWS movie work and, most importantly, collapse entirely.

So, what happened? Matheson has gone on record as blaming Joe Alves, saying “the man is a very skilled production designer, but as a director, no”. This feels a little unfair and a bit like Matheson passing the buck, although it’s easier to single the one director out than it is to pinpoint one specific screenwriter. You also get the sense from a review of the production history that there was never a clear vision of what exactly JAWS 3 was ever going to be. It started life as a parody film, of all things, named JAWS 3, PEOPLE 0. This eventually got shut down by Universal Studios for being beneath the franchise. The movie also almost went down an experimental route, with Murray Lerner hired as director, before he read the first draft of the script and freaked out, leaving the project soon after.

But, to me, it comes down to the 3-D gimmick. It’s weird and sad to see a JAWS movie succumb to a gimmick in the first place. After all, the first movie’s “gimmick” (rarely see the shark) was borne from production and necessity, and the film shifted its resources and time to developing its core three human characters and drawing conflict from their relationships to the shark AND to each other. Even JAWS 2 tried to wring SOMETHING out of Brody being re-traumatized by his past.

Here? No time for that. Here’s some crappy shark jaw flying at you! Anything that could have been interesting is ignored, or landed on completely by accident. The human characters are completely abandoned in the name of spectacle, of which the movie can ultimately provide none.

It makes it ironic that Universal shut down the comedy version of JAWS 3 for it not being becoming to the JAWS franchise. Because I can’t imagine a version of this movie that could tarnish the original any further.

JAWS 2 Bites It: The Trouble With Sequels

We’ve talked about it an awful lot in this space, but sequels are really hard.

It may not appear like quite such an obvious issue anymore, when movies are explicitly made with future sequels in mind (which make them doubly hilarious when they bomb fantastically and there’s no further installment, like the recent Tom Cruise MUMMY remake), but the goal of most movies truly was to tell a complete story from start to finish first, even if they would wind up getting second installments later on down the line anyway.

Which brings us to JAWS 2. I remember a time in my life when the discovery that there were several JAWS movies was legitimately mind-blowing. I’m almost certain this discovery was made by flipping through some late-90’s edition of the Leonard Maltin movie guide. “Holy shit, there are, like, three JAWS sequels!”, I undoubtedly thought to myself. Even at that early age, I never felt this strong desire to check them out. I loved the original film, and it was almost certainly one of the first Spielberg movies I ever saw, so it meant something to me. Besides, JAWS seemed to already have a definitive ending, none of the sequels were made by Spielberg and, most importantly, this was not yet the age of streaming where you could just pull just about anything on demand. Checking out JAWS 2, 3 and/or 4 required a trip to the video store or hoping it would just appear on TV one day. At nine, this felt like a massive undertaking.

So…forget it. Who needed it?

Smash cut to present day 2022, where watching inferior sequels to already-perfect things feel like sweet distraction from the existential dread I feel every day. Yay!

Luckily, JAWS 2 seems to exemplify just how difficult following up perfect movies truly is. Sure, it’s a natural instinct for studios with profitable hits on their hands to try to drill for more oil. But, as mentioned above, JAWS already told a story with a beginning, middle and end. So, the team assigned to the follow-up has a conundrum on their hands. Do you just try to do the original again, and risk it feeling stale? Do you go the complete opposite direction and risk losing the thread completely?

Well, as it turns out, there is a third option, which is to try to do it both ways. “Let’s sort of do JAWS again, but without what made it special, and we’ll add new stuff that we don’t really invest ourselves in. Let’s make some money!”

How do you think this went?

Let’s find out.

JAWS 2

Directed by: Jeannot Szwarc

Starring: Roy Scheider, Lorraine Gary, Murray Hamilton

Written by: Carl Gottlieb, Howard Sackler

Released: June 16, 1978

Length: 116 minutes

The production of JAWS 2 turned out to be just as chaotic as the production of the original, if not more so. To begin with, Steven Spielberg initially refused to return for several reasons. For one thing, he didn’t exactly have a great time shooting on the water last time. The primary reason, though, was that he felt like he had already made the definitive shark attack movie, a belief that has pretty clearly borne itself out (although we should point out that it wasn’t JAWS that had Samuel L. Jackson get munched on in the middle of a rousing speech. Alas, I digress).

However, there was a time when Spielberg did indeed almost come back to direct. By 1976, JAWS 2’s original director, John D. Hancock, had been fired after the studio decided the darker tone the movie was starting to take wasn’t exactly what they had in mind for their light action movie. At that point, Spielberg swooped back in, letting Universal know he had created a preliminary screenplay based off the contents of Quint’s famous U.S.S. Indianapolis speech from the first film. This screenplay appears to have been an offshoot of JAWS 1 screenwriter Howard Sackler’s original pitch for the sequel, a young Quint prequel.

I’m going to jump in here to say that I actually think if Universal had cut its losses and scrapped what they had and started over with Spielberg, there’s a chance JAWS 2 could have at least been interesting. At that point, you have the original movie’s director and screenwriters back with an already structured story that would just need to be fleshed out. True, you run the risk of deflating the tension with the fact that we know our main character can’t die, but that might have been a risk worth taking.

At any rate, the sticking point for Spielberg’s return was CLOSE ENCOUNTERS OF THE THIRD KIND, which he was tied up with for the next couple of years. Universal straight up didn’t want to wait that long for JAWS 2 to be released. Thus, that was the end of that, and a major missed opportunity passed itself by.

JAWS 2’s director ended up being Jeannot Szwarc, who had recently come off of making 1975’s BUG, a horror movie that incidentally wound up being William Castle’s last picture before passing away in 1977. He seemed to be a decent pick on paper, if an ultimately uninspired one. The good news is that Gottlieb and Sackler also came back to write the thing, although you can feel them trying throughout the entire runtime of JAWS 2 trying to figure out how to bring the magic back without repeating themselves.

What they ended up going with is continuing the story of Martin Brody’s tenure as sheriff of Amity Island, while also shifting some of the focus to a younger generation of possible shark entrees, hanging out and being sad, horny teenagers on the beach. A link between these two threads is provided with the return of the Brody kids, recast from the previous film; this time around, Michael Brody was played by Mark Gruner and Sean Brody was played by Marc Gilpin.

For Brody, he goes from having two other similar-but-wildly-different characters to bounce off of to essentially riding solo for most of JAWS 2. He butts heads with Mayor Vaughn when he suspects Amity is being stalked by another shark, and Ellen Brody is sort of more involved in the action this time around, but Brody feels quite a bit isolated for most of the runtime. This adds an interesting feeling to the character that increases when he’s relieved of his post about halfway through (it should be noted how good Scheider is in this). But this isolation isn’t something that the film really follows through with, at least not on purpose. There’s no real explicit catharsis attached to this by JAWS 2’s end. It feels like a happy, coincidental shade to the character,

I have to wonder if this movie would have been better served by streamlining the narrative to be solely about the Brody family, without throwing in the cadre of teenagers, all of whom we spend somehow way too much time with BUT not long enough to really feel anything for them. I had to look up most of their names on Wikipedia (and they are very 70’s teenager names; you’ve got a Marge, a Mike, a Jackie, and Eddie and a Tina) and even then, it’s a Herculean task for me to remember which one was which. It’s a big reason why large sections of this movie drags. We don’t have three tightly focused characters to draw our attention; now there’s, like, ten vague ones in the hopes that one of them hits.

There are some elements to JAWS 2 I liked. It was probably a good call to bring back Roy Scheider, even if it was practically by gunpoint; his appearance in the sequel was more or less to get out of his contract with Universal, and he made sure he was busy in 1983 when the third movie came a-callin’. Still, his presence gives the film an air of legitimacy, like it really is the Official Second JAWS Film. Same goes for Lorraine Gary, who gets “more to do” this time around, and Murray Hamilton, whose Mayor Vaughn is maybe twice as obstinate and hubristic here, which is both infuriating and sadly realistic.

To that end, JAWS 2 often confuses “frustration” for “conflict”. Naturally, when Brody starts to suspect there’s another shark in Amity, he isn’t automatically believed, which I suppose is a natural thing to suspect. But, beyond that, it really seems like everybody thinks the sheriff has gone insane? As an example, maybe the most memorable scene in the whole movie is where Brody, simmering with paranoia, finally thinks he spots a shark hovering around a packed beach, then storms over to evacuate the area with a loaded gun in his hand. As he aims at the ocean and fires away, it’s revealed it’s just a school of fish. Embarrassed and dazed, Brody looks defeated as everybody clears away from him.

It’s a great scene, one that manages to have both camp value (again, it’s Sheriff Brody running on a crowded beach with a loaded gun before proceeding to empty his entire clip into the ocean) and genuine heft. We like Brody so much that it sucks to see him at such a low point. You feel so shitty for him (again, Schieder. So good).

But, logically speaking, how did we even get to this point? Time and time again, Brody says all the evidence they have points to another great white in the area. And everybody just rolls their eyes like he’s losing it? Isn’t this the one guy in town that would know? Canonically, hasn’t it been barely three years since Alex Kintner got eaten by a shark, an event that would probably be permanently defining for a small town like this? Why not just take this shit seriously? I know the town is hosting some land developers for the weekend and don’t want any feathers ruffled, but why would risking another shark attack be the better alternative? An argument could be made that this is social commentary similar to the type JAWS 1 levied, but I’m not sure it is this time. It feels like just frustration so that the movie doesn’t stop thirty minutes in. This is fine, but it’s a far cry from the genuine conflict that drove the original JAWS.

Oh yeah, I guess this was supposed to be the section where I talked about what I liked. Um….I liked that JAWS 2 had the skeletal structure of an early slasher film, with a cadre of vaguely uninteresting teenagers and kids lined up at a remote place so that they can start getting mowed down one by one by a hard-to-view monster. Ironically, JAWS 2 predated the major slasher boom in American film by a couple of years. It beat HALLOWEEN by just four months! So there’s that.

However, I think the movie would have been best served by just picking a direction here. Either go with following the Brodys entirely, or focus on the kids. Splitting the difference just makes the movie feel like two half-stories put together. It should be noted, by the way, that the original JAWS didn’t really have a B-plot, one of the reasons why it felt so tight.

The biggest sin of JAWS 2, however, is that it’s just a slog to get through; it’s about ten minutes shorter than the original, and yet I checked the remaining runtime on several occasions, something nobody has ever done with JAWS 1. And this particular sin, unfortunately, lies at the feet of the film’s direction.

JAWS 2 has no real sense of pace or tension. There are pretty and intriguing shots (an early shot of Vaughn shot through a literal money tree is as clear an indicator of what the man is all about). But Szwarc is following up Steven Spielberg, the guy who has maybe the greatest natural understanding of a movie’s pace in the history of the medium. There’s not a lot of emotion to JAWS 2, nor any real build-up to anything. You don’t get any sense of how far into it you are, nor how much more you have left. You’re stranded at sea for most of this.

As an example of the failure to build tension, a crucial “suspenseful” sequence involves somebody frantically swimming towards the shark until GASP! the shark eats him. Whether this sequence is a literal, word-for-word interpretation of these particular pages of the script, or simply a grave blocking error, I can’t say. But it speaks to a fundamental misunderstanding of what made the original JAWS tick, or even how an average action sequence works. It isn’t scary because…well, the shark doesn’t even have to catch him. He just has to kind of wait. Just like us.

I can’t claim to be super familiar with Jeannot Szwarc’s complete filmography; the only other movie of his I’ve seen was SUPERGIRL, which I ALSO thought was a jumbled mess of ideas that was dreadfully paced, so I confess to having my doubts about him. And, look, I understand why he said “yes” to the job. After all, what if JAWS 2 was good? What if it had lived up to expectations? It’s a career-making opportunity, and one he’d be foolish to pass up.

But the flip side to that kind of gamble is that, if the movie drags at all, it’s your name on the door. And JAWS 2 fucking drags, the one thing JAWS 1 never did. It didn’t appear to affect Szwarc’s career too much. He made about a dozen films afterwards, as well as a ton of TV.

But I keep coming back to that moment when Universal could have gotten Spielberg back, and JAWS 2 was a prequel, rather than a sequel. And, look, chances are it wouldn’t have been perfect; Spielberg’s track record on sequels is a bit of a mixed bag.

However, when alternate versions of movies can only remain theoretical, it’s easy to fantasize about how much better they would be (see: Colin Trevorrow’s DUEL OF THE FATES). And fantasize I did. What else could I do? JAWS 2 presented too many opportunities for my mind to wander.

Next week: let’s try again with JAWS 3-D, shall we?

Jabbin’ About JAWS: A New Summer Series!

One of the strange, ironic anomalies about American film in the 1970’s is that, mixed in with some of the strongest and most daring independent voices Hollywood would ever produce, the decade includes the definitive starting data points of where the industry stands now, a sequel-and-IP-driven industry that has done a ton to choke out those very same independent voices.

The same decade that gave us ONE FLEW OVER THE CUCKOO’S NEST, THE FRENCH CONNECTION, TAXI DRIVER, DOG DAY AFTERNOON, AMERICAN GRAFFITI, CHINATOWN, BARRY LYNDON, A CLOCKWORK ORANGE and, oh yeah, the first two GODFATHER films also gave us THE EXORCIST, ALIEN and the very first STAR WARS. Through those kinetic crowd-pleasers, we can track the birth of the “blockbuster” all the way to today, where we are practically drowning in Marvel and Lucasfilm streaming content (to almost inarguably diminishing returns).

Of course, the first “real” blockbuster, at least the one that popularized the term for all intents and purposes is Steven Spielberg’s 1975 thriller JAWS. Based off the 1974 Peter Benchley novel, JAWS was an immediate sensation, making $472 million against a $9 million budget, made generations of people irrationally afraid of sharks (on the whole, not that interested in people!) and, most importantly, sparked a major change in movie studio priorities. Slow-burn, expensive character dramas were out. Populist popcorn flicks were in, the more special effects, the better.

This, of course, feels like the absolute wrong lesson for studios to have pulled from JAWS. This is because, nearly fifty years on, after the movie no longer has any ability to scare you, so familiar are its tropes and beats, Spielberg’s first major break still stands out due to the actual legitimate character work that it does, giving us three fully realized human beings as the stars of the film, as opposed to a shark that ominously (and accidentally) is rarely seen onscreen.

It’s a JAWS summer, y’all! Let’s dig in.

JAWS (1975)

Directed by: Steven Spielberg

Written by: Peter Benchley, Carl Gottlieb

Starring: Roy Scheider, Robert Shaw, Richard Dreyfuss, Lorraine Gary

Released: June 20, 1975

Length: 124 minutes

JAWS is a surprisingly difficult movie to talk about in 2022, if only because it feels like everything that can be said about it, has. It’s even a couple years older than the original STAR WARS, maybe the most single over-analyzed movie in the history of American film. JAWS’ troubled production history is well-documented, with its profound technical failures planting the seed for the movie’s single most important contribution to film: the ominous, minimalist score by John Williams serving as superior substitute for actually seeing the shark.

Compounding the issue, ironically, is the fact that JAWS still holds up! Oftentimes, big broad masterpieces like this speak for themselves, making it kind of difficult to break down what makes it fun without getting into the territory of the obvious (“the scene where the shark explodes was exciting!”). But I think it’s worth it to try, mainly since…well, I have to. It’d be profoundly weird to start a month-long JAWS series by skipping the one everybody has seen. But it’s also worth it to remind people that big ol’ blockbusters can still come with a considerable amount of craft behind them. JAWS also serves as a great way to advocate for arbitrary restrictions in film-making to allow for creativity to flourish.

JAWS is a movie that operates in two halves. The first half of JAWS feels like a broader character study of the psychological makeup of a small seaside town. Martin Brody (Scheider) is working his first summer as sheriff of Amity Island when he receives word that a young woman, Chrissy Watkins, has gone missing after going swimming. After her partial remains are found on the beach and a subsequent medical examination reveals injuries consistent with a shark attack, Brody finds himself in the middle of what is right and what is convenient. The beaches obviously have to be closed, but Mayor Larry Vaughn (Murray Hamilton) stands in the way of this, since the upcoming Fourth of July weekend is the biggest of the year for the town’s economy.

The arrival of young oceanographer Matt Hooper (Dreyfuss) adds to the tension, as he deflates the excitement of the recent capture and killing of a large tiger shark that seemed to put an end to the vicious threat. He asserts, judging from the bites on the bodies, that the town is being terrorized by a great white, and Amity now needs to figure out what it’s going to do. Do we keep the beaches open, or close them? How do we end our shark trouble once and for all? Local fisherman and Captain Ahab stand-in Quint (Shaw) offers his expertise and services to kill the shark….if Vaughn will put up $10,000 as a reward.

Of course, the parallels between Amity’s reaction to an unseen threat endangering the economy and “our current times” can’t be ignored. In fact, it’s already been discussed in some detail over the past couple of years. Suffice to say, however, government officials valuing the safety of the economy over its populace, the dismissal of experts as nerdy kill-joys, the belief that a natural threat can be negotiated with or is interested in working on a human timeframe….it all would be aggravatingly on-the-nose if JAWS hadn’t predated current reality by over forty-five years. So, yeah, the emotions and motivations being tracked amongst our principals in Amity 100% track.

Act I of JAWS contains most of the movie’s super-signature moments. There’s that famous dolly zoom on Brody’s face as Alex Kintner bites the dust. There’s the infamous “that’s some bad hat, Harry” line that should sound familiar to anyone who’s watched an episode of House to completion. There’s that fisherman corpse jump-scare. And the scene where Brody pours himself an entire Collins glass of red wine. And that shot of Brody reading up on sharks, where we see him flipping through the pages via the lenses of his glasses, almost as if we can see him absorbing the information into his brain in real time. And, of course, we hear the iconic John Williams bass notes right in the opening seconds. On and on and on, it goes.

Although he didn’t get a Best Director nomination, there’s little flourishes like this that made it obvious the 26 year old Spielberg was someone to keep your eye on. And the movie often looks gorgeous. But it wasn’t just Spielberg that makes this first half sing. No, an equal amount of credit goes to the script, more or less cowritten by Benchley and Carl Gottlieb. Benchley did the first three drafts before tapping out and handing the script over to other screenwriters. He ultimately provided the plot’s structure and a lot of the “mechanics” of the sailing and oceanography. Playwright Howard Sackler (who was absolutely not one of those Sacklers, I already checked) did an uncredited rewrite, who focused in on characterization, including the crucial detail of Brody being afraid of water.

In an attempt to add some levity, Spielberg asked his friend Carl Gottlieb what he would change were it up to him. Three pages of notes later, he ended up becoming the primary screenwriter the rest of the way, with much additional dialogue pulled from improvisations generated from cast and crew dinners. John Milius provided some dialogue additions, and SUGARLAND EXPRESS writers Matthew Robbins and Hal Barwood did some uncredited contributions.

But all this work, and facilitation of multiple contributors, paid off. Why the first half of JAWS works so well is because the script deals with the fallout of the shark’s destruction honestly. As just one example, both Mayor Vaughn’s early insistence on keeping the beaches open and Brody’s ultimate reluctance to stand up to him, have deadly consequences. The aforementioned death of Alex Kintner serves as the turning point for Brody (although, notably, not a turning point for Vaughn, who I am convinced eventually became the President of the United States in the JAWS-iverse). In the fallout of the tense, brutal, pulse-pounding death of Kintner, and as the subsequent capture of the wrong shark is being heavily celebrated by the town, the movie still adds a touch that most movies nowadays might have skipped altogether.

Brody is approached by Kintner’s mourning mother who has nothing but a slap to the face and admonishing words for the sheriff. He knew the waters were dangerous, and that a girl had already been killed by whatever it is out there. And he let the beaches stay open anyway. How could he?

I think this is a scene that would have been excised for being too “dark” or something if JAWS were made today. After all, it makes us directly question the integrity of our lead character, something that legitimately might be considered too complicated to get into now. Because the thing of it is….Kintner’s mom is right. She’s not just an unfair obstacle for us to get upset at. Brody fucked up. Yes, yes, there’s the reflex of saying, “it’s actually Vaughn’s fault! HE’S the one who was forcing him to keep the beaches open!” Which is true. But the buck falls on the man whose job it is to keep people safe. And Brody knows it.

That’s why the moment resonates so hard. And it’s part of what motivates him from here on out.

For all that, though, the second half is really where the movie shines, and the fact that it works so well is a testament to how JAWS bakes in its exposition and character building through action. Brody, Quint and Hooper all band together to take Quint’s boat the ORCA out to kill the great white once and for all. Simply put, there’s nothing for the movie to set up about these three once they get on the boat. We’ve learned everything we need to know while we were busy being scared in the first half. Brody is the lawman who hates the water, Hooper is a steadfast and sarcastic expert, and Quint is the eccentric wild-card.

Notably, there are a few things two of the three characters have in common; for instance, Brody and Quint are the adults on the boat, while Quint and Hooper have the maritime experience (and scars to show for it) that Brody simply lacks. Most telling of all, Brody and Hooper don’t have the personal connection to a rogue shark that Quint ultimately does. But there’s nothing to unify the trio as a team as we set sail.

The real bonding moment between the three is Quint’s famous speech detailing the real-life horrors endured by the members of the U.S.S. Indianapolis, a moment that many have identified as the true heart of JAWS. This monologue, delivered during an otherwise quiet dinner between the three below deck, sets up the true terror inherent in a shark, maybe more than any other moment, sequence or visual in the movie. For those not familiar, the U.S.S. Indianapolis was a naval ship that was returning from delivering the initial parts of the atomic bomb before getting nailed by a Japanese missile. Those who survived the initial blast, however, found themselves sitting ducks for a series of brutal shark attacks. Of a crew of about 1,000, only about 300 survived.

It’s a harrowing, fucked-up story that’s just as chilling when you remember that it’s 100% true (also, it feels notable that the script changes the date of the sinking of the Indianapolis from July 30 to June 29, the same day and date of the fictional death of Alex Kintner). Thus, the decision to anchor Quint’s character as having lived through this real-life horror show makes his quest to kill the great white all the more understandable, perhaps the ultimate example of “raising the stakes” for a character.

What punctuates Quint’s speech even further in JAWS, however, is how the scene slowly transitions back to the three of them having drunken revels, banging on the table, singing sea shanties, and forgetting about their trouble ahead. Then, BOOM! The shark has returned and is pounding on the side of the ORCA. The danger detailed in Quint’s speech starts flooding back to the characters, and us, and the cost of failure has never felt so high.

The second half is also where all those clever work-arounds to cover for the mechanical shark not working come into play. As alluded to previously, one of the biggest, most famous pains in Spielberg’s ass during the making of JAWS was the fact that, among other things, the big mechanical sharks that had been created (in place of an actual trained shark, which was the original plan, holy shit) kept getting waterlogged and short-circuiting. I’d argue that Robert Shaw getting wasted all the time was as big of an issue as the shark, but I understand that JAWS is a hard movie to film without, you know, Jaws.

Brody, Quint, and Hooper eventually realize attaching buoyant barrels to the shark is their only chance at being able to keep tabs on its location. It’s a logical decision by the characters, and you figure, for the filmmakers, it’s a hell of a lot easier to control a bunch of empty barrels than it is a giant mechanical shark. However, this decision also sets up the barrels as the real visual signifier for us in the audience. It’s always cool when a movie works it out so a normal, benign object all of a sudden becomes terrifying.

JAWS barrels towards its exciting and famous conclusion, and it struck me that the movie is so self-contained (and, like many movies that are over thirty years old, just ends once it reaches its natural stopping point! No prolonged wrap-ups of subplots, no set-ups for potential sequels…the shark dies, movie over!) that I don’t even think I realized there were sequels to JAWS until I was a teenager. And that’s the sign of a great one. You can get off here, or you can keep driving down the Highway of Diminishing Returns. It’s up to you!

So why does JAWS not receive the same kind of world-ending ire that some of its other early blockbuster contemporaries do? Well, part of it is that it hasn’t watered itself down as much over the years. Yes, up until 2002, there were just as many JAWS movies as there were STAR WARS movies, which is bizarre to think about. However, the non-serialized format of the JAWS series has left its sequels as more obscure and less popular than its original, which allows it to stand above the rest of the series. This stands opposed to STAR WARS, where at least one of its sequels is arguably more beloved than the original (that sequel being, of course, THE RISE OF SKYWALKER).

Also, for whatever reason, JAWS has never been a property that anybody has tried to reclaim as fresh IP. We had the three sequels, one unofficial international follow-up/ripoff (okay, there are actually hundreds and hundreds, but only one that anybody really cares about), and…that’s it. No Saturday morning cartoon, no legacy sequel, no limited series on Peacock (at least not yet). Hollywood has, for whatever reason, seen fit to leave JAWS be.

Finally, I think JAWS is arguably the strongest of its imitators simply because of all the work they did to focus on human characters, so that when the shark starts snacking, we’re invested. It’s not quite the same thing, but it’s the problem that a lot of the American GODZILLA movies fail to understand, and I see audience expectations shifting in kind; I hear a lot of people say, “who cares about the humans at all? It’s a movie called Godzilla!” Well, actually, the human stories are vital for us to have an entry point into the destruction, but so often, movie studios want to cynically half-ass that part. Maybe because it’s hard? Maybe because it’s easier to pour money into the CGI than the writer’s room? Regardless, it would suit most studios to go back to the basics for awhile.

It’s a shame that, in the wake of JAWS’ undeniable success, the instinct was to replicate, and expand upon, the fireworks and thrills WITHOUT including the exquisite writing that makes everybody involved feel like a recognizable human soul, which only helps to increase the stakes. After all, what good is a shark eating somebody if I don’t care about them?

Next week: Brody and Mayor Vaughn return for 1978’s JAWS 2!

FOUR WEEKS OF MAY: ISHTAR

It seems like once every decade or so, there’s a major motion picture that ends up making such questionable creative decisions, weathering such tremendous behind-the-scenes drama, and enduring so much negative press that they become “Worst Movie Ever” contenders almost immediately upon release. In the 90’s, it was probably Rob Reiner's famous debacle NORTH. In the 2000’s, you couldn’t avoid hearing a joke about Ben Affleck’s GIGLI . And I’m willing to bet most people heard about the disaster that was 2016’s SUICIDE SQUAD long before they ever got around to seeing it, if they ever did at all.

The funny thing about those once-every-ten-years catastrophes is that those Worst Movie Ever tags eventually start to feel like foregone conclusions, rather than something the movie in question truly earned, an end result of press outlets needing a final punchline to the film they had spent months trashing. That is to say, it wouldn’t be very satisfying to roast BATTLEFIELD EARTH and then have it come out and be just mediocre, would it?

Well, in the case of BATTLEFIELD EARTH and stuff like SUICIDE SQUAD, the moniker ended up being apt. But for some of these others? They’re usually not great, but calling something the “Worst Movie Ever” before it’s even released is usually writing a check the movie can’t actually cash.

We also live in an era where movies that were initially critically derided and financially ignored wind up eventually getting revisited and often championed by future cinephiles. Off the top of my head, a short list of movies I’ve seen get reclaimed over the years include SPIDER-MAN 3, JINGLE ALL THE WAY, STAR WARS: EPISODES 1-3, THE VILLAGE, POPEYE…and ISHTAR.

Ah, yes, ISHTAR, the movie that seemed to symbolize Hollywood failure more than any other when I was a kid. It felt like I heard it referenced a lot; I have a very specific memory of an Animaniacs episode set in a video store where a VHS copy of Elaine May’s final directorial effort was dropped to the floor, causing a nuclear explosion offscreen. Of course, I had never actually seen it; by the time I was old enough to have heard of it, it was almost ten years old. And the idea of watching a movie starring two men in their fifties wandering around in the desert didn’t sound that exciting to adolescent me.

But, as it happens, I have now seen ISHTAR, thanks to this self-imposed Elaine May marathon I’ve now completed. I find myself at a crossroads, trapped between two generation of cinematic evaluation. Is ISHTAR indeed an excessive unfunny attempt at comedy? Or is it in fact an under-appreciated romp?

In order to close out Elaine May Month, let’s find out!

ISHTAR

Directed by: Elaine May

Starring: Warren Beatty, Dustin Hoffman, Isabelle Adjani, Charles Grodin

Written by: Elaine May

Released: May 15, 1987

Length: 107 minutes

ISHTAR is the story of two very bad songwriters, Chuck Clarke (Hoffman) and Lyle Rogers (Beatty) that both manage to find each other and proceed to write terrible songs together in order to pursue their ambitions of becoming a famous singing duo. In an effort to scrape up work for them, their agent Marty Freed (Jack Weston) books them a gig in a Marrakesh hotel; as it happens, there’s an opening in the lineup due to recent political unrest. With nowhere else to turn, Chuck and Lyle head to Morocco.

Their flight takes them as far as neighboring Ishtar, where Chuck runs into a mysterious, desperate woman who claims her life is in danger and needs his passport. His decision to do so sets off a chain of events that takes us to the end of the film. Chuck and Lyle end up entangling themselves with the CIA, and find themselves in the middle of a complicated scheme to unseat the current Emir of Ishtar. Secret identities, double-crosses and good times with weapons ensue.

This complicated, yet simple, plot was meant to be an intentional riff by May on the old Bing Crosby-Bob Hope ROAD TO… vehicles, where the two stars usually played silver-tongued conmen who find themselves tossed around to faraway lands, and typically tended to be meta-riffs on popular genres of the time (desert adventure or jungle films, for instance). In a meeting with Beatty, May pitched her idea of doing a variant on that old series, set in the Middle East and starring Beatty.

I found Beatty’s appearance in this movie curious, since it didn’t seem like his kind of role, bordering on miscasting. It turns out that he was returning a favor to May, who had done extensive uncredited rewrites on REDS, as well as being the co-writer on the script for HEAVEN CAN WAIT. He decided to move forward with ISHTAR after he believed himself capable of providing the kind of protection May never had between her set and her studio.

Hoffman wasn’t as easily sold. As it turns out, his initial involvement was also as a result of a movie May had done uncredited rewrites on, 1982’s TOOTSIE. After eventually turning down ISHTAR, he’d go on to give May another shot, and met with her and brought along his creative consultant, playwright Murray Schisgal. They both felt that the movie shouldn’t leave the initial New York setting, believing the Morrocan stuff to overwhelm the rest of the film. Although he was hesitant, Hoffman ended up only doing the film after Beatty convinced him May would make it work.

In a fashion sadly typical of Elaine May films, the shoot quickly became chaotic. Columbia already had quick trigger fingers due to May’s reputation from MIKEY AND NICKEY for shooting much more film than is typically needed.

Many of ISHTAR’s behind the scenes issues were beyond their control. The decision was made to shoot the majority of the film in the actual Sahara Desert, and principal photography began just as Israel began bombing Palestine; the infamous murder of Leon Klinghoffer soon followed. Talk about your bad timing. There were also issues stemming from cultural differences between the American film crew and the Moroccan locals; there’s an infamous (possibly untrue?) story about one of the animal trainers dragging his feet on purchasing a blue-eyed camel, only to find out the camel was eventually eaten by its owner. Also, Morocco understandably didn’t really have the infrastructure to support a Hollywood film crew, and thus were unable to fulfill many requests and obligations.

Finally, Elaine herself seemed uncomfortable in the desert setting, and ended up fighting with people constantly. Some of her targets included: Warren Beatty, her cinematographer Vittorio Storaro, Warren Beatty, her editing crew, and Warren Beatty. Seriously, May and Beatty fucking hated each other by the end of this thing. Beatty felt like he was stuck on this shoot that was spiraling out of control because he had been doing it as a favor to a friend, yet he found himself disagreeing with May on almost everything. The budget ballooned, the release dates were delayed, and a public catastrophe was born.

As they often say, the story of what went wrong is twice as interesting as the product on-screen. The interesting and fraught friendship between Beatty and May takes this tragic arc that someone is almost definitely try to dramatize in a terrible prestige miniseries eventually. Maybe the people who brought us THE OFFER can take it on.

Well, enough about what went wrong behind the scenes. Was it all worth it? Was the initial dog-piling on this movie fair? What’s the tale of the tape?

Well, I regret to report that I didn’t like ISHTAR very much. I certainly don’t think it belongs on the Worst Movies Ever list; I’m not even sure it registers on the scale. But it is easily the least of May’s four directorial efforts and a strange misfire coming from someone who had such success at trying different genres and styles of films.

I didn’t go in wanting to hate it. I really did want to join the throngs that have sung the movie’s praises in recent years. But it turns out that I couldn’t, and it’s for one specific, overriding issue.

ISHTAR’s primary sin is that it just isn’t very funny.

There are moments here and there; I think the Paul Williams-penned songs succeed in their intentional ineptitude, and I greatly enjoyed how each Rogers and Clarke song is usually just a half-syllable off in meter, which causes it to hit the ear so badly. It’s also always welcome to give Charles Grodin a few moments to do his Grodin thing (although not nearly enough).

Finally, and crucially, I generally actually liked the characters of Rogers and Clarke. The way that they’re set up in the opening minutes (two inept songwriters who find each other almost by accident and end up losing their lives and savings as a result of their misfired ambitions), it seemed like a different movie entirely was in store. They’re broadly funny without feeling unmoored from reality. I would have been perfectly content if they had just stayed in New York and try to make it big (in this and this alone, Hoffman and I share some common ground).

Alas, we’re out of the United States by the twenty minute or so mark, and we arrive in the fictional Ishtar, on their way to Morocco to head to their first paid gig. Comedic hijinks ensue and they almost all fall flat onscreen. I can’t quite put my finger on why nothing seems to work, but work they do not.

I keep thinking about how Elaine May meant for this to be a tribute to the ROAD TO movies, a noble pursuit that somehow seems to have gotten lost somewhere down the line. I’m not the world’s foremost expert on those Hope and Crosby vehicles, but I can say that the best of the ones I’ve seen, ROAD TO MOROCCO, stood out from the others due to its actually quite catchy tunes and its wildly playful sense of humor; Hope and Crosby continuously make jokes about themselves as people, including their contract status at Paramount and their desire for Academy Awards. It’s a blatant break in character, but the actual characters don’t really matter in ROAD TO… films. Nor do the plots, as they’re usually merely flimsy excuses to get the pair into the next set-piece, usually involving Dorothy Lamour (Hope and Crosby usually comment on the thinness of the plots as well).

ISHTAR seems to have landed on the opposite philosophy, working very hard to establish Hoffman and Beatty’s characters (to some significant degree of success, as mentioned above) as well as an increasingly complicated plot. None of the trademark playfulness that one might expect from a ROAD TO riff is present here. It’s a little surprising to me that May replaced that with spectacle (that being said, Dustin Hoffman DOES fire off a rocket launcher in this, which is something), since her improvisation background would seem to be a great fit for that comedy style.

As a result, I find myself unable to reclaim ISHTAR as a slept-on classic. Instead, it’s merely a sad end to a far-too-small directorial body of work from one of the funniest people on the planet. It shouldn’t surprise anyone that Elaine May never directed anything else again. However, her legacy is definitely secure, having just this year received an honorary Oscar. She has a resume full of creative credentials longer than just about any other living person in Hollywood.

I don’t blame her for not returning to the director’s chair. Would you?

BARRY Season Three: Five Quick Thoughts on “710N”

Freeway chases, Vanessa Bayer, and a classic rug pull! Let’s talk about Barry Season Three’s “710N”.

• The Taylor Chase. No need to bury the lede here. The showcase this week is Barry evading the Taylor motocross stars, to the point that HBO uploaded a whole “making-of” clip to the episode page on HBO Max. And there will be a lot of time for other publications to break it down beat-by-beat, and explain exactly why it works so well. But for tonight, I just want to say how effectively it illustrates Bill Hader’s unique comedic sensibility (and make no mistake, the making-of clip states clearly this was all him).

  It’s not so much tense and adrenaline-fueled as it is offbeat and strange, almost like a dream (it feels a lot like last season’s “ronny/lily” fight). Even once you catch on to the conceit that each motorcyclist is going to eventually eat it in a surprising, macabre way, it takes you by surprise every single time (the Ritter household favorite? The one that mishandles the machine gun handoff, then boinks themselves off their bike by running into a car sitting in traffic). Most importantly, the goofiness provides sufficient distraction from other proceedings this week so that the ending twist takes you COMPLETELY by surprise (more on that later), in that way only BARRY can.

• Acknowledging the sign from God. There has perhaps been no more defining character moment for Fuches up to this point in the show than him being plucked from the brink of death by almost literally the hand of God, being gifted a beautiful young bride who loves him, and yet another chance at a quiet, peaceful life, then immediately throwing it all away after being reminded by a newspaper headline that he was supposed to be enacting revenge. Classic Fuches!

• Vanessa Bayer! Okay! It’s just the SNL fan in me here, but I literally gasped when Bayer first arrived as the BanShe executive that eventually pitches Sally on joining the writer’s room for THE NEW MEDUSAS. And, look, was her entire scene just an excuse to work in that very specific Bayer shtick (making sounds that encapsulate entire moods and personalities)? Yes, absolutely. Do I mind at all? You bet your ass I don’t.

• Ben, yay! Adding to the dreamlike quality of “710N” is the magical beignet man from whom every principal character gets some sort of profound life advice over the course of the episode’s thirty minutes. It’s absurd, it’s almost kind of sweet (I hope Hank takes him up on his offer to help run his franchisee plan), and funnily enough…his advice tended to be pretty apt. When he tells Barry to tread lightly as he heads to the supposed marine veteran reunion he’s heading to at Chris’ widow’s home? Shoulda listened to the beignet man, Barry.

• Ben, no! I’ll admit, I was completely fooled. The reveal of Janice Moss’ dad as a potential source of Fuches’ schemes (as well as, oh, a ten minute surreal chase scene right before) was sufficient cover for what Fuches was really up to: revealing Chris’ fate to his widow, setting up a whole other revenge scheme that puts Barry in real danger. And as she places Fuches’ Kenneth Goulet business card on the table as he eats his poison beignet, Barry begins foaming at the mouth and collapses.

  And once again, I have no idea where the show is going to go. Just the way the show likes it.

FOUR WEEKS OF MAY: MIKEY AND NICKY

My “film journey”, for lack of a less pretentious term, started relatively late in comparison to others in my circles.  In fact, I’d argue that it only really got going in earnest a couple of years ago.

Of course, I’ve been watching movies my whole life.  When I was a kid, my mom showed me the big works of Disney, Spielberg and Lucas as well as select viewings of Classic Hollywood and pre-code stuff.  My grandma opened me up to the comedic charms of the Marx Brothers, Abbott and Costello and the Three Stooges.  Between me and my collection of friends, we covered most of the major blockbusters and Oscars bait that the late 90’s and early-mid 2000’s could offer.

But I’m not sure that I really dug into movies as something serious to study until the very recent past.  True, I devoured trade magazines like Entertainment Weekly, and dutifully watched Roger Ebert and the villainous Richard Roeper every Sunday night.  But this was really more of a way to stay on top of what was coming out, and what movies seemed to be trending upwards or downwards.  It wasn’t a way to check out what had come before, or even analyze why I liked what I liked.  It was just knowledge, nothing more.

There were several reasons for this paucity of actual viewing experiences.  One of them was that watching the classics could be difficult, especially if it was a foreign film, as it often necessitated a trip to the video store and hoping for the best (Netflix’s “DVD by mail” service helped immensely in this regard).  The primary reason, however, was that I went through a prolonged “anti-pretension” phase that kicked in around mid-high school and extended itself through, I dunno, like my early thirties or something.  

It basically went like this: For the first third of my life, I hesitated to really dig into something that I knew was a passion of mine, lest I come off as a smart-ass know-it-all like the rest of the smart-ass know-it-alls I knew.  Of course, this failed to account for the fact that this kind of “fuck the elitists” posturing was itself a form of pretension, the belief that your opinions were simply better than everyone else’s (this also leads very easily into living your life as just the devil’s advocate.  People like this thing?  It must be shit.  I like something?  It must be an underrated masterpiece, even if the thing I’m talking about is Spider-Man 2).

Anyway, by the time I hit 30, it dawned on me that, as a result of this kind of time-wasting, there were a lot of classics I just hadn’t seen.  There’s still an embarrassingly long list.  Even worse, a lot of the friends I have now are very smart film buffs that I just couldn’t follow along with or add to in conversation, the result of years of burrowing into my already-established interests, rather than expanding them. 

To make matters even more devastating, I had discovered the much-beloved, now-defunct streaming app Filmstruck much too late, essentially after it had already been discontinued by Warner Media.  Here it was, a streaming site that had put selections from the Criterion Collection and Turner Classic Movies potentially at my fingertips for a couple of years and I squandered it, completely unaware it was an option until it was already gone.  It’s a terrible thing to find out about retroactively.  An easy-to-access doorway to film history and I had blown it. 

Enter The Criterion Channel.

For the unfamiliar, it’s what it sounds like: a streaming channel curated by the people behind the Criterion Collection, a pseudo-successor to Filmstruck.  At the beginning of 2019, the launch of the app was announced, and an advance mailing list was opened up to the curious.  As a lead-up to the app’s launch, a Movie of the Week program was announced.  This way, potential subscribers could enjoy a single movie on the prototype platform, typically a movie that would give one an idea of the kind of programming the Criterion Channel would eventually house.  I eagerly signed up, not wanting to miss another opportunity.  This way, at least it seemed to me, I could start my film education in earnest, one week at a time.

First movie up? MIKEY AND NICKY.

It’s fair to say, then, that this week’s movie is responsible for my curiosity being stoked, and is responsible for the last few years of articles.  Feels relevant, then, to revisit it again now for Elaine May Month.

Let’s get started.

MIKEY AND NICKY

Directed by: Elaine May

Starring: Peter Falk, John Cassavetes, Ned Beatty, Rose Arrick, Joyce van Patten

Written by: Elaine May

Released: December 21, 1976

Length: 106 minutes

MIKEY AND NICKY is a fairly simple movie, at least on its face.  John Cassavetes is Nicky, a paranoid man holed up in an apartment for reasons that are initially only alluded to, although it seems as if the recent murder of a bookie might have something to do with it.  Peter Falk is Mikey, Nicky’s lifetime friend who comes to his aid (not for the first time, it turns out) and just seems exhausted.  His relationship with Nicky seems to swing between that of an older brother and of a father.  At the beginning of the movie, he force-feeds him medicine; near the end of it, he’s fighting him in the street.  

The above premise leads us into that most satisfying of movie genres, that of the night-time odyssey through the streets of a major city, in this case, Philadelphia.  Nicky, fearing for his life, wants to constantly be on the move, while Mikey seems most concerned about keeping themselves in one place for reasons that are initially ambiguous.  All the while, they appear to be followed by a gangster, played by 70’s perennial Ned Beatty.  

MIKEY AND NICKY presents itself as a two-character play for the most part.  As they bob and weave from one place to another, we get to see a lot of conversations between our two titular characters.  As a result, we gain a ton of insight, implied or otherwise, as to the relationship between the two of them, as well as their own individual lives.

And, boy, do we have two great leads to present this tandem.

I want to first dig into Cassavetes’ work as Nicky.  John Cassavetes is known more as an influential independent director now that it’s all said and done, but his career started as an actor.  His appearance in MIKEY AND NICKY is interesting to me since the movie itself feels so influenced by Cassavetes’ directorial work; so much of it is close, intimate and honest.  

Cassavetes’ Nicky is all tics and neuroses, befitting a man who feels like every moment could be his last.  He’s obviously not taking care of himself and has a penchant for rash and impulsive actions, which is why he’s found himself in trouble in the first place.  He refuses to do anything to take care of the ulcer he’s obviously suffering from.  And most of all, he’s unspokenly suspicious of his only friend (as it turns out, rightly).  Cassavetes has a lovely, natural chemistry with Falk, no doubt the result of years of collaboration together.

Peter Falk is yet another one of those guys that I think we all know, but maybe don’t appreciate to the fullest.  I’m ashamed to say it, but I’m actually not that familiar with his most famous role, that of Columbo.  But I have become increasingly more acquainted with Cassavetes.  But, man, is there an emotion that face, that so unique face, couldn’t so subtly register and embody?  In a movie that’s all about what’s not being said (like jazz, man), Falk’s portrayal of Mikey is the audience’s emotional Cliff Notes.  You are keenly aware of his overlying (and often conflicting) feelings: guilt, exhaustion, genuine brotherly affection, anxiety….it’s all there.  I don’t know that the movie would have worked without him.

Both Falk and Cassavetes complement each other’s performances so well.  Nicky comes off as so sufficiently tiresome that Mikey’s frustration and exhaustion with a lifetime of being maybe his only friend feels justified and obvious.  His eventual betrayal also feels emotionally true, and Nicky slowly sussing out how the night is destined to end without ever truly explicitly confronting Mikey about it is ultimately where MIKEY AND NICKY derives its power.

(May I say how much I like mob movies that are almost exclusively about the lowest rungs on the org chart?  So many are about making your way to the top.  However, MIKEY AND NICKY there’s much drama to be wrung from the people that are frankly fortunate to even be at the bottom.)

The production of MIKEY AND NICKY was the one that appeared to run May away from the director’s chair for over a decade.  Filmed in 1973, the movie wouldn’t be released until 1976, so long and how tense the conflict was between her and Paramount Pictures, her old foes from A NEW LEAF.  

Again, May’s budget ballooned quickly; when the movie was being produced by Twentieth Century-Fox, the budget went from $1.6 mill to $2.2, which caused the studio to drop the film entirely, allowing Paramount to swoop in to save the day.  Paramount’s involvement came with stipulations, the most vital of which were the $1.8 million budget and the hard deadline of June 1, 1974 for the film to be completed.  Well, 6/1/74 came and went, and no completed movie was delivered, although the budget had inflated to almost $4.5 mill.  

Part of the extended production had to do with May’s decision to constantly keep the camera rolling, maybe for hours at a time if she deemed it necessary, even when Falk and Cassavetes had long since left the scene (as the famous story goes, a new camera operator got in trouble for calling “cut”; when asked why in the world the take should continue after the actors left the physical set, May replied, “because they might come back”).  As a result of this unusual decision, the film has this completely improvisational feel to it, even though it indeed was pretty much entirely scripted all the way through.

I’ve always had mixed feelings about this approach.  On the one hand, it does feel wasteful, and I can’t help but understand why Paramount was having a panic attack regarding all this.  I also don’t quite understand the point of continuing to roll the camera at the end of the scene if you’re following along with a tight script.  Except to say that, as mentioned, MIKEY AND NICKY has this sprawling feel as a result.  Even though the film is only 106 minutes, it feels, in the best way possible, like you’re with these two characters the entire twelve or so hours that the story unfolds during.  You’ve been through a marathon evening, and I don’t know if the movie would have had the same effect if a more efficient director (say, Clint Eastwood) had directed it.  We’ll never know.

Anyway, Paramount took Elaine May to court.  Having flashbacks to how everything regarding A NEW LEAF went down, May was determined to not let the same studio butcher two of her movie.  She took the extraordinary measure of essentially holding two reels of the movie hostage, storing them in a garage in Connecticut that belonged to a friend of her husband’s.  She eventually relented and allowed Paramount to create the final cut, although the experience was devastating enough that she wouldn’t return to the director’s chair for another ten years.

Maybe all of this was the sacrifice needed to make MIKEY AND NICKY what it was.  Because interestingly, although I ultimately don’t think it hangs together quite as well as THE HEARTBREAK KID, I think if I had to recommend just one Elaine May film, it would be this one.  It illustrates so well the disruptor spirit that May retains to this day.  She made a masterpiece by doing it her way, even though her way led her into a courtroom once again, and her treating a random suburban garage like it was WACO or something.

And, more importantly to me, this version of MIKEY AND NICKY ultimately led me to this moment right here, turning this space where I was awkwardly reviewing episodes of SNL or whatever to a space to talk about movies and why they work.  It was a joy to run down the streets of Philadelphia again.  Do yourself a favor and do the same sometime this week, too.

Five quick thoughts on “crazytimes**tshow”

• The function of apologies. The theme of “forgiveness has to be earned” takes on a new wrinkle as Gene finds himself on the giving end of the unhelpful retro-active apology.

  The concept of apologies has become a running thread in society lately, as celebrities and public figures find themselves increasingly in need of accounting for past misbehaviors. Apologies are often demanded, and almost always rejected on their face when they inevitably fall short. But, in a way, what good would the apology do in the first place? Even when sincerely given and believed, it doesn’t really undo the damage, especially when at the level of what Gene has done.

  Ultimately, apologies are often to alleviate the guilt of the misdoer and nothing else. BARRY, it seems, is zeroing in on this concept, an interesting one to face in a season all about forgiveness. And as he causes a former colleague to tear up at the memory of having tea thrown in his face, and another former flame to storm away from the communal table they’re sitting at, I have sincerely no clue how Gene is going to face up to his failures, especially since he doesn’t have the wherewithal to just blast his way through them like Barry. Stay tuned!

• A new villain drops. It was inevitable, but Cristobal’s wife has finally arrived. And sh'e’s kinda terrifying? And I think she’s so effective because her rage is so understandable. I especially loved the scene of her storming Hank and Cristobal’s home. With Hank trapped in the closet (I really liked how they refrained from subtitling her during this; it really elevated the threat as Hank perceives it), he is force to watch as she discovers a picture of him and Cristobal together. And she’s heartbroken. Why wouldn’t she be?

  And that’s what makes her so scary.

• Sally holds firm. I admit to thinking the moment at the end where Barry offers to gaslight Diane until her brain melts was leading to Sally’s Skyler heel turn. The idea of Barry finally revealing who he is to Sally, and having her be super into it in a moment of weakness seemed like an interesting way to resolve that dangling plot line. It really seemed like the episode was heading that direction. And then…

  The more honest thing happened instead. Sally stares at the fucking psycho sitting next to her and tells him to get the fuck out. And, look, I’ve been hard on Sally in this space, but honestly? Good for her. Barry has this wide open opportunity to mend the only real relationship he’s ever had. But he doesn’t know any other way of being “helpful” than by being a weirdo. So she kicks him out. Maybe it’s not heart-pounding TV, but it’s honest. And grounded. Unlike…

• The weird streaming stuff with JOPLIN. I understand completely the intent here. This is BARRY’s satire of the insidious Netflix-ification of popular entertainment, as major studios allow an undefined computer algorithm make creative decisions, no matter how illogical they may be. And the high of where Sally finds herself at the end of last episode and the valley she finds herself halfway through this one is such an honest portrayal of what happens after perceived creative success.

  But I think they took the satire an inch too far. The concept of JOPLIN being pulled from the site twelve hours after launch just doesn’t quite pass the smell test to me. I know I’m nitpicking, but…if anything, doesn’t Netflix push its users towards its original programming at the expense of everything else? Also, they’re swift to cancel stuff for no reason, true, but I don’t know that they pull things off their site completely, (unless it’s another studio calling in their debts, like the Marvel stuff) they usually just de-emphasize content when it’s no longer of use.

  It all felt emotionally honest, just not quite factually honest. But maybe that’s enough.

• The cost of being a n00b. I’ve always loved this running thread on BARRY of people trying to be hitmen never working out. Fuches’ new protege at the top of Season Two? Barry’s pet Chechen student last season? Both reached bad, swift ends.

  So it goes with Annabeth Gish and son. As fun as it was to see two normal people try to organize a hit, it seemed inevitable somebody not named Barry was going to get hurt. And now, her son has a hole through his gut. It’s nice to know Fuches has found all new days to ruin the lives of innocents. You haven’t lost your touch, you sly dog!!

FOUR WEEKS OF MAY: THE HEARTBREAK KID

Men are the worst.

It’s a thought as old as the earth itself, and the reality of that statement is something that society is still currently trying to grapple with in real time (and maybe not doing such a wonderful job at it).  But, look, it’s true.  Certainly everyone gets anxious and insecure at some points in their lives.  But there’s something about how specifically male insecurity and anxiety manifests itself that can be simultaneously interesting and infuriating.  It seems like female insecurities manifest in damage done insularly, the type done to the self.  Male insecurity tends to lead to outward damage, the type that’s done to other people.

Hilarious, right?  We all laughing yet?  

I say all this because, on rare occasion, you happen to run into a film from fifty years ago that shines a light on this concept of male insecurity so succinctly and precisely WHILE somehow managing to stay sharply, acidly funny and oddly poignant throughout its 106 minute runtime.  

Naturally, it was directed by a woman.

Let’s dive into THE HEARTBREAK KID.

THE HEARTBREAK KID (1972)

Directed by: Elaine May

Written by: Neil Simon

Starring: Charles Grodin, Cybil Shepard, Jeannie Berlin, Eddie Albert

Released: December 17, 1972

Length: 106 mins

Lenny Cantrow (Grodin) and Lila Kolodny (Berlin) are a pair of newlyweds a few days into their cross-country honeymoon.  Lenny isn’t feeling so great about it, now that the luster and shine of the wedding is starting to fade.  He’s noticing things about Lila he didn’t before.  Her sloppy way of eating egg salad, for instance.  Or the way her skin easily burns in the sun.  The reality of “til death do us part” is starting to hit him in his soul, and it’s starting to eat at him immensely not even a week in.

Once he runs into Kelly Corcoran (Shepard), a beautiful, young, leggy blonde, on a Florida beach, Lenny becomes bound and determined to woo her, in defiance of all logic or respect to his new bride.  Kelly seems to be into him, but her father (Albert) remains completely unimpressed.  THE HEARTBREAK KID becomes a long race to the altar as Lenny has to maintain his pursuit of Kelly while still keeping his honeymoon going smoothly.  The script, a Neil Simon adaptation of a Bruce Jay Friedman short story, firmly establishes its main character as an unabashed skunk, a man who only decides to talk to his wife about ending things once he has no further choice, a man who weaves lies that barely make any sense and only skate by because his bride idealizes the idea of being married to him beyond all reason (in the way only the young can).

There’s no real getting around it: Lenny is a goddamn monster who’s reckless with the heart of a woman whose only definable crime is being normal.  However, he’s nevertheless presented with honesty and wit.  Thus, you as the audience are faced with the sudden reality of, if not actively rooting for Lenny, at least sort of hoping he gets egged on so you can watch him dig himself deeper and deeper into his scheme.

This kind of duality (serious scenes presented as comedy)  is sort of typical of Neil Simon material.  Take something like BAREFOOT IN THE PARK, a play about a pair of newlyweds who are essentially fighting the entire time.  The thing about stuff like this is that the only way for it to work is for everybody involved in the production (actors, producers, the director, costume department, everybody) to be on the precise wavelength that the script demands AND have the ability to execute on it.  In the example of BAREFOOT, if the fights are played too realistically, this comedy all of a sudden becomes an unpleasant, uncomfortable drama.  Play it too over-the-top “funny”, however, and the play collapses entirely, the characters nothing more than broad and un-relatable caricatures.

So it goes with THE HEARTBREAK KID, which is threading such a small and tight needle.  The entire movie hinges on Lenny being driven almost entirely by id and the need for sexual conquest and validation WHILE still staying likable to your audience (I wouldn’t be surprised if some people feel the movie doesn’t actually thread it successfully).  His complete and total terror at staring down the barrel of forty or fifty years with his new bride and his weaving of his increasingly outrageous lies to her in order to keep spending time with Kelly should be funny, rather than reprehensible (which, of course, it is). 

This requires absolutely nailing your choice of leading man.  If he plays the nastiness too realistically, the movie becomes unwatchable.  However, if the comedy is approached as too broad, the movie flatlines.  Although we laugh at him, we ultimately have to believe and feel Lenny’s internal tension, or else there’s no reason for him to be doing what he’s doing.  It’s a pivotal casting decision.

Enter Charles Grodin.

We’ve talked about Grodin in this space a little bit before.  Specifically, I’ve previously talked about him hosting the 1978 Halloween episode of Saturday Night Live, maybe one of the greatest nights of the show ever (the whole breakdown is here, but the TL;DR version is that the whole episode hinges on a meta bit that Grodin missed dress rehearsal and now has to fumble his way through all of the night’s sketches).  He also appeared in movies that have either become cult favorites (CLIFFORD) or childhood staples (BEETHOVEN).  However, I’d argue he made the bulk of his career off of perfecting a “prickly asshole” persona on late night shows, sparring with Letterman and Conan for years.

Well, you could consider THE HEARTBREAK KID the starting point of that acidic persona.  I legitimately don’t know who else could have done this role, either now or in 1972 (I know there’s a 2007 Farrelly Brothers remake starring Ben Stiller.  I haven’t seen it; it’s possible it’s good, though I have my doubts.  But I don’t think that Stiller is quite right, as funny as he often can be).  Grodin just presented himself as so unassuming and normal, at least in relation to other movie stars at the time.  But he also knew how to express every thought and gear turn inside his head without doing much with his face at all.  This kind of thing allows him to practically get away with murder, comedically speaking.  He makes breaking a woman’s heart and bringing her to tears seem like the funniest shit you’ve ever seen.  That’s comedy magic, baby. 

Grodin as Lenny is funny in the way that Jason Alexander was funny as George Constanza.  You both simultaneously hate his guts AND eagerly await him continuing to spin plates in anticipation of everything collapsing.  Actually, I thought about George and Seinfeld a lot while watching THE HEARTBREAK KID.  Doesn’t the whole “I got into an accident last night” set of lies feel like a George bit?  Doesn’t explaining his beach tan away by explaining he had to sit on the steps of the courthouse for hours feel like something only a Constanza could have come up with?

The supporting players are also perfectly cast. Cybill Shepard I’ve long been familiar with, and she’s someone I honestly hadn’t thought much of. But she makes for a good straight woman against Grodin’s schemer. Kelly’s role is essentially to be this perfect girl for Lenny to lust after, but I think it’s crucial that the movie presents her as a real person. She goes to a good school, she’s obviously intelligent, and her sexuality is implied rather than displayed, which prevents her from just being a sex object. This is where I think May’s touch and eye becomes so crucial; the scene where Lenny and Kelly play the “no touching” game could have easily been presented as salacious and leering in a time when mainstream movies were starting to push and experiment with how sex would be displayed on camera (same year as LAST TANGO IN PARIS!). Instead, everything is cut just so that you remember more happening than there really is.

I wasn’t familiar with Jeannie Berlin at all, to the point that I didn’t know until sitting down to write this that she is in fact Elaine May’s daughter, which clarified a lot for me.  In fact, this is the only major work I’ve seen her in.  She’s great!  Again, Lila’s only real sin in Lenny’s eyes is just not being an unattainable supermodel.  She gets bad sunburns!  She’s a little messy!  (One might argue that Lenny considers her too Jewish, but I am not nearly adept enough at untangling the film’s Jewish/WASP politics; the good news is that there are plenty out there who are, and you should definitely give them a read.)

Like many in this film, the role of Lila is precise and deceptively difficult.  “Be normal” might be the single most difficult assignment a performer can get.  You’re basically telling an actor not to act.  Yes, it’s funny to see her miss a spot when she’s wiping her mouth, but the only way it remains so is if she’s nonchalant about it.  Berlin understands that so well, and plays the reality of everything so honestly that it makes Grodin’s frustration during that famous dinner scene so much funnier.  It’s no surprise she earned a Best Supporting nomination at that year’s Academy Awards.

Eddie Albert also snagged a Best Supporting nomination, eventually losing out to Joel Gray for CABARET (I mean, what are you gonna do?).  Albert’s role is equally as non-flashy as Berlin’s, and I have to imagine the Oscar nom was built off the back of the scene at the end where Mr. Corcoran tries to buy Lenny out and make him go away (“I’m a brick wall!”).  It’s a great scene, Lenny’s “final boss” of sorts, as the one guy he can’t bullshit.  Albert, of course, is probably best known from GREEN ACRES and movie work like (oh hey!) ROMAN HOLIDAY.  His veteran presence is wonderful here, too, as you keep waiting for him to take a swing at Grodin.

The thing about this movie, which is sort of a hard thing to admit, is that May and Simon’s analysis of the fragility of the male ego is so on point.  I’d venture to guess there’s a variant out there in the multiverse of every man on the planet that approaches life the exact same way that Lenny does here.  Sometimes the immediate next step of committing to a goal is dealing with the regret of having committed to it.  The only real way for men to win at life is to make sure that version of him remains in the multiverse.  Lenny makes it his prime timeline.

To that end, the movie surprises by not necessarily ending in a total collapse for Lenny (perhaps that’s the biggest difference between him and the George Constanza character).  Actually, he more or less accomplishes his goal of winning Kelly’s hand in marriage, even resisting her father’s bribery offer.  Even the presumed punchline of Lenny immediately having a panic attack about spending his life with Kelly, the allure of a lusty romance forever punctured, doesn’t quite materialize.

Instead, the dark joke of THE HEARTBREAK KID ends up being that Lenny’s success is pyhrric.  Yes, he’s secured his beautiful 22-year old bride, and he’s now a part of an elevated society that would previously have been unavailable to him.  But…now what?  He can’t exactly BS his way through the Corcoran circle of family and friends like he could with Lila and her family.  He’s not impressive in any way.  Nobody except maybe Kelly really likes him.

By the end of the movie, he’s functionally completely alone, without another card to play or bullet to fire.

As far as the “Elaine” of it all, it seems by all accounts that the production of THE HEARTBREAK KID was relatively smooth sailing, at least as compared to the trouble she had with A NEW LEAF, and the all-out chaos that would ensue with MIKEY AND NICKY and ISHTAR.  Maybe that’s why it feels so tight and efficient in comparison to her first film (which really only starts showing signs of meddling towards the very end anyway).  There’s a clarity of thought that the movie is able to see through from start to finish.  I have to wonder if this movie would have worked at all without her comedic sense at play here.  

As it stands, I loved it, and it might be a new entry in my “Favorite Movies” category.  For a couple of bucks on Youtube (or for free; there are a couple of champs who have uploaded it in full on that site), you can enjoy it as well.

Five quick thoughts on “all the sauces”: BARRY Season Three

Things are heating up this week. Literally! Because a house exploded! Here are five quick thoughts on “all the sauces”.

• Using comedy to enhance tension. Easily the star sequence of this week’s episode is Barry on the phone with the Detonate App tech desk. It stood out for a few reasons, the top one primarily being that the idea of an app almost certainly only used by criminals and terrorists would have a customer service desk (the tech hearing the explosion in the background and going, “oh good, it sounds like we fixed the issue” is top-tier shit).

  But! Consider the misdirect this sequence pulled off. It was expressly stated at the top of the episode that the bomb has to go off in the afternoon, during a midday meeting, since Cristobal is off doing pilates. My immediate thought at that point was, “oh, there’s going to be a complication and Cristobal’s going to be in the house when it’s detonation time.” And it turns out there was! But because the shit with the help desk was so unexpected and so funny, I completely forgot that it’s all of a sudden night-time. And when Cristobal comes home….well, my heart sunk.

• The Natalie disrespect continues. I’m glad Sally had a good night at her show premiere and, frankly, I’m happy she dumped Barry, since it shows she might indeed be growing as a human. But, fuck man, you can’t get your friend a seat in the limo?

• Annabeth Gish! For whatever reason, I was really happy to see her pop up in this episode. I’m not exactly a fan or anything, but after having to suffer through the final two seasons of The X-Files (plus a couple episodes of the revival seasons, I think? Those all feel really blurry to me for the most part) and costarring alongside Shaq in STEEL, I was happy to see her get a potentially meaty part on a great show. Especially since she’s part of Fuches’ insane revenge plan. Speaking of…

• “What are we, some kind of Suicide Squad?” Leave it to Fuches to come up with the most batshit idea ever, that of taking back on his secret identity of Kenneth Goulet, Private Detective and recruiting family members of Barry’s past victims to take arms against him. I have no idea how it’s really going to play out, but I’m imagining this Suicide Squad of hitmen so amateur they have nervous breakdowns about the path they’re taking in front of nonplussed gun store owners, and I get really excited. Considering these are characters that have nothing to lose (Gish’s son gave up on his entire career path as a result of Barry’s actions, as evidenced by the logo on his work shirt), anything could happen next.

  And that’s where BARRY does its best work.

  (Also, my wife thinks the murder of Gish’s husband is a reference to the first hit we see in the pilot. Did anyone else think the same?)

• “fuck fuck” Fred Melamed, everybody.

FOUR WEEKS OF MAY: A NEW LEAF

Welcome to Elaine May Month!  

And not a moment too soon.  I’ve been sitting on this pun of a title for two years now.  It feels good.

Elaine May is a fascinating individual (who, as of this writing, is thankfully still with us at the age of 90).  She’s probably ultimately most well known as a member of a two-person comedy team she formed with Mike Nichols in the 1960’s, an improvisational success that inspired future comedians like Steve Martin and Woody Allen.  However, once the two went their separate ways, May became somewhat of a creative raconteur from there.  A whole other series could be done about her screenwriting career that, among other things, earned her an Oscar nomination for 1978’s HEAVEN CAN WAIT.  Most notably (for our purposes, anyway), she had a brief, but nevertheless consequential, Hollywood directing career.

She’s done it all, dammit, is what I’m saying.  And even with only four movies to her directorial name, she kept reaching for new challenges.  Within those four films alone, we have two dark comedies, a small gangster character piece, and a broad tribute to the Crosby-Hope ROAD TO… movies (that would unfortunately become a requisite punchline for decades).  That’s quite the range for a filmography that isn’t even a half dozen movies long.

Anybody else excited yet?

One quick caveat: technically, I’ve seen one of her movies already, which means I’m going against one of my self-imposed rules this year.  Again.  But, it’s a movie that’s kind of special to me, one that I could argue got me curious about the world of film again, leading us all to this moment right here.  So, give me this one, yeah?

But, that won’t be for another couple of weeks. We start, as always, at the beginning.  Let’s take a look at A NEW LEAF.

A NEW LEAF (1971)

Starring: Walter Matthau, Elaine May, Jack Weston

Directed by: Elaine May

Written by: Elaine May

Released: March 11, 1971

Length: 102 minutes

Based off of the Jack Ritchie short story “The Green Heart”, A NEW LEAF tells the story of Henry Graham (Matthau), a rich layabout who suddenly finds himself completely broke after spending his way through an entire inheritance.  Nobody in his family, least of all his uncle Harry, is willing to float him any longer, and Henry decides the only recourse is to kill himself.  That’s when he gets the idea from his valet to instead secure a loan from Harry with the stipulation that he will get married within six weeks (with the consequence of forfeiting his remaining property if he fails).

This proves more difficult than Henry intended, as his standards are both simple yet nearly insurmountable: his potential bride needs to be beautiful, rich, no family, and agreeable to being married quickly.  For awhile, it’s looking grim. Then, with a week to go, he runs into Henrietta (May), a clumsy botanist who nevertheless checks all the boxes.  They are quickly married that weekend.

From there, it’s a race to secure the bag and sever ties.  Can Henry kill his new bride without her lawyer (who winds up working with Harry against Henry) and waiting staff catching him in the act?

It’s a simple test that I’m about to lay out for A NEW LEAF, but it should be noted from the jump that I frequently laughed out loud while watching it by myself, something that almost never happens with me (watching things alone frees you from the burden of a movie having to be good, lest a partner’s time be wasted, but man, it can cause certain types of movies to kind of fall flat, no?).  May’s ability to wring laughs in a variety of ways is so impressive.  There’s dramatic irony, there are rug-pulls (I mean, just the opening joke of Henry’s ill loved one that he’s concerned about turning out to a sports car…masterful), there are pratfalls.  May has so many comedic colors in her palette, and you rarely see them used so casually as here.

Part of the comedy comes from Matthau, who is playing a little bit against type, at least against the image we typically have of him in our head.  We know him primarily as the drunken slob in movies such as THE BAD NEWS BEARS or THE ODD COUPLE, or perhaps as just a grumpy old man in movies such as, um, GRUMPY OLD MEN.  He’s also certainly played noble and beleaguered in stuff like A FACE IN THE CROWD.  But here, he’s playing posh and upper-crust (a sample line: “Madam, I have seen many examples of perversion in my time, but your erotic obsession with your carpet is probably the most grotesque and certainly the most boring I have ever encountered”).  It’s like he’s an Oscar Wilde character or something.  It’s such an interesting and counter-intuitive turn for him.

We talked a little bit when we took a look at SABRINA about how Humphrey Bogart is probably simultaneously the most famous leading actor in Hollywood history AND somehow underrated. Well, it kind of feels like Walter Matthau is sort of in that category as well. Okay, he’s obviously nowhere near the level of fame and ubiquity that Bogart enjoyed, but we all came across Matthau as a kid in one of the aforementioned roles. But I don’t know how many people have enjoyed him in this. He’s great in A NEW LEAF!

Let’s move from Henry to Henrietta, played by this film’s director.  This wasn’t the original plan, as May originally wanted somebody who would disappear completely, believing (correctly) this was Henry’s story; the studio’s original suggestion of Carol Channing wasn’t going to work.  Paramount also weren’t going to let her pick a replacement, but offered her the same money to play Henrietta herself.  And thus, May’s contentious relationship with studios began in earnest.

Although May can’t help but shine, making her maybe technically a poor fit for the role relative to the stated goal, she does help take the edge off of what could be an impossibly black comedy.  Her Henrietta is a klutz, and she makes the most out of the simple act of holding a cup of tea, but she’s also earnest and genuinely interested in life.  Her role as a botanist doesn’t just provide the movie with its punny title; it’s also the impetus for the movie’s turn to the sincere in its closing moments, as she discovers a new breed of plant over the course of the film’s runtime.

(Also, I should point out that May took the botany aspects of A NEW LEAF seriously, consulting with Dr. Dominick Basile, who was a professor of botany at Columbia, writing scientifically accurate lines of dialogue into the movie and providing accurate equipment for the scenes in Henrietta’s office.  Not being a botanist or really anything resembling any type of scientist, I don’t know that it made a difference to me one way or another, but her attention to detail was impressive to me nonetheless).

Perhaps the most telling aspect of A NEW LEAF is the behind-the-scenes chaos surrounding it which, as mentioned above, would become a recurring theme in Elaine May’s directorial career.  The movie as it currently exists (and likely will always exist) is not technically Elaine May’s vision of the film.  Instead, it’s more of a producer’s cut.  Whole subplots were excised completely by the studios after the fact, including Henry successfully murdering two members of Henrietta’s inner circle.  Even in 1971, it appears that studios weren’t quite ready for their wacky protagonists to be able to be cold-blooded killers.

In the studio’s defense, May went way over budget on A NEW LEAF, going from a $1.8 million budget to $4 million by production’s end.  She went almost a month and a half over schedule, and editing took nearly a year, at which point producer Robert Evans snatched the film from her, going against her “final edit” contract situation.  She subsequently sued Paramount to remove her name from the film to no avail.  Whether this budget inflation and slow editing process was due to inexperience or (more likely to me) May’s quest for perfectionism, I can’t say with the information available to me.  But it is always unfortunate to know that an artist’s true vision on something they created is non-existent.  

Although it’s never been confirmed how long May’s cut was, the rumor is almost three hours.  The final film is right at 102 minutes, so clearly a lot was left on the table here.  It’s very possible this shorter version is the superior one (three hours is long for a comedy), but again, it’s a shame that we’ll never know.

I will say that, for a movie that may be missing up to 75 minutes of content, you don’t really feel much of this studio meddling for most of A NEW LEAF’s run.  The only real evidence of something going down is that it feels like it ends right when the story is about to jump up into another gear.  The surprisingly sweet ending seems to betray the much darker undercurrent the entire movie seems to have, especially when you consider that the final setpiece involves Henry attempting to drown Henrietta on a boat trip on the lake.  It’s not so much that the ending doesn’t work, per se, it’s just that it felt like there were steps missing to get us there.

A thought crossed my mind several times while watching this.

You know what movie A NEW LEAF reminded me of, to the point that I think the two would make for an interesting double feature?

BARRY LYNDON.

I mean, think about it.  Isn’t Henry Graham’s arc over the course of A NEW LEAF sort of the inverse version of Barry Lyndon’s?  Both appear to be guided along by forces beyond their control (beyond Henry’s desire to live comfortably although, Barry also wouldn’t say no to).  The key difference is that Barry seems to keep finding further fortune and success, while Henry’s journey is a continuous struggle against further misfortune.  Barry seems to keep falling upward; even as he becomes a bigger and bigger asshole, fate intervenes to save his skin.  Henry, on the other hand, keeps running into roadblocks keeping him from his selfish goals.  Both movies also give us protagonists played by very of-their-time male actors speaking essentially in prose as they wander against opulent settings they find themselves on the outside of.  

I don’t think there’s any real connection, mind you; A NEW LEAF couldn’t possibly be a riff on BARRY LYNDON since it, you know, came our four years earlier, and BARRY LYNDON is very much a singular auteur-driven take on very specific source material.  But I’d like to think May and Kubrick might have found the same things funny; the absurdity of life and the chaotic randomness that dictates our circumstances at any given time. 

So, even though A NEW LEAF ultimately feels a tad uneven, the comedic voice, the eye for shot composition, the knack for casting, all of it is on display here already.

As is the knack for finding herself on the bad side of a major film studio.

Next week: THE HEARTBREAK KID

BARRY Season Three: Five Quick Thoughts on “ben mendolsohn”

Episode Three of the third season of BARRY turned out to be more of a table-setting episode, which I think sometimes gets interpreted as boring, which the show couldn’t be even if tried. What we have here with “ben mendolsohn” is all the various conflicts between our different sets of characters being clarified and heightened. So the whole episode feels like a teakettle heating up without the catharsis of a whistle. But we have five whole episodes for that.

For now, let’s focus on a couple of things that stood out tonight:

• Stuck in the middle. So, I just figured out where I know Katie from. I’m sure everyone’s already ahead of me on this, but I’m slow, so I only tonight figured out that she is of course played by Elsie Fisher from EIGHTH GRADE. Anyway, Katie is finding herself in the midst of a plot line that I think is really timely, and an honest extension of what Barry and Sally’s relationship really is.

  Because Katie is shaken by Barry freaking out on Sally in her office, and it is proving to alter forever her introduction to the world of show business. She refuses a ride to the premiere from Sally and gets reprimanded by Natalie as a result, She opens up to Natalie about what happened, and is astonished when Natalie tries to rationalize, explaining he was just having a bad day, etc.

  And when she has to lie about how great their relationship is on the press junket? Its’ heartbreaking. And maybe a little on the nose. But honest in its portrayal in how we cover others’ bad behavior in order to not create a bigger tempest.

  I’m often intrigued by smaller characters who have to deal directly with the damage being done by the bigger characters around them (Sally Draper is, no lie, one of my favorite characters on MAD MEN). Needless to say, I’m all in how where Katie goes from here,

• The GOAT. For as contemptible as Fuches has bad all series long, there’s some part of me that kind of wishes he could just leave well enough alone and retire on that Chechen goat farm with his new girlfriend, who seems to like him beyond all reason. Alas, revenge is a powerful currency in the BARRYverse, and the fact that Barry claims to have reconciled with Gene cuts him to his core. Jealousy has never sat well with Fuches, and he’s now in danger of his soul being condemned to the bottom of a raging sea.

  Speaking of Barry and Gene….

• Pushed to the brink. I said out loud more than once tonight to my wife, “somebody is going to bitch-slap Barry if he’s not careful.” He is trying so hard to be chill and let bygones be bygones that, for the first time in the show’s history, he’s actually pissing me off. I actually gasped when he implied that both he and Gene had made mistakes. So when Gene does indeed punch him in the face on set in the middle of their scene (ironically, a scene between a broken widower and the pharmaceutical rep trying to make amends for jacking up the price of his wife’s medicine), screaming at Barry to leave he and his family alone? I totally get it.

• The price is that his “second chance” at a career, already on shaky ground, appears to be totally blown. Although I will point out, characters have gotten bookings and careers on this show before by completely improvising or doing the opposite of what they were supposed to do. So, who knows? Maybe Gene’s career is just starting.

• “ben mendolsohn” The title of this episode intrigued me for weeks. What? Why such a specific reference? Did they book Ben as himself for a movie or TV show one of the characters would be on? Would the beloved Australian actor be getting involved in the loopy world of Barry Berkman?

  It turned out to be what I can only assume is a troll job, a complete red herring. “Ben Mendolsohn” ends up being Sally’s weak answer to an unexpected nonsense question on her press junket for JOPLIN; “who do you think should play the next Spider-Man?” That’s it. Nothing more than a reference to how overwhelming and absurd junkets really are (Katie’s answer of “Harry Styles” makes a little more sense, but only just a little). I can’t tell if BARRY is up its own butt a little with their episode titles this season, or if Ale Berg and Bill Hader are just honestly and truly enjoying the ride with their esoteric connections to the episode in question. But I respect it either way.

  And honestly? I’d watch a Ben Mendolsohn Spider-Man movie. Why not?

• Another great D’Arcy Carden night. Natalie lightly blowing on Sally’s armpits was inspired. Brava.