Monday, June 3, 2013

Mildly simmering neurosis

MODERN ROMANCE (1981)
Reviewed by Jerry Saravia
Albert Brooks is sort of the West Coast answer to Woody Allen. Both are paranoid men with a cynical view of romance and women, always assuming the worst. In "Modern Romance," Brooks is no different as he stresses over his on/off girlfriend.

Brooks plays a hard-working film editor, Robert Cole, who lives alone. In the opening scene, he breaks up with his girlfriend, Mary (Kathryn Harrold), incorrectly assuming they need a change. As soon as Brooks arrives home, he realizes his mistake. Cole's best friend is his associate film editor, Jay (Bruno Kirby), whom he confides in with his troubling romance and consistent Quaalude fixation. It is an on/off again relationship between Cole and Mary and Mary can't stand it anymore - does Cole want a commitment or is he too afraid? Yet he obsesses over her deeply, dropping bouquets of flowers and stuffed animals at her doorstep. His obsession gets the best of him when he dates a former acquaintance in the movie's funniest scene. Cole drops his date off at her apartment after no more than five minutes of picking her up and proceeds to go to Mary's house for a visit. To call Cole relentless wouldn't be a moot point.

"Modern Romance" has its share of laughs but Brooks's Cole character may be hard to take for most people who are not weaned on Woody Allen. His paranoiac, endlessly confused character is not likable yet he is honest and hardly egotistical. He can't seem to make up his mind over love or Mary - does he really crave her or is he in love with the idea of being in love?

The movie has a few scenes that are out of kilter with its primary focus - the male's perspective of dating in the 1980's. A scene at a sporting goods store simply marks time (though it is mildly amusing and Brooks's real-life brother plays the insistent salesman). The making of the sci-fi movie-within-the-movie is a little stale, despite the beguiling presence of George Kennedy (Brooks would later mine riffs on Hollywood with more finesse in "The Muse").

"Modern Romance" is not the great film comedy that it could've been (certainly not as good as his debut "Real Life") but it was a step in the right direction for Albert Brooks. His neurosis was only starting to simmer.

Footnote: This movie came out in 1981, a time when Quaaludes and cocaine were not considered problematic drugs. In this movie, they are taken with restraint. If this movie was released today, you can be sure that Mary and Cole would have to check into rehab. My, how times have changed.

Friday, May 31, 2013

A cocaine powdered Chevy Chase

MODERN PROBLEMS (1981)
Reviewed by Jerry Saravia
Chevy Chase has made some rotten, bottom-of-the-barrel comedies that can be accurately called stink bombs, but this "Modern Problems" takes the cake. It is so haphazardly unfunny and so obviously influenced by a cocaine high of sorts that it doesn't qualify as a movie.

Chase is an air-traffic controller who gets sprayed with nuclear waste that gives him a neon green glow. He acquires telekinesis as a result, which means he can enlarge a ballet dancer's groin or make a man's nose bleed continuously (further proof that blood gags are not automatically funny unless they are of the Monty Python variety). That is it, folks, and aside from Chase using his telekinesis to move objects or people, nothing is funnier than the ballet sequence. Chase looks bored out of his numbskull, looking depressed because his girlfriend (Patti D'Arbanville) has dumped him, and rightly so I might add. But even when they are back together and Chase makes Patti have the orgasm of her life, he still possesses the same indifference, saying that he didn't really do it, it was magic. Boo!

"Modern Problems" runs a scant 90 minutes but it takes an eternity to get to the end. For female fans of Dabney Coleman (who looks bored as well), you get a good glimpse of Coleman's buttocks. For fans of Mary Kay Place (myself included), you get one good scene she shares with Chase where they honestly talk about their past relationship. For Chase fans, you get one good gag and Chevy looking miserable. Misery loves company but I would steer clear of this mess unless you love company at any expense.

Larry ain't no wild and crazy guy

THE LONELY GUY (1984)
Reviewed by Jerry Saravia


"The Lonely Guy" is not, at first glance, anything spectacular. It is not a film that relentlessly tickles the funny bone yet it is engaging in a strange way. It is not comedic enough yet it does hit some high comic notes. It feels undernourished, yet so full. All I can say is that it is one of the stranger comedies I have seen in some time.

Steve Martin plays Larry, a guy who works for a greeting card company in New York City. He has just been dumped by his seductive girlfriend (Robyn Douglass) after finding her frolicking in their bed with another guy. Larry acts as if nothing has happened and denies her love affair. This scene is an example of the absurdist edge of the film - no one is willing to acknowledge their mistakes or flaws and it makes it difficult to sit through such insufferable characters. But Steve Martin is a goofy, likable actor and he plays the latest in the goofy, foolish, likable characters that have defined him so we gladly follow wherever his character leads us. Needless to say, Larry is kicked out of the apartment with his belongings (and he has to take out her trash to boot). He meets the balding, meek-looking Warren (Charles Grodin) who sits on a bench in Central Park - they talk about losing loved ones and how to obtain an apartment. Larry is now a Lonely Guy, and the city is full of them. First, you need a decent apartment that is not in a crime-ridden neighborhood or underwater. Secondly, ferns can be a Lonely Guy's best friend. Thirdly, if you go to a lush restaurant, you will certainly be spotlighted if you sit alone at a table. And if you call out your loved one's name on the roof of a building, you'll find other Lonely Guys shouting the names of their ex-girlfriends.

But one day, Larry meets a new woman named Iris (Judith Ivey), who spots his Lonely Guy manner immediately. Larry asks her for her phone number twice in the film and loses it. Somehow, she could be the woman of his dreams, someone who can obliterate his Lonely Guy status. Or else he'll end up jumping from the Brooklyn Bridge like all other Lonely Guys who can't stand being alone.

"The Lonely Guy" has desperate moments that ask for laughter (like the tired bit about Iris getting an orgasm every time Larry sneezes) and other moments that are nearly brilliant (the restaurant sequence and almost every scene with Grodin). But the picture also sags a bit when dealing with Iris - she loves Larry but refuses to be with someone forever she cares so deeply about. Ivey should have been played by some other actress who fits into this comedy's uneasy molding of drama and laughter. Robyn Douglass's character does (playing flirtation and seduction with ease) and knows she should not be taken too seriously. Ivey seems to have strolled in from a different film altogether.

The joy of the film is watching Martin doing his shtick - playing it for laughs by restraining himself and it is a pleasure to witness him and the excellent Charles Grodin. Plus, any film that plays Dr. Joyce Brothers and Merv Griffin for laughs can't be all that bad.

An intimate McNamara

THE FOG OF WAR: ELEVEN LESSONS FROM THE LIFE OF ROBERT S. MCNAMARA (2003)
Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

The most dangerous periods in recent U.S. history were the Cuban Missile Crisis of 1962 and the Vietnam War. The most dangerous man who almost made a grave error in judgment in Cuba (and arguably Vietnam) was former Secretary of Defense Robert S. McNamara. Some considered him arrogant, others called him brilliant. The beauty of Errol Morris's "The Fog of War" is that you have to make up your own mind of the man's character and his service.

Robert Strange McNamara was Secretary of Defense under the Kennedy and Johnson administration. This was a man who had to contend with the Cuban Missile Crisis and Vietnam, as well as make quick decisions on the right strategy of command, especially in a war that costed upwards the lives of 50,000 Americans. Russia was involved with giving Cuba up to 160 nuclear weapons. The U.S. had to decide whether or not to attack Cuba with missiles within a tense 13 day-period in October.

As for Vietnam, it was a war that shouldn't have happened considering that Kennedy was going to withdraw American troops (though it is a fact that he almost considered keeping them their as well). After Kennedy was assassinated, Johnson sent in more troops than necessary, all presumably to liberate Vietnam from a communist takeover. McNamara didn't want this war to happen, knowing firsthand how many lives could be unreasonably lost.

What's fascinating about McNamara is his acknowledgment that mistakes were made, and he learned from them (the film is broken up into 11 important lessons about war). He is astonished to later discover that Cuba really did possess several nuclear weapons. He is also mystified that no torpedoes were really deployed against "The Maddox," a U.S. destroyer in the Gulf of Tonkin, thus ensuing justification for a more rapid advancement against Vietnam. McNamara also expounds on having served in World War II and allowing the bombing raid of Tokyo, reducing that city to ashes since so many buildings and houses were made of wood (100,000 lives were lost in a single night). Through it all, we sense McNamara wished he had not taken part in decisions that he did not agree with. In a chilling moment, he admonishes the bombing of so many Japanese cities, not to mention dropping two nuclear bombs, and claims that if the U.S. did not win, they would have been branded as war criminals. He states very clearly that whether they had won or lost, it was still an immoral action.

Director Errol Morris ("The Thin Blue Line," "Mr. Death") shot this documentary using a video device called "Interrotron," which somehow allows the interview subject to make eye contact with the interviewer. What it also does is allow McNamara to look into the camera, and the audience can judge who he is more closely, more intimately. Morris does employ hundreds of jump cuts, which will drive you crazy and make you climb up the walls of the Pentagon. This distracts much of what McNamara has to say, as if every phrase spoken was a soundbite. Still, Morris makes up for it by inserting footage of a young McNamara describing his daily briefings, footage of air raids and bombings, dominoes falling into place over maps, and so on.

"The Fog of War" is the ideal documentary that is also the antithesis to Michael Moore's own docs, an unbiased focus on one man's controversial job in the machinations of war. Is McNamara a war criminal or did he just simply do his job? Should he have admitted his mistakes more readily in Vietnam? It's hard to say but the question lingers.

What is a platform?

THE CANDIDATE (1972)
Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

If Abraham Lincoln had to endure the modern political process, he surely would have lost. Today, thanks to the advent of television, a political candidate has to look good regardless of politics. Michael Ritchie's "The Candidate" is a smart, satiric view of this process, and the casting of Robert Redford is tantamount to the film's success.

A Republican conservative named Crocker Jarmon (Don Porter) is running for Senator of California, stressing family values and community relations. Redford is Bill McKay, an idealistic lawyer interested in grass roots issues and the environment. He is also the son of former governor John J. McKay (Melvyn Douglas), initially a supporter of Jarmon. Democratic campaign manager Marvin Lucas (Peter Boyle) takes an interest and a risk: he wants Bill to run for Senator as well. Lucas gets Howard Klein (Allen Garfield) to create the political ads as part of the media campaign. Everything is in place, though McKay senses how superficial it is from the onset. Lucas tells McKay that he will lose, but the ratings in the polls are getting higher than Jarmon's. This McKay looks like a movie star and he has the sincerity to persuade people to vote for him. It takes a while before he can understand the process: when asked about his platform by the press, he responds, "What is a platform?"

"The Candidate" is chock full of details about the political process. When a fire brews in a Californian forest, McKay makes a statement about the environment in a somber manner. When Jarmon arrives, he takes over full force with his charisma and his hope that families and firefighters are protected. We also see the different political ads, how they are edited and how certain phrases are dropped (it is no surprise that Lucas and company are not crazy about McKay's preaching on the environment). We also see how these politicians approach people, shaking hands with people they don't really know, and so on. There is also a character detail that is wisely not magnified: McKay's affair with a groupie. And we see how the tense Lucas handles McKay, sometimes addressing issues in bathrooms to avoid the public. There is also the general makeup of McKay's wife, dressing her up for photo shoots.

As written by political speechwriter Jeremy Larner (who won an Oscar), "The Candidate" always maintains interest in its understanding of the machinations and manipulations of the political process. Robert Redford heads the cast as the idealistic, naive lawyer who actually believes that he can make a difference, but how can he if his campaign manager and others handle him more than he ever could? His issues are not as important as how he addresses them. And when the inevitable ending occurs, we see McKay as a lost soul, realizing that he may win. The sullen look on his face and his last memorable line ("What do we do now?") shows that he is now corrupted - the media and the administration have taken over.

A superb cast (including Boyle in one of his best roles), a realistic, fully vital script and an ambiguous ending (with no clear political agenda), "The Candidate" is a reminder of how satire used to be portrayed in the movies - play it straight and with restraint and it will bite.

The race to nowhere

THE CANNONBALL RUN (1981)
Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

 I'll make this quick and easy to digest: this is a rotten film. It is so slipshod, so mangled in its camerawork and editing, so desperately unfunny that I can't quite put it any other way. The virtues of this film is singular: Burt Reynolds has his boyish charm - that's it. He proved it in "Smokey and the Bandit" and through the early part of the 1980's, he kept trying to prove it ("Stroker Ace" was the nadir of Reynolds' career, if you ask me). But boyish charm with no inner life or character to play is not exactly a stroke of cinematic genius either in these Hal Needham flicks.

The pitfalls are as follows: Dom DeLuise is grating in more ways than one, Farrah Fawcett shows she didn't fare any better than in her foolish "Charlie's Angels" series, Jackie Chan would probably rather continue his "Drunken Master" series, and Sammy Davis Jr. and Dino posing as priests might have wished they were performing in Vegas. Roger Moore and Jack Elam give the bare minimum of a story a spin. Other than that, the outtakes are much funnier. A shame it takes one hour and a half to get there.

Thursday, May 30, 2013

Barnabas Collins returns to a drab manor

DARK SHADOWS (2012)
Reviewed by Jerry Saravia
Perhaps it is high time that director Tim Burton abandon his gray misty-skies, Universal Monster backlot crossed with "Nightmare Before Christmas" atmosphere that he has only rarely abandoned ("Big Fish" and "Charlie and the Chocolate Factory" seemed to have a more crisp Burton flair for the erratic and the unknown with a different palette of colors than anything of late). "Dark Shadows" is grayish and starkly lit visual porn - it is a sumptuous feast that could only occupy the world of the supernatural and, heck, Tim Burton does it best. As a movie, it also works in spades but it lacks that emotional punch that occupies some of Burton's finest films and it is wildly inconsistent from beginning to end.

Based on the soap opera vampire show of the early 1970's, Johnny Depp is Barnabas Collins, the elegant vampire of Collinswood Manor who was cursed by a devious, sexy and exceedingly menacing witch (Eva Green, in the performance of the movie). 200 years later, Barnabas emerges from a sealed tomb buried next to McDonalds and it is the early 1970's, not the 1700's. Barnabas returns to the manor, which is slowly eroding and a wreck with certains wings closed off, and plans to help the disbelieving Collins family with their once prosperous fishing business. Naturally, there is a competitor, Angelique, who tools around in a crimson red convertible and owns Angel Bay cannery, the stiff competitor for the Collins family.

There are some supporting players in the Collins family. There is the new prim and proper governess named Victoria (Bella Heathcote); Dr. Hoffman, the family shrink (Helena Bonham Carter with an orange hairdo); the family matriarch (Michelle Pfeiffer) and her brother, Brian (a curiously boring Jonny Lee Miller); Elizabeth's rebellious, Donovan Leitch-loving daughter, Carolyn (Chloe Moretz) who wants to run away to Manhattan, and there is the other child of the house, David (Gulliver McGrath), Brian's son.

"Dark Shadows" is lively and fun whenever Barnabas and Angelique torment, fight, discuss and make love to each other. The rest of the cast looks downbeat and rather drab, including Jackie Earle Haley as the manor's handyman. Michelle Pfeiffer can ignite a movie screen with her presence but here, she is misdirected to be so devoid of any tangible characteristics, you'll wonder if her character just had one too many stiff drinks.

The movie loses focus when it seems to center on the governess, then the Collins clan, then Barnabas and so on. Aside from Barnabas and Angelique, there is no character to latch onto, to have even the most remote empathy for. Burton and his writers also have an unwieldy screenplay that plays fast and loose with tone and near satire bordering on soap opera theatrics, and concludes with a finale that blends "Edward Scissorhands" with Burton's own "Batman" version sprinkled with a dose of werewolves, sculptures that are brought to life and a ghost (I do not recall any of this in the TV show of yesteryear but, who knows, my memory might be rusty). What begins as a Jane Austen horror fable turns into a minor monster pic, and then turns the tables into satire territory, before abandoning that completely and becoming a blood-soaked love story of spurned love and back into something else. A watchable picture and often deliciously fun (Johnny Depp is animated and engaging, partly contributing to the fun factor), but also a highly uneven picture.