Citizen Kane II: Xanadu in Ruins, God, no!

CITIZEN KANE II: XANADU IN RUINS or how I wish they would leave IT'S A WONDERFUL LIFE alone

By Jerry Saravia

Not to worry, there are no plans for a "Citizen Kane II." There are plans for a sequel to "It's a Wonderful Life." Yes, the classic 1946 weeper with James Stewart and Donna Reed, the cinematic staple of every Christmas season (that and Bob Clark's "A Christmas Story"). According to Variety, "the proposed $30 million sequel still lacks a director, yet the producers have lined up 73-year old Karolyn Grimes, the actress who played Zuzu Bailey in the original, to reprise her role — though now she’ll play the angel who has to guide George’s grandson through a similar crisis. The twist: the new George Bailey is unlikeable and Aunt Zuzu shows him how much better the world would be if he’d never been born. The filmmakers are also in discussions with long-retired septuagenarian actors Jimmy Hawkins and Carol Coombs to revisit their Bailey-child characters as well. None of the three actors have been in a major film in decades."

This is not the first time that a continuation or remake of the perennial classic has been considered. Marlo Thomas appeared as a gender-reversal of Jimmy Stewart's George in a 1977 made-for-TV remake called "It Happened One Christmas." The film retained the 1940's setting, good old Bedford Falls, and featured Emmy-nominated Cloris Leachman in another gender-reversal role of the angel Clarence known as Clara Oddbody. Despite high ratings, few remember the film since it got shuffled aside in favor of the endless TV airings of the original. There was also 1990's TV-movie "Clarence" starring Robert Carradine as a more youthful Clarence helping another human, but who needs to be reminded.  

But is a sequel necessary? Definitely not. Sequels rarely work or eclipse their original counterparts so a sequel or continuation of the George Bailey saga feels unseemly and a tad sacrilegious. Perhaps the makers will have their hearts in the right place but the central Frank Capra theme of an alternate reality where the protagonist does not exist has been done to death. Everything from even a subplot of "Last Temptation to Christ" to "Back to the Future Part II" to the insufferably cute "Mr. Destiny" with Jim Belushi are just a few examples of how important the idea of one's destiny in our universe matters. I would have bought a sequel back in the late 40's or early 50's with Stewart and Reed filling in for their iconic roles, but I do not see the sense in revisiting something that was as much a staple of that era as it was universal in its themes of commitment and family values. The original film had a complete beginning, middle and end - it was airtight in its complex narrative of George Bailey's life as a banker who cared about his small town more so than himself (what a distant past that was compared to now). Was the colder, darker reality that the angel proposed to Bailey suppressed truth or pure fiction? Would Mr. Potter ever have a change of heart towards George and the citizens of Bedford Falls? Do you see now why we do not need a new chapter? Heaven forbid.

Ack, ack, ack this!

MARS ATTACKS! (1996)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

(Originally viewed in late '96)

The absolute worst is expected when a celebrated Hollywood director is given the reins to a multi-million dollar project after having helmed a small-scale cult film like "Ed Wood." I hate discussing what the budget of the film is but "Mars Attacks!" cost $80 million to make, and was expected to gross over $120 million (which it didn't) - in other words, it should have been a financial blockbuster. Truth is that when you hand the reins to a dark, twisted genius like Tim Burton, anything goes. "Mars Attacks" did not fare well at the box-office and it is just as well - it is a hilarious, witty, nihilistic satire of those old Martian invasion movies from the 40's and 50's. This is not "Independence Day." Its tongue is firmly placed in its cheek.

"Mars Attacks!" begins when a flaming herd of cattle makes its way into a typical all-American small-town - a flying saucer has just had an accidental run-in, but are they here for peace? When the Martians land in the middle of the Nevada desert to be greeted by The President of the U.S. (Jack Nicholson) and other gleeful citizens, the aliens begin blasting everything in sight. When the President decides to greet them at the White House sensing that this was all a misunderstanding, the Martian ambassador proclaims, "We come in peace." Unsurprisingly, the ambassador and his cohorts zap everyone with laser guns and burn all Congress officials into toast.

"Mars Attacks!" doesn't just end there. Burton brings on his magic bag of tricks by mocking all those alien-invasion disaster movies and adding his own bizarre sense of humor. Based on the gory Topps "Mars Attacks!" cards that were banned in the 1950's, the movie is an assemblage of in-jokes, cheeky dialogue, offbeat gags, dozens of special-effects, and sheer comic mayhem and destruction. Nearly the whole cast is demolished but it filled me with cartoonish delight to see how they are demolished. Watch Michael J. Fox melt while trying to reach for Sarah Jessica Parker's hand! See the incredible sight of a dog's head being grafted on Parker's body! The movie reads like an outrageously zany comic-book with amazing sights, indeed.

The cast is first-rate for this material. We have wicked Jack Nicholson as not only the straight arrow leader of the U.S. but also as a sleazy, leering Vegas businessman; Glenn Close as the nervous First Lady; Annette Bening as a New Age freak obsessed with meeting the Martians; Danny DeVito as an unctuous lawyer who tries to reason with them; Jim Brown as a former boxer who takes them on; Sarah Jessica Parker and Michael J. Fox as unctuous media reporters; Lisa Marie as the memorably slinky alien in disguise who woos Martin Short; and the hilarious (alien-like) Sylvia Sydney as the elderly grandmother of the trailer park family. There are dozens of other cameos, but the aforementioned actors are the most facetious.

What's most outrageous in Burton's fantasy are the Martians themselves - they are green, skeletal aliens with large brains and bulging eyeballs protected by a shield so they can breathe on Earth. They zap everyone and everything in sight, laughing like gremlins at the expense of human lives. All they have to say is "Ack, ack, ack, ack, ack."

"Mars Attacks!" doesn't start off well. For one, the Martians grow tiresome after awhile - all that "Ack, Ack" business is not very imaginative or funny. But then, the movie incredibly gains a fast-paced, inventive comic spirit and gets funnier by the minute. There are also some great lines, such as Lukas Haas's response to the Martian's interpretation of earth: "Hey. He made the international sign of the donut." I also like the President's heartwarming "Can't we all get along" speech to the Martians. And seeing Tom Jones playing himself in Vegas and confronting the aliens causes one to smile despite the ridiculous scenario.

"Mars Attacks!" is not Tim Burton's best film but it is more savagely funny and subversive than "Beetlejuice" or "Batman." Burton has fun with the sci-fi genre and cleverly attacks it at the same time. This is definitely no ordinary studio blockbuster film.

Ring around the toilet bowl

PANE E TULIPANI aka BREAD AND TULIPS (2000)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

Anyone who thinks that Hollywood is the only industry that makes formulaic romantic comedies is sadly mistaken. Silvio Soldini's "Bread and Tulips" is an Italian romantic comedy with all the necessary ingredients to make it a success. The difference is in the execution.

"Bread and Tulips" stars Licia Maglietta as Rosalba, the dutiful housewife who boards a tourist bus with her son and husband back from vacation. At a rest stop, Rosalba loses her engagement ring in a toilet bowl. While trying to retrieve it, the bus leaves without her. What is Rosalba to do now? She decides to go to Venice by hitchhiking there, and enjoying her own vacation for once. This leaves her husband mad who blames her for not being in the bus. Did he ever stop to think that maybe he had taken her for granted and should have checked to be sure she was in the bus before leaving?

Nevertheless, Rosalba stays in beautiful Venice for a day until she misses the train that would take her home. She goes to a cheap hotel, eats a cold dish at the local restaurant, and decides to get a job working for a florist! Rosalba suddenly feels liberated but where will she stay since the hotel has just closed down? Back at the restaurant, a waiter named Fernando (Bruno Ganz) lets her stay in his flat out of sympathy. Rosalba has now neglected her family in favor of her own interests and desires. She becomes acquainted with the reticent Fernando, and forms a friendship with a masseuse next door named Grazia (Marina Massironi). But what of her familial obligations? It seems that her husband has hired a plumber, Constantino (Giuseppe Battiston), to do some private investigating on his wife in Venice. He needs her for her cleaning and cooking and little else since he satisfies himself with a mistress.

"Bread and Tulips" is fairly predictable since you can sense how these characters will mingle and connect. I only wish that writers Soldini and Doriana Leondeff had devised more unexpected turns and twists, especially with the overweight Constantino who fancies himself a real detective though he is only an amateur. I also wished that more was said about Fernando, and his curious habit of hanging a noose in his bedroom. He is obviously suicidal but it is hardly mentioned again when he meets Rosalba the first time. I also would have liked to hear Rosalba mention just once how she felt about her past life and her newer, happier one. The film seems to aim for that speech but it never arrives.

And yet, this is a fairly enjoyable, delicious film that holds back and never goes for any cheap gags. It simmers but never boils. Hollywood may remake it and cast Gwyneth Paltrow as the masseuse, Conchata Ferrell as Rosalba and Gene Hackman as Fernando, but I should hope not. If you like "Chocolat" or the simple pleasures of comedies that deem to be uncomplicated and optimistic, then "Bread and Tulips" is the film for you.

Marion Crane in living, breathing COLOR!

PSYCHO (1998)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

If anyone attempted to do a remake to the 1960 classic "Psycho," it should have been the Master of Suspense himself, Alfred Hitchcock. He did that with "The Man Who Knew Too Much." Hitch isn't around anymore and he's probably rolling in his grave as director Gus Van Sant ("Drugstore Cowboy") attempts to step into the limelight. This "Psycho" remake is a complete bastardization, a dull, callous, near parodic film of little or no consequence.

Granted, I am aware that they have used Joseph Stefano's original, excellent screenplay (almost word for word), and Van Sant has adopted the same angles and camera shots through most of the film. But this movie is a recreation, in the literal sense, not a remake. It replicates the original, but with none of the grace, stamina or conviction that the actors or the director brought to the original. Anne Heche comes off best as Marion Crane, but we'll get back to her in a minute.

Anthony Perkins will always be Norman Bates, just as Harrison Ford will always be Indiana Jones. Therefore, it is a shame to see another actor step in his shoes. The shameful overacting by Vince Vaughn as Norman Bates sheds no doubts in my mind. He has a self-deprecating type of laugh but he brings none of the wit, charm, or nervous tension associated with the stuttering, sexually ambiguous Perkins. He's like a big baby who wouldn't harm a fly, nor scare one either. The marvelous cast on hand is a complete waste of time and talent. There's Viggo Mortensen as Sam Loomis, originally played by John Gavin, a hardware store owner who looks like he's poised to kill. Here's an actor who's too seedy and animalistic to be normal, playing a boyfriend for the second time in a Hitch remake, the first being the suspenseless "A Perfect Murder." Julianne Moore is the biggest disappointment as the one-note character, Lila Crane. I never imagined Moore to be faceless, unsympathetic, and uninteresting yet she manages all the same. Bring back Vera Miles! Worst of all is William H. Macy as the flippant detective Arbogast dressed in a blazing dark blue suit and wearing a ridiculous-looking fedora - how could anyone take this guy seriously, including Norman? Macy's line readings are so flat and antiseptic that I realized why the performers were so listless - they brought no energy or conviction to their roles. They rattle through their line readings quickly with no degree of nuance or diction. Ditto Robert Forster as the psychiatrist in a final scene that was unnecessary in the original, though meant as a joke perhaps.

No one can blame the script, but you sure can blame Van Sant for not recreating the feeling or the mood. There's no tension, no surprise. By the time the marvelously sensual Anne Heche exits, the rest of the film flounders searching for an identity. There is none. Philip Baker Hall is the only actor who brings a sense of authority as Sheriff Chambers. Anne Heche brings class, elegance and a wink of humor to Marion before she's offed.

The original "Psycho" is one of the few great horror classics of all time. I've seen and studied it at least thirty to forty times. I have committed most of the camera shots and dialogue to memory. I can sense Van Sant's giddiness in stepping in the Hitch's shoes, and seeing the film through his eyes. I wish Van Sant would use that giddiness to make an original creation of his own. I just don't see the justification in making a colorized recreation of a film that was pitch-perfect.

Check out of this Bates Motel room

PSYCHO III (1986)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

Norman Bates is one of the most indelible portraits of psychotic killers in cinema. Hitchcock and Anthony Perkins made Norman a household name. Sadly, in 1986, Anthony Perkins chose to revisit the Norman character in a slasher flick in the guise of a Hitchcockian thriller. The Bates House and Motel are still there but it may as well be Crystal Lake.

Perkins reprises Norman Bates as far more kooky and anxious than normal. He still runs the motel that nobody ever stays in, and good old mother is still seated in a chair seen through the bedroom window. Something wicked this way comes in the form of an ex-nun, Maureen (Diana Scarwid), who resembles Janet Leigh from the original "Psycho," and a drifter and musician named Duane (Jeff Fahey) who is probably just as kooky as Norman. Ladies and gentlemen, we have a trio of nutcases staying at the Bates Motel who don't deliver a smidgeon of humanity or sympathy from us.

For gore fans, there is more than expected. A woman is killed while sitting in a toilet, another one while making a call in a phone booth, and there are the requisite impalements, great falls from great heights, and so on. This movie is not as gory as most slasher flicks from the same period but it is nasty and gorier than "Psycho II."

Except for one scene featuring Hugh Gillin as the Sheriff who licks a bloody ice cube, "Psycho III" merely recycles what worked so well before minus the suspense, the atmosphere, the thrills or the black humor. There are no new insights into poor old Norman - he is merely as insane as he was before (though he tries to woo Maureen with great difficulty). The late Perkins is a shadow of his former self and "Psycho III" (also directed by Perkins) is a pale echo of the Hitchcock classic.

Decent but Hitch might still twitch

PSYCHO II (1983)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

(Originally viewed in 1983)

Anthony Perkins will always be Norman Bates in my heart, and the original "Psycho" will always be one of the great suspense thrillers of all time. Having said that, I watched "Psycho II" again the other night and as much as I admire some of it, it falls two thousand peaks below the original (but less so than the bloated Van Sant remake).

Perkins is once again a tanned - but older - Norman as he is released from a mental institution after spending 23 years there for murder. The man is still as loony as ever and returns to the dreaded, ominous house across from the Bates Motel. Life has changed dramatically for poor old Norman. Firstly, he starts to work at a greasy spoon kitchen. Secondly, a sleazy owner (Dennis Franz) runs the Bates Motel now, occupied by oversexed teens, drug addicts, drunks, etc. And to make matters worse, Norman has invited a demure, clumsy waitress (Meg Tilly) to stay at his house as a roommate. But now Norman is getting phone calls from someone purporting to be his dead mother! Who is it? Could it be the high-strung, vengeful Lila Crane (Vera Miles returning from the original)?

"Psycho II" has some tension generated mostly from Perkins, who does solid work as an older, kinder Norman. I particularly like the moment when he slices bread while staring intensely at the knife. The direction by Richard Franklin is diverting, and there are numerous high-angles of the Bates House and one exceedingly wide-angle lens shot that shows the house to be more dangerous than inviting. In fact, there is a lot to savor in this film, but it never jells (as Martin Balsam's Arbogast said in the original). During the second half of the film, it borders on the slasher-film mentality (including a gratuitous scene where two teens make out in the basement of the Bates House). One too many killings slices the psychological impact that I am guessing writer Tom Holland was after - to expose Norman as something more than having a murderous Oedipal Complex.

The cast is uniformly perfect (including Vera Miles, Meg Tilly and Robert Loggia as a doctor), the visuals are scarily effective, the music occasionally spooky (though it does lack the late composer Herrmann's thrust). But it is an undernourished sequel, lacking the cleverness, depth and madness of the original. And showing the infamous shower scene from the original does little justice to this movie.

Overall, this is a decent sequel that would not make Hitchcock roll over in his grave in shame. Maybe he would just twitch a little.

Hip to be Psycho

AMERICAN PSYCHO (2000)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

Patrick Bateman is not your typical serial killer. He is obsessed with consumerism and has an affinity for music by Huey Lewis and the News and Whitney Houston, not to mention Phil Collins. He also happens to work at a firm in Wall Street. Patrick is a handsome, young man who is ruthless and arrogant - a yuppie who just happens to love killing people.

I was initially miffed to hear that Christian Bale was going to play the title role, but then I guess I had forgotten his smugness and arrogance in 1994's wonderful "Little Women." Bale is the perfect choice because he encompasses the soulless, excessive period of the 1980's integral to the character of Patrick Bateman better than any other actor would have.

Bateman's life is not all that exciting. He works in merger and acquistions (which is slyly referred to as "murders and executions"), though we mostly see him listening to his walkman in his office. He has a pretty secretary (Chloe Sevigny) and has a group of friends whose main concern is where they will be eating dinner and if there are reservations available at any one of the top restaurants. Bateman's day begins by applying several lotions and creams to his body while taking a shower, working out by doing a thousand push-ups a day and, in general, planning his evening with his dates including a socialite girlfriend (Reese Witherspoon). Sometimes Patrick picks up some prostitutes and then kills and dismembers them. Other times he will kill someone he knows, such as an ex-girlfriend or a rival co-worker (who has mistaken him for someone else) by using an ax or a nail gun. But who is Bateman really? Is he so devoid of identity that murder is all he needs to bring spice to his life? Or has he lost his soul and thinks that his identity is defined by his consumerist ideals, or the specific type of business card he carries?

I have read the controversial, infamous book by Bret Easton Ellis, though I am fuzzy on recalling certain details. Naturally, the big shocker of the book was the relentless, graphic violence against women - how they were dismembered and, well, you get the idea. For about the first hour of director Mary Harron's adaptation (she co-wrote it with Guinevere Turner), "American Psycho" has great fun with all the minute details of Patrick's life and his circle of friends. There is a classic scene set to the music of Huey Lewis's "Hip to be Square" where Bateman invites his rival (Jared Leto) to his home while explaining the brief history of the rock group and their gradual artistic integrity - the scene is especially tense considering that one can smell murder in the air. But the film loses its grip after a while mainly because Bateman seems to lose his mind, and we can't fathom why. Has he realized the errors of his murderous ways? We are never sure and though I would not expect a motive necessarily, his reasons can't be any more silly than that he feels his life has become a void - empty and unidentifiable. Many other Wall Street types may feel the same way without having to kill anyone. Somehow this rings false, as in the book, and I wish that the twist ending was removed. It feels like a cheat and makes the whole affair more surreal than it should have been.

"American Psycho" is often fun and, at times, surprisingly funny and on-target. Thanks to Harron's almost monochromatic visuals, such as Bateman's apartment, there is a Kubrickian coolness to it, detached and grayish as if life meant nothing. Even the restaurants look like science-fiction artifacts from "2001" - this is the alternate reality of the 1980's where money and greed were all that mattered. But the film also feels cold and remote and since we follow Bateman in his violent streak, we never come close to understanding him one bit. Despite some satirical touches and Bale's superb performance, this "Psycho" needed a little more savagery to really hit the mark.