Mel Brooks' worst film - he had it coming

ROBIN HOOD: MEN IN TIGHTS (1993)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

I hated, hated, hated, and despised, despised, despised "Robin Hood: Men in Tights." I first saw it in theaters in 1993 and, despite occasional chuckles, I was deeply disappointed and felt the whole thing was a laughless affair. I saw it again recently, perhaps thinking I was unfair back then, and I am only partially right the second time around.

"Robin Hood: Men in Tights" mostly pokes fun at the Errol Flynn classic from 1938, and there are a few precious digs at the underrated "Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves." What is striking is how few gags parody the Robin Hood legend. Cary Elwes is dashing, romantic and plays Robin Hood to the hilt, wearing a feather cap and green tights just like Errol Flynn. He has fun with the part and is madly good at fencing. He plays the part straight, which is fine and expected. However, Brooks directs the film far too straightly, with only mild comic exaggerations.

Excepting future comic star Dave Chappelle and the always funny Dom DeLuise, the rest of the cast is a disaster. Richard Lewis looks and acts like a complete fool as Prince John; Amy Yasbeck plays Maid Marian far too sweetly; and Roger Rees seems to ache for an Alan Rickman impersonation as the Sheriff of Rottingham and fails miserably.

Another problem may be that many of the gags and punchlines are simply uninspired and fairly dumb, especially for someone like Mel Brooks. The Sheriff of Rottingham? A character named Ahchoo? Another character named Will Scarlett O'Hara? Are you kidding me? And there is the final scene between the Sheriff of Rottingham and a witch (Tracey Ullman) that is so badly and flatly executed, you'll wonder how a scene like that got lifted from the cutting room floor.

There are some gags that do work. I love the Robin Hood/Little John standoff scene where the bridge extends over a little puddle in a ditch. I also like the rap song of "Men in Tights." It is also a pleasure seeing Mel Brooks playing a Jewish rabbi who offers "half-off" for circumcisions (though this character plus DeLuise's Don Corleone imitation have nothing to do with Robin Hood). There is a delightful surprise of a cameo at the end that mirrors a similar cameo in "Prince of Thieves." And there is one superbly funny bit involving a movie camera as a peeping tom!

The rest of "Robin Hood: Men in Tights" is merely a blandly and monotonously staged retelling of the basic legend of Robin Hood. Sections of the film transpire without a single laugh, some with an occasional chuckle. I didn't completely hate the film but coming from the man who brought us "Young Frankenstein," "Blazing Saddles," "The Producers" and so much more, it is a major flop and still a laughless affair. I think there were better, funnier gags in Kevin Costner's "Robin Hood."

Transparent ghost story

THE FOG (1980)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

Following the coattails of "Halloween," writer-director John Carpenter delivered an atmospheric ghost story called "The Fog." What he forgot to do was inject a story of some semblance and weight. It is a ghost story all right, largely transparent.

The movie begins with John Houseman telling a campfire story to a group of kids. His tale is of a ship known as the Elizabeth Dane that shipwrecked in the town of Antonio Bay 100 years earlier. Apparently, there were lepers aboard and they were lured away by the townsfolk, causing them to crash the ship among some rocks. This was not enough for the townsfolk - they stole all the gold on board. Now it is 100 years later and something wicked this way comes. An illuminated fog bank moves in to the town that causes glass breakage, car alarms to go off, gas stations to malfunction, TV sets to turn on by themselves - in short, hysteria has moved in to the town. Nothing is explained and the next day, life moves on. Only the night before, the local priest (Hal Holbrook) finds his grandfather's journal behind a broken rock formation in his church! A local worker (Tom Atkins) picks up a wandering girl (Jamie Lee Curtis) and suddenly their car windows break! And the local deejay (Adrienne Barbeau), who works at a radio station in the lighthouse, starts seeing a fog bank settling in and then disappearing! Her son finds a coin that turns into a wooden block with a written warning!

I was definitely compelled by the first half-hour of "The Fog." But then it is all much ado about nothing. We discover there are ghosts that travel by fog and they were the lepers that were killed a century earlier. Their purpose is to kill the descendants of the town's founding fathers, the ones who stole the gold, yet they randomly kill unrelated citizens of Antonio Bay. And most of the movie centers on that endlessly glowing, rolling fog bank, and watching people prepare for the inevitable. And we get to hear Jamie Lee Curtis scream once, thanks to one of the oldest cliches in the book - a corpse toppling over from nowhere! There are the customary unseen loud knocks on wooden doors! And we get endless scenes of Adrienne Barbeau staring out into the horizon from her lighthouse, watching the fog getting closer and closer. Boo! And Janet Leigh is on hand as the mayor of the town, along with cast members from Carpenter's "Halloween" such as Nancy Loomis as Leigh's secretary/aide and Charles Cyphers as a lonely meteorologist. These actors flow in and out of the narrative without a registering an ounce of personality. Looks to me like everyone is in a foggy state of mind.

"The Fog" has all the hallmarks for a frightening ghost story, but none of the soul or the spirit. I barely cared about any of the paper-thin characters, and when Jamie Lee Curtis can't even keep me awake in a John Carpenter film, you know you're in trouble.

Rosemary, not Damien, Gone Bad

THE OMEN (2006)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

(Originally reviewed in 2006)

After seeing the remake to the classic 1976 chiller, I must wonder the obvious: what was the point? Even "Superman Returns" felt like "Superman I and 2" revisited, so what exactly does one accomplish by remaking a movie in almost the exact same way without hesitancy? One could ask Gus Van Sant that same question when he unwisely chose to remake or "recreate" "Psycho." Now Rob Zombie is doing the same with "Halloween." When will it stop?

Richard Donner's melodramatic original "Omen" was keenly aware of the evil that exists in the world, and how Damien merely embodies it. Of course, thanks to the sneaky charm and eerieness of black-haired hellraiser Harvey Stephens as the Anti-Christ in that film, Damien seemed unaware of who he was or what power he had (the character discovered it in "Damien: Omen II"). But Stephens possessed something more - an innate ability to portray evil with a smile, a wink, a simple laugh, and some frightening stares (particularly when he's staring at a church he is about to enter). And with the towering and penetrating eyes of the late Gregory Peck as Damien's father, an ambassador, and Lee Remick's wistfulness as Damien's mother, the film, though flawed, had an atmospheric power and beauty like the old Hammer horror flicks, with less emphasis on blood and gore.

This new "Omen" has all the hallmarks of the original, and includes a literal shot-by-shot redo of those bizarre murders perpetrated against those who reveal Damien's actual identity. This film is also desaturated with grimy colors and lots of overcast skies (well, nothing should be too sunny and cheery in the world of "The Omen"). The script is practically lifted from the original as well (I love that cinematic line: "He will lead a life in the world of politics"). But frankly, there is not much more. I do not mind a remake as long as it is improved upon, and there is not much improvement here. The film is squandered by lacking a real dramatic push in the narrative - there is not much urgency. The only urgency is supplied by an offensive opening scene where the Pope and other members of the congregation discuss images of tragedies post-9/11, including tsunamis, Hurricane Katrina and a brief allusion to 9/11. I am no prude but I think it is unnecessary to bring up recent tragedies to stir interest in the coming of the Anti-Christ. Isn't it enough that some child bears the tattoo 666 and could be the son of Satan? Or were the filmmakers inspired by Pat Robertson and the late Jerry Falwell?

Speaking of other inanities, there is the bloodless Seamus Davey-Fitzpatrick as the black-haired Damien who seems ready to smile at the most inappropriate moments. Liev Schreiber in the Peck role isn't badly cast but he doesn't show the determination or will to make things right - someone like Liam Neeson might've been a better choice. Same with Julia Stiles as Damien's mother - she seems completely miscast and indifferent when compared to Remick.

There is one performance that rises above this remake. It is Mia Farrow in the role of the devilish nanny. Her smile and demeanor reminds me of Rosemary Gone Bad. In fact, I'd pay to see a sequel to "Rosemary's Baby" with Farrow reprising one of her most famous roles. There's truly something diabolical about her in this role - something that "The Omen" should've been infused with.

Deadpan, absurdist=Wes Anderson

THE LIFE AQUATIC WITH STEVEN ZISSOU (2004)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

I can't believe it. Wunderkind Wes Anderson has done it again. "Bottle Rocket" and "Rushmore" were terrifically rich, spicy Wes Anderson comedies. Then came "The Royal Tenenbaums," a far richer tapestry of black humored situations crossed with a character study of dysfunctional families. Those who might have been put off by the latter's dark tone will revel in the truly hysterical "The Life Aquatic With Steven Zissou," which is as delightful as any comedy I've seen in 2004. To describe it would not do it justice - it is something to experience - but I'll do my best.

Bearded Bill Murray plays the 53-year-old Steven Zissou, an oceanographer, filmmaker and something of a pothead. He has his own ship in dire need of repairs called the "Belafonte," which comes equipped with a yellow submarine. Zissou has gone on expeditions searching for different fish species and filmed them. He has a full crew, including a topless script girl (Robyn Cohen), the anxious German Klaus (Willem Dafoe), a producer named Oseary Drakoulias (Michael Gambon), a guy named Pele who plays the guitar and sings David Bowie songs in Portuguese, and a pair of dolphin guides whom Zissou thinks are less than intelligent. Zissou is world renown but his documentary films are unpopular (they have titles like "The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou, Part I"). At a red-carpeted screening, the audience has no emotional reaction to a real on-screen death. The tragic death is none other than Zissou's French buddy, Esteban du Plantier (Seymour Cassel), who is eaten by a Jaguar Shark! So Zissou's mission is to drag his crew through dangerous waters, confront the shark, kill it and film it as part of his next documentary. But this is no ordinary revenge story. 

Along for the ride is a pregnant reporter, Jane Winslet-Richardson (Cate Blanchett), who is eager to interview Zissou for a cover story. She is easily intimidated by Zissou and even cries at his dismissal of his own achievements and of her lack of reporting skills. Also on board is Zissou's allegedly illegitimate son, Ned Plimpton (Owen Wilson), who is an air pilot for Air Kentucky. Ned continuously reminds Zissou that he had written letters to his fan club since he was a kid - is this Ned just an obsessed fan or is he really his son? Zissou is so taken with Ned that he makes him part of the crew, despite the objections of Klaus who sees Zissou as some sort of father figure. Oh, and I shouldn't leave out Eleanor, Zissou's wife (Anjelica Huston), who feels like she doesn't belong to anything except the house she lives on in a private island. There is also cult favorite Bud Cort as the geeky bond stooge.

I am not sure how to describe the effect of "The Life Aquatic" because its charms are so subtle and so minute that it will take more than patience to sit through it. Wes Anderson's films are an acquired taste - either you go with the flow or you'll be submerged in prototypically strange waters. I get his work and am totally attuned to it. His low-key humor and lower-keyed jokes and sight gags are more illuminating than half the Hollywood comedies that need to spell everything out. In the world of this movie, we see pastel-colored fish, angry Filipino pirates, a semi-gay Jeff Goldblum as a rival oceanographer who has an espresso machine, a sleeping vessel attached to the ship where all oceanic wildlife can be seen and admired, glowing jellyfish that wash up on the shore, and so on. Like I said, either you find this funny in terms of how it is set up and delivered, or you don't.

Bill Murray is pitch-perfect as Steve Zissou, accentuating the character's body language and ridiculous attire so well that you forget how absurd it really is. He is often seen wearing a red wool cap and his light blue work clothes, as is most of his crew. Murray brings his dialogue alive with his deadpan comic timing - my favorite scene, among many, is when he walks to every room in his ship while arguing with Ned over his love for Jane, the reporter, who of course has a thing for Ned. What is wonderful about this scene is that the ship looks like a set with the frontal walls cut off, and to hear Murray saying lines like, "Go to bed, you sons of bitches," is to see the extent of the absurdity of the material. What Murray also conveys is Steve Zissou's tiredness - he is tired of his long, waning career and wants to feel a smidgeon of affection again. Ned may be his own salvation. It is further proof that Bill Murray is one of our most underrated actors - check out his scene in the hot air balloon with Cate Blanchett and you'll see what I mean.

Owen Wilson can typically annoy me but his depiction of Ned is truly magnificent. I felt something for Wilson because he shows his hurt and pain for being neglected without making it too obvious - more often, it is reflected in his nearly stoic line readings. And when Steve Zissou fears he is losing him, we feel the genuine pathos between the two. Ned simply wants to be accepted, and wants an admission of his supposed father's guilt over being unacknowledged. All I can say is Wilson does his best work ever - again, the line readings do him justice and he shares solid, magical screen time with Murray.

Cate Blanchett is somewhat wasted as Jane, though she seems to perk up whenever she's on screen with Murray. Willem Dafoe is a bit of a disappointment, if only because I wish there was more of him. Same with the terminally and criminally short appearance by Seymour Cassel, an actor who is worthy of so much more in a Wes Anderson flick.

"The Life Aquatic" is not as great as "Royal Tenenbaums" but how could it be? It is always uniquely funny, charming to the nth degree and full of pathos. There is emotion in there, not just on the surface. Think of  Wes Anderson as our latter-day Hal Ashby - exploring odd ennui with black humor and poignancy. This is something to rejoice about in American cinema, not something to turn away from.

We need help

THE ROYAL TENENBAUMS (2001)

 Reviewed by Jerry Saravia
(on my list of ten best of 2000 decade)

Understatement is not appreciated much in mainstream America, especially in comedies. It is not enough, for example, for young audiences to chuckle nowadays - they need flatulence and gross-out gags of the "American Pie" variety to laugh. Wit has been replaced by in-your-face gags designed to make you puke. If that is what you love, you know who you are. "Royal Tenenbaums" is a sophisticated, dryly witty, refreshingly understated cinematic miracle in an age where there are so few of its kind. But let me warn you: it is not easy to like or digest because it is so outrageous and morose a film that you may be inclined to walk out of the theater. Do not attempt this or you'll miss out on what is surely a revelatory experience.

Gene Hackman (in one of his finest character roles) plays Royal Tenenbaum, a former litigator who served time in prison and has lived in a hotel on credit for more than twenty years. He is eventually kicked out of the hotel along with his dutiful servant, Pagoda (Kumar Pallana). Royal is a royal pain in the butt, to say the least. He is the estranged father of three prodigal kids who have grown into unhappy, unfulfilled folks. Royal abandoned the kids and his wife, Etheline (Anjelica Huston), and was practically shut out of their lives for seven years after making Margot's birthday party a bust.

The clan of the Royal Tenenbaums might qualify for anti-depressant medication. There is the adopted, morose Margot (Gwyneth Paltrow), a celebrated playwright who is so unhappily married to her husband, Reginald St. Clair (Bill Murray), a scientist, that she spends her time locked in the bathroom with a mini television tied to a radiator. Then there is Chas (Ben Stiller), a frenetic, loopy real-estate dealer whiz who practices fire drills with his two sons ever since his wife died in a fire. Finally, there is the former tennis champion, Richie (Luke Wilson), who sails around the world and dreams of his love for his adopted sister Margot.

In smaller, sharply written roles, there is Danny Glover as Henry Sherman who proposes to Etheline, Owen Wilson as the best-selling novelist of revisionist Westerns who feels connected to the Tenenbaums if only because he is a neighbor, the bellboy Dusty (Seymour Cassel) who pretends to be a doctor rather convincingly, and the aforementioned Pagoda, who once stabbed Royal to save him from himself.

"The Royal Tenenbaums" works on your nerves because the characters are all such emotional wrecks that it makes it hard to endure their existence. Writer-director Wes Anderson ("Rushmore") has not made an outrageous satire by throwing gags left and right with extreme bluntness. Instead, he tones it down, minimizes the exaggeration, and relies on such suggestive twists in his characters that you may not catch all the jokes and puns (I know I had missed a few). Anderson does something far more inspired than creating an ordinary comedy about a dysfunctional family - he makes it hard to know when to laugh or to be sad at the plight of his characters. For a comedy, that can be the kiss of death because it is unlikely to appeal to everyone. Some may mistake it for being too serious or not comedic or droll enough, or not particularly engaging enough to put up with such unlikable eccentrics.

The trick with any film is to make us empathize with the characters, to see their humanity and feel the sadness and joy of their lives. The empathy is tougher to digest in Anderson's world - all his characters refuse to acknowledge their flaws and thus it is frustrating enough to make you wince with pain. You may understand where they are coming from but you may not care because the emotional release is so purposely lacking in the film. And, amazingly enough, I was engaged by Anderson's storytelling and in-depth characterizations that it almost did not matter much whether I cared about them or not. In fact, by the end of the film and much to my surprise, I felt tremendous sympathy for the family, knowing that whatever separates them and angers them, they can still pull together and move on. Two characters admit by the end of the film that they need help.

I cannot imagine a more aptly cast of actors for this film - the wrong actors would have yielded a disaster even under Anderson's hands. Gene Hackman is simply tone perfect as the screwed-up patriarch who is willing to acknowledge his mistakes and wishes to find his way back into the family - they could care less and will not admit to their own mistakes. Anjelica Huston, one of the grand dames of cinema, excels as the emotionally defunct Etheline. Gwyneth Paltrow has such a sad-eyed clown face of despair as Margot that her role will leave you reeling with emotion - a tragedy mask that slowly unveils the hurt and the pain. The two Wilson brothers are also at their best, brimming with the right balance of pain and regret and humor (look at the hilarious footage of Owen Wilson at his last tennis match, throwing his racket to the winds. Contrast that with Wilson in a violent scene in a bathroom and you'll see how smoothly Anderson handles these transitions).

So is "The Royal Tenenbaums" a comedy or a black comedy or what the heck is it? I can't say for sure. I would say it is genre-bending, neither falling too easily in the comedy genre or the dramatic genre. It is comedy and drama but I'd see it another way - it is about pain and repressed emotional energy in a dysfunctional family that has a tough time loving each other. It is a tale told in wicked, blackly comic strokes and, as some critics have pointed out, brings to mind the brilliant author J.D. Salinger. "Royal Tenenbaums" is an original.

Endless, pseudo-spiritual journey

THE DARJEELING LIMITED (2007)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

I don't know how this could happen but I suppose every director has their bad days. It is a shame to report that "The Darjeeling Limited," though exquisitely made, is a mildly repetitious, uneven pseudo-spiritual journey that never quite finds its footing. It is a major, endless chore to sit through.

Three brothers, Francis, Jack, Peter (Owen Wilson, Jason Schwartzman and Adrien Brody), are traveling on the Darjeeling Limited, a train headed to India. There, they hope to find spiritual enlightenment and some peace of mind. Let's hope so since Francis had been in a bad accident and is covered with bandages, and Peter has found out that his wife is pregnant.

Things go awry from the start. No smoking is allowed on this train, so they keep their windows open. Peter has the bright idea to buy a deadly, poisonous snake and bring it on board the train, only to lose the snake! Rita (Amara Karan), one of the stewardesses, has a brief romp in the hay with Jack, who is going through a bad relationship of his own. Most of the time we hear them squabbling and bickering but only in that Wes Anderson offbeat manner where every word is uttered with a low-keyed whisper. It is a terrific technique and one of the reasons why I enjoy Wes Anderson's films.

Unfortunately, when the three brothers arrive in India, the movie sinks fast and becomes something of a bore. The Darjeeling Limited footage is so funny and so deadpan that it feels like vintage Anderson. But this trip to India involves a small tragedy and there is a linkage to the funeral of the brothers' father that is awkward and offputting. The brothers eventually meet their mother (Anjelica Huston, always a delight to watch) but, by then, this movie becomes soporific and monotonous. The brothers sit by the fire, do some spiritual dancing for extremely long stretches of film time and essentially bicker and argue, only the offbeat nature is suddenly gone. There is nothing tangible to hang onto and the characters, who were lively and animated at first, become insufferable and unendurable. And director Anderson's constant camera whip-pans, Francis endless questioning of why each of his brothers are using the phone, the importance of an expensive belt that keeps switching from one set of pants to the other and other ad infinitum gags almost made me gag and give up on the movie.

I have loved all of Wes Anderson's films, and I felt the approach between black comedy and tragedy was sublimely handled in "The Royal Tenenbaums," his best film. "Darjeeling Limited" opts for something similar in its structure but it fails to match the upbeat first half of the movie. I suspect that Wes Anderson is tone deaf on this one.

Wes Anderson's blast-off debut

BOTTLE ROCKET (1996)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

(originally reviewed in 1997)

How many more movies about Generation X-er's who embark on a life of crime by becoming bank robbers do we need to see? This is a tale told by many, signifying very little. "Bottle Rocket" could have been the same kind of movie but it has a warmth and an offbeat sense of humor (reminiscent of "The Brothers McMullen") that makes it a cut above the rest.

The film stars Owen C. Wilson as Dignan, a young brash man with a blonde crewcut who believes the only way to make an honest living is by robbing banks. He tries to form a team with the help of Anthony (Luke Wilson), who just got released from a mental hospital, and a greasy-haired rich kid named Bob Mapplethorpe (Robert Musgrave) who will drive the getaway car because he's the only one who drives. Together this trio successfully rob a department store and celebrate...by going to a cheap motel.

Money is still a little tight, and tension starts to mount. Anthony falls in love with a Spanish motel housekeeper (Lumi Cavazos, whom you might recognize from "Like Water for Chocolate"), and worrisome Bob is concerned over his brother's arrest so he splits with the car leaving the others stranded. Dignan and Anthony go their separate ways until Dignan gets the bright idea of joining a gang of thieves, led by the crime kingpin, Mr. Henry (James Caan). The threesome pair up again for yet another heist.

"Bottle Rocket" could be just another movie about troubled twentysomethings who find that crime doesn't pay, but it is far more ambitious than that. There is a certain genial tone delivered by the quirky dialogue that makes it original and clever. The performances help tremendously. Owen C. Wilson is sharp and sincere in his film debut as the naive Dignan who plans out the next fifty years of his life and his small group of thieves - he reminds me of a younger, less buffoonish Dennis Hopper. Luke Wilson plays his role fairly straight as a typically lackadaisical Generation X-er who finds himself in love with the pretty housekeeper - Wilson and the charming Cavazos have sparkling chemistry. Robert Musgrave is engagingly frustrating as Bob. He has a lot of terrific moments where he fiddles with a gun during the planning of a robbery, and one wonderful scene where he talks about his brother's troubles. James Caan seems to be enjoying himself for the first time in a while - I only wish there was more of him. Also noteworthy is Andrew Wilson (Owen and Luke's sibling) as Bob's older, brutish brother.

"Bottle Rocket" is not a great film but it is a fresher, funnier film than "The Brothers McMullen." Thanks to director Wes Anderson and co-writer Owen Wilson, the writing is crisp and involving, and the characters are vivid and true. I must confess that the first time I saw "Bottle Rocket," I was underwhelmed and didn't know what to make of it. The second viewing, I was overjoyed and entertained. It is a first-rate sleeper and a hell of a start for everyone involved.