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The Dead Zone (David Cronenberg, 1983) [rewatch]
An effective, creepy thriller that is helped significantly by Cronenberg's economical direction and Walken's engaging performance as a man who, after years in a coma, finds himself with an unexplainable supernatural ability. The film counters the supernatural elements with the emotional story of loss and alienation, as Johnny's fiancé has remarried during his coma, but it always paints the psychic ability much more as a disabling curse than a mystical gift (I don't think Johnny would ever buy a mobile home and read fortunes by the side of the interstate). It hurts Johnny to see the future because in some way he also experiences it and is powerless to stop it. Even though the ending with the senator feels a little trite, overall it is a good film featuring one of Walken's finest performances.

Sauve qui peut (la vie) [aka Every Man for Himself; aka Slow Motion] (Jean-Luc Godard, 1980)
Godard has described this movie as something of a fresh start (his “second first film”) and it definitely feels like it. From the opening scenes in the hotel even into the bike riding in the country, the comedy is bold and fresh. I loved the opera singer following him through the hotel and the scenic bike ride that gets interrupted by a group of serious cyclists. Godard leaves comedy behind early on, however, as the film becomes more of a study of emotional humiliation. There are moments when the synth score kicks in and we hold on an image (fascinating use of slow motion, by the way, where the mundane suddenly takes on the aura of the profound) where it feels as if we might get Godard “playing it straight” (ie. making an emotional connection), which he quickly subverts by cutting out the music and giving us a new scene in which we must restart any emotional investment we were trying to make. I suppose this is right in line with what the film is exploring, where the film itself humiliates the audience’s efforts to engage with it. I like Godard’s auto-critique of himself too, perhaps both as a man and a filmmaker. Here he is depicted as a sleazy and sad video producer (named Paul Godard) who is a demeaning emotional destroyer of women, most particularly his ex-wife, current girlfriend and daughter (those who have tried to make an emotional connection with him).

This explains the emergence of the theme of prostitution, which, in this context of emotional connectedness, seems most desirable to Godard because it is a relationship devoid of emotional connection or relational commitment. He also places prostitution within the decidedly capitalist context of business. We meet Huppert’s character, a prostitute who has accepted the manual labor of prostitution and anticipates the self-humiliation of the work as one of the services she provides to her rich clientele. This theme of humiliation finds its fulfillment within its new capitalist sub-framework in the weird corporate orgy envisioned by a boss, his associate and two prostitutes. Godard’s lightness of touch on these matters of prostitution and emotional humiliation coupled with explicit sexual frankness may be off-putting to some, but to me, it adds to the nearly surrealistic experience of watching the film and it also fits conceptually within Godard’s framework. All in all, a fascinating movie that continues to grow on me the more I think about it. And that final shot is a stunner.

Tarzan, the Ape Man (John Derek, 1981)
This absolutely insane journey into the heart of lust -- with Bo Derek literally bathing in every body of water she happens to pass by -- certainly wears thin over its 110 minute run time. The story, such as it is, concerns a beautiful woman inexplicably journeying into the jungle to find her absent father and then following him deeper into the jungle where they run across Tarzan and she accidentally discovers sexuality. Richard Harris enjoys the opportunity to yell at everyone around him and to give such oddly sexist dialogue a nearly satiric edge, such as "Your mother nearly died during your conception. I held her too long; I loved her too hard." Despite a couple of scenes that try to paint the film as some sort of progressive tale of women's liberation from patriarchal structures, Bo plays the innocent Jane with enough winking sensuality that it is all pretty obvious that this is a film about Bo Derek's breasts. Despite being a sludge to get through, minor bonus points for the battle with the boa constrictor that suddenly finds itself being the weirdest Martin Arnold film never made. Plenty of troublesome depictions of natives as well, complete with a visit from the Jodorowsky rainbow tribe.

The Territory (Raúl Ruiz, 1981)
A group of bourgeois Americans take a backpacking trek into a forest somewhere in Europe and become more and more lost and desperate as they begin a descent into primal madness. What we get are a handful of ciphers complaining about wandering in circles for days while the murky beauty of the film begins to engulf them. I understand this all serves an atmospheric and potentially symbolic purpose, but I found myself frustrated by their stupidity, especially the fact that they could have

Spoiler

simply followed the road when they found it.

Yet, even with the incredibly wooden performances, thwarting of narrative interest, lack of traditional “character development,” there is something to be said for the atmosphere the film lives in. The forest is always changing, in moments it is deep and mysterious, in others mystical and bright, in others harsh and cutting. The trajectory of the characters, though foolish at times, is not much different from that of a conventional American slasher displaced and deconstructed within a European arthouse context. There are some searing images that will not leave me and Ruiz never intends it to be overly serious. When two children find a human hand under a rock and begin arguing over whether it is theft to take it with them, it feels like the Ruizian equivalent of a knock knock joke. All in all, it is a baffling and frustrating experience, one I admit I enjoy thinking about after the fact much more than I enjoyed watching in the moment.

You Are Not I (Sara Driver, 1981)
A girl escapes from a mental institution in the wake of a nearby accident and makes her way to her sister’s house. Shot in 16mm b&w with a decent sense of composition and intent (by Jarmusch, playing DP here), the story is told primarily through the voice-over thoughts of our protagonist, Ethel, as she wanders through these events with an otherworldly disassociation. Very much in the No Wave vein, this felt like equal parts Permanent Vacation and the “Mirror, Father, Mirror” art film parody from Ghost World, skating a fine edge between laughable and profound. What it does well is present a portrait of mental illness with a degree of self-awareness, as Ethel’s narration proves that she sees the fear and condescension of those around her, especially her sister. This also works against the film a bit too, as Ethel’s self-awareness then makes her responses more puzzling and makes her character more self-absorbed.

Spoiler

I guess the ending reversal is supposed to be a bit of an art-house gotcha, where we understand the two sisters are basically the same, though one is deemed mentally handicapped and the other not.

It didn’t strike me as a particularly profound choice, though I understand this is based on an existing short story and (from reading the synopsis) looks to have stuck pretty closely.

Yojimbo wrote:

tavernier wrote:The Australian DVD of Iceman is anamorphic 2.35....too bad the Aussie disc of Barbarosa is P&S.

Is Barbarosa available anywhere in a non P&S version?
I'd certainly like to add it to my collection, if so.

The UK disc released by Arrow was correctly framed and anamorphically enhanced, but is now out of print.

antnield wrote:

Yojimbo wrote:

tavernier wrote:The Australian DVD of Iceman is anamorphic 2.35....too bad the Aussie disc of Barbarosa is P&S.

Is Barbarosa available anywhere in a non P&S version?
I'd certainly like to add it to my collection, if so.

The UK disc released by Arrow was correctly framed and anamorphically enhanced, but is now out of print.

Thanks
I'll keep an eye on Amazon marketplace, so

I see 'Comfort and Joy' is on BBC Two tonight
Anybody seen it?

I loved 'Gregory's Girl'; was less enthused about 'Local Hero'. His 'Housekeeping' was a decent effort, and something of a departure.

life_boy wrote: All in all, a fascinating movie that continues to grow on me the more I think about it. And that final shot is a stunner.

I think it's one of Godard's best late period films and with Detective will be the two Godards to make my list this decade. Like you say, its greatness grows in one's memory. And I think even if one hated the film it'd be worth sitting through the whole thing just for the amazing ending! I read an interesting critical article many years ago in a book comparing Godard to Bertolucci that focused a lot on this film with regards to the filmmakers' fixation on anal sex here and elsewhere that's worth tracking down

EDIT: A cursory search on Amazon indicates it must be from The Radical Faces of Godard and Bertolucci, which is available for all of $2 used

domino harvey wrote:To Live and Die in LA (William Friedkin 1985) I seem to recall reading a lot of re-evaluative praise for this film here (though it's an impossible film to search for!), but I can't imagine why. I went in expecting to at least be entertained and the film couldn't even deliver that. This is one of the most cliched, thunderingly stupid action movies I've ever seen, filled to the brim with predictable machinations and a nihilistic finish that's lost any kick it once had from sustained exposure to dozens of films who did the same thing better in the interim. This is a movie that opens with a middle eastern man revealing dynamite strapped to his chest and loudly declaring upon being discovered, "I want to be a martyr!"-- and about five minutes later we literally get a "Three days til retirement" scene. And so on. But, if you ever wanted to see William Petersen and Ira from Mad About You as dirtbag secret service members, clearly this is the film for you. One of the worst movies I've seen since being released from the cold, dead grip of the Alt Best Picture List.

I find it quite ironic you didn't like this since Michael Mann sued Friedkin briefly for allegedly plagiarizing Miami Vice. Apparently it was dropped quickly, and William and Michael have remained friends. I have to say I didn't like it much either. Besides the reasons stated, it might also have the most 80's-soundtrack ever (and not in a good way) by Wang Chung. Pretty sure I did a double take when I saw that they did the whole music and my enthusiasm kind of dipped.

My firs viewing log of the project is not a happy one:

The Annunciation (András Jeles, 1984): I watched this since it was Domino's spotlight, but I must admit to having mixed feelings about it. To recount, the film tells the history of mankind, starting with its origins and ending up in 19th century London. The plot relies heavily on the mythical side of humanity, by beginning with Adam and Eve, and having a cherubic Satan reappear throughout the film. Despite the fact that there is some truly gorgeous imagery in here, it was undercut by the barely watchable quality of the Youtube rip. I can't speak for the original play, but the film film has all of the parts played by children. I certainly agree with Domino that Jeles's use of child actors wasn't in Bugsy Malone territory, but I foundd the gimmick to be both unnecessary and distracting from the film's lyricism. I'd be willing to give it another try if a version with a better picture quality ever comes out. The Youtube comments for it live up to the sites reputation.

Candy Mountain (Robert Frank and Rudy Wurlitzer, 1988): A pair of interesting filmmakers teamed up for this picaresque adventure that never feels like anything more than the sum of its parts. Kevin J. O'Connor stars as Julius, a failed musician who is hired to find Elmore Silk, a fabled guitar maker, and convince him to sell it. Most of the film follow Julius as he travels around, trying to catch up with Silk, but mainly meeting people who have already left his life. Both Joe Strummer and Tom Waits make appearances, adding to the film's rock credentials, but somehow the story never gelled for me. It's an interesting set up, but the execution never quite felt right. I have to recommend passing.

The Eighties (Chantal Akerman, 1983): I'm a huge fan of Akerman's 70s output (particularly the underrated Je, tu, il, elle), but this was my first exposure to her work from this decade. It's a very different take on the notion of repetitiveness that she so masterfully used in Jeanne Dielman. This time the action takes place at auditions for a play. Numerous actresses read over the same lines, with only the non-repetitive material coming at the end. Like Jeanne Dielman, certain scenes felt like a chore to watch, but the payoff at the end always rewarded the viewer's patience. It's by no means one of Akerman's better films, but it is enough for a tepid recommendation.

Galaxy of Terror (Bruce D. Clark, 1981): Dipping into the Roger Corman archives is always a risky proposition. Sometimes you come up with a real gem, but most of the time it's complete garbage. Unfortunately, you'll come up unlucky if you decide to watch this horror in space piece of shit. The story begins with a space crew (consisting of an eclectic cast including Zalman King, Ray Watson, Erin Moran, Sid Haig, and Robert Englund) on a rescue mission who find a mysterious pyramid at a crash site. One by one they get killed (including Haig by his own severed arm!) by manifestations of their own deepest fears (one wonders how whether Michael Crichton stole the idea for Sphere from here) until something more incomprehensible than the previous 75 minutes happen. I can appreciate that Clark, Corman, and James Cameron did what they could on a limited budget, but the effects often look cheap and the dialogue terrible. Even worse, the film just doesn't make any sense. Things happen without explanation or even any attempt to rationalize them. Just awful.

High Tide (Gillian Armstrong, 1987): Judy Davis stars as an absentee mother who accidentally stumbles back into her biological daughter's life by complete accident. Lillie (Davis) sings background in an Elvis impersonator's stage act, but dreams of a more fulfilling career. This gig takes her back to the town where she once put her infant daughter up for adoption after her husband's unexpected death. Unbeknownst to either of them, her new teenage friend Ally (Claudia Karvan) is actually that daughter. This intimate family drama has a lot going for it, but I rarely found it too enthralling. I could go either way on this one, but I'll give it a very mild recommendation based on the strength of Davis's performance.

The Kill-Off (Maggie Greenwald, 1989): An ensemble cast stars in this neo-noir about a small New Jersey town with long buried secrets, and one woman who threatens to bring them to light. Everything and everyone here is so grimy that it makes it a singularly unpleasant watching experience. I suppose that Greenwald had something like this in mind when she made it, but there is no one here to identify with or to root for. No good choices are made by anyone, and it just gives off a nasty vibe. It's competently made, but I don't think that I'd ever be tempted to rewatch it.

Permanent Vacation (Jim Jarmusch, 1980): Jim Jarmusch has always been a hit or miss director to me, and most of his 80s work has failed to connect with me. Sadly, the same can be said with this, his 1980 debut. The film consists of a series of vignettes following Allie (Chris Parker) doing pretty much nothing around the streets of New York. There are some entertaining exchanges here between Allie and those he meets, but it never coalesced into anything that I found meaningful. I'd again recommend skipping it.

bamwc2 wrote:
The Kill-Off (Maggie Greenwald, 1989): An ensemble cast stars in this neo-noir about a small New Jersey town with long buried secrets, and one woman who threatens to bring them to light. Everything and everyone here is so grimy that it makes it a singularly unpleasant watching experience. I suppose that Greenwald had something like this in mind when she made it, but there is no one here to identify with or to root for. No good choices are made by anyone, and it just gives off a nasty vibe. It's competently made, but I don't think that I'd ever be tempted to rewatch it.

That's Jim Thompson; and I thought she nailed it, despite obvious budget restrictions.
Or maybe, because of; the big-budget Hollywood Thompson adaptations look far too slick and polished for my tastes

If you're interested, arguably the best Thompson adaptation - Bertrand Tavernier's 'Coup de torchon' - is a 1981 film
(I see the second-best - Alain Corneau's 'Serie Noire' - somehow eluded my 70's shortlist)

Yojimbo wrote:If you're interested, arguably the best Thompson adaptation - Bertrand Tavernier's 'Coup de torchon' - is a 1981 film
(I see the second-best - Alain Corneau's 'Serie Noire' - somehow eluded my 70's shortlist)

Yojimbo, thanks! I hadn't realized that both films came from the same source. For what it's worth I find Coup de torchon to be a masterpiece. It's a lock for a high spot on my list and was almost one of my spotlights.

domino harvey wrote:the Great Mouse Detective (Ron Clements / Burny Mattinson / Dave Michener / John Musker 1986)

To Live and Die in LA (William Friedkin 1985)

Year of the Dragon (Michael Cimino 1985)

This was my favorite Disney as a kid, but I don't think I've seen it once since. Might have to make it a priority.

I'll largely agree with your complaints on TLaDiLA, but not your assessment. I really think the movie comes down to how much you feel Friedkin subverts macho cop cliches in the second-half. I think someone on this forum described it as the film where the rogue cop is actually portrayed as the destructive asshole they would be in real life. But, yeah, the first half is cliche city: the scene that always irked me was John Turturro convincing Petersen to let him see his sick mother, which along with being obvious is a complete lapse in characterization.

Also, I don't like the Wang Chung soundtrack. It's charmingly nostalgic on its own, but after how well Friedkin used NY music in Cruising (anachronistically, mind you), I always personally felt he overlooked a similar chance to dive in the L.A. music scene of the era.

Speaking of which, I think Cruising is his masterpiece, so if you want to open that can of worms, give it a go.

As for Year of the Dragon: this is a movie where I typically agree with most of the complaints, but feel that people underrate everything else going on. Cimino has called it a sequel to The Deer Hunter, and its his "war comes home" film, with Stanley White trying to continue the war in Chinatown. The film is even partly modeled on The Big Heat, and like Friedkin, it's another hero cop-as-asshole film. The main problem and the main point of interest is that despite his seemingly overt goal - dissect a certain type of Veteran who can't let go of the war - he can't help but be seduced by much of the very characteristics that make him dangerous - namely, his inability to compromise. I always thought the Cimino was channeling some of his own martyr-complex post-Heaven's Gate into the film.

It's an incoherent text, undoubtedly confused and at times outright misguided. Much of one's pleasure, I imagine, is going to come from not overlooking the flaws, but being able to find them as interesting as the thing the film does right. The film's relationship to the Chinese residents is a major flaw: on one hand, the film seems to be sympathetic to the historical plight of Chinese in America, on the other, if often lapses into the same racist hysteria as Stanley White due to lack of any real counterpoint. For better or worse, the film completely adopts White's point of view in regard to Chinatown: a community that it's completely shut out from, forcing him to view it from the outside in with as much fascination as suspicion. The supposed last line the studio forced him to cut: "I guess if you fight a war long enough, you end up marrying the enemy."

I have some problems with Stone's script: it's verbose and hard-boiled and heavy-handed at many times, losing the ambitious musical-like structures of repetition-variation-contrast that made Cimino's own screenplays for The Deer Hunter and Heaven's Gate so fascinating. Nevertheless, it's built on contrasts. White's immigrant experience as opposed to Joey Tai. Joey Tai's Chinese-ness as opposed to Tracy Tzu. This is also built in its choice of architecture. White's street-level home is contrasted against Tzu's penthouse porn, just as that penthouse is played against the Chinatown it overlooks and is removed from, personified by that basement soy factory. And I don't think it's any mistake the finale takes place on railroad tracks, although I'm not sure what sort of symbol for the Chinese experience you can read there considering it's another moment of conquest. There's other interplays like this throughout the film which hints at the way Cimino might have developed the film had he the chance to write it himself.

Nevertheless, while clearly too young - if you stretch logic, you can maybe fit him into the role, granted his character went to Vietnam the absolute moment he was of age - Mickey Rourke has never been better. John Lone, I always thought should have been a huge star, and this is one of the reasons. The action is top-notch, swift, unexpected and unglamorized.

As for Ariane, yeah, she's not good, but after seeing the film several times I can't help but find her absolutely enchanting. I totally understand now why she was cast. She's was the right person for the role, she just unfortunately got the wrong direction. Despite her best efforts, she's a non-actress, and non-actors need to be unchained from the script and given room to breathe. I don't think Cimino was able to do that here. Whether it was his perfectionism giving way to a lack of perspective, or whether he was just cocky after lucking out with Chuck Aspergen in DH, he didn't do what he should have here. Which is too bad, as she lacked talent, she certainly had a quality to her. Certainly, nobody's going to knock her reporter-voice . And the shot of her silhouette walking through the penthouse at dawn is one of the most beautiful shots in all the decade, a clear reminder that, yes, this was the guy responsible for Heaven's Gate

Nonetheless, I'll recommend the equally confused The Sicilian if you can track down the director's cut in AR. While I love Thunderbolt and Lightfoot, and like his two later films, it's always been these four- from Deer Hunter to The Sicilian - that to me form a consistent whole when it comes to Cimino the auteur.

life_boy wrote:The Territory (Raúl Ruiz, 1981)

You Are Not I (Sara Driver, 1981)

Ah, the infamous Ruiz-Corman film. Famous as the source for Wender's The State of Things, who visited the set.

As for Sara Driver: I don't know that the "No Wave" assessment is off, as she was part of that milieu, and if you don't know, she's essentially Mrs. Jim Jarmusch and I imagine quite a bit responsible for that sensibility in his films. Sleepwalk to me is the film to vote for, and it teams her up with another famous significant other/silent artistic partner: Kathleen Brennan, aka Mrs. Tom Waits.

bamwc2 wrote:

Yojimbo wrote:If you're interested, arguably the best Thompson adaptation - Bertrand Tavernier's 'Coup de torchon' - is a 1981 film
(I see the second-best - Alain Corneau's 'Serie Noire' - somehow eluded my 70's shortlist)

Yojimbo, thanks! I hadn't realized that both films came from the same source. For what it's worth I find Coup de torchon to be a masterpiece. It's a lock for a high spot on my list and was almost one of my spotlights.

This is an extremely early recommendation for the 90s list but since we are on the subject of Jim Thompson one of the more overlooked adaptations of one of his novels was the excellent After Dark, My Sweet.

Cold Bishop wrote: As for Sara Driver: I don't know that the "No Wave" assessment is off, as she was part of that milieu, and if you don't know, she's essentially Mrs. Jim Jarmusch and I imagine quite a bit responsible for that sensibility in his films. Sleepwalk to me is the film to vote for, and it teams her up with another famous significant other/silent artistic partner: Kathleen Brennan, aka Mrs. Tom Waits.

As a work around ay to reference my spotlight again Ms. Amos Poe is perhaps more accurate.

life_boy wrote: The Territory (Raúl Ruiz, 1981)I found myself frustrated by their stupidity, especially the fact that they could have

Spoiler

simply followed the road when they found it.

This is essentially the same thing as complaining that the guests in The Exterminating Angel don't just walk out of the dining room the way they came in.

I agree that the acting in the film is terrible, but I'd say that becomes less and less of a problem as the film progresses.

bamwc2 wrote: Yojimbo, thanks! I hadn't realized that both films came from the same source. For what it's worth I find Coup de torchon to be a masterpiece. It's a lock for a high spot on my list and was almost one of my spotlights.

The source novel - Pop.1280 - is Thompson's Masterpiece, also
And Tavernier filmed a fascinating alternate ending, which is on the Criterion edition.

zedz wrote:I agree that the acting in the film is terrible, but I'd say that becomes less and less of a problem as the film progresses.

I'd say it even becomes a boon: the "Barbara! Barbara!" scene is one of my favorite bits of extended hysteria on film, and the epilogue just wouldn't be the same without the soap-opera artificiality of the performances.

Yeah, it does seem like he's doing a Vampyr and utilizing a lack of talent to create a more full mood.

Billionaire Boys Club (Marvin J Chomsky 1987) Well, even though my overall response to the film was in the shrug realm, I am thankful for the rec, as I definitely would never have seen this without a push and it did have some interesting parallels to some of the other movies I've seen lately for this project. This film's depiction of the youthful empty-headedness of greed seems far more well-observed and earned than Wall Street's phony moralizing, for one. Judd Nelson does good work as the lead rich kid who comes up with schemes to defraud other rich people and eventually murder those who can best deliver a lump sum of their assets to cover his own ass. The biggest problem here is the length, though: while the 80s and 90s were where the miniseries boom found its greatest success before fading away from network events to the occasional cameo on basic cable channels, this material, as interesting as it is, is stretched too thin over the three-plus hours this miniseries runs without commercials. Though the film's not especially clever or well-written, Nelson does have one funny line delivered in the middle of a cheerfully nonplussed murder planning: (Said with positive sincerity) "I'll check the library on torture procedures. You can find anything at the library!" More moments like that and this would be more than what it is: A competent true crime movie(s) of the week.

Going Berserk (David Steinberg 1983) Released the same year as the quasi-official SCTV movie, Strange Brew, this concoction features John Candy, Joe Flaherty, and Eugene Levy in the leads but doesn't bring the great comic wit or attention to detail that made their show such a groundbreaking work of comedic art. Instead we get a lame and convoluted plot about a self help cult who wants to assassinate a potential presidential candidate via his soon-to-be son-in-law, Candy. A target this broad doesn't allow for much in the way of honed satiric targets, and other than a few errant chuckles here and there, only one moment shows any hint at the potential for comic heights on par with the series: In a borderline non-sequiter sequence, we're treated to a 1950s squeaky-clean sitcom wherein the Father Knows Best-type in the lead is actually a physically and verbally abusive asshole, with every act of aggression underscored by dead studio audience laughter. If this sounds familiar, it's because eleven years later Natural Born Killers lifted the entire sequence wholesale to far greater acclaim in the process. So I'm sure QT loved this movie, especially since it's not very good!

the Great Outdoors (Howard Deutch 1988) Director Deutch sweeps up screenwriter John Hughes' table scraps again with this pitiful excuse for a family film. I will freely admit to loving this as a kid, but this is one childhood favorite that doesn't hold up well to adult eyes. I guess finding a bear getting shot in the butt with a shotgun lamp is the kind of thing you need to be five or six years old to truly appreciate. But oh man, Annette Bening is in this too as Dan Ackroyd's one note wife, and I bet she'd wish that stayed secret!

Uncle Buck (John Hughes 1989) And here's the flipside of the risk of revisitation: I found this as charming as ever, with one of John Candy's best and warmest performances as the titular figure, who kind of Dirty Harry-lites his way through being an impromptu dad for a couple of cute kids and a sullen teenager. Certainly this was the only one of the three Candy films in the Universal star set that delivered on the promised "Hilarity!" I think it's on the higher end of the John Hughes' directorial output as well, with a nice balance of fantastical flights of fancy, dirty jokes, family togetherness, and little well-observed moments like the bowling alley lech getting his toothpick stuck in his mouth to draw everything together into a neat little package. Maybe I was just in the right mood to be susceptible to this film's brand of heart-string-tugging, but it worked, and I laughed out loud a lot more than I expected going in.

domino harvey wrote:Billionaire Boys Club (Marvin J Chomsky 1987) Well, even though my overall response to the film was in the shrug realm, I am thankful for the rec, as I definitely would never have seen this without a push and it did have some interesting parallels to some of the other movies I've seen lately for this project. This film's depiction of the youthful empty-headedness of greed seems far more well-observed and earned than Wall Street's phony moralizing, for one. Judd Nelson does good work as the lead rich kid who comes up with schemes to defraud other rich people and eventually murder those who can best deliver a lump sum of their assets to cover his own ass. The biggest problem here is the length, though: while the 80s and 90s were where the miniseries boom found its greatest success before fading away from network events to the occasional cameo on basic cable channels, this material, as interesting as it is, is stretched too thin over the three-plus hours this miniseries runs without commercials. Though the film's not especially clever or well-written, Nelson does have one funny line delivered in the middle of a cheerfully nonplussed murder planning: (Said with positive sincerity) "I'll check the library on torture procedures. You can find anything at the library!" More moments like that and this would be more than what it is: A competent true crime movie(s) of the week.

Good spot, Dom. What I'll always remember - quite apart from Judd's flaring nostrils, of course - is his character's obsessive thoroughness in planning the crimes; a thoroughness which extended to keeping detailed to-do lists. I think that ultimately the recovery of one of those lists at the scene of a crime helped to nail him, as I recall.

...speaking of John Candy, do you know that he had a small - and not entirely unmemorable role - in cult Canadian crime movie, 'The Silent Partner' - which starred Elliott Gould and Christopher Plummer

Yojimbo wrote:Good spot, Dom. What I'll always remember - quite apart from Judd's flaring nostrils, of course - is his character's obsessive thoroughness in planning the crimes; a thoroughness which extended to keeping detailed to-do lists. I think that ultimately the recovery of one of those lists at the scene of a crime helped to nail him, as I recall.

Yes, and one other darkly funny moment from the film concerns one of the items on his To Do List:

Spoiler

Kill the dog of their shakedown target. During a casual conversation with one of his buddies afterwards, Nelson is asked whether they had to kill the dog and he laughs and says the Ron Silver character was too scared for it to ever get that far and then lets it casually drop that he and his associate killed Silver! Oh, and the great irony that Silver didn't have enough money in his account to cover the check they forced him to write before killing him: "He scammed me twice!"

Just writing these makes me smile-- I can see how looking back can make this film can seem better than it really is!

domino harvey wrote:

Yojimbo wrote:Good spot, Dom. What I'll always remember - quite apart from Judd's flaring nostrils, of course - is his character's obsessive thoroughness in planning the crimes; a thoroughness which extended to keeping detailed to-do lists. I think that ultimately the recovery of one of those lists at the scene of a crime helped to nail him, as I recall.

Yes, and one other darkly funny moment from the film concerns one of the items on his To Do List:

Spoiler

Kill the dog of their shakedown target. During a casual conversation with one of his buddies afterwards, Nelson is asked whether they had to kill the dog and he laughs and says the Ron Silver character was too scared for it to ever get that far and then lets it casually drop that he and his associate killed Silver! Oh, and the great irony that Silver didn't have enough money in his account to cover the check they forced him to write before killing him: "He scammed me twice!"

Just writing these makes me smile-- I can see how looking back can make this film can seem better than it really is!

Yeah, and it's funny - not funny, ha ha; more like Joe Pesci-funny - the kind of things that irritate people; especially the criminal 'element'

Eureka (Nicolas Roeg 1983) A film so stunningly bad in such a vibrantly weird way that I am sure there are people with normally perceptive taste who will argue it is a work of brilliance or art. I don't think so. I am familiar with Roeg and enjoy a great many of his films, but this is what happens when a filmmaker crawls so far up his own ass and everyone else just goes with it instead of working to make all the disparate elements work. Over the top theatrics and annoyingly gimmicky graphic violence, silly editing with none of the power of Roeg's typically keen style, broad performances from actors who know better, and plenty of superfluous shots of Roeg's then-wife Theresa Russell fully nude. Yep, it all sounds like some crazy person's cup of tea-- and their defense is no doubt a subtle variation of my argument against it!

the Falcon and the Snowman (John Schlesinger 1985) Lowkey portrayal of a laissez-faire traitor who sold CIA secrets to the Russians because he wasn't mature enough to know better. There's a nice parallel to be drawn here to all the modern super-liberal Millennials who attack every non-PC aspect of life with the same scorched earth mentality that brought down Timothy Hutton's character, so the film still has some cachet left in it. The MVP here is of course Sean Penn. Even if Penn's perf is uneven and his wacky vocal inflections come and go, he gets the desperation of a born loser down pat, and provides a much needed reminder to never, ever go into business with a drug dealer, even if you did sing in the choir together!

Rich and Famous (George Cukor 1981) Cukor's final bow is neither an embarrassment or a triumph, which makes it a fitting end for a director who was capable of highs and lows of equal power. I admired the film's attempts to bring a woman's perspective to the material (Cukor is of course nothing if not an expert teller of women's pictures) with the May-December romances finally tipping towards the young end on the male side, and Cukor certainly knows how to film his hunks! Unbelievably, despite having seen her in my share of wooden roles, this is now another film where I must unexpectedly praise Candice Bergen's comedic chops (I liked her as Murphy Brown, but that was hardly a challenging role), as her over the top southern hack author is a hoot, and she seems to be the only one in the film who understands the required tone (Sorry Jacqueline Bisset). I still have the Davis/Hopkins original in the unwatched delta, so I don't know how this remake compares, but hey, we know Almodovar likes it!

Tell Me a Riddle (Lee Grant 1980) One good thing about leaving behind American cinema of the 70s is wispy little bits of nothing like this come up with less frequency, and while this sketch about Melvyn Douglas carting his dying wife around is a competently made film, it is so slight and unremarkable that perhaps the only distinction it has is as one of the last Warner Brothers titles to be released pressed before they went full-Archives. Gee, hard to believe this didn't deliver the sales needed to stave off the tide against pressed digital media!

X Ray AKA Hospital Massacre (Boaz Davidson 1982) By my count this is the 80th slasher I've seen from this decade (and that bodycount will only go up as I work my way through the unwatched stacks) and even by the pretty low standards of this genre, this is a total failure. It's not even the third best hospital-set slasher, and that's about as specific as these kind of distinctions can get! What a shame that Shout Factory rescued this from the VHS shelves over countless other superior examples. The film itself is so mediocre and safe that it seems pre-edited for USA Up All Night, with mild, mostly unseen killings and one piece of gratuitous nudity courtesy of the Playboy Playmate occupying the lead that could be easily excised for TV airing. The whole film, in fact, could be easily excised. Two closing thoughts: 01, This film takes place in possibly the only hospital in existence to have never heard of fluorescent lights, or indoor lighting in general. 02, For some reason every time the murderer executes one of his PG killings, the soundtrack turns itself over to some singers chanting "He sees you, he sees you" so hurriedly that it starts to sound like "Little Caesars, Little Caesars." And that was the only interesting thing that happened in 89 minutes!

Honestly I really love Rich and Famous. It's totally absurd as a melodrama and like you say the performances are definitely pitched in an interesting direction, but somehow I find it all to work even if that means that some of Cuckor's most enjoyable work is mixed in with some of his most bizarre. At the very least it is never boring.

domino harvey wrote:Eureka (Nicolas Roeg 1983) A film so stunningly bad in such a vibrantly weird way that I am sure there are people with normally perceptive taste who will argue it is a work of brilliance or art. I don't think so. I am familiar with Roeg and enjoy a great many of his films, but this is what happens when a filmmaker crawls so far up his own ass and everyone else just goes with it instead of working to make all the disparate elements work. Over the top theatrics and annoyingly gimmicky graphic violence, silly editing with none of the power of Roeg's typically keen style, broad performances from actors who know better, and plenty of superfluous shots of Roeg's then-wife Theresa Russell fully nude. Yep, it all sounds like some crazy person's cup of tea-- and their defense is no doubt a subtle variation of my argument against it!

the Falcon and the Snowman (John Schlesinger 1985) Lowkey portrayal of a laissez-faire traitor who sold CIA secrets to the Russians because he wasn't mature enough to know better. There's a nice parallel to be drawn here to all the modern super-liberal Millennials who attack every non-PC aspect of life with the same scorched earth mentality that brought down Timothy Hutton's character, so the film still has some cachet left in it. The MVP here is of course Sean Penn. Even if Penn's perf is uneven and his wacky vocal inflections come and go, he gets the desperation of a born loser down pat, and provides a much needed reminder to never, ever go into business with a drug dealer, even if you did sing in the choir together!

If you hated Eureka (Nicolas Roeg 1983) so much, make sure you don't bother with his 'Insignificance' or the truly awful, 'Track 29', Dom.
Wife, Theresa Russell, was brilliant in 'Bad Timing', Roeg's last decent picture - at least I stopped even looking after 'Track 29' - but I think his mistake was to make her even more a centre of his film universe.
He should never have let her cut his hair!

Sean Penn is brilliant in the Falcon and the Snowman (John Schlesinger 1985); maybe the only reason to watch it. But that's not a strong enough reason to include it in my 50