Excuse me, while I whip this out!

BLAZING SADDLES (1974)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

"Blazing Saddles" is not my favorite comedy by Mel Brooks. It is uneven and features an ending that takes us somewhere else, which may be the point. More importantly, it does not have the high belly laugh ratio of "Young Frankenstein," his most perfectly uproarious film. "Blazing Saddles" is still funnier and loopier than "High Anxiety" or "Silent Movie" and that is damn good enough.

Describing the plot of "Blazing Saddles" would be insane because I am not sure there is much of one. Bart (Cleavon Little) is a railroad worker who is forced, along with his crew, to sing the stereotypical song, "Swing Low, Sweet Chariot" to appease some bigoted white men. The joke is they sing something else which doesn't appeal the white folks. Eventually, Bart is made sheriff of Rock Ridge due to a scheme by Attorney General Hedley Lamarr (Harvey Korman) so he can clear out the town (after all, in the Old West, who would want a black sheriff?) The scheme involves building a railroad through Rock Ridge and making a profit. With the help of womanizing, corrupt-to-the-core Governor William J. LePetomaine (Mel Brooks), this should be a cinch. Of course, the townsfolk eventually embrace Bart and his sidekick, the fastest gunfighter in the world, the Waco Kid (Gene Wilder).
At the time "Blazing Saddles" was readying for release, some studio execs scoffed at the racial epithets and the scatalogical humor, namely the famous farting in the campfire scene (and what would you do if you ate baked beans?) It is fascinating that Mel Brooks, who had final cut, got away with what he had. Today's audiences may not be receptive to the racial epithets, but who knows.

"Blazing Saddles" has some classic gags and some moments that will make you go, "huh?" One background gag includes a painting of a wedded couple with their backs turned in Korman's office. As my wife suggested, perhaps this was meant for a punchline that was never filmed. The ending initially left me perplexed years back - the camera pulls back to reveal that the whole movie is made in the Hollywood backlot followed by a tapdance number - and then I realized my counterproductive complaint. When Bart rides into town, Count Basie is playing with his orchestra. And there is a Warner Bros. wink to the Old Looney Tunes cartoons involving a candygram. This whole movie is not meant to just parody westerns - it is Mel Brooks searching for every hook, line and sinker to make us laugh at anything he throws at us. My absolute favorite moment is when the stupid, childlike Mongo (Alex Karras) punches a horse. And I adore Madeline Kahn's wonderful imitation of Marlene Dietrich singing "I'm Tired" (a song created for the film).

There is much to enjoy in "Blazing Saddles," including all the potshots taken at racist white people who are incredibly dumb in this film. I loved the chemistry between Cleavon Little and Gene Wilder, who are as engaging and fun to watch together as almost anything else they have ever done. For every gag that works, there is at least one that misfires (the Native American confronting a black family in a carriage is flat). Harvey Korman can also be a bit much at times and I will never understand the appeal of Dom DeLuise. Still, a frantic comedy of bad manners and bad form is all one should expect from Mel Brooks.

Dracula dead and buried in Venice

NOSFERATU IN VENICE (1988)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

I will do anything for a buck

The greatest vampire film I have ever seen was Werner Herzog's masterful remake of F.W. Murnau's 1922 classic "Nosferatu," which starred the grandly theatric Klaus Kinski as the rat-like Dracula (the silent film starred the creepy menace of Max Schreck). The remake was a triumph of atmospheric decay and melancholy mood, a tragic tale of a Dracula who wanted to end his suffering of living century after century. "Nosferatu in Venice" is a sequel I have heard of before, though it is not currently available on video in the United States - I managed to secure a copy through the Chiller Theater convention in New Jersey since I was anxiously curious to see it. The end result is a beautiful bore, an utterly senseless sequel with no significant purpose for its existence. The late Klaus Kinski was the sort of actor who would appear in almost any kind of film no matter how awful - he was not exactly selective and probably needed the money to finance his dream project "Paganini," which I have still not seen.

Kinski returns as Nosferatu, though actually referred to as Dracula in the 1979 original (Nosferatu really means the "undead," so why is he referred to as Nosferatu?) This vampire is no longer rat-like or venomous looking - instead he resembles a lost hippie from a Grateful Dead concert with long white hair and threatening black eyes. There is some story involving Christopher Plummer as an expert on vampires who takes part in a seance to bring back Nosferatu from the dead! Why??? Not sure. Donald Pleasance appears occasionally as some bickering holy priest, and there are lots of terrific, nocturnal shots of the streets of Venice (seemingly unoccupied) and some gypsies who hail the name of Nosferatu, not to mention a ballroom full of people dancing with Venetian masks. Oh, we also see a tomb that is locked by iron straps where some creature resides, ready to pounce.

Nothing in "Nosferatu in Venice" makes much sense, though the central theme seems to be that the vampire wants the blood of a virgin so he can remain dead forever - he is still in desperation to die but continues to torment female victims on the streets of Venice. And there are some briefly erotic, almost softly pornographic sex scenes between Kinski and the virgin and some other woman who may be the reincarnation of a lost love. Maybe...who knows since there is no real clarification of who any of these people are.

For gore fans, there are two scenes of impalement on a courtyard fence, and some fang work on female necks with blood gushing from their wounds. For those who favored the atmosphere of the original, there are some murky shots of Venice and a final scene of the vampire carrying a naked woman in long shot while birds fly through the air. Other than that, this film is silly, hardly terrifying, and contains distracting synthesizer music - Plummer is the sole saving grace with his wonderful, commanding voice.

"Nosferatu in Venice" is hardly the worst of the vampire flicks, but it serves little purpose as a sequel or as a vampire flick. Credited with three directors (no Herzog this time out), this is just another cheaply-made horror flick out for a fast buck.

Footnote: The video version I saw contained Japanese subtitles, which are a distraction, and the voices of the Italian actors seemed to have been dubbed whereas Plummer and Pleasance are obviously speaking in their native tongue.

Don't call me Junior!

INDIANA JONES AND THE LAST CRUSADE (1989)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

The third time's the charm in the last entry of the wonderful "Indiana Jones" series. Although it is essentially a recap of "Raiders of the Lost Ark" using Nazis again as villains, it is also the official sequel to "Raiders," taking atmosphere that restrains itself from being as over-the-top as "Temple of Doom" place two years later after the original. It also has a comforting, relaxing of humor and provides more depth on Indiana than the last two did. But do not fret, "Last Crusade" is chock full of action scenes and plenty of derring-do. 

This time, Indiana Jones (Harrison Ford, aging very gracefully) is in pursuit of the Holy Grail, the cup that Jesus Christ drank from at the Last Supper. A millionaire named Walter Donovan (Julian Glover) wants to acquire the Grail before anyone else does and suggests that Indiana find it. Indiana, being the resourceful adventurer and archaeologist, senses that his father (Sean Connery), an expert on Grail mythology, is the more appropriate choice. Unfortunately, Indy's father is already on the search and is missing, which means that Indy not only has to find his father but also the Grail. Accompanying Indy on his first stop in this journey to Venice is Indy's mentor, Marcus (the late Denholm Elliott), and a typically beautiful art historian, Dr. Elsa Schneider (Alison Doody). Lots of chaos ensues as well as wall-to-wall action scenes in motorboats, planes, motorcycles, zeppelins, tanks, horses, and so on. The film, as directed by Steven Spielberg, juxtaposes all these scenes with moments of pure comic relief and enough moments of pause and reflection before embarking on yet another dazzling action sequence. One inspired moment has Indy confronting Adolf Hitler, a scene that is hilarious and eerie in a strange way (apparently, there was a deleted scene where a Leni Riefenstahl filmmaker is shooting footage of the burning of books in a Nazi rally).

It is remarkable that after two movies, "Last Crusade" still finds something innovative and fresh in situations that are as cliched as romantic kisses before a fade out. For example, a typically sorry bit involving a revolving wall is punctuated by tightly edited action and some burst of humor, like using an Adolf Hitler head statue to block the revolving wall from letting Nazis enter (Groucho Marx would've been proud of such a moment). A motorcycle chase is handled with finesse when it turns into a jousting tournament. A plane ready to fire at its heroes on a beach is demolished by flying geese (thanks to a quote from Charlemagne). Another plane nearly explodes when its wings fall apart entering a tunnel where the heroes are being chased in a car. The climactic tank chase is especially good, though it does seem to run out of steam after a while until it ends with...well, just see the movie. Oh, yes, and the zeppelin sequence has a one-liner by Ford that remains something of a classic (Kevin Smith paid homage to the line in "Dogma".) In addition, there is a clever opening sequence introducing the late River Phoenix as a young Indy, a Boy Scout in Utah, who is pursued for robbing an artifact from looters. All of Indy's trademarks are exploited and explained. 

It was a blessing to cast Sean Connery as Indiana's father, Dr. Henry Jones, a highly private professor who is amazed at his son's ingenuity of getting out of one scrap after another. This also serves a more historical note in cinema in that Connery used to play James Bond, who is the true sire of Indiana Jones (lest we forget that Spielberg initially wanted to make a Bond movie before George Lucas introduced an idea about an archaeologist). Connery and Ford have the right chemistry and their bickering and shouting results in a newfound respect for one another (Indy's father has mostly been estranged).

The villains are nastily evil, as always, yet none come close to the great villain Belloq from "Raiders of the Lost Ark." He had a charm and humanity that is unrivaled, particularly when wooing Karen Allen's Marion, Indy's original leading lady. Here, we have Michael Byrne as Vogel, a Nazi commandant who certainly has a hardened evil streak within but is mostly a cartoonish variation on his similar role in "Force 10 From Navarone," which also starred Ford. There is one other villain but it would be a spoiler to reveal who he is.

Alison Doody has charisma to spare as the good doctor with a few cards up her sleeve, but she is a disappointment when compared to Karen Allen's feistiness. She is a major improvement on Kate Capshaw's whiny love interest in "Temple of Doom" if only because she does not scream every two minutes.

"Raiders" returnees Denholm Elliott and John Rhys-Davies bring back their roles with equal relish and delight (though I wonder why Marcus is turned into such a clumsy fool since not a hint of that was suggested in "Raiders"). There is also a nod to "Raiders" when Indiana and Dr. Schneider are in the catacombs of Venice and find a familiar illustration on the wall:

Indy: "It's the Ark of the Covenant." 

Elsa: "Are you sure?"

Indy: "Pretty sure." 

"Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade" is a more mature, character-driven, less wildly over-the-top entry in the series. It is lots of fun and often magical in its continuingly affectionate tribute to the serials of yesteryear. The action is still intense and surprising, thanks to Steven Spielberg's assured and strenuous direction but it is not as thrillingly manic and ghoulish or as thunderously escapist as the earlier films. Spielberg reportedly scaled back the action and the violence as a response to parents' who were horrified by the grimmer-than-expected tricks of "Temple of Doom" (this is also evidenced by the lighter tone of "Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull," 19 years later). With Ford and the lighthearted touch of Connery, the movie is quite an achievement and it packs an emotional, slightly sentimental punch. Plus, we now know where Indiana got his name from.

Spielberg whips it good

INDIANA JONES AND THE TEMPLE OF DOOM (1984)
Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

Spielberg's masterful "Raiders of the Lost Ark" was set in the year 1936. "Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom" takes place in 1935, one year before the events of "Raiders." Not that it matters because this entry retains the flavor, if not the subtlety, of the original. "Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom" remains the most exhausting action-adventure film ever made, building on one clever surprise and predicament after another and never letting up for one second. "Raiders" had momentum and moments where the audience could breathe. Spielberg goes so over-the-top that it seems we are watching a manic cartoon on overdrive where we can hardly brake for a single breath.

The film begins with an explosive opening sequence set in Shanghai that practically outdoes "Raiders" famous opening. We see Indiana dressed in a tuxedo, entering a ritzy nightclub where he meets some nefarious Chinese gangsters. Before you know it, Indiana is poisoned; seeking a vial with the antidote while evading bullets and a Chinese gong; dancers try to perform "Anything Goes" while there is chaos; there are dozens of balloons, rickshaws, and so on. It is a tense, almost spooky action sequence in that the intensity level is so high that you feel you are in a roller coaster that never ends. That is the spirit of the movie. Anyways, Indiana leaves Shanghai almost unscathed from harm with a floozy singer in tow, Willie Scott (Kate Capshaw), and a smart-mouthed Chinese kid named Short Round (Ke Huy Quan) who wears a Yankees hat. They travel by plane until they discover there are no pilots! Then we are in another tense sequence where Indiana tries to fly the plane but fails, gets an inflatable raft (!) and off we go! Before you can say "whew," our weary travelers are in India. It turns out that a small village is suffering thanks to the loss of some precious, magical stones. Of course, Indiana has to travel to a palace where the stones are kept and bring them back to the village. But isn't he a professor and shouldn't he be heading back to America?

Inside the palace, it is discovered that a secret, ancient ritual is performed where hearts are ripped out from unlucky villagers, yet they still manage to breathe! Yes, it is a gross moment among many. "Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom" has been criticized for its heavy graphic violence and intense action scenes. It was so intense that it led to the creation of the PG-13 rating (that summer saw the mean, thoroughly vicious "Gremlins" which also helped to create such a rating). "Temple of Doom" piles on the gross gags including the eating of monkey brains and oozing liquids and other disgusting creatures in every single crevice of the underground palace. There are also whippings galore, beatings aplenty, and some occasional blood and gore. Some of it is layed on so thick that Spielberg feels he may as well give it all - what the heck, audiences want the thrill-a-minute cliffhangers of "Raiders" and it is delivered ten fold. Some gags go a long way and others do shock, particularly the infamous heart-ripping scene.

Still, "Temple of Doom" is about doom, not "the temple of roses" as Spielberg once said. For thrilling action and incomparable fright, nobody can do it better than the Spielman. We have a room of collapsing walls with spikes, cavernous hideaways, mine cars, waterfalls, planes, collapsing rope bridges, chains, leather, whips, and so on. And our hero even repeats the old marksman versus the swordsman joke only this time, there is no gun!

Ford plays it straight as usual, and is more muscular than before (thanks to Body by Jake in the credits). Kate Capshaw remains a bit of a bore in the film, far too whiny and insipid to inspire much sympathy. Still, she has a few bravura moments, especially the "five minute" scene where she waits for Indiana to make love to her. She has some pizazz and comedic energy but hardly enough, and is no comparison to the feisty Karen Allen in the original. Ke Huy Quan is also a bit of a whiner but also has his inspired moments (like the Buster Keaton gag of climbing onto a mine car by using someone else's body) and a few good one-liners.

The dastardly villain is Mola Ram (Amrish Puri), the leader of a Thuggee cult who is determined to find the lost Sankara stones in the mines. He is cartoonishly evil, lacking some of the depth and personality of the Nazi villains and especially Belloq, the French archaeologist from "Raiders." Still, Mola Ram is a formidable opponent for Indy. At one point, after hearing of Mola Ram's plans to rule the world, Indiana exclaims, "What a vivid imagination." Indeed. Nice bit of trivia: Mola Ram was also a villain in the excellent "Gunga Din."

Possibly the darkest fantasy film Spielberg has ever made, "Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom" hardly has the sunny disposition of "Raiders" but it is a fierce, unrelenting often humorous action film that often parodies itself and "Raiders." Its vivid, tantalizing action scenes are so grim and of such a roller-coaster-ride mentality that it gives new meaning to the word "breathless."

Never say no to Connery

NEVER SAY NEVER AGAIN (1983)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

In 1983, after a twelve-year absence, Sean Connery returned to the role that made him famous: the suave secret spy James Bond. He returned with the smoothness and incalculable presence of the true spy hero we have all come to know and love. "Never Say Never Again" was the ironic title but, outside of Connery and one of the best damn Bond villains ever, the movie is only fitfully exciting and nowhere near as engrossing or as thrilling as Connery's earlier Bond pictures.

James Bond is now a teacher who is asked to complete a strict regiment of diet and exercise at a health farm. He has poisoned his body with too many toxins, including red meat, white bread and dry martinis. "Well, I shall cut out the white bread," says Mr. Bond. Heck, can you imagine Bond not drinking a dry martini? At the health farm, Bond gets wind of trouble when a certain Fatima Blush (Barbara Carrera) is beating the holy hell out of some poor schmoe who refuses to scan his eye! Turns out the poor schmoe is...well, if you have seen "Thunderball," you'll know this is an outright remake. Why they chose to remake "Thunderball" is beyond me (something about a contractual obligation) but the plot involves SPECTRE putting the world at ransom after stealing two nuclear missiles. They acquired these missiles thanks to the poor schmoe's fake eye that replicates The President of the United States's right eye! Bond is asked into service to spy on a key figure in this crisis, the suave Largo (Klaus Maria Brandeur), who owns a beautiful ship called "The Flying Saucer" where he can monitor his missiles and have nice conversations with dear old Blofeld (Max Von Sydow). Of course, Bond must also evade Fatima's charms and explosives, play a deadly computer game where the risks mean greater electrical shocks, survive shark attacks, do the tango with Largo's babelicious Kim Basinger, practice massage therapy, use his laser wristwatch to get out of jams, and so on.

I could say that if you have seen one Bond film, you've seen them all. The difference is that Connery's Bond brings back the charm and danger of the real superspy, the man we believed could kill without much provocation. It is the danger element that was missing from Roger Moore and Timothy Dalton's portrayals - Connery has it in spades.

To complement Connery's performance, we have the witty, sneak, mad Largo played by Brandeur. It is a performance of uncontrollable rage and genuine pathos. Look carefully at two scenes he shares with Basinger (playing the good Bond girl, Domino). One has Domino asking Largo what he would do if she left him - "I'll cut your throat," he says as he kisses her. The other tense scene has Largo giving her a priceless artifact to only then destroy it. "You are crazy," says Domino. "Yes, maybe I am," replies Largo. Brandeur and screenwriter Lorenzo Semple, Jr. bring a frightening quality to Largo - acknowledgement of one's own evil. We want him dead yet we feel pity for him. Of all the Bond villains I have seen, Brandeur's Largo may be the most memorable and the most threatening to Bond.

It would have been wonderful to bring back Desmond Llewelyn as the real expert inventor Q (this time played by Alex McCowen), having one last go at humiliating Connery's Bond with his expert knowledge of all gadgets. McCowen is fine but somehow his line deliveries are not as engaging. There is also a new Miss Moneypenny and a new Felix Leitner (interestingly played by Bernie Casey) but both actors pale in comparison to their original counterparts. Only Edward Fox has the right touch as M.

"Never Say Never Again" is not as exciting or as intriguing as Connery's earlier Bonds (the finale is awkward involving an underwater fight) but it will do for Connery fans. This is more of a relaxed action thriller than most - the perfect film to watch with a dry martini.

Martini, shaken or stirred? I don't give a damn

CASINO ROYALE (2006)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

Sean Connery epitomized the suave, killer instinct of everyone's favorite superspy, the one and only 007. Roger Moore played it for laughs with plenty of wit, as well maintaining the suavity. George Lazenby and Timothy Dalton never quite fit the role at all. Pierce Brosnan was simply a bore. But I am happy to report that Daniel Craig brings some much needed adrenaline, dry humor, intensity and killer instinct as 007 in one of the best James Bond films ever made, "Casino Royale."

Adapted from Ian Fleming's first novel, "Casino Royale" gives us a more gruff, realistic James Bond, one who is in danger of ever receiving his license to kill due to his volatile nature. At the start of the film, he kills a 00 agent who has been selling secrets. That is his second kill, the first kill is an informant. M (Judi Dench, more authoritative than ever) is reluctant to make the eager James Bond (Daniel Craig) a 00 agent. But Bond is reckless and in full control of his mission: find Le Chiffre (Mads Mikkelsen), a terrorist banker, and take his money at a high stakes poker game so that he cannot finance any more terrorist organizations, and get the girl - this time a smart, sassy treasury agent named Vesper Lynd (Eva Green). Easier said than done. This Bond is not equipped with gadgets galore - he has to use his smarts and his cunning ability to run and jump across one rooftop building after another, not to mention climbing a scaffold at a construction site and a huge crane.

Bond also does a lot more fistfighting than usual, and narrowly gets out of one scrape after another. When he isn't using his fists, he has his Walther PPK gun. When he isn't interrupted by dangerous, life-threatening circumstances while playing poker, he comforts Vesper in a shower scene that is surprisingly touching. This is a James Bond that we care about - Craig shows Bond's humanity, sensitivity and charm and his lack of grace when ordering a martini (Let's just say that Connery never went there). One ingredient missing is Bond's firsthand knowledge of all aspects of his mission; still, this is first major mission so I will let that slide. He also proves to be a lean, muscular killing machine. And the testicle torture scene is extremely tough stuff for a Bond movie (yes, even more torturous than 1989's "License to Kill"). 

As for the villain, we have Le Chiffre whose left eye has the occasionally tear of blood. He is not the usual world-dominating villain - simply a man who is at odds with his money and is vulnerable enough when confronting the people he owes money to. You feel sorry for the guy, something which I can't say I ever felt for Blofeld.

Directed crisply and smoothly by Martin Campbell (who also helmed "Goldeneye"), "Casino Royale" is superlative, first-class entertainment that is edgier, far more intense and more edge-of-your-seat than almost any Bond film with Sean Connery at his peak. Between foot chases and fistfights in hotel staircases and an out-of-control car chase in an airport, there is the sinking of a palazzo that has to be seen to be believed. I have enjoyed most Bond films over the last thirty years (complete with a lack of interest in any that Pierce Brosnan appeared in, aside from "Goldeneye" and "Die Another Day"). But Daniel Craig's Bond sweats bullets in this film, and so will you.

Burt Renolds wants you!

PATERNITY (1981)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

The 1970's and 80's were filled with comedies of all sizes and shapes. There were outrageous comedies of the Mel Brooks and Monty Python variety, slapstick like the unforgivable "Slapstick of Another Kind" and the more forgiving and restrained "Micki and Maude," and then there were movies like "Paternity." What is alarming about "Paternity" is that it could only have been made in the 1980's. The movie is genial and pleasing like 1982's vastly underrated "Author, Author," but, more importantly, it doesn't call attention to itself. There is good comic timing and respectable performances and some sublime moments courtesy of Burt Reynolds and Elizabeth Ashley.

Reynolds brings his easygoing charm to the screen as the manager of Madison Square Garden. He is a bachelor but he is not interested in settling down - he just wants a surrogate mother to give birth to a baby, preferably a son. There are a few candidates, including a hilarious misunderstanding with Lauren Hutton as an interior decorator, but no one satisfactory. That is until he meets a waitress (Beverly D'Angelo), who wants to go to an expensive art school in France she can't afford. Reynolds offers 50,000 dollars for her to be the surrogate mother. No mention is made of the fact that she could use the money to go to art school. In fact, Reynolds seems to hold little interest in her as anything but an "unemotional business transaction." He uses those words a lot but, since this is a romantic comedy, you can see where it is headed.

"Paternity" has a slow middle but it is occasionally entertaining and it builds on the chemistry of Reynolds and D'Angelo, who make a dynamite pair. I also found Elizabeth Ashley to be sublime in the few scenes she has where she talks about bringing up children of her own. Also look for young Peter Billingsley, before his iconic role in "A Christmas Story," as a kid who plays basketball with Reynolds.

"Paternity" is a safe, harmless date movie, and probably one of Reynolds' best roles before succumbing to the lows of "Cannonball Run" and its infinite copycats. It would make a nice double-feature with "Author, Author."