It’s been a while since I commented on movies I’ve seen
recently; binge-watching The Shield
has taken up most of our TV viewing time. But, we have seen a handful, and I’m
stuck for a blog post today, so here goes.
Pain & Gain. Didn’t
know what to expect, adding this to the Netflix queue on a recommendation, and
was pleasantly surprised. Mark Wahlberg and Dwayne Johnson play a pair of
muscleheads who lust after The American Dream™ (no, not Dusty Rhodes) and
decide to get it by kidnapping millionaire Tony Shalhoub. Loosely based on a
true story, this is a comic noir of half-baked ideas and half-assed execution.
The kidnappers lack discipline, experience, and a clue, and things go as badly
as one might expect. Director Michael Bay plays it for laughs and gets the tone
just right. (Yes, that Michael Bay. Thus might be my favorite movie of his.)
Lots of fun. Wahlberg and Johnson are well cast; Shalhoub is as good as always.
Ed Harris makes a cameo appearance, and, as usual, is as good as it gets. Not a
timeless classic, but a couple of hours of off-kilter fun.
Ride the High Country.
George Pelecanos got to program an evening of Turner Classic movies; this
was one of his picks. (I hope to get to them all.) Randolph Scott and Joel
McCrae play a pair of over-the-hill lawmen who team up to guard a gold shipment
from the wildcat miners to the bank. Unknown to straight-arrow McCrae, Scott
and his young sidekick plan to steal the gold. The kid falls for a farmer’s
daughter (Mariette Hartley in her first role), and things go bad at the camp,
leading to a hazardous trip down the mountain where you don’t know who to
trust. The two old pros play it out to the end in a movie that could have been
cliché-ridden but instead gives a new look that presages the new wave of
Westerns Clint Eastwood was about to start. Directed by Sam Peckinpah, and
hints of where he’ll go with The Wild
Bunch are evident. Far better than I expected from a 1962-vintage Western.
American Hustle.
Meh. Lots of good bits that didn’t add up to as much as they could have. Too
long, and I have an impression the original cut was even longer. (The
voice-over near the beginning jammed exposition down your throat like a
freshman composition major summarizing Genesis.) The director seemed to want to
make a Scorsese picture, and only Scorsese should try that. (Not even him,
sometimes.) Christian Bale was good, though he often seemed to be doing an Al
Pacino impression, which made me think of how much better Pacino would have
been when he was the appropriate age. The women carry the movie; Jennifer
Lawrence steals all her scenes, in a good way. Louis CK was perfectly cast. Not
a waste of time, but not something that deserved bumping to the top of the
queue. (As we did.)
The Seven-Ups.
Another of Pelecanos’s picks. In the style of the French Connection (directed by French
Connection’s producer, Philip D’Antoni), Roy Scheider leads a team of cops
that investigates only crimes with a penalty of at least seven years. His
snitch (Tony LoBianco) is playing both ends against the middle. Lots to like,
but it never grips you like The French
Connection. Not only does the whole not exceed the sum of its parts, it
doesn’t quite equal it. Best car chase ever though, covering more ground, units
coming and going, and all doing stuff cars can actually do. No jumping or
flying or rolling and continuing to run or shit like that. Just serious
driving, well photographed. (For those who wish to cut to the chase, here it is. The cop in
the trunk is Ken Kercheval, who would go on to play Cliff Barnes in Dallas.)
Monte Walsh (1970)
I
saw this a few years ago and liked it at least as much this time. A story
that doesn’t try to be any more than what it is, an aging cowboy coming to
grips with the end of an era and his place in the world, seeing his
opportunities evaporate. Lee Marvin strikes the right balance of a man who understands
he’s missed some chances because he realized too late his time has passed but
never feels sorry for himself. The most entertaining scene is still when he
breaks the bronco and ruins a town in the process—I do have to wonder where the
hell everyone is while he’s wrecking the joint—but the point of the movie comes
a few minutes later when he turns down a job for more money than he’s ever made
because, “I ain't gonna spit on my whole life.” Nothing flashy but a first-rate
film on many levels.
