Tall tales of heroin, murder and Neil Diamond

AMERICAN BOY: A PROFILE OF: STEVEN PRINCE (1978)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

Aside from Scorsese's wonderful, beguiling "Italianamerican," "American Boy" is possibly Scorsese's finest documentary - a fiercely alive film with a subject who is a skilled raconteur and has the face of a walking skeleton with bulging eyes who can keep you up all night with dozens of compelling stories.

Steven Prince is the central subject of Scorsese's film - a wiry, fiery coil of jittery flesh with eyes that have seen it all. Prince talks about his days having worked for producer Fred Weintraub, being a road manager for Neil Diamond, his heroin addiction, his trouble with a girl who nearly died from a drug overdose had it not been for an adrenaline needle (Tarantino fans: this is where the "Pulp Fiction" scene of Mia Wallace's near overdose came from) and, in two gripping episodes, the accidental death of a kid who got electrocuted and Prince shooting a man in self-defense at a gas station who was trying to steal tires. Opening scene sets the tone for the film as Prince arrives at his friend's house where the filming will take place (actor George Memmoli is the friend) and they wrestle like schoolyard kids. This looks staged or maybe it is not - but it has an absurdity to it and resembles a story Steven Prince might tell later in life of how he was late to the making of a movie about his own life!

What is riveting about "American Boy" is that the tales Prince tells are horrifying and funny - he is so damn good a storyteller that the stories put very clear, precise pictures in your mind of what he went through. Sometimes there are anecdotes such as Prince's unwillingness to answer a question about his homosexuality to a military personnel - when he does give the answer that he had "latent homosexual tendencies," he is registered as a 4F (unfit for military service to the rest of you). Another anecdote about his addiction to heroin that resulted him in ingesting the drug every 4 hours to coincide with purposely 4-hour connecting flights while being Neil Diamond's road manager is hysterical.

Some of you Scorsese fans will probably recognize Steven Prince as Easy Andy, a gun salesman in the film "Taxi Driver." But what is especially wonderful and captivating about "American Boy" is how intimate the film is, even having scenes where Scorsese himself and Prince share the same shot while Scorsese asks questions (this is also true of Scorsese's "Italianamerican," "Public Speaking" and "The Last Waltz"). Last scene has Scorsese insisting that Prince repeat a story about his dying father three times. By the third time, he is no longer a skilled raconteur at work, pleasing his audience of friends and cronies. No, by then, he is a sad little American Boy.

He NAILED IT!

SICK: THE LIFE AND DEATH OF BOB FLANAGAN, SUPERMASOCHIST (1997)

Reviewed By Jerry Saravia

"Sick: The Life and Death of Bob Flanagan, Supermasochist" is the most disturbing, nauseating documentary ever made about a man who I am grateful to have never met in person. This film is probably the closest you'll ever want to get to such a freak with a predilection for pain; a man with a debilitatingly painful disease who needs more pain to endure his own.

Bob Flanagan is indeed a supermasochist. From an early age, he was diagnosed with cystic fibrosis, a disease that causes the lungs to fill with phlegm and mucus. Most people who are diagnosed with such a disease die at an early age, some reach the age of twenty-four. Bob lived to be forty-three, the longest-known survivor of cystic fibrosis. His way of enduring such a disease was to punish his own body - to show God that he can do worse things to himself than the disease He had wrought upon him! Bob becomes a member of an S & M club where he chooses different torturous techniques such as stitches, nails, steel balls, and the list goes on. There's a truly unwatchable moment where he nails his penis to a wooden board!

The main impetus of the film is Bob's own masochistic relationship with his girlfriend of fifteen years, Sheree Rose, a dominatrix. He agrees to be her slave, and she takes full advantage of his submissive behavior. Whenever he wanted to have sex, he would have to write about in his journal, at Sheree's insistence, or there would be no sex. Bob Flanagan is a noted performance artist and writer, and his masochistic rituals through video installations have become well known in most art communities. In essence, his body has become a decorative sculpture for others to look at, e.g., "Bob and Sheree's Contract" where Sheree carves an S into Bob' chest. Bob even inspires a teenage girl from the Make-a-Wish Foundation, also diagnosed with cystic fibrosis, to meet him and...start some piercing. Sheree privately admits to Bob that maybe the girl's supposed fantasies should be fulfilled.

"Sick" won Best Documentary at the 1997 Sundance Film Festival, and it is the most honest documentary I've ever seen. The irony is that its uncompromising honesty is its main fault: we never get to know Bob as well as we should. Here's a man who says that the masochism and body modification were a way of containing the disease, but he never truly explains how. Why is the agonizing pain of masochism (he deeply feels it in many scenes pleading Sheree to stop) a method of relieving his own pain? And how does any of this constitute as art, or his need to be viewed as an "art object"? The film's best, most powerful scene is when a bloated Bob is nearing the end of his disease, and Sheree wonders why he will not submit to her. This scene, however, says more about their dependent relationship than anything about Bob's personal nature.

"Sick" is certainly fascinating and involving, but it never truly reveals anything about Bob Flanagan, or offer any insights into his behavior. Instead, we get a major dose of "shockarama," and some slight tidbits on Bob's family and his needy relationship with Sheree, but not much else. "Sick" is occasionally haunting, elegiac and lurid, but it says nothing more about this supermasochist other than that he is sick.

The Lovable Ape climbs WTC

KING KONG (1976)

Reviewed By Jerry Saravia

  1933's "King Kong" contains some bad acting, cruddy dialogue and shapeless characters. But what it does right is contain a level of adventure and sense of escapism, and it has the cinema's favorite giant ape beautifully animated as a puppet by the amazing Willis O'Brien. The love story, or was there one really in hindsight, between the ape and the blonde American girl is nonexistent and the movie is slightly confused about whether we should root for the ape or hope the beast is killed. 1976's lavish, equally silly and slightly campy version of "King Kong" doesn't make that mistake - we side with and root for the ape because he cares for the girl. Although it is clear the silverback gorilla didn't want to hurt the girl in the 1930's, it is abundantly clear that he loves her in this version, and it is much clearer in the 2005 Peter Jackson remake that followed.

There is not much plot in this film - it is a serviceable, connect-the-dots storyline. The giant ape is somewhere on Skull Island. A crew is assembled by an aspiring megalomaniac and greedy Petrox Oil executive (Charles Grodin) who is interested in finding oil and is certain that it exists in this island off the Indian Ocean, until an anthropologist (Jeff Bridges) is more interested in the rumored prehistoric creature on that island. There is also Dwan (Jessica Lange), an actress who is brought aboard after being found in a raft unconscious. Eventually, we are in Skull Island which is full of stereotypical natives who desire the blonde woman - she can be used as bait for Kong. Kong (Rick Baker, dressed as an ape) appears, takes the screaming girl, fights pythons (though disappointingly few others prehistoric creatures) and is gassed and transported back to New York City to use as a sideshow attraction. You know the rest.

Kong is the most impressive facet of this movie and gives the best performance. Baker does a stunning job of making Kong real and is able to facilitate a wide array of expressions - when he snarls and pounds his chest, we are awed. Though this is essentially a man dressed in a gorilla suit, one does miss the herky-jerkiness of those antiquated special-effects that made Kong tactile back in the day. Today, or even in 1976, audiences wanted reality and CGI post-"Jurassic Park" makes that reality real. CGI was not around in 1976 and just as well - Kong is a convincingly vivid, living breathing creature and that is good enough for me (Jackson's creation is twice the marvel to witness and possibly the most realistic depiction of a giant gorilla in film history).

"King Kong" also boasts a memorable music score by John Barry, fine special-effects and the ending is far more tragic than the original. Unfortunately, sandwiched in between all the good stuff are the characters and they do not bear as much scrutiny or personality. Grodin is a one-dimensional businessman who turns into a one-dimensional villain. Jeff Bridges barely exists as nothing more than an occasionally irate puppy dog (his long hair and beard cover up all his best features). Jessica Lange is a good screamer and cries on cue but her character is nothing much to work with (she clearly went on to better things).

"King Kong" has some elements that improve on the original (the ape's emoting, the love story) and does nothing to improve the original's slimly developed characters. I like this version overall (I had seen it in theaters back in the day) but, deep down, I feel for the original O'Brien Kong.

Joaquin Phoenix's froggy brains

I'M STILL HERE (2010)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

Joaquin Phoenix is still around. Thankfully, his hip-hop music career is not. The joke is clear from the first minute Phoenix is seen walking around in a hoodie outside of his home, contemplating his existence as an actor who has to commit to other people's visions, and not his own. Say what? That is where the joke begins because if he really believed that, he would not attend a Paul Newman tribute where he performs in some vignettes with other fellow actors. It is at this event where Phoenix tells a reporter that he is retiring from acting. The fact that Joaquin doesn't consult his agent or publicist before making such a dreadful mistake will remind some of Johnny Carson's swift, abrupt announcement about his retirement from "The Tonight Show."

"I'm Still Here" is a pathetic, lumbering, creepily funny film - I was in on the joke from the beginning. The beauty of the film is that it does, to a certain extent, take itself seriously enough to actually believe that Joaquin is going through a mental breakdown. He grows a beard, sports an unkempt appearance with barely washed hair, and decides to forge a hip-hop career as a singer with the supposed blessing and studio time from P. Diddy. Ugh! The lyrics are actually not a waste of time (especially when he comments on his personal assistant and long-time friend betraying him by revealing that Joaquin's new phase is a hoax) but, as a singer, he is horrible and has no rhythm. The assumption of the film is that it is Joaquin and he can do what he wants.

This mockumentary directed by Casey Affleck (Joaquin's brother-in-law; Casey is married to Summer Phoenix) is suffocating when it hovers over Joaquin's coke-sniffing, chain-smoking, foul-mouthed, sex-starved escapades (Are these scenes all made up or another joke on celebrities going thru extreme behaviors and addictions?) The film shines when Joaquin tries to convince others that his music is vital, which of course it is not. And most beguiling and darkly funny is when Joaquin sings one of his songs at a show in Vegas while being berated by someone in the audience. Joaquin reacts, jumps off stage and throws a few punches. There is something unsettling and powerfully comical about his appearance on David Letterman's show (one of Letterman's writers claimed that the late-night host was in on the hoax). I also loved the last, long take sequence where Joaquin treads through a river, as if trying to find some solace. Or is this a new Joaquin who dunks his head in the water and may later re-emerge in a new incarnation?

"I'm Still Here" is highly uneven and poorly made (perhaps purposely so) but it is edited as a near-hallucinatory take on a man who is only pretending to be suffering a crisis of conscience. Maybe he thinks this experiment into faux humiliation is art. It isn't (it has been done to death) but it is fascinating watching him try.

Albert Brooks has not lost his edge

THE MUSE (1999)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia
(Original review from 1999)

The cinema of the 1990's will be remembered for two things: Quentin Tarantino's revolutionary "Pulp Fiction" and its slew of rip-offs, and the spate of films about filmmaking. It is no surprise that since "The Player," we have become bombarded by several films about making films in many different avenues. We have seen low-budget independent filmmakers ("Living in Oblivion"), filmmaking-on-the-fringes ("My Life's In Turnaround"), bad low-budget filmmakers ("Ed Wood"), porno filmmaking ("Boogie Nights"), Hollywood filmmaking ("The Player"), mob-financed filmmaking ("Get Shorty"), low-level Hollywood filmmaking ("Bowfinger"), and so on. I greeted Albert Brooks' latest film "The Muse" with delight because of its stellar cast and because of the cynical edge of Brooks. I am happy to report that "The Muse" is among his funniest, lightest works, always tinging with delectable wit from start to finish.

Albert Brooks stars as Steven Philips, a comedy screenwriter desperate to sell his latest script after winning a humanitarian award ("It's an award you win when you don't win an Oscar."). The next day, he is anxious and meets with a stiff, humorless studio exceutive, Josh Martin (Mark Feuerstein), and is told none too subtly he's out of a job. "You've lost your edge. Take a vacation," says Martin. Steven is torn since writing for films is his life, and realizes his office will be occupied by Brian De Palma. He tries to get an idea that could reestablish him in the realm of Hollywood, as well as a steady income to help support his wife (Andie McDowell), an ambitious baker, and his two kids.

Steven finds a surprise in the form of a woman in glittery blue dresses named Sara (Sharon Stone) - she is introduced by Steve's friend Jack (Jeff Bridges), a writer. Sarah turns out be the resident Muse of La-La Land - "I...inspire!" declares Sara. Steven is faced with a barrage of responsibilities to keep Sara as his Muse. He has to rent a luxurious room at the Four Seasons Hotel for her, provide round-the-clock food and car service for her immediate needs such as a "Waldorf salad," and he must always bring a boxed trinket from Tiffany's to her. And this is all for her to provide inspiration for the struggling writer. I question a comedy writer coming up with a half-baked idea like an aquarium run by Jim Carrey, but that is of little consequence.

"The Muse" coasts along Brooks's typically cynical, neurotic edge, Sharon Stone's comic sparkle, and the relentless number of inside jokes that will tickle people from Hollywood and movie trivia buffs. There are humorous cameos by film luminaries such as James Cameron, Rob Reiner, Martin Scorsese, Jennifer Tilly, Cybill Sheperd, Lorenzo Lamas, and several others. I enjoyed Scorsese's frenetic moment when he announces he's making a remake of "Raging Bull" with a thin, angry guy. Jennifer Tilly's bit is especially cute when Brooks refers to her as a "doll like Chucky." Tilly was of course in "Bride of Chucky."

The biggest, most sensational surprise is Sharon Stone, who I always believed had a gift for comedy but was never allowed to utilize it. Outside of her small comic parts in "He Said, She Said" and "Diary of a Hitman," this marks the first time that she is allowed to sparkle in a bigger supporting role based on her ability to deliver a bouncy charm. She sports a hairdo with bobbypins, wears long blue "New Wave"-style flowing dresses, and makes do like a spoiled brat who needs to be pampered. Of course, this Muse is not all she's cracked up to be.

Brooks has great fun lampooning Hollywood and its obsessive nature towards making big bucks on big ideas. The difference is that in an era where gross humor of the "Austin Powers" variety reigns supreme, audiences are not likely to be susceptible to Brooks's low-key charm and natural evolution of character progression, or in this case, aggression. He takes his time, and still has not learned how to end a film with a major bang. Here it ends all too abruptly, as it did in "Real Life," Brooks's first film. But that is a minor carp.

I am still not clear of Brooks's point - a muse inspires a writer to choose the muse within him or herself? Can't he seek that same inspiration from his close friends or family? Unless we are led to believe that writers don't have friends in Hollywood when they are considered washed-up and edgeless.

Despite a few flaws, "The Muse" is amusing and has some showstopping laughs and one-liners along the way. Brooks is a master builder of comic setup and payoff - he knows that the art of comedy is allowing the audience to experience the buildup before the punchline, and boy, the punchlines are smartly written and pungent. Too many comedies rely on gross humor and repetitive gags left and right with no rhyme or reason. Not Brooks, and he has not lost his edge.

Monstropolis is only a closet doorknob away

MONSTERS, INC. (2001)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

Original review from 2001

I used to love animated films. "Fantasia" is still my favorite, mostly because of the psychedelic combination of classical music and images. Since then, I have not seen anything nearly as good. "Beauty and the Beast" and the "Toy Story" films come to mind, not to mention the vastly underrated "The Iron Giant." Lesser entries would include "Pocahontas" and "Aladdin" (lesser meaning not bad, just that they could have been better). "Monsters, Inc." is from Pixar Productions, the same folks who put out "Toy Story," and I can safely say it is as entertaining and colorful as I had imagined it.

The movie has the postmodernist feel that monsters that scare kids from inside closets are actually from a unique world known as Monstropolis. It is basically a factory line warehouse where closet doors from all around Earth are used by monsters where they have access to the kids's bedrooms and are prepared to frighten kids out of their minds. The aim is to make the kids scream, and the louder the scream, the more bonus points that a monster gets. The screams of children are used to keep Monstropolis alive, though lately these monsters have been slipping. Some scare more than others, including James P. Sullivan (voiced by John Goodman), a likable, blue-furried monster with the loudest roar. His pal is a one-eyed, green monster named Mike Wazowski (voiced by Billy Crystal), who mostly supervises Sullivan. One night, Sullivan happens upon a door where a human girl escapes from. He is scared but grows enamored of the giggling girl he names "Boo." Nice touch.

Unfortunately, human kids are a danger to monster society, and a decontamination team is always deployed to get rid of the kids or any of the kid's belongings like socks that could slip out and attach themselves to monsters. Sullivan and Wazowski try to hide the child from their peers, especially an evil, slithering creature named Randall Boggs (voiced by Steve Buscemi) who makes expert use of his camouflage abilities. Randall is jealous of Sullivan, who always scores highest on the monster scream-o-meter, and concocts a plot to kidnap the little girl.

It is questionable how this factory even exists in the first place, and where do those doors come from really? Where is Monstropolis in relation to Earth itself and how did the monsters acquire these doors? But those are logical questions that have no place in a film designed squarely to please the kids, complete with in-jokes and humorous asides to please the adults. And how is the animation? As superb as one can imagine and as detailed as anything I have ever seen before. But like the flat "Dinosaur" from a year ago, the movie lags a bit and lacks the creative sense of magic and fun of "Toy Story." It is not as playful as it should be, perhaps a bit too contained for its own good and doesn't have much narrative thrust - it depends more on witticisms and eye-popping special effects than any real plot.

In terms of animation, I wanted the film to break free of characters standing in rooms or hallways. Animation often works best when it is roaming free of space and time. Only at the very end do we get that sense of playfulness when Sullivan and Wazowski try to rescue the child while hanging onto the closet doors, which are all connected to steel beams.

"Monsters, Inc." is delightful for three-quarters of the way through of its 98-minute running time. It is fun, funny, fast-paced for the most part, and charming. Before the film started, they showed a preview of a Peter Pan sequel featuring the old Disney animated style that was always wondrous and magical to me. I suppose I just miss the old style.

1-800-I-Need-a-New-Satellite-Dish

TERRORVISION (1986)

Reviewed By Jerry Saravia

I love wacky horror parodies that pull no punches and carry an unbridled spirit. "Terrorvision" is a cute little cartoonish horror parody that does just that, but falls so short of exploiting a neat premise.

An ugly looking monster from outer space metamorphosizes into an electrical signal that beams its way into Stanley Putterman's cheap satellite dish. Stanley (Gerrit Graham) loves his new satellite dish that captures TV signals from around the world. His wife, Raquel (Mary Woronov, who was the memorable Miss Togar from "Rock 'n Roll High School") is annoyed when there is interference in the signal while she does her workout. Her daughter with pouffed-up candy-colored hair (Diane Franklin) is doubly annoyed when her MTV is interrupted. While Stanley and Raquel go out to find a couple to swing with, their youngest son (Chad Allen) and his crotchety, survivalist-obsessed grandfather (Bert Remsen) watch monster movies, which the eldest believes prepares people for invasion of any kind. Naturally the alien beast is lurking in their satellite dish.

What we get is a slimy alien with oozing fluids and a protruding wandering eye (looks like the same eye from "Star Wars"); a steamy swimming pool; grandpa's secret bunker, and a hilarious Jonathan Gries ("Real Genius") as O.D., the heavy metal rocker who clearly anticipates the future Bill and Ted. Most of the actors and plot elements already had me at a definite hello. Unfortunately, there is not much ingenuity or any real laughs to be found. The film runs out of gas, marking time when it focuses on the kids trying to make friends with the alien and give it junk food to consume. Grandpa exits far too soon from the picture and most of the life is drained away by terminally cumbersome characters like Medusa (Jennifer Richards), the horror hostess. The Stanley and Raquel characters are also entertaining (and it is not often that you find a swinging married couple in a movie) but their appearances are far too brief.

"Terrorvision" begins with a solid cartoonish bang (complete with wacky special-effects and obvious planet models that lend the film some charm) and it has a clever premise, but it never expands the personalities of its characters nor does it have much fun with them. Change the channel or, better yet, get a better satellite dish.