Only Two Things In The World

Gator McKluskey has just learned that his brother was killed by the crooked sheriff over in Bogan County. Sure, Gator is doing time in an Arkansas prison for moonshine but so what—he overpowers a guard and to the thumping power of that Charles Bernstein track Quentin Tarantino used in both KILL BILL VOL. 1 and INGLOURIOUS BASTERDS makes his way for the fence. Gator doesn’t make it out of there, of course, but soon enough he’s made a deal with the Feds that sets him loose, ready for revenge as he sets off in the car they’ve given him. As we hold on the star in a big, shining close-up as he clearly revels in being behind the wheel once again, Gator takes off his jacket and tie, beginning to relax. He smiles as the car radio plays, guns the engine and just for the hell of it, leads some cops on a chase. Shortly after that, he stops off in the local town to chat with some cute girls who are excited to see him. As Gator acts all charming and everything the dialogue fades low and the music comes up because what’s being said isn’t important—we just know that Burt Reynolds as Gator McKluskey is definitely the man and from here on we’re going to be with him every step of the way. Since Tarantino has used music from it in two of his films now (a little more the second time around) it’s no surprise that Joseph Sargent’s 1973 action movie WHITE LIGHTNING was one of the films programmed in his March Madness festival at the New Beverly Cinema. The other movie on this bill was the Jeff Bridges-starrer THE LAST AMERICAN HERO, making for a fun night with lots of car chases, lots of moonshine and lots of Ned Beatty who appears in both films (beautiful print on the second film as well, my first ever viewing of that one). Tarantino wasn’t there to introduce the pairing the night I went—when he does show up he likes to keep things on the down low, not announcing it beforehand—but getting to see something like WHITE LIGHTNING on the big screen was more than enough.


As I was saying about the plot, when Gator McKluskey (Burt Reynolds, clean shaven), breezily doing time for moonshine, doesn’t make it over that fence searching for revenge (“No sheriff is gonna kill any brother of mine.”) he makes a deal to go undercover for the feds to expose corrupt Bogan County Sheriff J.C. Conners (Ned Beatty) and reveal the names of others who are trafficking in moonshine over in that county as well. He soon teams up with contact man Dude Watson (Matt Clark) as well as trusted Roy Boone (Bo Hopkins) but even as Gator starts to get friendly with Roy’s girl Lou (Jennifer Billingsley) he begins to feel conflicted over what he’s supposed to be doing about the people he meets as he makes his deliveries. Meanwhile, the sheriff is on to Gator and he’s determined to keep things in his town the way they are any way he can.


With literally dozens of film & TV credits to his name, director Joseph Sargent made WHITE LIGHTNING the year before he helmed the classic THE TAKING OF PELHAM ONE TWO THREE, a movie that depicts its New York City with a similar kind of vividness that the south of WHITE LIGHTNING, filmed entirely on location on Arkansas, is portrayed. While there isn’t any direct line to draw between the two films as I was watching it this time it occurred to me how the extremely vivid sense of place that connects both films makes them stand out in their own way, adding to the enormous rewatchability each film has maybe more than anything else. I’ve seen PELHAM countless times through the years and its very New Yorkness is something I connect with instantly down to my bones every single time. Now, the most time I’ve ever spent in the South has been when passing through so for me watching WHITE LIGHTNING is practically like watching a foreign film in comparison. While I can’t speak to the degree of authenticity to the world it presents, one where the lead character offhandedly comments “Lee’s a lot better than Grant” at one point, what is portrayed feels so vivid, so accurate that I wonder if I’d grown up there instead I may have become as addicted to it as I’ve always been to that movie set in a New York subway. There’s a lived in quality to every single scene in WHITE LIGHTNING, written by William W. Norton, that feels organic to where the story is set in a way that you don’t often get from movies that have far greater ambitions than this one ever does. Even some of the specific locations are at times striking, like the house with a porch that overlooks a cemetery and the action scenes consistently make interesting use out of wherever the cars are speeding through. It’s this feeling that makes the movie and the actors fit into this place in a way that seems so natural that I can believe that these guys were really out going around delivering moonshine while the crew set up for the next scene. I suppose WHITE LIGHTNING is an action movie and some of the car chases are pretty great but what I took from it more was the vibe of just these characters in scenes together, sweating as much as they do—there’s a lot of sweat in this movie, a LOT of sweat, all the more noticeable on the big screen. The plot never quite kicks into gear as much as it seems it will at first, with no one showing up to remind Gator if his mission or anything like that and any conflict the character seems to be going through about informing on the people he’s getting to know seems to be only brushed on, forgotten about if you go for popcorn refills. The plot turn of what Gator does after briefly meeting somebody who once knew his dad is so tossed off it could be easily missed. Just the casual nature of the moment where Reynolds plays the scene with this bit player sticks with me more than what he decides to do afterward and ultimately it’s things like that in addition to the car chases which stay with me most of all when I think about the movie.


Like I said, I have no particular first-hand affinity for the south but this sort of honest depiction, even if it is just for a popcorn movie, feels totally missing from movies today. Everyone in the film, even the bad guys, is totally and believably human (no lame good ol’ boy stereotypes here), sometimes making asides about offscreen events that aren’t completely explained and have nothing to do with the plot but it makes everything seem that much richer. It’s an earnest depiction of these people and the place, with odd touches like those students in the cafe who seem slightly confused by Gator’s momentary interest in them as well as the unexpected innocence shown by the interest in Gator from those girls at that home for unwed mothers where he’s brought to recover and in never seems smarmy in the slightest. It’s not a case of presenting this Arkansas as a better way of life in a glory-of-the-south kind of way especially with this Sheriff who is worried about integration and the hippies coming to teach in the schools, it just feels casual and matter of fact. This is a bad guy who we hate from the moment we first see him in the opening scene but he’s not some master villain with a big plan--he just wants to keep lording over his district the way he always has without the Feds getting in the way and some of the undercurrent to all this feels like it could even be taking place today. WHITE LIGHTNING isn’t a great movie and it’s not even all that slick a movie—some of the conflict just kind of drifts away in the end a little more than I’d like and compared to the moody day-for-night photography I pointed out recently in DARK OF THE SUN, when it’s used here it comes off looking like bad lab work on the big screen (definitely not the New Beverly’s fault—aside from this, the print looked just fine) and it’s almost impossible to tell what’s going on during this section. A handful of what look like editorial shortcuts during some action scenes indicate that the film didn’t have all that big a budget but the most memorable stunt involving Gator’s car trying to reach a certain barge is so effective—and one that was apparently a mistake—that it manages to work almost better than if the stunt had gone perfectly. Sometimes those accidents are the moments that work best.


But even with some flaws, it’s the charisma of the character of Gator McKluskey that sells the film along with the down and dirty excitement of all those car chases. Considering how much Bo Hopkins resembles Jerry Reed (granted, a more serious version of Jerry Reed) and that this is a film about Burt Reynolds going up against a southern Sheriff the film does come off as a more serious, dry run for SMOKEY AND THE BANDIT but its earnestness makes it seem like it’s aimed more specifically at this market than the broad laughs of the SMOKEY films. It even allows for some quiet moments near the end, as Gator comes to a realization how little he really knew his brother and how he was the only one who ever tried to accomplish anything in his family. What the hell does it mean, Gator asks, and he never comes up with an answer, unless it’s simply to have one final chase with Ned Beatty. Maybe all that matters is that he came to a point where he was able to ask. Not exactly something you’d expect from a car chase picture called WHITE LIGHTNING. At one point early on Gator tells the Sheriff that there are only two things in the world he’s scared of—women and the police, to be specific. Bandit probably wasn’t afraid of anything and in some ways it makes the more human, flawed Gator McKluskey that much cooler. Bandit would probably never need my help in a jam but the less perfect Gator would. And if there were ever some weird circumstances where I found myself down in rural Arkansas in the 70s, I’d be proud to try to lend him a hand.


Damn right Burt Reynolds is Gator McKluskey and he’s pretty great, a total star every second he’s onscreen making every moment counts whether during the action scenes or the quiet moments. Sometimes Burt overdoes things with that laugh of his and all that, but here it always plays as just right. Ned Beatty is just amazing, totally believable during every moment and painting a portrayal of bland, lived-in evil in a way that you rarely ever get—the complete and total opposite of Buford T. Justice, it probably goes without saying. Jennifer Billingsley almost comes off as a peripheral character who becomes the main love interest out of nowhere, as if the actress herself has decided to drift to the center of the frame and the movie just decided to roll with it. When she brings breakfast out to Gator I can’t remember ever noticing a female lead’s dirty felt more than I notice hers. It’s a touch that only adds to the sexiness she oozes—she seems real, she seems like she’s really a part of this place. It’s a terrific cast all around, featuring strong work from Bo Hopkins, Matt Clark, Diane Ladd (billed as Diane Lad), Louise Latham, Dabs Greer and R.G. Armstrong who has a particularly funny response when asked if he’d like a certain knife shoved up his ass—you bet that got a huge laugh at the New Beverly. And that’s apparently Ladd’s daughter Laura Dern, uncredited in her film debut, playing her own onscreen daughter in the background of various shots.


It was mentioned before, but there’s an undeniable full-bodied nature to that Charles Bernstein score—damn, this music has a pulse—which combines dynamic action cues with a down home, good time feel to much of it as well. The feel from those blaring horns in the more bombastic cues (like the one that turns up in both KILL BILL and BASTERDS) aren’t even all that different from the feel David Shire brought to his PELHAM score for this director, an intriguing comparison point as if he just liked the sound, one of the reasons I love films like this from the seventies. Burt Reynolds’ strong run in that decade continued along after the release of WHITE LIGHTNING which included making his directorial debut for the return to Gator McCluskey in GATOR, released three years later. I still haven’t seen that one (which Jerry Reed is actually in) but looking the film up it doesn’t seem to be as well liked. And of course there was the Bandit, which shot his stardom to a whole different level. I still like that one too. In some ways WHITE LIGHTNING does feel a little tossed off like it was never meant to be anything other than a Burt Reynolds programmer and maybe that’s all they had in mind. But getting to see it at the New Beverly it’s clear that this movie remains strong, remains fun and remains a reminder of the kind of star Burt Reynolds once was and I suppose in some ways will always be. Combining all that action with a lived-in flavor that just feels genuine it’s a movie that in the end plays out as something more than it might otherwise have been. And there’s nothing at all wrong with that, then or now.

If Somebody Pays You

Now that I’ve experienced it in a theater, as far as I’m concerned Jack Cardiff’s 1968 mercenary epic DARK OF THE SUN should be one of those sixties widescreen action extravaganzas that everyone automatically knows of, even if they haven’t seen it themselves. The title should just be part of the vernacular, like how people are aware of the names THE GUNS OF NAVARONE and THE DIRTY DOZEN if not the actual films. However the film did when it was first released it’s pretty clear that, as happens sometimes, it’s fallen through the cracks somehow, not playing forever on Sunday afternoon TV like a few of those other films and not even easy to find on video. But clearly some people out there are fans (“One of Rod Taylor’s best films.” – Maltin) and one of them is definitely Quentin Tarantino who along with inserting a few score tracks into INGLOURIOUS BASTERDS even cast star Rod Taylor in a cameo as Winston Churchill. Tarantino has now also screened the film as part of his ongoing festival at the New Beverly Cinema and with the print flown in from England (which bore the alternate title THE MERCENARIES) this was definitely a valuable opportunity since the film probably isn’t seen much anymore outside of the occasional TCM airing when they do a “Rod Taylor Day” or something. Exciting, full-bodied, surprisingly ruthless and continually gripping, it transcends the stodgy feel that certain other action epics of the period sometimes seem to have when viewed today and its excitement holds throughout. Some movies of this kind—scratch that, most of them—are a boy’s adventure. DARK OF THE SUN is a man’s adventure, every step of the way, and it’s a thrill to see now.


Professional mercenary Bruce Curry (Rod Taylor) arrives in the Congo and is hired by the President of the country (Calvin Lockhart, whose many credits include Lynch’s WILD AT HEART) to use a train to rescue the colonial residents of a far off mining town which is in danger of being attacked by rebel Simbas as well as retrieve a batch of diamonds worth millions of dollars from the town vault, diamonds that the President needs badly within three days. Among the men he chooses to bring with him are close friend and colleague Ruffo (Jim Brown), who was raised on the Congo but went to school in the U.S., as well as alcoholic Doctor Wreid (Kenneth More) who he convinces to come with the promise of a case of scotch as payment. Among the others he hires on also includes the German Heinlein (Peter Carsten) who has no problem letting people know of his Nazi past. Numerous tensions quickly rise on the train ride to the town including the rescue of beautiful widow Claire (Yvette Mimieux) but it’s nothing compared to what awaits them when they finally reach their destination.


They don’t make movies like DARK OF THE SUN anymore but, frankly, I kind of doubt they made them all that often even then. To compare it with something like the previous year’s THE DIRTY DOZEN—also released by MGM, also featuring Jim Brown—that film plays as sort of a giant comic book (an amazing comic book, just so you don’t think I’m speaking ill of THE DIRTY DOZEN) but DARK OF THE SUN comes off as completely adult and gripping. Set right in the middle of a precarious geopolitical situation it depicts what’s occurring with the utmost seriousness, fully aware of the hypocrisy of those in charge and the gravity of it all makes things that much more dangerous. Essentially tossing us into this environment without explaining things too much, not a minute is wasted right from the start. Taylor and Brown are introduced, given their instructions, they discuss it for a few minutes, then off they go and while it’s essentially a men-on-a-mission movie (and partly a train movie too, which for someone like me who loves train movies feels like an added bonus, with some pretty cool footage of setting up the various cars as they prepare to leave) with danger around every turn almost as soon as they leave, since we’re dealing with mercenaries who are mainly working for profit--“doing anything for money”--and not soldiers forever loyal to their flag, the lack of immediate nobility lends it all an extra edge with only Jim Brown’s Ruffo who has a reason for his actions based on his own personal awareness of what’s going on. The action kicks off almost immediately with a full-fledged aerial assault taking place even before the half-hour mark, yet it somehow manages to maintain the balance of acknowledging the underlying seriousness of its story while never being self-serious about its own importance—it’s an action movie, after all, and it knows how to maintain the right amount of pulp flavor even with the gravity of what’s being shown. The tension also comes from unexpected places like the speed bump of why, once they arrive at the village, they can’t simply leave right away. Those diamonds that they’ve come to recover are essentially the McGuffin, of course, but while they play a key role in where the plot goes, particularly during the action of the second half as they need to be retrieved from the villainous rebels, ultimately it’s how the characters react to certain events that matter more than anything.


Director Jack Cardiff is best remembered as a cinematographer—his lengthy D.P. credits include things like THE RED SHOES, THE AFRICAN QUEEN, THE VIKINGS and even RAMBO: FIRST BLOOD PART II but while I’m nowhere near as familiar with his directorial work based on this film his style offers an undeniable command of the frame in every shot, a feel of stripping down the story to its essentials yet somehow paying equal attention to the characters and how to stage everything—because the characters have become so vivid, leading to some genuinely shocking developments, the viciousness of some of the action scenes are that much more potent as a result. The story (screenplay by Quentin Werty and Adrien Spies from the novel by Wilbur Smith) keeps us continually aware of the background of what’s going on yet at a very lean 100 minutes it’s surprisingly tight, especially considering how lengthy some of these films made at the time were. And the film features some truly exciting action that can be unrelenting--when things begin to go bad it’s genuinely startling just how much the shit really is hitting the fan. Something horrific occurs just past the half-hour mark (inspiring Rod Taylor’s character to deliver the memorable line, “Put the swastika back on”) that is shocking for the time and DARK OF THE SUN is never a movie that pulls its punches—the action is thrilling but never for the sake of just being flashy. One fight near the end is particularly brutal, with Rod Taylor at one point in a jeep pursuing someone across a lake but instead of just running them down, he leaps out of the moving vehicle to physically pummel that person himself as brutally as is possible, the sort of ferociously harsh feel that permeates every beat of the whole film.


And befitting something that is directed by the man who shot THE RED SHOES it’s beautiful to look at as well with a remarkable feel to the location work (actually filmed in Jamaica) and while some of the drawbacks of the era like the occasional use of rear screen projection are evident even the day for night photography has an evocative moodiness to it, along with a score by Jacques Loussier that is fantastically propulsive while also keeping a steady rhythm to its infectiously listenable main theme (which turns up on the BASTERDS soundtrack album), appropriate considering how much of it is set on a train. With attention paid to nasty details like the rate dead bodies need to be tossed off at certain intervals the tossed-off cynicism of the characters is palpable but so is their humanity--Taylor and Brown in particular have a relaxed chemistry that totally sells their friendship as well as their differences, making certain turns in the story all the more effective in the end. Like what often happens in these movies the one woman involved feels somewhat shoehorned in, meaning that Mimieux’s presence ultimately doesn’t matter all that much so any hint of attraction between her and Taylor feels mostly limited to a few glances even if it is kind of cool to see a TIME MACHINE reunion--some existing stills seem to indicate more of a romance for the two, unless of course those were just for publicity reasons. But elements like how a key character departs the main narrative sooner than you would expect makes what occurs in the plot seem natural, not just haphazard story construction, so almost all of it works. DARK OF THE SUN is exciting, nasty and compelling. Oh yeah, there’s a fight scene involving a chainsaw, too. A pretty damn awesome one. It’s a dynamite film.


Rod Taylor is maybe best remembered today for his roles in films like THE TIME MACHINE and THE BIRDS (his recounting how Tarantino convinced him to be in BASTERDS on that film’s DVD is truly touching) Taylor but he’s fantastic here, physically imposing and always forceful in his presence, with the right amount of awareness of what he’s doing. Jim Brown is cool—hell, Jim Brown is always cool (adding to this, the New Beverly ran a bunch of trailers for Jim Brown films before the film) but I’m not sure I’ve ever seen him so genuine in a movie, playing someone who forces his friend to wonder about what really matters in this harsh environment. Yvette Mimieux (the last name taken by Shoshanna Dreyfus in BASTERDS incidentally, furthering that connection) is given a memorable introduction when she’s seen from a distance fleeing danger through a pair of binoculars but after the anguish of her first moments (to my ears it sounds like her big speech is scored with the piece used during the “Shoshanna has a collection of over 350 nitrate film prints” moment in BASTERDS) doesn’t have all that much to do beyond just going along for the ride and ultimately threatened by the evil ex-Nazi near the end. Her gentle nature still makes it nice to have her around, though, an interesting contrast to all the unbridled testosterone at hand. Among the supporting cast Kenneth More is particularly good as the doctor who badly needs his booze and Peter Carsten has the right ice cold intensity as the nasty Heinlein, although oddly there’s a stretch during the first hour where he appears to have been dubbed by Paul Frees.


Brown’s character at one point recalls the primitive tribal beliefs of his past that he grew up with, based on ignorance, that spoke of eating the hearts of ones enemy and it is this fear of allowing that sort of brutality to take one over that the conflict in the film is really about, more than the diamonds that are being recovered or the mission on the train. Although, it should be said how phenomenally well done much of that action is and DARK OF THE SUN always maintains the balance of its excitement with the awareness of what the characters really need to face up to. Everyone else I talked to at the New Beverly was also blown away by the film and if it had played more than two days I probably would have gone back again, bringing more people to see it if I could have. For reasons too dull to go into I wound up not staying for the second film of the night, another Rod Taylor war movie called HELL RIVER (apparently with trailers of films starring him to balance out the ones with Jim Brown shown earlier) but DARK OF THE SUN was so completely satisfying for the night that I have no complaints. If it were as well known as the titles that were actually named it actually would have been right at home in Clarence Worley’s “I’ll tell you what a movie is” speech to Lee Donowitz in TRUE ROMANCE. Because damn right it’s a movie. A really good one. Word has it that the Warner Archive may be releasing it soon so hopefully more people out there will get a chance to see for themselves. One thing that nights of seeing a movie like this at the New Beverly can remind you of is how many others that are still out there, that have yet to be seen, to be discovered, to be experienced for the first time and hopefully on 35mm. Because when you find one this good, getting to experience it with people who feel the same way, it really can be a beautiful thing. So let’s keep this train moving.

Business Before Pleasure

As far as I’m concerned, every serious director needs to lighten up every now and then so they can make something like a breezy heist movie, even Sidney Lumet. And even when he did make one with 1971’s THE ANDERSON TAPES he still managed to bring a certain amount of arch gravity to it. Considering how different our typical impressions of their careers are, it seems somewhat surprising now that Lumet and star Sean Connery actually made five films together with one of them, FAMILY BUSINESS, even being another heist picture. THE ANDERSON TAPES is never talked about much these days so it was that much more of a treat to see it play as part of the month programmed by Quentin Tarantino at the New Beverly Cinema, shown on a double bill with Richard Franklin’s excellent ROAD GAMES. The two films really have nothing in common beyond being thrillers that deserve to be better known and even if Tarantino didn’t introduce the films on this particular night to explain the pairing getting to see them was more than good enough anyway. Seeing THE ANDERSON TAPES projected in particular was a nice surprise—viewing it on an old, faded Columbia Home Video VHS copy years ago the film seemed kind of dry and ineffective, but returning to it now it becomes clear just how much is really going on within its twisty narrative. Combining the expected enjoyment that comes from the genre with certain weightier issues of how technology at the time was transforming how things worked between people there’s a still certain touch of cynical playfulness in how it’s all put together. I’m not sure if in the end it feels like it’s all being done for any reason other than to present the story in a somewhat different way, but since it works as well as it does there’s very little to complain about. Like a few other films in this genre I could imagine it being said that its biggest flaw is that it is somewhat cold in the end, which it sort of is, but even if THE ANDERSON TAPES is kind of a shell game where we never get to move the pieces the way we’d want to it’s still a pretty good one with enough unexpected elements to help set it apart from the rest of the genre.


After spending ten years in prison for robbery, professional crook Duke Anderson (Sean Connery) is released to the streets of New York and looks up old flame Ingrid Everleigh (Dyan Cannon), who lives in a luxury apartment building with surveillance cameras always watching as a kept woman. After getting a look at her pad Duke quickly comes up with a plan to rob the entire building, gathering together several fellow crooks including fellow former prisoner The Kid (“introducing” Christopher Walken) and prissy antiques dealer Tommy Haskins (Martin Balsam) as well as others while receiving financing from old mob acquaintance Pat Angelo (Alan King). But even as preparations continue what Duke isn't aware of are the amount of people in multiple law enforcement agencies who become aware of what's going on through their own covert surveillance techniques. And as the day of the big job draws close Duke seems to have everything figured out but certain things he hasn’t planned on are waiting to surprise everyone involved.


With a screenplay by Frank Pierson (also responsible for Lumet’s DOG DAY AFTERNOON) from the novel by Lawrence Sanders, THE ANDERSON TAPES proceeds forward right from the start with a jagged rhythm. The incessant beeps of that Quincy Jones score meant to simulate a computer always keeping an eye on the characters sometimes turning into a bouncy motif as Connery assembles his team of motley characters, with one addition tossed in by the mob to add extra tension, in timeworn heist movie fashion as we become increasingly aware of just how many agencies out there know what’s going on. Even if they don’t care it’s clear that this is all going to come to a head somehow. Always being observed by someone, even as shown in the very first shot, Duke Anderson is in over his head in ways he doesn’t even realize and wouldn’t understand even if he was told. Pre-Watergate, pre-THE CONVERSATION, THE ANDERSON TAPES shows a changing world with its characters approaching middle age becoming gradually aware how much things are changing but they’re all so resigned to how they behave anyway that they can’t think of anything else. Duke talks a good game, coming up with something to say that he’ll admit is a total lie if asked but he really just does what he does because that’s the kind of crook he is. “Nobody tells nobody nothin’” somebody says at one point and it’s become a world where people never say what they’re really thinking, where certain things have been placed over any sort of actual connection between people until all you can do is walk away from them and act for yourself.


The somewhat dry style is consistent with the typical Sidney Lumet approach but the effect it provides is so unusual in this context that it could play considerably different, whether more lighthearted or more serious, on different viewings. Regardless, it still seems bouncier than you usually get with the director and is even surprisingly adventurous at times in its structure—when the big heist begins there are even multiple flash-forwards of the hostages afterwards describing what happened lending its end a sense of inevitability even while the actual outcome is being withheld at this point. It’s actually not all that different from what was eventually done in Spike Lee’s INSIDE MAN but for 1971 the gimmick comes off as surprisingly experimental and going back to look at these sections again I was surprised how a key piece of information is laid out in those shots, only somewhat obscured and we wouldn’t know yet to look for it anyway. Considering how some of the onscreen characters choose to ignore what they learn this kind of makes sense anyway--THE ANDERSON TAPES is set in a world where everyone seems to know everything but nobody really cares and all these technological advancements really do is make the actions of anyone allegedly in charge that much more futile, with everyone that much more distrustful of each other. As shown early on, this amount of surveillance doesn’t necessarily ever reveal the actual truth of what’s going on anyway. It’s extremely analytical in its approach with very little emotion and after an opening speech in which Anderson decries the hypocrisies of the world (much of which still plays pretty timely now) it’s almost as if the cold world of surveillance that doesn’t really care very much about the big picture becomes more the lead character of this film than the one referred to in the title played by Sean Connery. To everyone supposedly in charge he’s completely irrelevant to the greater story being told.


Addressing the futility of law enforcement was certainly something that occurred in later Lumet films and particularly considering Pierson’s involvement some of this can be seen as sort of a dry run for DOG DAY AFTERNOON but not much more than sort of—the two films are really different animals. Even as things play somewhat light during the robbery like the reaction of one particular old lady to what’s going on and even the dark humor that comes from one person refusing to give up their safe combination the tension is totally genuine, with tempers that erupt between both crooks and hostages played mostly straight with a feel of gravity and seriousness that is always there. And while as the heist begins the moment feels more like the groove provided by the Quincy Jones score that any form of suspense as things proceed there’s an every-growing sense of tension rising like a metronome gradually speeding up and all through the film the tonal approach seems to be teetering on a tightrope as if Lumet is testing himself to see how far he can go with either approach at any one time. On some occasions I’m not sure it entirely works—Ralph Meeker turns up as the police captain in charge during the final stretch and the Sheldon Leonard-type speaking manner he uses may be a little too broad (and, much as I love Meeker, I wonder if the comedic nature of his blustery character isn’t a little too off-topic somehow) yet the way character is introduced, in just about the most truly striking shot of the entire film, lends him a degree of credibility instantly. What results from it all in the end is a lighthearted downbeat film of the sort that could probably only be made during this particular period with an ending that leaves the viewer pretty much at sea and yet under the circumstances seems absolutely fitting. At one point during the final stretch a medic in the back of an ambulance is seen covering up a blood-stained pillow with a fresh pillowcase, which seems to say it all. Whatever’s happened, just cover it up and it’s done with.


This is the film Connery made directly before returning to Bond in DIAMONDS ARE FOREVER and he correctly plays Duke Anderson with a great deal of confidence, totally unaware how powerless he is in the grand scheme of things. With a gruff flatness to his accent and thinning hairline evident he comes off as completely imposing in every single shot he’s in—I think his eyebrows alone could beat the crap out of somebody. Freshly released from prison, he says early on that he hasn’t been laid for ten years—funny, when this was made that was almost how much time had spanned since he first began playing James Bond and one can look at his performance as a confident way to tweak the expectations of him in this kind of movie and to go against the stardom that resulted from that famous role. Looking about as beautiful as she ever did with a particularly stunning close-up when first introduced, Dyan Cannon brings a good deal of feisty attractiveness to her role as she gets more upset over whatever Duke’s planning although, truth be told, this is really one of those Angie Dickinson in OCEAN’S 11-type situations where the alleged female lead really doesn’t have that much screen time and is pretty much tossed aside by a certain point. Martin Balsam pushes the swishiness of his character up to 11 yet still manages to play certain moments as nicely understated so it never comes off as simple caricature (there’s a lot of dialogue referring to him as ‘fag’ and ‘deviant’, sometimes right to his face). Christopher Walken is the livewire you’d want to see him as at that young age, Dick Anthony Williams (many credits including DOG DAY AFTERNOON) plays well off Connery as one of the crooks recruited for the job, Stan Gottlieb is the old-timer Anderson brings in and Alan King, as the mobster who talks himself into funding this scheme, is so good in his few scenes that he could very easily have had a full movie focusing just on his character. The likes of Richard B. Shull and Conrad Bain appear, Margaret Hamilton is one of the old lady hostages in her final feature role and Garrett Morris has a surprising amount of screen time as a SWAT member during the climax—seeing him play scenes with Ralph Meeker, two actors you would never associate together, is one of those things I kind of love in discovering films like this.


I like heist movies. And, really, this is a heist movie directed by Sidney Lumet so there’s very little not to like. The dry absurdity of one scene involving a pair of telephone operators discussing a collect call may be the single funniest non-NETWORK scene of the director’s career and is only one of the surprises that can be found in the cynicism of THE ANDERSON TAPES. And while very much set in the gritty New York streets we associate with the director the kinetic feel is much more colorful, aided by the absolutely gorgeous print (apparently struck in 2008) screened at the New Beverly. Once or twice I even found myself sitting up in amazement at how the colors just popped off the screen, at just how great this film really looked. Bitter, funny, odd, exciting and definitely unique, THE ANDERSON TAPES may ultimately be a minor piece in the filmography of those involved but it still deserves to be better known than it is as what it presents has become all the more prescient, in a way turning each one of us into Duke Anderson—thinking we have some sort of idea of what we’re doing while at the same time never fully aware of who is keeping tabs and, in the end, never being sure of who winds up deciding we’re just not worth the bother.

So Much For The Seashells

I had planned to make my way over to the New Beverly for the midnight show of DEMOLITION MAN that played on the last Saturday of February but, well, what can I say. It was cold. I know this is Los Angeles we’re talking about but still, it was genuinely cold. And you know what? I just didn’t feel like doing that long walk from the subway station at Hollywood & Highland all the way down La Brea in the freezing weather for DEMOLITION MAN and I say that with all due respect to DEMOLITION MAN. I like DEMOLITION MAN, really I do, and have ever since I saw the movie when it opened back in October 1993. Coming in the middle of an early 90s comeback for Sylvester Stallone it sort of kicked off a mini-tradition of Warner Bros opening a new action extravaganza around Columbus Day weekend starring him over the next few years and for whatever reason I’ve always had kind of a soft spot for all its overblown ridiculousness. So I was exited at the prospect of seeing the film again in a theater particularly since I knew there was a possibility that co-screenwriter Daniel Waters (the man who wrote HEATHERS, so all should bow to him as far as I’m concerned) might turn up to discuss his involvement and maybe reveal answers to a few of the film’s mysteries that have been vexing everyone through the years like, you know, what’s the deal with the three seashells? Unfortunately I had heard ahead of time that he wouldn’t be able to attend due to the Independent Spirit Awards happening on the same day but nevertheless I had planned right up until the last minute to go because I was genuinely wanted to see it. But then I stepped outside, felt the cold and suddenly had a strong desire to remain inside for the rest of the night where it wouldn’t be so cold. So that’s the way it goes and I hope everyone who was there had a good time. Hey, it’s not easy when you don’t have a car. A few nights later I decided to take a look at the DVD—I didn’t want to do it on the same night, that would have been too depressing—which was probably my first viewing of the film in over a decade. Of course, I knew that it could in no way match the enjoyment of watching a 35mm print with a packed midnight crowd at the New Beverly but it was nice to find that I still liked the movie now just as I did then even if it is kind of all over the place. Frankly, as mishmash of tones go it’s still very much an enjoyable mishmash of tones.


In the near future of 1996, Los Angeles is a veritable war zone with the city in flames and the police helpless but one man is able to go against the biggest criminal of all, Simon Phoenix (Wesley Snipes) and that would be John Spartan, the Demolition Man (Sylvester Stallone). But when in the search for a busload of people Phoenix has taken hostage Spartan allows the destruction of his headquarters only to learn that his scans were wrong and the hostages really were in there. As a result Spartan, like Phoenix, is arrested and placed in cryogenic storage as punishment. Flash forward several decades to 2032 after Los Angeles has been felled by The Big One (which took place in 2010—guess we got lucky) and all of Southern California exists in a veritable utopia known as San Angeles ruled by Dr. Ryamond Cocteau (Nigel Hawthorne) where violence is no longer a way of life. Until, that is, until Simon Phoenix is thawed out for a parole hearing and escapes with powers even he doesn’t understand as he wreaks havoc everywhere he goes. When the police realize they are totally out of their depth to figure out how to deal with Phoenix at the behest of spunky young cop Lenina Huxley (Sandra Bullock) who prides herself in her great knowledge of twentieth century culture, they soon realize they have to thaw out Spartan to deal with him. Spartan is of course stunned by what society has become but as he begins to become aware of the special knowledge Phoenix seems to have of everything he begins to believe there is more going on than they first realize.


I think that opening shot of the Hollywood sign in flames with the title card stating “LOS ANGELES 1996” played a little silly even back in ‘93 but hey, it was only a year after the riots and the image certainly works as an attention grabber even if, frankly, it doesn’t have all that much to do with the rest of the film. The pre-credit sequence of the film directed by Marco Brambilla does actually feel a little like producer Joel Silver trying to throw us head first right into the biggest, most extreme Joel Silver action extravaganza ever made. As if it wants to outdo the typical Bond teaser it seems to pack practically a full narrative into just a few minutes of screen time with crazy stunts and an entire building being destroyed like Silver would do during those days in the LETHAL WEAPON sequels complete with Steve Kahan, the captain in those movies, making a brief cameo to complete the effect and the lack of CGI is pretty refreshing to look at now. I mean, come on, the destroyed a whole building. Even if Silver did produce a few more action movies in his patented style after this there’s something about the prologue of DEMOLITION MAN that feels very much like a big, noisy farewell to the approach he became famous for in the 80s. From that opener the movie then jumps forward into its LOGAN’S RUN-style utopia but manages to remain disarming from how instead of treating its science fiction milieu in an overly serious manner it practically becomes a full-fledged comedy, taking an arch look at how ridiculous this society really is as if to anticipate that no one would take this kind of buttoned-down utopia all that seriously. This sort of approach wouldn’t always be the right course to take—and it wouldn’t be such a bad thing if we actually did get a serious science fiction movie once in a while, not something retro-fitted to insert a lot of action—but in this particular case a large part of it works surprisingly well.


The screenplay, credited to Daniel Waters and Robert Reneau and Peter M. Lenkov (story by Lenkov and Reneau) features a story that is more than a little all over the place but the recognizable style of Waters makes up for a lot of that, giving the film a somewhat unique vibe that helps it stand out from other such action-sci-fi things of the time—the humor is goofier than the satire in Paul Verhoeven films like ROBOCOP and TOTAL RECALL but its tone is just as distinctive in its own right with a good amount of dialogue (‘Greetings and salutations’ from HEATHERS pops up a few times) and even a few character names pretty clearly coming right from Waters. It’s just about the best thing the film has because while the action is pretty decent at times, as mammoth as it all feels the overall production comes off as maybe a little more earthbound than it should. Even with the expected matte work used to depict the world of 2032 where most people seem to be outfitted in pan-Asian fashions it still feels pretty blatantly like a tour of a certain kind of ‘futuristic’- type architecture sprinkled throughout Southern California—one building I worked at on Wilshire years ago turns up and now that the San Diego Convention Center has become more familiar with the rise of Comic Con they might not be able to get away with using that if the film were made today. Maybe because the emphasis seems to be so much on these actual locations the nature of this future is never quite completely sold--all the glass and steel used throughout, even in sets that were built, makes the right impression but it still feels like there’s a design element missing to give it all full life. What stood out to me more than anything on this viewing about this particular future it how much of it actually resembles parts of the later ESCAPE FROM L.A., another film set in a post-quake L.A. where many earthly pleasures have been outlawed, outcasts are doing battle with those in charge and even contains a reverse shot of the Hollywood sign in flames. The approach John Carpenter took when he made his film is certainly more overtly political than DEMOLITION MAN’s humor which comes off more as a gentle tweaking of political correctness but the resemblance still seems undeniable and makes me wonder if the writers of this film ever thought they deserved residuals or something.


Much of it plays a little like a Daniel Waters-ization of what began as a more serious science fiction idea, a thought which makes me imagine how other famous screenwriters with similarly distinctive tones would have approached writing this kind of movie. Weirdly, on the DVD audio commentary director Brambilla says that Waters wrote “the original draft” which doesn’t quite jibe with the credits but who knows. Regardless, the sharp nature of the humor is a big reason why the film works as well as it does even if there’s frankly never all that much suspense or tension and the revelation of why Phoenix has been engineered the way he has doesn’t really have much impact. But with digressions like the luxury dinner at Taco Bell (the only restaurant to survive the “franchise wars”—gee, I wonder what that movie would be) I kind of doubt things like suspense or tension was really at the top of their list. A few bits even give it all a slight in-joke feel, like the comment about President Schwarzenegger which plays as a quid pro quo for the Stallone gag the same year in LAST ACTION HERO and it could even be argued that much of what works about Stallone’s performance could almost be read as if the star is playing all this as annoyed that he isn’t getting to star in the serious version of this film like he was promised. The clever running gag of people being fined when using swear words works nicely and I kind of admire the indisputable logic used by Phoenix when he wonders where all the phaser guns are since he’s in the future. Not all of the speculation of things to come works of course, like a Jeffrey Dahmer mention that wound up becoming dated about a year after the film opened and Bullock’s line, “That was better live than on laserdisc!” is probably wishful thinking on somebody’s part that the format would still be around so many years later. Bullock’s explanation of “Jackie Chan movies” when she’s asked where she learned certain moves definitely played a little hipper back then when he wasn’t quite as well known in the states but the actress still sells the moment anyway.


The overall result from all this is a film that remains consistently enjoyable while at the same time being one that has kind of a scattershot feel to it all, making me wonder if this was a production that never had one specific person in charge. It’s easy to imagine that Silver was a prominent force with the two stars offering a lot of opinions as well. Well known editor Stuart Baird (many credits for Silver as well as directing EXECUTIVE DECISION for him after this) cut this film and I kind of wonder how responsible he really is for the final product. For his part, director Brambilla made only one other feature after this (the forgettable Alicia Silverstone vehicle EXCESS BAGGAGE), followed by some TV as well as extensive work in the art world involving video installations but, maybe most surprisingly considering that background, there’s not all that much of a strong visual style here that feels evident in any way and the amount of real locations used ultimately makes it seem like a cheaper production than I suspect this Warner Bros. extravaganza actually was. Though it all comes together for the most part there’s still a feeling that a piece is missing. The film’s own story never quite lives up to the setting, humor and characters so it falls slightly short, like how a key character is disposed of near the end just a little too easily.


As things move into the second hour there’s a definite feel of a film that had multiple rewrites of rewrites as if they were trying to get away from the Waters approach back towards a more standard action film. Familiar character actor Bill Cobbs is prominent early on as the older version of a great helicopter pilot Stallone knew in the past but as soon as there’s a big mention of how he’s long since been grounded—an indication that’s going to come into play during the climax if there ever was one—Cobbs is suddenly never seen again. Some interesting science fiction concepts like how Spartan still had a form of consciousness which in cryo-freeze are never really dealt with and though late in the film there’s a nod towards observing how both Spartan and Phoenix might be on some common ground in this future which each objecting in their own way to how Cocteau wants to “take away people’s right to be assholes” the film pretty much disregards all that in favor of the pummeling and gunplay. Ultimately, it’s all strictly good guy vs. bad guy in a way that doesn’t really live up to what the characters seem like they might be at first. Not that there’s anything wrong with an action movie choosing to focus on the action and what’s here is even very well done but by a certain point in spite of all the cleverness it still feels like there could have been a little more meat on the bone.


Easily one of the best parts of the film is the adventurous score by Elliot Goldenthal that comes off very much in the same vein as his work on ALIEN 3 the previous year. Eclectic in all the right ways, it continually utilizes a variety of approaches by the composer while still managing to tie the various elements together, giving the film a sense of grandeur and mystery it never quite achieves otherwise. Of course, even Goldenthal couldn’t really make the movie more than what it is—on the soundtrack album the cue for the car chase is amusingly titled “Obligatory Car Chase” which is cute yet also says something about the oddity of this sci-fi epic containing a car chase at all, not to mention how it takes place on what looks exactly like a Los Angeles freeway circa 1993. Even if part of the gimmick is that Spartan is driving a vintage 1970 Oldsmobile in the future they couldn’t come up with something a little less obligatory than a car chase? Simon Phoenix asked where all the phaser guns were since he’s in the future so they couldn’t come up with something a little more futuristic? It’s this sort of thing that keeps DEMOLITION MAN from being more than it is, as big as it obviously is. But in spite of all this the humor and unique tone keeps a lot of it going all the way to the end. Frankly, there are plenty of movies that probably hold together better than this one does and aren’t as genuinely enjoyable. So at least it has that.


Sylvester Stallone does what knows how to expertly do in the action scenes but more importantly this may be one of the very best examples of his comic timing ever seen, certainly more so than in some of the actual comedies he made a few years before this—here he’s funny, he’s genuinely funny and it really lifts up the film every time he rolls his eyes at somebody listening to one of those ‘mini-tunes’ on the radio. For Wesley Snipes, this film came during that period when he was in about half the movies released and, sporting blond hair, he clearly knows how to play the live wire style of Simon Phoenix and his skill with martial arts makes him a formidable adversary but as much as he gets built up he’s ultimately not much more than just the bad guy and doesn’t really get to do anything more than be that. For whatever reason, the eclecticism of having Snipes play scenes opposite the fussy Hawthorne as Dr. Cocteau doesn’t really pay off as well as it should and while Hawthorne has some sly moments that work nicely he never quite sells how power hungry he’s supposed to be which leaves kind of a blank spot in his portion of the film. Sandra Bullock, who replaced Lori Petty several days into shooting, was just emerging at this point and completely charming as the 20th Century expert Lenina Huxley (although I always thought that instead of a LETHAL WEAPON 3 poster in her office she should have had one for a fictional LETHAL WEAPON 5 or something). She sells the comedy and the true earnestness that is at times needed as well as acquitting herself admirably during all the action as well. Plus, I’m not sure Bullock has ever been as undeniably cute in her entire screen career as when she sings that Armour Hot Dogs ad. Benjamin Bratt (who later starred with Bullock in MISS CONGENIALITY) plays the chipper Alfredo Garcia who surprisingly never literally loses his head although someone else in the movie does, Bob Gunton is a more lightly comic version of the officious prick he’d become legendary for in THE SHAWSHANK REDEMPTION while Glenn Shadix, also in HEATHERS, is Cocteau’s assistant. Denis Leary plays the key role of Edgar Friendly, clearly hired so he could come on late in the game and do his Denis Leary thing, much of it presumably ad-libbed. The tirade kind of stops the movie cold now just as much as it did back then but when Leary pulls back from that into his character he’s pretty good. Jesse Ventura gets nice billing considering he doesn’t really have any dialogue and Rob Schneider, the comic relief next to Stallone in JUDGE DREDD, is uncredited as one of the frightened SAPD cops. Jack Black is in there too as one of Leary’s men.


Like I said, my impression of returning to the movie would probably have been different if I’d made it to the New Beverly that night so and who knows how the crowd’s response would have affected things. I guess I’ll never know. For now, my own take is that ultimately my soft spot for DEMOLITION MAN remains, as messy and inconsequential as some of it is, with a script that offers just the right tweak to this kind of material in its own bizarrely energetic movie-movie way. “Silver Screen Kiss” is the final track title on the score album and when the piece is heard in the film it lends a nice sense of scope to this goofiness as the final shot plays out, giving it a certain kind of majesty and showmanship that I honestly miss from these movies. It somehow helps keep DEMOLITION MAN larger than life for me, even if I was only watching it in my apartment, and maybe even a little mysterious as I think about just how odd this movie really is anyway. And along with that mystery, the question of the three seashells will have to remain. But maybe that’s the way it’s supposed to be.

Nights Like This

And with that, another Academy Awards ceremony is over and done with. And what can I say. I suppose there are a few things but I’m not sure if any of them really go anywhere. Kind of like the show. Near the end of that opening montage we suddenly go at random from our hosts James Franco and Anne Hathaway interacting in movies from the past year into footage from BACK TO THE FUTURE where they…well, they don’t really do anything, so the lack of a joke in the joke is just left to hang there. Around the midway point we get an extremely welcome appearance by Billy Crystal who seems about to launch into a routine but then introduces a spruced-up clip of Bob Hope (apparently partly voiced by Dave Thomas!) who itself introduces the stars who will announce the visual effects award…and it’s all left to hang there. A few times we get some sort of old Hollywood related intro which momentarily causes confusion—are they trying to say that Tom Hanks was in GONE WITH THE WIND?—but the whole thing seems like it was dropped by a certain point…so it’s all left to hang there. And so goes the 83rd Academy Awards. Not a particularly good Oscar telecast and made all the worse what with having in THE KING’S SPEECH what might be the weakest Best Picture winner since….CRASH? A BEAUTIFUL MIND? DRIVING MISS DAISY? I’d name a few others but it would all start to upset somebody up there so I’ll let that hang there myself. And I don’t even dislike THE KING’S SPEECH but I look at it receiving this kind of honors and I think…really? Is that the best you’ve got? Have you been drinking heavily? At least we got a Natalie Portman win. And an Aaron Sorkin win, which was of course marred by how they played music over half his speech. Which they didn’t do with the guy who wrote THE KING’S SPEECH. The whole thing was rigged, I tell ya, rigged.


I don’t know what to do about the Oscars anymore. Does anyone? Is there any brilliant solution to the conundrum of this show that would satisfy people? Out of curiosity, the night before I read the piece I wrote on last year’s show—the one hosted by Steve Martin and Alec Baldwin—where I actually called it terrible but am I really supposed to remember why? I honestly wonder if it’s at all jumping the gun to call it the worst ever like some are doing, since it’s easy to imagine that a fair amount of it will blend together into all the others anyway. Is there any way to fix this thing, to make it something again? Is there any shred of actual Hollywoodness to take from it? As I watched the red carpet stuff with lots of TV actors being interviewed I kept wondering, are there any movie stars anymore? Do they even want to be movie stars? I think other years I’ve wondered this but by now I’m not even sure that I care anymore. Still, it even seemed like there weren’t even all that many out there in the audience unless they just weren’t cutting to them. Jack Nicholson seems to have abdicated the throne of his position in the front row from this sort of thing and any number of names you or I could mention seemed to be nowhere to be found, presumably having found something more enjoyable to do. There was hardly much attention paid to Warren Beatty, husband of nominee Annette Bening and once a huge star who also won an Oscar for Best Director in case anyone forgot. But I guess he’s no longer a celebrity now. There did seem to be a conscious attempt by those in charge to make nods towards old Hollywood but it all came off as a little half-baked, resulting in oddities like Javier Bardem and Josh Brolin dressed up as waiters at the Hollywood Roosevelt, and maybe it was all just too much in the abstract. Not much of it seemed to be about the actual movies so it all remained on the surface.


As for the much publicized hosts who seemed intriguing to me if only on a what-the-hell-are-they-going-to-do level I have a suspicion that James Franco was focusing his attention more on whatever experimental video project this is ultimately going to be a part of than the actual hosting—I’m sure somebody else noticed him filming the audience when he and Hathaway came out at the beginning. Possibly a better fit with traditional comedy, Anne Hathaway was cute, energetic, apparently waiting for the script to come and wore lots of dresses. I’m sure somebody out there was keeping count. Between the two of them there was really no chemistry at all and not much in the way of good jokes but Hathaway remained likeable all the way through which helped immensely. Before I continue going through the broadcast, for anyone who read what I was saying on Twitter and Facebook at the time you’ve seen some of this, so I apologize. Incidentally, I also spent a fair amount of the show flipping over to TCM where ANNIE HALL was airing and tweeting what was going on there as well. Really, this show deserved no better. But here are some thoughts:

I think I liked the opening a little better than some people out there (hey, I guess I’m just easy sometimes when it comes to these things) but maybe the novelty of having hosts interact with footage from nominated films is just gone and since it all ended in that BACK TO THE FUTURE clip for no real reason it seemed to be building to a punchline that never really happened like an expected cameo didn’t come through. However, I did like how Alec Baldwin’s participation (“Please. Call me Mr. Baldwin.”) gave a whole new level to that INCEPTION joke on 30 ROCK from a few weeks ago.


Kirk Douglas was to me absolutely wonderful as well as a genuine surprise considering how his lack of visibility in recent months during his son Michael’s troubles made me wonder how he was doing. Maybe the way he made a meal out of every second he was up there was too much for some. I don’t care. I thought it was a joy to see and it was hard not to love Anne Hathaway’s response to him as well. As weak as he might be and as difficult as it might be for him to speak, it’s clear that in his mind and spirit he can do the greatest tap dance you’ve ever seen with an enthusiasm was totally infectious. And I’m surprised to see there are some out there so down on him being there. Maybe they’re just afraid of old people and think when they’re past a certain age they should be hidden in a closet somewhere. I don’t know. And maybe his energy and embrace of the moment wasn’t quite the ideal fit with who was about to win and Melissa Leo was apparently playing the moment as if she thought she might be eligible for another Oscar for how she reacted but she was who I was rooting for anyway (and, unlike Hailee Steinfeld, was actually playing a supporting role) so it didn’t bug me too much. And damn it, she knew enough to bow to Kirk Douglas so she has my respect for that. I only wish she hadn’t been bleeped when she said whatever she said because coming from her it would have seemed somehow right. Oh, I also would have liked if she’d been followed up to the stage by all those screaming sisters from THE FIGHTER, but never mind. So the two pieces didn’t quite go together—and really, how is it possible to plan that sort of thing so they do which was part of its raggedy charm--but it was still honestly maybe my favorite stretch of the entire night.

On the other hand, if Hailee Steinfeld had won and Best Actress had eventually gone to someone who was actually playing a supporting role (Annette Bening, maybe?) that right there would have driven home how absurd all this really is.

I’ve said this before, but Mila Kunis deserved a BLACK SWAN nomination if only for the way she said ‘danke shoen’ when the waiter brought her that cheeseburger. I’m totally serious.

Nothing really to say about TOY STORY 3 getting Best Animated Feature. I’m still glad it won. I always am when a Pixar film gets it.


Loved seeing Aaron Sorkin win. As I already said, I hated that they played over him. Good for him for continuing. He’s Aaron Sorkin. He knows to mention the name Paddy Chayefsky, so he’s allowed.

We went from James Franco wearing a dress to Russell Brand coming out…gee, I’m really not sure which is worse.

The hope that Christian Bale also dropping an F-bomb was so obvious that he even joked about it. I still wish he had. Like mother, like son and all that.

Yeah, I don’t really get that bit with Tom Sherak either. Guess they were just tooting their own horn.

SOCIAL NETWORK winning for score. So there’s something else good. I think I’ll go listen to my CD of it again right now.

Matthew McConaghey was really, really tan.

TRON: LEGACY clip on the Oscars! Just wanted to point that out.

As for Scarlett Johansson, my mother called me during commercial to complain about her hair. I pretty much zoned out on whatever she was saying but you know what? It really does look like she only woke up a few minutes before she came out.


Marisa Tomei seems really, really nice. I want to ask her out for pie and coffee or something.

Based on her response to the clip from THE WOLFMAN, I have an idea for a new game show: GROSS OUT CATE BLANCHETT.

Hang on—weren’t we missing some kind of comedy bit featuring members from that whole Stiller/Wilson/Black/Ferrell/Carell contingent that would be replayed on Youtube endlessly? Where were they this year?

I guess that clip package of people discussing their favorite Best Song winner proves that people love terrible songs. But at least we got a .5 second clip from CASABLANCA in there. I pretty much didn’t pay attention to any of the new songs being performed either, so I really have nothing to say about them.

Around this point in the show ANNIE HALL had started on TCM so maybe you should put it on in the background while you read this.

Amy Adams seemed kind of dazed. Maybe she was nervous. She’d already lost by that point. I’ll leave her alone.

And there was that Auto Tunes thing. Maybe I’m just old but I still say that this segment was probably the worst idea in the long, sad history of bad ideas (to bring another viewpoint into this, someone I know told me they loved this which I guess says that I really am out of touch).

That random cutaway to the Coen Brothers sitting there bored and scratching their ears while Oprah yammered on about how documentaries ‘illuminate the human condition’ was the second best thing on the show, after Kirk Douglas.


Billy Crystal was beyond welcome and brought such an undeniable lift to the room, as if everyone just wanted him to stay out there that for a few minutes I forgot how he can be a little much at times. If he had been hosting would he have made a running thing out of Kirk Douglas a la Jack Palance? I just wish he’d been out a little longer than three minutes and had done something other than just set up an intro for a Bob Hope clip. The show is long anyway, nothing wrong with giving the guy a little time to make us all happy.

"Oh, there's the winner of the Truman Capote lookalike contest." Sorry, by this point I was going over to ANNIE HALL during every commercial break.

Remember when Randy Newman had been nominated a zillion times but never won? He’s kind of crazy, but I’m ok with that.


And now for the annual complaint about the montage of death. There’s no real way to win with this one, is there. They seemed to move through it faster than usual, I assume to get a few more names in. It was a pretty brutal year, after all. Still, my prediction I made a year ago that plans were already underway to no include Peter Graves proved sadly accurate. Eric Rohmer wasn’t in there either, nor were Ingrid Pitt, John Forsythe, Albert Brooks’ longtime cowriter Monica Johnson and Lisa Blount—yes, the actress from AN OFFICER AND A GENTLEMAN but also the producer of the 2002 Best Short winner (apologies if I’m forgetting anyone while I’m at it). As for the two more famous names not included and I ask this with all total respect--was anyone really expecting Tura Satana or Corey Haim to be mentioned? I definitely wouldn’t have complained, but was anyone surprised? And in terms of Maria Schneider, Betty Garrett and Kenneth Mars was there a date cutoff? Is there actually a valid reason for this date cutoff? Not to mention, well, insert complaint about Celine Dion here. And as welcome as Halle Berry was, spotlighting Lena Horne made it seem like they were giving short shrift to somebody like Tony Curtis who definitely deserved more than three seconds but again, there really is no way to win with this one.

"Wonderful, then why don't you get William F. Buckley to kill the spider?"

Nice to see Kathryn Bigelow again. Just felt like saying that.

Looking at the tape, it’s clear that Tom Hooper reallllly wanted his name to be called. I won’t say anything about him winning. But just remember, he has an Oscar and Tobe Hooper doesn’t. I would still like to see the Tobe Hooper version of THE KING’S SPEECH.

Awww, Annie's singing "Seems Like Old Times". Something nice in the world.

Jeff Bridges is still awesome.



Portman. Portman. That’s really all I’m going to say. PORTMAN. PORTMAN POWER.

Even when Anne Hathaway briefly messes up, it’s kind of charming.

Sandra Bullock is pretty charming too, for that matter.

It looks to me like Alvy and Annie broke up around here.

Maybe I missed something, but Colin Firth may have been the only actor to thank the person who actually wrote his film so…Respect.

“Max, are we driving through plutonium?”

As for that whole montage presenting the ten nominees for Best Picture I actually thought it was a rather elegantly assembled piece but then I began to notice how it had placed KING’S SPPECH dialogue over the whole thing. Whether intentional or not it basically told us who was about to win, emphasizing that film at the expense of all the others being honored that night and completely disrespectful to them as well. For me it was probably the low point of the entire night. Of course, maybe that was actually all those kids coming out for the finale to sing, but they’re kids so I’ll leave them alone.

And I missed the end of ANNIE HALL.


One segment I didn’t mention was the recap of last November’s Governors Awards but then again the show didn’t seem to pay much attention to them either so as a result we had Eli Wallach, Francis Ford Coppola and Kevin Brownlow (no Godard, of course) standing out there doing nothing, saying nothing. Tuco was there! And he didn’t get to speak! I’m sure everyone who goes to that dinner where they actually spend time honoring these people have a wonderful time but it doesn’t do much for those of us who for years loved the pure emotion that came from such legends being honored on the actual telecast. And this method of discarding the true history—not that old glamour of Hollywood stuff—is where it falters. Remind us why we love the movies. Make us want to love them more. You know how to do that? Remind us of what Francis Ford Coppola did. Tell us who Eli Wallach is. Tell us who Godard is. Spend maybe a minute to show why you’re actually honoring Kevin Brownlow. Everyone’s watching the show already. You can deal with the fashions and the Kardashians going to the Vanity Fair party later. These are the movies. It should be why we’re watching this show. And yes,I know this would only make the show longer. I don’t have all the answers. If I did, I’d probably be doing something other than writing this right now. But there has to be a better way.


Honestly, I don’t dislike THE KING’S SPEECH, it just doesn’t resonate much at all with me on any level and I don’t have any need to see it ever again. But at least it’s a serious film aimed at adults which is doing great business and, like the similar box office success of THE SOCIAL NETWORK, BLACK SWAN, TRUE GRIT among others this is a very good thing at a point in time when the studios seem to be openly flaunting how they have zero interest in such things. I won’t even bother bitching about it anymore but I am skeptical of who’s going to care about THE KING’S SPEECH after it leaves theaters and I wonder if in ten years Tom Hooper’s career will be where the career of SHAKSPEARE IN LOVE director John Madden is now—even if he didn’t win the Oscar himself the point seems valid. But the movies that matter, the ones that make us want to be this passionate, will survive. THE SOCIAL NETWORK will survive. BLACK SWAN will survive, as will Natalie Portman’s performance. Those final moments of TRUE GRIT which bring me to tears will survive. Maybe to keep some of that passion going they should just have Kirk Douglas host next year, maybe with Anne Hathaway, and have him give out each of the awards since I suspect that’s what lots of people out there right now would like anyway. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go watch my DVD of THE SOCIAL NETWORK once again. Peace.