The other day, my good friend and fellow writer Frank Zafiro sent a newsletter titled, “Why Do We Rewatch the Same Shows?”
Tuesday, June 30, 2026
Why I Re-Watch Things (Hat tip to Frank Zafiro)
Thursday, March 9, 2023
My Favorite Westerns
A few weeks ago I listed my favorite crime movies, films that I never grow tired of while seeing something new each time. That got such a nice response (especially on Facebook), I decided to do it again, this time with Westerns.
Here are the criteria I set out in January for the crime
films:
1. I have to like the movie.
2. It has to bear up under repeated viewings.
With that in mind, here are my personal prejudices:
I don’t generally care for what I call “good haircut”
Westerns. The American West was a grungy place; there’s a high bar to clear if
everyone looks too well groomed. One movie listed cleared that bar; a few
others have questionable grooming, but make up for it elsewhere.
I’m also not crazy about movies that perpetuate the myth of
The West. More than a few of the problems we have today can be traced to what
people think actually happened back then. The last thing I want to see is
something that reinforces that. Again, a couple of those listed do that in
their own way, but they’re so good I get over it.
Here's the list. As before, it’s in chronological order, so
no valuation is implied.
Shane (1953)
The quintessential “mysterious stranger rides into town,
does what has to be done, and leaves” film. Alan Ladd was short, but he was
badass. His minimalist speech is not the affectation of the stereotypical laconic
cowhand; it’s the language of a man who does not intend to repeat himself. Van
Heflin and Jean Arthur are perfect as the homesteaders, and Jack Palance sets
the standard for hired guns.
The Professionals (1966)
Another classic Western plot: rich man (Ralph Bellamy) hires
four mercenaries (Burt Lancaster, Lee Marvin, Robert Ryan, and Woody Strode) to
get back his age-inappropriate wife (Claudia Cardinale) who has been kidnapped
by a Mexican bandit (Jack Palance). Things aren’t quite what they appear,
though the mercenaries make sure justice is done. The stars have a ball working
with each other (Editor’s Note: Woody Strode was born 30 years too early or he
would have been a big star himself), the sets are appropriately grimy, and the
right note is touched in every scene. Has what might be the greatest closing
line in Western history.
[Name redacted to avoid spoiler]: You bastard.
[Name redacted to avoid spoiler]: In my case, an accident of
birth. You, sir, are a self-made man.
Hombre (1967)
Maybe Elmore Leonard’s best novel, and quite possibly the
best Western ever. Paul Newman plays John Russell, a white man captured by Apaches
as a child and raised on a reservation, who inherits his white foster father’s
boarding house. That sets up a stagecoach trip with Russell and a motley band
that leads to not only a tense and well-crafted plot, but can provoke long
discussions about what people owe each other. Richard Boone cements his place
as one of the all-time bad guys, and Frank Silvera as the vaquero
creates a minor role that lives forever.
The Wild Bunch (1969)
Westerns could never be the same after The Wild Bunch.
Sam Peckinpah’s hyperviolent (for the time) ode to the closing of the
frontier is, in its way, a buddy movie. What each member of the gang feels he
owes the others eventually takes control of the film, as they understand their day
is ending and decide to meet it on their own terms.
The Outlaw Josie Wales (1976)
Interesting that a film released in the year of the American
bicentennial takes such an uncompromising and harsh look at the nation’s
history. Clint Eastwood’s breakout film as a director, he also plays Josie, who
wanted nothing more than to go home after the Civil War until a Union officer
betrays his men at their surrender and murders Wales’s family. Revenge is
delayed as Wales accumulates a ragtag band of followers that provide detail of
actual life on the frontier while the revenge story plays out.
Unforgiven (1992)
Eastwood again, deconstructing more of the Western myth.
This time he’s a reformed gunman turned farmer who needs money so desperately
he accepts an invitation to kill a couple of men who disfigured a whore. Morgan
Freeman is his partner, and Gene Hackman was never better than as Little Bill
Daggett, the local sheriff who has many admirable qualities, though not enough
to offset his darker nature. The scene where Little Bill tells a journalist
(Saul Rubinek) how English Bob (Richard Harris) truly earned his reputation as
a gunfighter should be required viewing for those who still subscribe to The
Myth.
Tombstone (1993)
Yes, it’s a myth perpetuator, but it makes the list for four
reasons:
1. Wyatt Earp is not portrayed as the classic white hat good
guy.
2. The gunfight at the OK Corral is as well-done and likely
realistic as has ever been filmed (though that scene in Wyatt Earp is
also excellent).
3. Val Kilmer as Doc Holliday.
4. It’s just so damn much fun to watch, primarily due to Val
Kilmer as Doc Holliday.
Open Range (2003)
Robert Duvall and Kevin Costner star as the last of the open
range cattle operations, matched against a ruthless English transplant who’ll
draw no line in his efforts to put them in what he considers to be their
places. Lots of good subtext here with the competing ranch operations as well
as a look at PTSD in the post-Civil War era.
Appaloosa (2008)
Ed Harris wrote the screenplay, directed, and stars in this
adaptation of the first of Robert B. Parker’s Cole and Hitch Westerns. Viggo
Mortensen is excellent as Hitch, and Harris and co-screenwriter Robert Knott were
smart to leave Parker’s dialog as intact as possible. In some ways it’s Spenser
and Hawk in the Old West with even harder edges, but the plot and byplay make
this one that bears up under repeated watching. My only quibble is that I have
a hard time believing a man such as Virgil Cole would fall so hard for Renee
Zellweger. Diane Lane was originally cast in Zellweger’s role; her and Cole I
could understand.
True Grit (2010)
I get that the 1969 version is very good, maybe even John
Wayne’s best. I’ll even go so far as to say he earned his lifetime achievement
acting Oscar for his portrayal of Rooster Cogburn; Robert Duvall as Ned Pepper
is tough to beat, too. Then again, Jeff Bridges is better than The Duke, Barry
Pepper is no slouch, and let’s not even try to compare Matt Damon and Glen
Campbell; Hailee Steinfeld is also more believable as Maddie. The Coen brothers
are far more loyal to the book, and to good effect. Both versions are worth
watching, but if you can see only one, this is the one to watch.
That’s ten, and I’m sure I’ll do an honorable mention list
down the road. That said, there’s one more I can’t bear to leave out of my
personal Pantheon. It doesn’t have the weight some of these others do, but I
love it so much it gets a pass.
Butch Cassidy and The Sundance Kid (1969)
The ultimate buddy movie, which happens to be a Western. As
the beginning states, much of what happens is true. Paul Newman, Robert Redford,
and Katherine Ross are a trio for the ages. I will never get tired of watching
this movie. In fact, if you told me I could only watch one film for the rest of
my life, this might be it. If you gave me five, I guarantee it makes the list.
(People are going to ask about Blazing Saddles. It’s
in the comedy list I’ll do in a while.)
Thursday, March 2, 2023
Art vs. Craft
My friend Benoit Lelieve recently posted a review of the movie Tar on his Dead End Follies blog. My response was that he and I would have to agree to disagree on this one. He loved it; I thought it was three hours of my life I’ll never get back, though it seemed longer.
I’ve read enough of Benoit’s work to know that if we
disagree I should probably take another look to see what I might have missed. Fair
warning: what follows is less a review of Tar than of my thought
processes and sensibilities.
The film is the story of the internationally-renowned
conductor of the Berlin Philharmonic and the tribulations of a career dedicated
to producing art at the highest level. We’ll talk more about that later.
I didn’t hate everything about Tar. An early scene
shows Lydia Tar (Cate Blanchett) running a master class for young composers and
explaining the facts of life to a student who can’t be bothered with Bach,
basically because Bach had too many kids. She explains that he will severely
limit himself as a musician to ignore such a giant of the art, and also tells
him why. She does it in an inexcusably harsh and belittling manner, but her
sentiments are spot on.
I also liked the ending, where she [spoiler redacted].
The production values and acting are outstanding. There was
also a good line where she describes herself as a “U-Haul lesbian.” I laughed
out loud at the reference to Charles Dutoit and the Montreal Symphony, as I
have some inside knowledge of what happened there.
That covers what I liked.
What didn’t I like? Pretty much all the characters,
especially Tar, who is a narcissistic bitch who not only thinks the world revolves
around her, but that this is her due because of her genius. She treats
everyone, including her daughter, hideously, often just because she can get
away with it.
Those around her don’t come off much better, as they’re
either duplicitous, toadies, or objects of sympathy. There’s no one to like in
this movie, and few to even empathize with for more than a minute or two.
Why does this bother me so much? A lot has to do with my
upbringing. I was raised working class. Had an aptitude for music and earned
both Bachelor’s and Master’s degrees, my Master’s from New England Conservatory.
I was good, but not good enough to play at that level. To use a baseball
analogy, I was a solid AA player. I did some things very well, but there were
holes in my swing that prevented me from making The Show. I learned much about
art, but through the prism of working-class craftsmen.
While not all craft is art, there can be no art without
craft. The greatest musicians still routinely practice their scales and other
fundamentals. Artists work on their brush technique. Dancers hit the gym to
keep their bodies tuned. Art results from the mastering of craft combined with
a divine spark one either has or does not, which allows the craft to reach a
level that transcends its origins. Spend enough time with artists of the
highest order and you’ll see this is true.
What breaks my balls about Tar is the multiple layers
of pretentiousness it includes. Lydia presents herself as a servant of art, but
the primary thing we see her do artistically is to have the opening trumpet
solo of Mahler’s Fifth Symphony played offstage. No one wrote more detailed
instructions in their scores than Mahler. If he wanted the trumpet off stage,
he would have said so. He did say so in the First Symphony, where the trumpets
play three fanfares off-stage before joining the rest of the orchestra. The
only purpose moving the trumpet off-stage will serve is to generate critical
buzz regarding Tar’s “brilliance.” (There are also logistical issues I’ll not
go into here.)
The film suffers from much the same pretentiousness. In some
ways it reminded me of The Power of the Dog, where a good story was
crushed beneath the weight of its too obvious efforts to be “artistic,” or,
worse, “important.”
I am not immune to art. While I abhor melodrama that tries
to manipulate my emotions, I am moved by many books, movies, and music. The art
must be organic, springing naturally and without effort from the mastering of
the craft, something that rests transparently on the spirit that gives it rise.
(Props to Kierkegaard via David Milch for teaching me that.) A presumed artist
can no more force art into a project than he or she can decide to be taller.
Lifts can be added to their shoes, but close examination reveals the artifice.
Just as melodrama tries to manipulate your feelings, Tar
beats you over the head with its “art” rather than trusting the audience to
decide whether it is, isn’t, or just the auteur engaging in three hours
of cinematic masturbation.
Thursday, February 23, 2023
High Concept
The Beloved Spouse™ and I recently watched Oblivion, a 2013 film starring Tom Cruise and Morgan Freeman. It was an interesting idea: aliens from a dying planet invade Earth. They begin the assault by severely damaging the Moon, which releases havoc on Earth. Humans resort to nuclear weapons to win the war, which devastates the planet and forces an escape to Saturn’s moon, Titan. A small crew stays behind to prevent holdouts from the invading force from messing with the huge devices that are sucking up all the water on the planet for transport to Titan. (Yeah, I know, but it’s a science fiction movie, so an adequate quantity of disbelief suspension is required to commit to watching it in the first place.) As you may expect, there are several twists along the way, but I’m not here to provide plot spoilers, though I may spoil it for you in other ways.
Oblivion is not a waste of time. The production
values are exceptional, and the special effects are believable. Tom Cruise does
well, considering he doesn’t all that often have anyone to play off of, and
Morgan Freeman is Morgan Freeman, which means he’s outstanding. There are
things that don’t work as well, but that’s also not why we’re here.
Why we’re here is to go over how Oblivion stands in
for so many movies made in recent years, science fiction or otherwise. The film
was clearly sold as a high concept, which is fine, as far as it goes. Execution
and vision matter even more. What appeared to happen here was that, once
greenlighted, someone decided the plot needed “more.” Unfortunately, the “more”
turned out to be a mash-up of other famous sci-fi pics. It got so obvious TBS
and I started calling them out to each other as they arose.
“This is a little like The Martian, but on Earth.”
“Don’t those drones remind you of Star Wars?”
“That’s got a Predator vibe.”
“Remind you of Aliens?”
“Right out of 2001.”
There were more. Those are what I remember after a night of
cleansing sleep.
It occurred to me while writing this that it’s possible the
studio muckety-mucks who sent notes might not be aware of these older pictures.
I am always mindful of Robert B. Parker telling a story about pitching a
Western to some young female executive who listened to the whole spiel, said
she liked it, but wanted to know “Who’s this Wyatt Earp guy?”
I worked several years on and off on a Western I finally set
aside because I decided it wasn’t much more than a retelling of favorite scenes
from some of my favorite Westerns. I may have to consider sending that one out
after all. Apparently originality isn’t as big a deal as creating the
impression of originality long enough to get a contract.
Puts me in mind of an old Jerry Seinfeld line about
relationships: Once you learn to fake sincerity, the rest is a breeze.
(PS
While this post underwent editing, we watched Den of
Thieves, with Gerard Butler and Pablo Schreiber. The same issues I had with
Oblivion applied here. “Reminds me of the shootout in Heat.”
“This is him doing the Chinese acrobat bit from Ocean’s Eleven.” “That’s
right out of Inside Man.” “Lifted from The Usual Suspects pretty
much verbatim.” It’s a thing now.)
Thursday, January 26, 2023
My Favorite Crime Movies
That’s right, my Top Ten list. You don’t like it, make your own.
Top Ten lists are the two-inch erections of writing. (A man and a woman go to bed together. She
sees his erection measures two inches, at best, and asks, “Who do you expect to
satisfy with that?” “Me,” he replies.) Everyone has their own tastes and
criteria. Watching the Godfather trilogy a few weeks ago got me to
thinking about my personal Pantheon of crime films. Take it for what it’s
worth.
I have two primary principles when evaluating films for my
list:
1. I have to like the movie.
2. It has to bear up under repeated viewings.
This means pictures such as A Touch of Evil don’t
make the cut, no matter how much Chili Palmer likes it. I can appreciate the
art, but a movie that casts Charlton Heston as a Mexican and leaves Janet Leigh
to sit alone in a motel room for most of its duration is not something I’m
going to watch a lot. Or even again.
Pulp Fiction is also right out. I’ve seen it many
times and will probably see it again, but my opinion changes with every viewing.
Is it brilliant? Is it a series of brilliant scenes that don’t quite equal the
sum of their parts? Is it indecipherable, self-indulgent twaddle? Is it all of
the above? Every time I watch it, I come down on the side of a different
answer.
What does make the cut? These are all movies I’ll watch
again—most of which I own—and look forward to doing so, knowing I’ll find
something to enjoy I missed before. I made no effort to rank them; they are
displayed in chronological order of their release.
The Maltese Falcon (1940)
The quintessential black and white noir film, in my mind
rivaled only by Sunset Boulevard. (Which did not make the list because I
don’t consider it a crime movie, though there is a crime committed.) The complex
plot is not too complex to follow, and all the ends are tied off without being
too pat about it. Bogart looks nothing like how Spade is described in the book,
but he’s still perfect in the part. My only quibble was with Mary Astor as the
femme fatale, but a little research taught me she had a reputation as a
Hollywood bad girl at the time, which made her more believable to audiences of
the day.
The French Connection (1971)
Including this one saved me a beating from Reed Farrel
Coleman, but it would have made the cut, anyway. Gene Hackman and Roy Scheider
made their bones here; Hackman already had a name for himself, but Popeye Doyle
blew him up. Don’t pay too much attention to the story; this is the ultimate
mood picture, with one of the great (underrated) soundtracks ever. The chase
sequence still grips me, though I have come to wonder how many cars that subway
train had.
The Godfather (1972)
I talked about this one last
week.
The Friends of Eddie Coyle (1973)
Wonderful and faithful adaptation of George V. Higgins’s
groundbreaking novel. My favorite Robert Mitchum performance, though Peter
Boyle, Richard Jordan, and Steven Keats were all worthy of award consideration.
The movie that, as much as any, shaped my ideas about criminal life.*
Chinatown (June 1974)
My go-to film when anyone complains about the water
situation in Southern California. It’s a desert. People weren’t meant to
live there. Just about a perfect noir.
The Godfather Part 2 (December 1974)
I talked about this one last
week, too.
The Usual Suspects (1995)
It’s hard to imagine anyone who reads this blog isn’t
familiar with The Usual Suspects, but I’ll not say much just in case,
lest I spoil the greatest reveal in crime film history. Kevin Spacey steals the
show, but all of the supporting actors are outstanding. Fun fact: Chazz
Palmentieri played federal agent Dave Kujan (pronounced koo-yawn.); “Cujon” (very
close in pronunciation) is a Cajun word for “fool.”
LA Confidential (1997)
Here it is, Mike Dennis. I wrote a
blog about this one over ten years ago that probably needs some updating
now that I’ve read the book. The only thing close to a flaw I can find is the
display of Susan Lefferts’s body in the identification scene. She was killed by
shotgun but doesn’t have a mark on her. Think how good a film must be for that
to be my major quibble.
The Drop (2014)
A clinic in how to get in and get out of a story as
economically as possible while still providing maximum impact for the audience.
Tom Hardy is at his chameleon best, and James Gandolfini, Noomi Rapace, and
Mattias Schoenaerts hang right with him. The final reveal here is first rate.
Hell or High Water (2016)
Taylor Sheridan’s masterpiece to date. Not that his other
work isn’t good, but Hell or High Water shows both the criminal and law
enforcement side with equal depth and understanding. The final scene between
Jeff Bridges and Chris Pine, each understanding the other better than the other
thinks, worthy adversaries to the end, ties off a movie as well as any I’ve
seen.
* -- This is why Heat, Goodfellas, and Casino
didn’t make the list. They’re all brilliant films worthy of repeated viewings,
but they’re too flashy.
I expect this list to satisfy no one other than myself. Bring
it on.
Thursday, January 19, 2023
The Godfather Trilogy
The Beloved Spouse™ and I took a few days to watch all three Godfather movies in order. For Christmas, The Sole Heir gave me Mark Seal’s excellent book Leave the Gun, take the Cannoli, which describes how the films came to be, from Mario Puzo’s personal backstory right up until the movie’s phenomenal success. Seal wrote an entire book about just one of the pictures, so I’m not going to try to get into all of them in a single blog. I can supply a list of salient thoughts.
·
The original is the best. For a long time I was
unsure if Part 2 might be better, but on further review, The
Godfather is damn near a perfect film, maybe the best ever.
·
Part 3, or as it’s now called, The
Death of Michael Corleone, is not worthy of inclusion with its
predecessors. I’ll not spend any more time on this lizard.
·
Forty-seven-year-old Marlon Brando’s performance
of the aging Don Corleone is one of the great performances of all time. There
are those who criticize his speaking voice and mannerisms; I grew up around a
lot of people of Italian ancestry, used to rehearse at the local Italian
American Club, and he nailed those old guys.
·
Francis Ford Coppola and Puzo worked
hand-in-glove on the screenplay, which is brilliant. Kudos to Puzo for
acquiescing to cutting a lot of the book. Not that he had much choice, but Seal
describes the collaboration process as more than cordial, leading to a
life-long friendship.
·
The lighting and cinematography of the original
are breathtaking. One can almost smell the interior of the Corleone house. The
contrasts of New York, Hollywood, and Sicily are artfully displayed in the
photography.
·
For all the graphic, extreme, and cartoonish
violence we’ve seen over the past fifty years, the death of Sonny Corleone is
still hard to watch, as is his beating of Carlo Rizzi.
·
The first two films contain wonderfully
controlled performances by Al Pacino. Great as his career has been, he would
have been well served by doing more of this in his later years.
·
Let’s not forget the performances of James Caan
as Sonny and John Cazale as Fredo. Robert Duvall has a much smaller part, but
has Robert Duvall ever given a less than masterful performance?
·
Nino Rota’s score is unobtrusive and enhances every
scene in which it appears.
·
Has there ever been a second-tier supporting
cast better than Richard Castellano (Clemenza), Abe Vigoda (Tessio), John
Marley (Jack Woltz), Sterling Hayden (Captain McCluskey), Al Lettieri
(Sollozzo), Alex Rocco (Moe Greene), and Richard Conte (Barzini)? Adding
Michael V. Gazzo (Frankie Pantangelo), Lee Strasberg (Hyman Roth), G.D.
Spradlin (Senator Geary), and Dominic Chianese (Johnny Ola) in Part 2
was pretty slick, too.
·
It’s Michael’s story, but the depiction of the
Cuban revolution in Part 2 provides pithy commentary on American hubris regarding
Cuba and, by extension, much of the rest of the world in the 50s and 60s.
·
Diane Keaton is better in Part 2 than in
the original, but she didn’t bloom as an actress for another few years.
Fortunately for all of us it was in time for Annie Hall.
·
Interesting note from the book that I did not
know: Sofia Coppola is the baby christened in the finale of the original.
·
The wedding scene is masterful at providing
exposition and backstory without being too obvious about it. Well, yeah, it’s
clear that is what’s being done, but it has momentum of its own while laying
out everything we need to know for the next two-and-a-half hours.
·
Rivals Casablanca for iconic lines.
o
“I believe in America.”
o
“I’ll make him an offer he can’t refuse.”
o
‘What have I ever done to make you treat me so
disrespectfully?”
o
“Leave the gun. Take the cannoli.”
o
“Someday, and this day may never come, I will
ask you for a favor.”
o
These were off the top of my head. I could fill
a blog post on great lines alone if I took the time to check them out in IMDB.
It’s hard to imagine anyone who reads this blog who has not
seen at least the first two Godfather movies. If you haven’t, rectify
the situation as soon as possible. While they hold up to repeated viewings,
revealing new things each time, there’s nothing to compare to seeing them for
the first time. Darken the room and make sure you go to the bathroom before
starting. You’re not going to want to stop.
Thursday, July 28, 2022
Blasts From the Past
I’ve been traveling and didn’t have time to do justice to the post I had scheduled for today, so we’ll hold that for another time. My conscientious nature (read: OCD) compels me, almost literally, to post something every Friday.
So I wondered what I posted ten years ago. (An idea I stole
from Ken Levine’s award-winning blog, as I am nothing if not unoriginal.)
As it happens, the posts in July 2012 covered two subjects:
·
The release of my novel Wild Bill, which
might be my favorite of the 14 books I’ve written (it’s in the top three for
sure)
·
A brief review of an underappreciated film, Things
to Do in Denver When You’re Dead.
Here’s a link to
purchase Wild Bill, which was my most ambitious book, and I absolutely
guaran-goddamn-tee you it’s worth every cent of the buck a Kindle copy will
cost you. (Unless you have Kindle Unlimited, in which case I guarantee you your
money back on any free download if you don’t like it. Try beating that deal
with any other publisher. I dare you.)
Need more info on Wild Bill? Here you go.
Will Hickox is a decorated FBI veteran with a legendary
ability to cultivate informants, much closer to retirement than to the days
when he earned the nickname “Wild Bill.” Operation Fallout should cut the head
off of the Chicago mob and provide a fitting capstone to his career. When
Outfit boss Gianni Bevilacqua dies and the resulting war places Fallout in
jeopardy, Hickox does what he can to save it, and his retirement plans with his
lover, Madeline Klimak.
Wild Bill examines the stresses of Operation Fallout from
the law enforcement, criminal, and personal perspectives, as Will and his peers
fight to keep the investigation afloat amid the power struggle between Gianni’s
son and elder statesman Frank Ferraro. Torn between wanting closure to the
investigation and starting his retirement, Hickox weighs the dangers of
involving himself and Operation Fallout in the war, blurring the line he walks
with his informants.
And here’s what I had to say about TDDIDWYD:
I only heard of this movie because it stole its name from
the Warren Zevon song. All I knew about it was the title.
So I wasn’t expecting much when the credits started to roll.
Andy Garcia. William Forsythe. Christopher Lloyd. Treat Williams. Jack Warden.
Steve Buscemi. Bill Cobbs. Oh. “And Christopher Walken.” (Don Cheadle also has
a cameo not noted in the opening.)
Now they have my attention.
This is a solid movie about what happens when you mix with
the wrong people and things go tits up. (In this case literally, when Garcia’s
crew accidentally kills the girl they’re supposed to be bringing back to the
crime boss’s son.) I’ve always liked Andy Garcia, and I appreciate his skill as
an actor more all the time. (For a role you’d never expect to see him in, check
out Confidence.) Here he pulls off subtlety most actors wouldn’t have the nerve
to attempt, especially in a touching scene with Lloyd. This is also the first
time I’d seen Lloyd in a straight dramatic role, and he is convincing as the
senior member of Garcia’s crew.
The story moves along, the dialog sizzles, and the
performances are spot on. The movie lost its ass, according to IMDB. (Budget of
$7 million; American gross of about $500,000, though it did better in the UK.)
It’s a shame. This is a good example of what can be done on a fairly limited
budget, working with professional actors for whom the job is worth more than
the check or the media coverage.
Will your life be forever diminished if you don’t see Things
to Do in Denver When You’re Dead? No. If you like solid, gritty crime stories
with solid performances, sharp dialog, a little tongue-in-cheek humor, and bits
of pathos that never become maudlin, it’s a well spent couple of hours.
Thursday, May 12, 2022
Who is the Intended Audience?
Last week The Beloved Spouse™ and I watched Mel Brooks’s classic Young Frankenstein. We own a boxed set of his movies and dip into it when we’re stuck for something to watch, or have been in a slump picking films we like.
The point of this post is that Young Frankenstein was
not our first choice that night. The plan was to watch The Adventures of
Priscilla, Queen of the Desert, a 1994 Australian flick about two gay drag
performers (Guy Pearce, Hugo Wearing) and a transgender woman (Terrence Stamp)
traveling across Australia with their cabaret act. The film had generally good
reviews, it struck us as quirky enough to be fun, and we both wanted to see Guy
Pearce in the role, as our primary experience with him is as Ed Exley in L.A.
Confidential.
We lasted twenty minutes. It’s not that we’re homophobic (as
several friends and a member of the extended family can attest) or transphobic
(we also have trans friends and an MTF member of the family we don’t have much
to do with, but that extends to well before her transition). It was fun to
watch Pearce prance around, but almost all of the humor left us flat. Reviews
tell me many people found the film hilarious, and we have active and
broad-based senses of humor. What did we miss?
We were not the intended audience.
Priscilla’s creative team didn’t give a fuck how late-60s
cisgendered white people viewed their movie. Nor should they. (Being Americans
might not have helped us much, either.) They made Priscilla for people already
immersed in that culture, or had keen interest in it. In our brief viewing
time, I spotted what I imagined were three inside jokes I didn’t get, probably
because I lacked the background.
That’s not a bad thing. No one is tuned in to everything,
and anyone who claims to be is either
Lying
So superficial they don’t know much about anything
I doubt writer-director Stephen Elliott would have a problem
with us turning off his movie. I can imagine him smiling wryly and saying,
“Well, you know, mate, you weren’t exactly the blokes we had in mind when we
made this.” I suspect there would be no hard feelings, either way.
Why am I writing about this in my blog? Because the same
holds true for writers. Even within the crime genre, I don’t read cozies.
(Though Colin Conway is wearing me down.) Psychological thrillers set in
suburbia don’t appeal to me. Why not?
Cozies are too unbelievable for my police-procedure,
process-oriented mind. The motivations of the suburban psychological thriller
villains are too internal and perverse for me. I like criminals who commit
crimes for reasons other than it gets themselves off.
Does that make these kinds of books any less worthy than
what I do read? Absolutely not. Does that make me wrong? No again. Everyone has
their happy places. While it’s never a bad idea to expand one’s horizons, life
is also too short to read books you don’t like.
This is among the reasons I so rarely read bestsellers. The
books too often make accommodations to attract a sufficiently wide range of
readers, thus losing whatever focus that might have made me enjoy them.
Last week I noted that Edith Wharton quotes sit near my
writing desk. Two come to mind here:
Know your scope (which means you need to have one)
Have a point (ditto)
No matter what kind of book you write, your point will not
appeal to everyone; the same applies to the scope. How often have you said,
“Oh, I wish she’d have…? Be honest. We all do it. Once a month I’ll turn to TBS
after watching something and say, “There was a good movie here. This just wasn’t it.”
What’s my point? I don’t mind that cozy aficionados and
subpsych thriller readers might not read my books. You’re not my intended
audience, just as I am not the intended audience for Louise Penny and Laura
Lippman. A writer who tries to write for everybody writes for nobody. You’ll do
your best work when you, and those with similar tastes, are your intended
audience.
I hear you asking now: “What if that audience isn’t large
enough to support me as a writer?” Which leads us back to the most important
piece of advice any young writer (and most older writers) ever receives:
Don’t quit your day job.
The core question is, “Do you want to write, or do you want
to get rich?” True, some do both, but if that’s your hope, save yourself a lot of
pain and money and play the lottery. Your odds are better.
Thursday, February 17, 2022
Movies and TV Since the Last Time
The Courier (2020) Benedict Cumberbatch in an excellent retelling of the Penkovsky spy situation that took place around the time of the Cuban Missile Crisis. Cumberbatch plays a British businessman recruited my M.I.6 to act as the go-between with Penkovsky. A perfect example of how to build and sustain tension and suspense without blowing shit up.
Green Zone (2010) Based on another true story, this
time set in the early days of the Iraq War. Matt Damon plays a warrant officer
caught between politics, the media, and the CIA agent (Brendan Gleeson) who’s trying
to make things come out right. Lots of shit blows up here, but never
gratuitously. Well worth your time.
Galaxy Quest (1999) I forget how many times I’ve seen
this*, and it’s always fun. If you haven’t seen it, you should, especially if
you’re a Trekkie and have a sense of humor. (* - Note to Mike Dennis: Not as
many times as L.A. Confidential.)
Never Surrender: A Galaxy Quest Documentary (2019)
First time for this one and it changed my attitude about cosplay. The film not
only tells much of how Galaxy Quest was made, it explores the word of
cosplayers with a humorous, yet sympathetic light. Galaxy Quest devotees
will probably enjoy it more, but, then again, shouldn’t everyone be a Galaxy
Quest fan?
Bad Santa 2 (2016) I didn’t even know there was a Bad
Santa 2 until I stumbled onto this while searching streaming services for
the original. The rare sequel that’s as much fun as the original, with humor at
least as outrageous.
We Were Soldiers (2002) Maybe the best film I’ve seen
about what it’s like to be a conscientious military commander. Closely based on
a true story, the movie shows the Vietnam War battle for Ia Drang, the first
time helicopters were used to ferry infantry to and from a battlefield, and all
the plusses and fuck-ups that entails. Mel Gibson and Sam Elliott are excellent
as the commander and his sergeant major; Greg Kinnear shines in one of his
first dramatic roles as a chopper pilot. Fair warning: this is not the easiest
movie to watch, as it’s horribly gruesome in places.
Don’t Look Up (2021) Don’t look at this piece of shit
at all. I lived through the eras of such brilliant satires As Dr, Strangelove,
Catch-22, M*A*S*H, Wag the Dog, and Primary Colors, and have
unfortunately lived long enough to see this ham-handed effort to point out
what’s wrong with the world today. It’s been a while since I saw so much acting
talent wasted like this. I suppose everyone felt good about coming down on the
right side of this discussion. If only they’d decided to make a good movie
while they were at it.
Gladiator (2000) Made when Russell Crowe was arguably
the biggest star in Hollywood, Gladiator is among the reasons he earned
the spot. Joaquin Phoenix is repulsively squishy as the new emperor and Connie
Nielsen as his equally scheming sister, but everything in the movie revolves
around what to do about Maximus (Crowe). A damn near perfect example of telling
a compelling story in a compelling manner. Was I not entertained? Damn right I
was.
The Woman in the House Across the Street from the Girl in
the Window (2022) Not a movie, but a short (3 ½ hours) streaming series
from Netflix. IMDB lists the genres as “Comedy Crime Drama Mystery Thriller.”
If you think that combo equates to a mess, you’re not far off. It’s presented
as a comedy, but much of the early “humor” derives from a woman who is going
insane from grief, which has about as much comedy potential as AIDS.
(Things get rolling at 30 seconds into the video.) The comedy picks up as the
show goes along, but even then it’s too more clever than laugh-out-loud funny.
Striking Distance (1993) Never watch a movie because
you learned a fifteen-second scene took place a mile from where you grew up. This
one’s a stinker from the get-go, despite the formidable supporting cast of
Dennis farina, Sarah Jessica Parker, Tom Sizemore, John Mahoney, Andre Braugher,
and Robert Pastorelli. The film gets the Pittsburgh look well, but not much
else. The plot is a mess, the dialog is typical of the renegade cop genre, and the
excellent cast is given little to work with.
Gorky Park (1983) William Hurt plays Arkady Renko in
this adaptation of Martin Cruz Smith’s novel. I saw it in a theater during its
original release and thought it would be a nice palate cleanser after the
disaster that was Striking Distance. Alas, it did not hold up
well, despite the best efforts of Lee Marvin and Brian Dennehy. The film leaves
too many plot particulars to the imagination, especially the key reveal of the
plot behind everything else, which Dennehy hands to Renko on a platter with us
having no idea how an American detective operating as a tourist in the USSR could
have discovered it. These back-to-back failures got me suspended from picking
movies for a while.
Thursday, November 18, 2021
What I've Been Watching
I don’t keep track of all the movies I watch like I used to.
Part of this is because, now that I’m retired, I watch a lot more movies. I
don’t want it to become a task, so, in the immortal words of Ray “Bones” Barboni,
I say “Fuck that.” Another part, somewhat related, is that since retired people
can do whatever they want, keeping track of every movie I see is not something
I particularly want to do. Again quoting Mr. Barboni, I say “Fuck that, too.”
I have seen some things recently that are worthy of comment,
and what else are blogs good for if not to bore your friends with your personal
opinions?
Cheers. We’re into Season 5 and loving every episode.
I’d seen just about all of them when they originally aired, but it’s a delight
to go back and see how good this show was through more experienced eyes. I’ve
always been a Ted Danson fan, but watching him now, knowing what subtle things
to look for, is fascinating. The same applies on a somewhat lesser level to
George Wendt. Season 4 is when they made the transition from Coach to Woody,
and it’s great fun to see Woody Harrelson get his start, knowing where his
career goes from here. The humor holds up well, though some of the attitudes
would not pass muster in today’s culture.
Killing Them Softly (2012) Based on George V.
Higgins’s novel Cogan’s Trade, an unorthodox but highly effective look
at life in the underworld. It appears no one outside the crime fiction
community cared for this dialog-heavy, character driven adaptation, but that’s
okay. (It’s Higgins, dumbasses; what did you expect?) Brad Pitt and James
Gandolfini are perfect, and director Andrew Dominik knew how much of Higgins’s
book to leave alone. Highly recommended.
Cellular (2004) I don’t post unflattering book
reviews, but I will for movies. Why the difference? Books have a hard enough
time getting traction as it is. Dozens of people vet movies before they get
made, and have millions of dollars invested in them. When such a deeply flawed
system produces a true stinker, it’s only fair to point it out, as a warning to
others that this is dog shit, don’t get any in your eyes. In Cellular, a
wholly implausible premise works its way through enough holes for not just a
golf course, but a whole resort. We watched it because we’re Jason Statham
fans, but he’s not in it much. Even when he is, he has shit material.
The Bank Job (2008) I dumped on Jason Statham above,
so it’s only fair I point out a movie that surprised me in a positive way.
Based on a true story, The Bank Job has Statham front and center as the
brains behind a complicated bank robbery that is not what it appears, even to
the robbers. A highly entertaining film all around.
Official Secrets (2019) Keira Knightley stars as a
young MI6 prole who stumbles onto an email that incriminates the American and
British governments in blackmailing foreign UN ambassadors on the Security
Council into voting for the 2003 war in Iraq. Based on actual events, it’s a
chilling story of individual courage, the lengths governments will go to save
face, and how even elected officials occasionally buck what’s good for their
careers to help a constituent.
Goodfellas (1990) The memories of a few scenes are so
strong from this film it’s sometimes easy to forget how great it is. (“Get your
shine box.” “You think I’m funny?” “Fuck you, pay me.”) The only real criticism
I’ve heard of this film is that it glamorizes mob life, but that overlooks the
fact director Martin Scorsese tells the story through the eyes of Henry Hill
(Ray Liotta), whose sole ambition in life was to be a gangster. The more he
sees how things work, and the deeper he’s involved, the more the glamor wears
away until everything falls apart in the end. Scorsese doesn’t hit you over the
head with it, but the ultimate message here is these guys all end up either in
prison or dead. In anticipation of the reasonable question, “Did Henry Hill
really look at the mob that way?” read the sequel to Nicholas Pileggi’s Wiseguy,
Gangsters and Goodfellas, written by Hill himself to describe his life
in witness protection. A bigger piece of shit than Henry Hill would be
difficult to find.
The Many Saints of Newark (2021) I don’t know that
it’s a bad movie, but anything that hangs its rep so closely to The Sopranos
should have been much better than this.
Thursday, June 24, 2021
3:10 to Yuma
The Beloved Spouse™ and I recently performed an experiment. In one night we
·
Watched the movie 3:10 to Yuma (original
1957 version)
·
Watched 3:10 to Yuma (2007 remake)
·
Read Elmore Leonard’s short story
What we discovered was interesting. (Be forewarned. Spoilers
abound.)
First, the 2007 movie is a remake of the 1957 original, not a re-visiting of the source material as the
Coen Brothers did with True Grit. The 2007 version tracks the 1957 version closely, particularly when it came to bits in the movie that weren’t in the book. The biggest difference is in the ending, and an expanded part for Dan Evans’s son, William.
Differences from the book that were in both movies:
·
The main characters’ names, though the same in
both movies. The lawman in the story is named Paul Scallen; the movies use Dan
Evans. The prisoner in the book is Jim Kidd; in the movies he’s Ben Wade. (I
wonder if this had anything to do with a screenplay Leonard later wrote for
Clint Eastwood, Joe Kidd.
·
Scallen’s a marshal who’s doing his job; both
versions of Dan Evans portray him as a rancher down on his luck who takes the
job because he needs the money. I think the story works better. Scallen has the
same doubts and fears as Evans, but he makes sure Kidd gets on the train
because it’s his job. There’s a dignity to that, just as much as the rancher
risking his life to save the ranch.
·
Evans’s family play a much larger role in the
films. In the remake, Evans’s son even tags along to enrich the plot. The
primary role of the family scenes is to humanize Wade through his interactions
with the wife and children. More on Wade’s character below.
·
The original film shows Wade to be ruthless but
thoughtful. He kills one of his own in cold blood in order to create a shot at
the stage driver who held a gun to his man’s head, which he also does in the
remake.
·
Both films add extended backstory to show why
Wade is wanted; Leonard’s story begins with him already in custody.
·
The movies differ in how they leaven Wade’s character. In the original, he and the gang stop into town to misdirect the local marshal. The gang goes off and Wade seduces the barmaid. He treats her well by “two ships passing in the night” standards.
·
The remake goes adds two elements to Wade
character. He’s a pretty good artist, given to sketching birds and a picture of
Evans as he stands guard. He also makes it clear to young William that he
(Wade) is just as bad as any of the rest of his gang, or he couldn’t lead them.
·
That last points out the biggest difference in
the films: their eras. The 1957 version is what I call a “good haircut”
Western. Everyone is well groomed, and the worst of their conduct is only
hinted at. (Except for shooting people. American films have never had a problem
with showing that.) The remake is of the modern revisionist school, much
grittier, with villains who come across as ruthless as they would likely have
been in 1880s Arizona.
·
The casting and acting in both are excellent.
The original cast Van Heflin as Evans and Glenn Ford as Wade. No one was better
than Heflin at playing the ordinary man carrying a burden. Ford plays Wade with
an understated menace that is made more effective through its lack of
histrionics. The remake had Christian Bale playing Evans, outstanding and
believable as always; and Russell Crowe a Wade, displaying with ease the
multiple facets of the personality this screenplay gives him. Who’s better?
Depends on the style of acting you prefer. I like the less declamatory style,
so I side with the 2007 edition, but both are excellent. A special shoutout to
Ben Foster as 2007 Wade’s Number Two, Charlie Prince. I’m a Richard Jaeckel
fan, but Foster provided a level of menace and insanity that helped drive the
entire picture.
So which did I prefer better? The
story is cleaner and far more straightforward, but it had the advantage of
brevity. The movies need to provide an evening’s entertainment. I prefer the
2007 version, due to its revisionist elements and the bits that were added in
getting Wade from Bisbee to Contention to catch the train, as they brought
depth and realism to the story while exploring characters in more detail. The
remake has a dramatically different ending (which I’ll not spoil) that I don’t
have a good explanation for. I don’t think it makes the movie any worse or
better. It’s just different.
We had a lot of fun doing this. A
short story as source material made the process easier (I read it aloud to TBS
after the viewings), but I see potential for a few nights a year with similar
double features. True Grit. The Magnificent Seven. The Taking of Pelham
1-2-3. It’s a quick and entertaining
way to study variations in storytelling, which is never a bad thing.
Thursday, June 10, 2021
Public Service Announcement: Beware Honest Thief
The Beloved Spouse™ and I have streamed a couple of stinkers
from stars we usually enjoy. My first thought was to attribute both films’ flaws
to COVID-related production issues, but it occurred to be the scripts were greenlit
before things started shutting down.
I don’t often post just to dump on something, but this is a
public service. Spoilers abound, and that’s so you don’t flush away parts of
your precious lives like we did.
The film under discussion is Honest Thief, starring
Liam Neeson. Unhinged, with Russell Crowe, is even worse.
The initial premise is intriguing. A robber names Tom has
taken $9 million from seven banks over the past few years. He meets a woman,
falls in love, and decides to turn himself in. I can buy this. First, it’s Liam
Neeson. Second, I have a close friend who did something similar.
You’re probably thinking it’s a legal thriller. Robber goes
to a lawyer, who calls the US Attorney (bank robbery is a federal crime), but
things go awry in the red tape and politics of DOJ. Neeson’s the crook, Paul
Giamatti’s his lawyer, and Will Patton or Bob Balaban plays the smarmy pud DOJ
functionary who sends things reeling. I’d watch that.
Our crook doesn’t do that. He calls the FBI tip line with
all the other wackos. They, of course do not take him seriously. How can he
convince them? Well, he still has the money. Hasn’t spent a dime. How about if
he tells them where it is? The feds finally send a couple of agents around and,
lo and behold, they decide to keep the money and say it was never there. Go so
far as to kill their boss when he starts checking up on them.
Tom’s not a complete idiot. He only gave the feds the
location of three million. (The rest is in the next storage unit over.) He’s
now engaged in a cat-and-mouse game with the crooked feds and their dead boss’s
partner, who smells something fishy.
One of the feds is a lot more bent than the other. He’s the
one who killed the boss (played by Robert Patrick, who would have been better
served by revisiting his Terminator 2: Judgment Day skills,
re-fabricated himself around the bullet would, and made his finger into a pokey
thing to stab the crooked fed in the eye), and tried twice to kill our
robber-hero’s girlfriend.
His younger partner shows signs of indecision. In fact, he
is so indecisive he foregoes multiple opportunities to come clean at no risk to
himself, thus donning a red shirt for the entire second half of the movie. (You
can’t see it, but you know it has to be there, if only because he’s too stupid
to live.)
Did I mention Tom way) is a demolitions expert? He blows up
the really bent fed’s house as a warning. Houses on either side remain
undisturbed in this fashionable Boston suburb, where a quick look will show you
this can’t have been this cop’s first foray into illegality, as no FBI agent
could afford that house in that neighborhood. (Why doesn’t the FBI keep tabs on
this shit?)
This review is getting as tedious as the movie, so I’ll cut
to the end. Our crook-hero sets up the fed by telling him there’s a pressure
bomb under his car seat after he fled the house explosion. The bomb squad finds
no detonator, but the ruse held Nemesis there long enough for our crook-hero to
lay out all the evidence he’d accumulated so the dead boss’s partner is there
to pick up the pieces.
In the end, Liam Neeson will do a couple of years in a minimum-security
prison near Boston so his sweetheart can visit him. Apparently the local cops
don’t have a problem with people blowing up entire houses in their
jurisdiction.
This essay barely scratches the surface of the problems with
this movie. Save yourselves now.
You’re welcome.
Thursday, October 15, 2020
Movies I'd Watch Forever
We all have movies we’ll watch time and again. This is by no
means a comprehensive list, but if I had to pick a dozen movies to watch for
the rest of my life, I’d be happy with these. (In alphabetical order.)
Animal House (1978)
A film that speaks to me. I graduated college in 1978, and a guy lived in my
first off-campus dorm parked his motorcycle in his room. I would vote for John
Blutarsky in a heartbeat if he were running against either Mitch McConnell or
Lindsey Graham. Fat, drunk, and stupid is no way to go through life, son.
The Big Lebowski
(1998) How The Beloved Spouse™ and I spend two hours of every New Year’s Eve.
The Dude abides.
Butch Cassidy and the
Sundance Kid (1969) Greatest buddy movie ever. Who are those guys?
The Drop (2014) As
perfect an exercise in storytelling as I have ever seen. They never see you
coming, do they, Bob? (Honorable mention: Gone
Baby Gone.)
The French Connection (1971)
I date all crime movies as pre-French
Connection or post-French Connection. You pick your feet in
Poughkeepsie?
The Friends of Eddie
Coyle (1973) Maybe the best film ever made about the side of mob life no
wants to think about. Life is hard. It’s even harder when you’re stupid.
Get Shorty (1995) What
I watch on my birthday, and still my favorite Elmore Leonard adaptation. I’m
not gonna say any more than I have to, if that.
Hell or High Water
(2016) Sicario probably gets more
attention and Wind River might make
this list on a different day, but Hell or
High Water is as well-constructed a crime story as you will ever see. What
don’t you want?
Hombre (1967)
There are arguably better Westerns, but not many. Maybe the best Elmore Leonard
adaptation, certainly the truest to the book, and maybe his best book. Mister,
you got some hard bark on you.
The Ice Harvest (2005)
The Beloved Spouse™ bought it for me and fell in love with it. Now it’s the
Official Christmas Eve Movie of Castle Schadenfreude. As Wichita falls... so
falls Wichita Falls.
LA Confidential (1997)
You knew it would show up here sooner or later, right? I’ll watch this bad boy multiple
times a year and never get tired of it. Was that how you used to run the “good
cop – bad cop?”
Monty Python and the
Holy Grail (1975) My brother and I used to binge this as best we could when
the only places you could see it were on PBS pledge drives and midnight shows. I
don't want to talk to you no more, you empty-headed animal food trough wiper.
Aw, hell. As I went through the list I realized there are
two more I can’t leave out.
The Maltese Falcon (1941)
As faithful an adaptation of as perfect a book as has ever been written. Or at
least as close as the Hayes Office would allow. We didn't exactly believe your
story, Miss Wonderly. We believed your two hundred dollars.
The Princess Bride (1987)
I always forget how much I enjoy this movie until The Beloved Spouse™ talks me
into watching it. Then I could watch it again the next night. The epitome of
good, clean movie fun. As you wish.
I was going over this list with The Beloved Spouse™, who
responded with some alarm, “Where’s Mel Brooks?”
Blazing Saddles (1974)
Of all the movies that couldn’t be made today, this one is most unable to be
made today, and we’re all worse off because of it. Satirical social commentary
was never better. Huh, Mongo straight.
The Producers
(1967) I liked the remake, but this is the one I’d take with me for Zero Mostel
and a young Gene Wilder. Will the dancing Hitlers please wait in the wings? We
are only seeing singing Hitlers.
Thursday, August 27, 2020
The French Connection
I suppose it’s telling that, facing a rare free weekday
afternoon and looking for a feel-good movie, I chose The French Connection.
Regular readers know I am a devotee of Seventies crime movies. I rarely pontificate on the “importance” of films, but I do believe The French Connection is a seminal event in the genre. Crime movies were different after this. They had to be.
A problem with seeing anything as often as I’ve seen The French Connection is that little flaws become more obvious and TFC has its share.
·
Cloudy (Roy Scheider) asks Popeye (Gene Hackman)
how he was supposed to know a guy they busted had a knife when it was he who hollered,
“Watch out, Jimmy! He’s got a knife—” when the action went down.
·
Why do the smugglers leave the Lincoln with the
drugs at the waterfront? I’m willing to say the plan was to have it picked up to
transfer the drugs, reported as stolen, and returned intact, but there are far
easier ways.
·
Why do they buy the junker car to store the
money? Why not just put it back in the Lincoln?
·
Why take Doyle and Russo to the site of a
horrible car crash to take them off the case? They’re Brooklyn narcotics
detectives. Why are any of them even there?
·
How does the conductor (or whatever he is) of
the subway train not know the Transit cop has been shot? What happened to all
the people who fled toward the front of the train?
·
Why doesn’t the dead man’s switch engage when
the motorman passes out? (Yes, I read The
Taking of Pelham One-Two-Three.)
None of that matters.
There are lots of movies where any of the above would take me out of the story. Not here. I saw The French Connection for the first time in a theater (a double-feature* with M*A*S*H, no less) and noticed none of those things. The film engrossed me from the opening credits. Martians could have delivered the drugs and I wouldn’t have cared.
The French Connection and the first two Godfather films hold positions in the cinematic pantheon of crime stories not unlike the relationship of Beethoven symphonies to Mozart’s. The Godfather and The Godfather Part 2 perfect the conventions that have come before. The French Connection throws open the door of what is to come. There is a little overlap, but once that genie is out of the bottle there’s no going back.
