Wrath of Kahn
Today’s video comes via The Obscurity Factor: a rare pilot for a 1986 sitcom starring Madeline Kahn. Chameleon has a lovely looking Kahn playing a wacky lady who can mimic her way out of any situation. It’s a talent which annoys her nagging mother (Nina Foch), but seems to impress a TV station manager (Henry Jones) into giving her a spot assisting a blowhard TV host (George Wyner). Fluffy as all get out, but Kahn is a joy to watch. She’s better cast here than in Oh Madeline, the 1983-84 sitcom which (from what I dimly recall) unsuccessfully tried to mold Kahn into Lucille Ball-like slapstick. Chameleon aired on ABC in the summer, as part of a series that burned off TV pilots which the network didn’t pick up. For lost ’80s sitcom fans, it’s a treat.
While we’re celebrating the fabboo Ms. Kahn, why not enjoy her performing “Getting Married Today” from Company? This was from a 1993 Sondheim tribute that aired on PBS.
This Mix Is a Good Thing
As the showers fall and the flowers bloom, only one thing comes to my mind — making a mix! I haven’t done an official seasonal Scrubbles.net mix since Winter 2009, too long. Good Thing assembles some of the music that yours truly has gotten into in the past 18 months. Much of it has a bright, Spring-y feel. There’s lots of synth pop, some ’80s-’90s faves, a few Japanese artists. As usual, it was put together with an ear for how well the songs flow together. It’s kind of amazing how similar something like Robyn’s “Hang With Me” can sound next to the Pet Shop Boys-produced Dusty Springfield gem “I Want to Stay Here” from 20 years earlier.
For the cover art, I used a detail from a Pollyanna LitKids print that was used to test paint colors. Very cute, and hopefully it will draw new customers to the store. Am I obnoxious, or what?
Anyhow, the mix is presented below as single mp3 file with the songs’ starts and endings segueing together. Additionally there is a track listing with links to YouTube videos of some tunes. Enjoy!
Download ‘Good Thing: Scrubbles.net Spring 2011 Mix’.
Track Listing:
1. Saint Etienne — “A Good Thing” (Tales from Turnpike House, 2005)
2. Amiel — “This Way, That Way” (Accidents by Design, 2004)
3. Erasure — “Make Me Smile (Come Up and See Me)” (Other People’s Songs, 2003)
4. Röyksopp — “Happy Up Here” (Junior, 2009)
5. Orchestral Maneuvers in the Dark — “Save Me” (History of Modern, 2010)
6. Robyn — “Hang with Me” (Body Talk, 2010)
7. Dusty Springfield — “I Want to Stay Here” (Reputation, 1990)
8. Tina Turner — “Confidential” (Wildest Dreams, 1996)
9. Pet Shop Boys — “To Step Aside” (Bilingual, 1996)
10. The Buggles — “I Am a Camera (12″ Mix)” (remix of a track from Adventures in Modern Recording, 1981)
11. Nokko — “Call Me Nightlife” (Call Me Nightlife, 1993)
12. Masami Okui — “Round Dance Revolution” (La Fillette Revolutionnaire Utena soundtrack, 1997)
13. Mari Atsumi — “Suki Yo Ai Shite” (1970 Japanese single, compiled on Nippon Girls CD)
14. The Paris Sisters — “Long After Tonight Is All Over” (Sing Everything Under the Sun, 1967)
15. Eliza Doolittle — “Pack Up” (Eliza Doolittle, 2010)
16. Konishi Yashuharu & Pizzicato Five — “Bibbidi Bobbidi Boo” (Readymade Digs Disney, 2003)
17. Soulsister — “The Way to Your Heart” (It Takes Two, 1988)
18. Patti Austin — “Every Home Should Have One” (remix of a track from Every Home Should Have One, 1982)
19. George Benson — “Inside Love (So Personal)” (In Your Eyes, 1983)
20. Boy Meets Girl — “No Apologies” (Reel Life, 1988)
21. Duffy — “Keeping My Baby” (Endlessly, 2010)
Flick Clique: April 17-23
How To Beat the High Cost of Living (1980). I remember seeing this flawed but fun heist comedy on network TV shortly after it came out — Jane Curtin was my second favorite Saturday Night Live cast member, after all. Never issued on DVD, I was delighted to find it on the local ThisTV outlet’s schedule. Does it hold up? Well… In her film debut, Ms. Curtin is perfectly cast as a prickly housewife whose architect husband suddenly deserts her, leaving her broke. Teaming up with similarly strapped pals Susan St. James and Jessica Lange, the three decide to stage an elaborate scheme to siphon off cash from a giant plastic globe, plopped in the center court at the local mall. This is actually a pretty fun movie, reminiscent of Disney comedies of the time like The North Avenue Irregulars. Most of its appeal today comes from the very dated but oddly prescient humor about economizing, being treated like a tool by large corporations, etc. The film is also neat to watch for the many scenes filmed in and around ’70s Eugene, Oregon which now have a nostalgic, suburbia-gone-by quality. The mall they used (Valley River Center, which apparently still stands) reminds this viewer of Tri-City Mall in Mesa, where I spent many hours in J.C. Penney shopping for school clothes. There are a lot of in-store scenes in this movie, too, both retail and grocery (gotta love spying all those old products on the shelves!). As for the movie itself, Curtin makes for a great harried housewife, climaxing with a daring strip tease near film’s end (the only segment I remembered from childhood). Lange and St. James, who later teamed with Curtin in Kate & Allie, do the best they can with their flat, underwritten roles. There are also some fun turns by Fred Willard, Richard Benjamin and Dabney Coleman (not playing a smarmy exec for once) as the men in these daffy ladies’ lives.
The Shape of Things to Come (1979). Was compelled to watch this streaming offering on Netflix after a few Facebook friends talked about how dated/awful it was. An in-name-only adaptation of the H. G. Wells book, TSoTtC follows a diplomat (Barry Morse), a pair of blow-dried space cadets (Nicholas Campbell and Anna-Marie Martin), and a funky robot as they attempt to retrieve the anti-radiation drug mankind needs to survive. Problem is, the precious drug can only be found on a far-flung planet ruled by an eccentric dictator — played at maximum ham by Jack Palance. This film is one of many that attempted to cash in on Star Wars, but its aesthetic is closer to that of a threadbare, non-sweeps episode of TV’s Buck Rogers in the 25th Century. The astronauts sport satiny jumpsuits perfect for the roller derby, and the requisite funny robot has quips aplenty, but this shoddy Canadian talkfest is disappointingly low on camp value. It’s actually downright boring, in fact, which leaves me shocked as to how the older actors in the cast (Palance, Morse, John Ireland, Carol Lynley) got attached. File under Space Junk. 1980′s UFO outing Hangar 18 is also on my Netflix Instant queue — watch, or pass?
Skyline (2010). Given the awful reviews this alien invasion flick got — and the multiple comparisons it got to the jingoistic Battle: Los Angeles — I was somewhat leery about Skyline. It’s no classic, but this sprightly popcorn flick kicks Battle: L.A.‘s butt in terms of sheer, action packed fun. The movie follows a young couple, played by the strangely Basil Rathbone-looking Eric Balfour and Scottie Thompson, as they travel to visit the L.A. penthouse of Balfour’s old pal turned successful rapper Donald Faison. The friends have a party on the first night, but the celebration is short-lived as overnight Earth is invaded by aggressive, tentacled aliens whose blue glow gives off a vaguely seductive power. A dwindling group becomes ensconced in the penthouse as the aliens wreak havoc on the city. Yes, the acting is about what you’d expect and the script follows a predictable path (until the head-scratching ending, that is). The CGI effects are excellent, however, and for once they are used not obnoxiously but in service of some crackerjack action sequences. That’s the best I can hope for on this seriously dumb, but enjoyable, flick.
Underworld Beauty (1958). Fast-paced Japanese crime flick has several of the quirky hallmarks of director Seijun Suzuki (Branded to Kill, Tokyo Drifter). The main thrust of the plot deals with a cache of diamonds belonging to a yazuka criminal gang. When a departing member swallows the diamonds before killing himself, the victim’s sister and her boyfriend become embroiled in the criminals’ greed. Slick, gorgeous b&w cinematography is the star here. The story is somewhat routine, but it does allow the filmmaker to employ interesting set pieces such as the studio of a mannequin sculptor. I would actually think of Underworld Beauty as a good entry point for vintage film noir who want to dip into the Japanese side of that genre. Fun movie.
Waste Land (2010). Independent Lens showing. This Oscar-nominated documentary focuses on New York-based artist Vik Muniz, who took on a project to address the cost of globalization and consumer culture on the poor in his native Brazil. The film documents Muniz’s efforts to construct huge, awe-inspiring portraits of garbage pickers made out of the very refuse the people deal with every day, selecting recyclable plastic from a giant landfill for a meager salary. The artist becomes friendly with several of the pickers, involving them in the entire process leading up to a gala opening at an art museum in Rio de Janero. The pickers themselves are a fascinating, eclectic bunch, even more so than the artist himself. Watching this I experienced shock (that a country as large as Brazil lacks a real recycling program), heartbreak (at the pickers’ stories) and finally admiration. The film is very PBS-y and somewhat overlong, but worthwhile all the same for a sobering look at how our “buy” culture affects everyone.
Xin Nü Xing (1935). Typical “women’s picture” of the ’30s, only Chinese and serving as a vehicle for the luminous, tragically fated actress Ruan Lingyu (whose life was later given biopic treatment in the 1990 Maggie Cheung vehicle Centre Stage). Xin Nü Xing (English title: New Woman) was Lingu’s final film before the actress took her own life. In it, she plays a young aspiring writer who is working as a music teacher. She meets an old friend and becomes involved with the friend’s husband, a lecherous doctor who had a past history with her. Eventually we find that the woman’s daughter from a previous failed marriage is very sick, and the doctor’s actions force her to get fired from the teaching job and take up prostitution. This silent drama was never released on DVD in the U.S.; we actually watched a later issue of the film (overdubbed with music and weirdly synchronized Chinese dialogue) on CD which we found at the local Goodwill. Even without the benefit of subtitles, it was still an interesting experience mostly due to the intriguing Ruan Lingyu. She is tender in the scenes with her child, then emotional (and overwrought) in the climactic scenes. Even within a single scene, the subtle changes in expression on her face are cool to watch.
New at LitKids: Laura Ingalls, Edition No. 2 Print
I have a new Laura Ingalls, Edition 2 print available for sale at LitKids. This is a variant on the earlier Laura Ingalls printed on pages from Little House on the Prairie that was added to the store in October. That print was a real bear to make, but it unexpectedly became the first sold-out print I did. For this go-round, I attempted to remake the same design in different colors (with warm reds and oranges replacing the original blues), but the results were not satisfying to me. The brushy quality in the drawing never adequately translated to silk screen in either edition, so halfway through the project I scrapped everything and came up with a new, cleaner drawing that looks more like a silhouette. The design was printed on the remaining papers that were prepared — and now I’m happy to have Laura Ingalls, prairie girl, back at LitKids!
Flick Clique: April 10-16
Evangeline (1929). Lush, romantic late silent is a good vehicle for the beautiful Mexican actress Dolores Del Rio. Based on a Longfellow poem chronicling real historic events, the story revolves around Del Rio as she is set to wed her beloved (Roland Drew) in the bucolic Canadian village they share. British troops storm in on their wedding day, however, and the lovers are separated in the fiery conflict. As Del Rio and several other villagers escape to Louisiana, she spends years trying to locate Drew, who is also in pursuit of her. This is, first and foremost, a beautifully photographed film. Not only does it make great use of Northern Californian locales (standing in for Canada), but Del Rio receives some of the most angelic, luminous close-ups ever committed to celluloid. For a viewer mostly familiar with the more exotic, less challenging roles she did at Warner Bros. in the ’30s, this particular film was an eye-opener in terms of the complex emotions Del Rio goes through. I also thought it was interesting to see how they integrated sound here in certain scenes via pre-recorded Vitaphone discs, and the film’s complex use of tinting was a delight (why did that practice go away with sound, too?). That said, the film itself is weirdly paced with a dull middle and several scenes that drag to no appreciable effect (Del Rio mouthing an endless song with no sound, for example). The ending plays its melodramatic cards to an appropriately fevered pitch, however.
Hereafter (2010). Clint Eastwood’s sober examination of life after death got a mixed reception last year; we both enjoyed it a lot. The film deals with three disparate characters and the ways they question their own mortality. A French journalist (Cécile De France) barely escapes drowning in an Asian tsunami and decides to take a sabbatical to write a book on the afterlife; a lonely San Franciscan (Matt Damon) has a supernatural gift for communicating with the dead which rules out any meaningful personal relationships; and a British boy (Frankie and George McLaren) desperately yearns for closure after experiencing a tragic loss. How the three leads are brought together is rather too coinky-dinky for my tastes, but the individual stories themselves are quietly compelling and excellently acted (even the boys playing the twins were good, if somewhat glum). Special mention goes to Bryce Dallas Howard as a flighty girl who is enrolled in a cooking class with Damon. And the tsunami sequence? Awesome. That deserved a special effects Academy Award nomination.
The Man with the Screaming Brain (2005). This campy horror spoof was a giveaway with our Oldies.com DVD order. For free, what did we have to lose? Now I know that the precise answer is “90 minutes.” Bruce Campbell of the Evil Dead flicks brings his everyguy geniality to this spineless yarn of an industrialist who travels to Bulgaria and winds up getting killed by a predatory witch. He is then revived by mad scientist Stacy Keach, who combines his brain with that of the local taxi driver who had a dalliance with Campbell’s blonde wife. Kind of a grade-Z version of Steve Martin and Lily Tomlin in All of Me, really, only boring and not all that funny. The film was actually filmed in several Bulgarian locales, which is instructive to know so you can avoid traveling there.
Music of the Heart (1999). Sappy Meryl Streep flick falls into the usual “inspirational teacher” film clichés, but is entertaining nonetheless due to its always appealing star. Streep plays Roberta Guaspari, a real violin teacher who re-enters the workforce after a painful divorce. Through the help of friend Aidan Quinn, she elbows her way into a teaching spot at the tough Harlem elementary school presided over by Angela Bassett. Facing resistance from kids, parents and budget-minded school admins alike, she nevertheless perseveres and makes the offbeat program a success. Totally predictable, but I have a soft spot for Meryl in anything she does and here she didn’t disappoint in creating a nuanced, sympathetic character. Odd seeing Wes Craven’s name attached to what otherwise plays like a treacly Lifetime, Television for Women® movie. This was produced by Miramax during the period when they started abandoning edgy indie productions for mainstream fare.
Urban Explorers: Into the Darkness (2007). Soon after getting Netflix instant offerings, I added this intriguing looking documentary to queue without knowing anything about it. We finally got to it after knowing the film will get deleted later this month. The subject matter here is urban exploring, the often risky passion of those who enjoy checking out abandoned factories, hospitals, churches, sewers, missile silos and any other cavernous spot that has gone forgotten by human progress. Certainly a worthwhile subject for a documentary, but the film is rather rambling and takes on its subject from a limited perspective. Mostly it consists of interviews with the enthusiastic but not very articulate explorers themselves — a young, mostly male crowd who approach their hobby with the same “extreme” passion that one would find with snowboarding, graffiti or any hobby with a slight anti-establishment edge. Some interesting sites are explored (including a Home of the Future turned crumbling hulk in Florida), but the talky posturing that dominates makes the film come off as little more than a glorified home movie.
It’s a Mod, Mod World
Just a note to say that I’ve posted my little piece at Joyce Compton News & Notes about the Marian Marsh/Warren William Pre-Code flick Under 18 and Joyce’s brief appearance in it. Please check it out!
Today’s video comes via The Video Beat, an online retailer of offbeat ’50s and ’60s video. This is French Ye-Ye singer Sylvie Vartan in a Japanese commercial for a mod clothing purveyor called Renown. Dig that groovy Op Art:
Flick Clique: April 3-9
Blue Water, White Death (1971). Laid-back documentary on one crew’s hunt for the elusive Great White shark is a precursor to Jaws and Shark Week on The Discovery Channel. The film documents department store heir Peter Gimbel as he embarks on a quest to find a Great White off the coasts of Africa and Australia over a nine-month period in the early ’70s. The most interesting aspect of this film is the contrasting attitude the explorers had towards nature back then (it’s important to note that these are explorers, not scientists or researchers). The crew seemed like a pleasant enough bunch, but they foolishly attempt to lure a shark by harpooning a whale (an agonizing sequence to watch) and dragging its hulking carcass through the ocean. Later on, they are shown rudely poking and prodding a bunch of smaller sharks. In a sojourn on land, one of the men is shown yelling at a sleeping baby seal, who then waddles away frightened. This movie probably gave Jacques Cousteau a heart attack. Don’t these people know how to be discreet? Thankfully those scenes are the exceptions in what is otherwise a somewhat mellow doc sporting some nice widescreen underwater photography. Spoiler alert: the Great White is finally uncovered near film’s end, attempting to munch on some divers in cages. For anyone interested, this DVD was on sale for $2.98 at Oldies.com.
Listen Up: The Lives Of Quincy Jones (1990). Picked this DVD up at Big Lots for less than three dollars. I like Quincy Jones’ considerable work as a film composer and music producer and was curious about this kinetic documentary, filmed at the same time he recorded his Grammy-winning Back on the Block album. The film corralled a lot of impressive stars (Sinatra, Streisand, Winfrey, Al B. Sure!) to speak on Jones and his influence, but it’s also told in a fragmentary way which gets irritating after awhile. The speakers are not usually identified, and usually don’t even utter complete sentences before the MTV-esque film moves on to something else. Jones is presented as a consummate professional, very driven and focused, but also something of a cad who cheated on his three ex-wives. This is a maddening film, jumping all over the place with little rhyme or reason, but where else can you hear Ella Fitzgerald scat-singing the Sanford & Son theme? Snippets of great music help, but then again the Back on the Block tunes make an already dated film have a virtual “expires 12/31/90″ stamp. Interesting flick that those with no interest in Jones can safely avoid.
No Regret (2006). American gay films are a dime a dozen, but how often do you get to see a South Korean gay film? No Regret has the distinction of coming from one of that region’s few openly gay filmmakers, Hee-il Leesong — but it’s also a compelling, human drama regardless of the lead characters’ sexual orientation. In it, a poor young man named Sumin balances school with an evening job and a daytime factory job. It is at the latter that he ends up getting fired, and finds that the head boss’ son Jaemin is the same person who propositioned him the night before. He reluctantly takes on working at a bar/brothel where many other orphaned males must work. Eventually, Jaemin finds Sumin at the brothel and the two have a stormy relationship which intensifies when Jaemin’s parents arrange for him to marry a woman. The film takes on a much darker tone near the end, but for the most part the acting/drama has a subtlety that calls to mind the similar couple played by Leslie Cheung and Tony Leung in Wong Kar Wai’s Happy Together. If you enjoyed that one, think of No Regret as its less artsy but no less compelling cousin.
TRON: Legacy (2010). Such a disappointment. I won’t rehash the plot here, but TRON: Legacy is an update/sequel to Disney’s cult hit TRON. The original TRON was something of a flop in 1982, but has since gained an appreciative audience for its geeky retro-cool visuals. The same fate might befall TRON: Legacy, since it also has a seriously flawed script but a tasty visual palette that replaces the original’s black-light/neon computer graphics with a sleek interface that is one part fluorescent lighting and one part current Apple product line. The engaging way the film updates the light cycle and disc throwing games and Daft Punk’s atmospheric score were also plus points. Those were the good parts. The bad parts were — everything else. The film’s main fault lies in a muddled, hard to follow script that suffers from the “too many cooks” syndrome that afflicts every other Disney film the studio cranks out. Jeff Bridges and Bruce Boxleitner make welcome returns reprising their TRON characters, but bland Garrett Hedlund is a letdown as Bridges’ pouty son, and it doesn’t help that the actor engages in a hackneyed “my dad abandoned me” theme. Many scenes play out their welcome long after they’re supposed to, including the segments with Bridges, Hedlund and Olivia Wilde (as another computer creation, Quorra) confabbing in a 2001-ripoff hideout. And the mannequin-like CGI Jeff Bridges? Huge mistake. Abort! Abort!
Waltz With Bashir (2008). Edgy, visually arresting animated memory piece from Israeli writer/director Ari Folman. The film follows a middle-aged man who is plagued with surreal dreams relating to his time as a soldier in the 1982 Lebanon insurrection. Attempting to sort his own faulty memories from reality, he interviews fellow veterans as they recall various aspects of that badly planned, bloody conflict. This film explores the futility of war with both tragedy and humor, using (what I think is) documentary audio of real veterans. The animation ranges from cheesy, limited Flash to completely immersive — especially on the more surreal segments involving dying horses, porn tapes and Amazonian nude women. The film likely would have been more illuminating for those who already have background knowledge of the Israel/Lebanese conflict, but we enjoyed it all the same.
Under 18 (1931). An overlooked pre-Code melodrama that I got from Warner Archive. I will be doing a more in-depth piece on this at the Joyce Compton News & Notes weblog (Joyce has a small part as a model).
Think Different
Earlier today I watched the 1970 Syd and Marty Krofft opus Pufnstuf, the theatrical feature based on their psychedelic Saturday morning show. I vaguely remember seeing this movie a long, long time ago. The story revolves around a boy named Jimmy (Jack Wild) as he journeys to Living Island, a land of talking animals, trees, clocks and other objects presided over by the Southern-accented dragon named H.R. Pufnstuf. The characters spend most of the time evading the evil Witchiepoo (wonderfully hyper Billie Hayes) as she attempts to steal Jimmy’s talking flute, Freddy. This is about as weird as you’d expect, shrill and directed in a jumpy, disjointed manner that doesn’t hold up too well. It is worth a look for the wild production and costume design, however. Probably the most impressive part of the film is Charles Fox and Norman Gimbel’s groovy music, a highlight of which comes when Cass Elliot (as a witch) lends her soaring alto to an ode to individuality called “Different.” It’s a strangely touching moment in a film that otherwise goes down like two dozen boxes of Lucky Charms.
Another thing I noticed — Trey Parker and Matt Stone totally based South Park‘s Towlie on Freddy the Flute. Even the voices are the same! Onward to our musical entertainment:
Flick Clique: March 27 – April 2
Abbott & Costello Meet Frankenstein (1948). This horror-comedy gem aired as part of This TV‘s April Fools Day marathon of A&C features. Bud Abbott and Lou Costello play delivery men on a job involving taking two huge packages to a museum of horrors. Little do they know that the boxes contain Dracula (Bela Lugosi) and Frankenstein’s Monster (Glenn Strange). An anguished man with a curse (Lon Chaney, Jr.) tries to warm them about the shipment, only his interruptions are strategically timed to whenever a full moon is out. This movie was actually a well-done riot, and had I been eight years old I would eat it up. Even as an adult, the film’s good-natured briskness won me over. Abbott and Costello have more élan than the Three Stooges, and they are effectively supported by not only the famed trio of monsters (all of whom play things totally straight) but a couple of lovely ladies played by Lenore Aubert and Jane Randolph. Universal studios gave this particular film a top-flight production, which included clever animated bits by director Walter Lantz of Woody Woodpecker fame. This seems like the kind of movie (like the Hope-Crosby Road pictures) where the fun the participants had spills over into the viewers’ delight. Speaking of which, here are some outtakes from the film posted on YouTube:
Battle: Los Angeles (2011). Our afternoon out at the movies, leave your brain at the door. For the record, this was Christopher’s choice, not mine, although I went along since the trailers were effectively scary and the concept of industrialized aliens invading L.A. was at least somewhat intriguing. Well, the film has the bones of a good, brainless romp, but the film is too consumed with rah-rah jingoistic clichés centered around its lead characters to be truly enjoyable. In all honesty, this could be a recruiting film for the Marines, aimed at gullible young people who buy into all that macho bullcrap. Dimple-chinned Aaron Eckhart gives it a go as a Marine officer, about to be forcibly retired, who is drafted back into service when meteorites strike off the shores of several worldwide metropolises. Our wonderful team of ragtag fighters are at the ready when it is revealed that the meteorites are actually aliens (uh oh) who unleash a battery of militarized firepower to colonize earth (double uh oh) for our water supply. The aliens are formidable, reptillian creatures who use sophisticated droid ships to fire down on people — in fact, the single most impressive moment in this film is a sequence showing the droid fighters forming into a giant ring in the air. That, alas is only about 30 seconds in what amounts to a 116 minute endurance test. Too bad the film gives so much air time to Eckhart and his fellow Marine-clichés trudging through a hackneyed save-the-civilians story (let’s not forget the adorable, scared shitless kids!). Christopher had a similar reaction, explained more artfully, on Just Ask Christopher.
The Friends of Eddie Coyle (1973). Multilayered, über ’70s crime drama that flew below my radar until it recently got a deluxe Criterion release. A sense of resignation hangs over this Peter Yates-directed tale of small-time hood Eddie Coyle (Robert Mitchum), who decides to tip off federal investigators to an underground gun dealing operation in order to avoid serving jail time. The probe sets off ripples in Coyle’s circle, including a shady bartender (Peter Boyle), a man (Alex Rocco) who stages elaborate bank robberies, and a nervous guy (Steven Keats, a solid mainstay of ’70s-’80s movies and TV) dealing firearms out of the trunk of his lime green econocar. This one reminded me of The Conversation in having a wide array of fascinating characters with a vague air of uncertainty (only Dave Grusin’s score seems cheesy/dated). Having the film set in grubby, autumnal Massachusetts was another good stroke. Mitchum is excellently cast, but the same could be said for the smaller players as well. The ending threw us for a loop; an intelligent, thoughtful gem from the ’70s!
It’s A Pleasure (1945). I rented this glossy musical more out of curiosity to see Olympic skater Sonja Heine, one of the most popular movie stars of the 1930s but largely forgotten today. It’s A Pleasure is one of her later vehicles, in which she plays a figure skater named Chris who helps recruit Don, a a gruff hockey player (Michael O’Shea), into her traveling show. The couple fall in love and marry, but their marriage is tested by his drinking and a scheming woman (Gale Fletcher) who wants to tear them apart. Rather routine picture enlivened by sharp, beautifully preserved Technicolor photography and outlandish, costumey 1940s fashions (this would be a field day for a drag queen). Heine, best known for her dizzying spins on the ice, is something of an Ether Williams-style one trick pony with a dazzling albeit forced smile and little in the way of screen presence. She is oddly matched with burly O’Shea, who seems to have wandered onto the wrong set on his way to the film noir he was supposed to shoot. At least Iris Adrian is on hand to play one of her usual salty gal pals. Most of the numbers are forgettable, although there is one strange attempt to transplant Latin standard “Tico Tico” to an ice-bound setting. Because of the lead characters’ unique names, I motion that this film be retitled Chris & Don: A Love Story.
127 Hours (2010). James Franco as Aron Ralston, Utah hiker famous as the guy who hacked his own arm off to escape being trapped by a fallen boulder in a remote crevice back in 2003. I wasn’t sure what to expect of this film, since the story was already well known well before filming started. And how entertaining can a film about a guy stuck under a rock be, anyhow? Well, this was an eye-opening, very life-affirming experience. Expertly directed and co-scripted by Danny Boyle, the film delves more into the psychological aspects of Ralston’s plight, making it more of a memory piece on family, memory, regret and always letting loved ones know when taking a dangerous solo trip somewhere. Boyle’s flashy directing style, overstated on Slumdog Millionaire, seems perfectly pitched for this material (really, the editing is fantastic). I also liked Franco’s performance, which capably goes from humorous to reflective to self-despairing, sometimes within a minute’s span. Viewers got caught up in the self mutilating aspect, but that scene wasn’t so horrifying as the initial sound of Franco breaking his own arm bones. Would any of us find the courage to do the same thing?
