White man in fear of the American Indian

SMOKE SIGNALS (1998)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

I attended a screening of "Smoke Signals" at the Theatre Three in Port Jefferson, New York back in 1999. There was a big audience turnout and most seem to like it when it was over. But one audience member said the movie was terrible - it could be that it was too simple or too subtle. I disagreed but I think a film like "Smoke Signals" either moves you with its simplicity or it merely irritates you. I am going with the former.

Except for the opening sequence, the movie segues suspiciously into comedic territory. We see a tribal meteorologist sitting on a van out in the main highway, commenting on the shape of clouds and the occasional traffic. Then there's the radio host who is shown in a battered, beaten-up motor home of sorts commenting on the big winner of a bingo game. Pretty soon, we see two young Native American women listening to rock music and driving backwards. Before you know it, we are in the Coeur D'Alene Reservation in Idaho. News travels fast that a former member of the reservation, Arnold Joseph (Gary Farmer), had just died. Victor Joseph (Adam Beach) is the mopey son who only remembers his father as being abusive and an alcoholic. Nevertheless, Victor has to travel to Phoenix and recover his father's ashes from a neighbor. Thomas Builds-the-Fire (Evan Adams) accompanies him and annoys Victor with endless stories about Arnold.

We learn through their talks that Victor and Thomas were rescued in a fire by Arnold when they were infants, though the extent of their rescue is only slowly revealed. Victor and Thomas don't like each other much, though Victor tells Thomas to get rid of his suit and braids and act tougher by maintaining a stoic look - the white man, after all, must be in fear of the Indian.

Mistakenly advertised as a comedy, "Smoke Signals" is clearly dramatic but in a less forcible and less confrontational manner. It doesn't pound you over the head with symbolism or rhetoric, and it doesn't make you feel sorry for those who reside in reservations with the bare minimum. Instead, the film envelops you with tightly woven flashbacks and able performances. Particularly memorable is Evan Adams as Thomas, playing and appearing as a Native American stereotype with his braids, glasses and wide grin - a character that audiences could relate to, which is precisely the point. Adam Beach is perfectly cast as Victor, the tougher of the two who's acutely aware of how to size people up. He has a splendid scene where he sings about John Wayne's teeth in the bus as a rebuke to some racist white guys who take their seats. Also noteworthy is Gary Farmer as Arnold, articulating nuances of drunken behavior and regret with ease - it is possibly the best role Farmer has yet played.

"Smoke Signals" is a small, pleasing film that gets by on small pleasures and does them with enough sincerity to score points. It is not a great film nor is it really stunning or innovative in any way, and the screenplay limits two crucial female characters to merely standby status. Still, it is just a pleasure to see something so quiet and absorbing.

Sam Jackson's the man, dig it

SHAFT (2000)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

(Originally reviewed in 2000)

Back in 1971, "Shaft" was a revolutionary film - it introduced an African-American hero who bed countless women a la James Bond and could be as mean and relentless as most other private detectives, such as Philip Marlowe. The film also showed an African-American who preened and walked the streets as if he owned them. He meant business and held no prisoners - a true fighting machine. The other significance of "Shaft" is that it launched the blaxploitation genre with popular hits such as "Superfly" and "Foxy Brown." Though the genre eventually died out, it resurged somewhat with Tarantino's take "Jackie Brown" in 1997 and now the Samuel L. Jackson revisionist take by director John Singleton. With Jackson in the title role and a super cool, sleek style, this new "Shaft" delivers.

Jackson is Shaft, though he does not replacing the original actor, Richard Roundtree. Instead, he plays his nephew and Roundtree is back reprising his famous role, now a weary uncle who still has his way with women. This new Shaft is also not a private detective but a New York City cop (watch out Guiliani). At the start of the film, he is investigating a racist yuppie, Walter Wade Jr. (Christian Bale, in his "American Psycho" mode), who killed an African-American man (Meki Phifer) in cold blood. Wade gets away scot-free and is deported to Switzerland. Meanwhile, Shaft, sensing a gross injustice, quits the police force. He does so in an unbelievably funny scene where he tosses his badge across a courtroom as if it was a Chinese star. There are various comic-book moments like this, especially when a runaway drug dealer breaks through one building window and lands safely on the other side by breaking through another window. Jackson's reaction makes the scene priceless!

Several years later, Shaft is still pursuing Wade and finds a way of trapping him. Apparently, Wade has employed a Dominican coke dealer, Peoples Hernandez (Jeffrey Wright), to kill a scared bartender (Toni Collete), the sole witness who can pinpoint Wade to the murder. The price is $40,000 for the hit but of course Shaft tries to obtain the cash and succeeds, leading to a series of double-crosses, car chases and lots of violence. In other words, what else do you expect from an action picture, right? True, but it is rare to see a fun, exciting, truly spirited action picture like this one, and Jackson makes it more so with his titanic presence and his unduly sarcasm.

Director John Singleton stages the car chase scenes with such panache that it almost supersedes the similar velocity of car stunts in "Ronin." They somehow feel new again, and the reason is in the character development and the less-is-more policy. Most action pictures overdose on action paranoia (see "Lethal Weapon 4") but this Shaft proves to be a strong, durable hero with more than enough reason for payback - he is no angry cartoon like Mel Gibson's Riggs. Shaft shows no fear and little mercy, especially when roughing up a couple of teen gang members or using Bale as a punching bag. "Oh, you are firing me, for that?," as he knocks Bale out yet again.

The villains are also very effective - the golden rule in any action flick is that the villains must be threatening and scary. "Mission: Impossible 2" is a bad example of providing a villain that would not even scare Barney the Dinosaur. In "Shaft", we have two villains, both a major match for the hero. Bale as the mean, racist, impulsive Wade, and the near-stereotypical yet vibrant turn by Jeffrey Wright (yes, the same guy from "Basquiat") as the smooth Peoples who wants to use Wade's clientele to up the ante on his drug sales. There is one tense, frighteningly real scene where Peoples lets his emotional guard down when he finds his brother dead - he literally stabs himself in protest and sheer anger. Powerful stuff that you rarely see in a movie of this type.

"Shaft" is not a great movie simply because the plot is too mediocre to inspire much excitement (corrupt cops, drug couriers, etc.) but its style is several notches above the original classic. One other minor quibble is that I would loved to have seen more of Collette, who plays a largely underdeveloped character. Still, I am no big fan of the original "Shaft" (though I certainly admired it) but this new film has the spark and vivid persona of Samuel L. Jackson to make up for everything else. He is the man, and I can dig it.

Home may not be where the heart is

RETURN (2011)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

When a soldier returns from war, it can be a long haul before normalcy returns. The question is what is Kelli (Linda Cardellini), a National Guard reservist, going to do in a small Ohio town where the only excitement is drinking at the local bar with the girlfriends? Can normalcy ever truly return?

"Return" is one of several recent films about the consequences of war on the spiritual mind, particularly the difficulty of adjusting to being home. Kelli has a husband named Mike (Michael Shannon), a struggling plumber, and two daughters, one of whom is old enough to know when family life is tense. Kelli is back from the war but she can't stand her long-term job where she assembles aluminum air ducts, and promptly quits. Mike is upset by Kelli's indifference to everything, including having a job, but she can't find much comfort beyond being lazy and laying on the couch. When she isn't sleeping till noon, she is drinking. When Kelli isn't doing either, she gets wind of Mike's infidelities. Then there is the support group counselor who can't possibly fathom Kelli's war experiences.

"Return" may sound like a depressing film but it is not - it is a slow-moving character study of a woman's search for something, some reminder of a home life prior to deployment. It appears that maybe she sees the reality of her home life since the war has pummeled her sensibilities (and she claims others had it worse) - she is more of an outsider and an observer in her family. When Mike and the kids watch TV, she can't get them to listen to her suggestion of painting the living room a different color. The fact that Mike can't see she is suffering, perhaps internally, suggests that he has no idea how to cope with her beyond a superficial "spouse group" pamphlet.

Linda Cardellini rules the screen with the most nuanced performance of her career, thus far. When she shows Kelli sleeping on the floor next to her kids, we want to hug her. When she sneaks out of a bathroom window at the bar, we feel that she can't find comfort in anything, or just hates enclosed environments. Cardellini brilliantly shows vulnerability and an air of authority and raw anger, particularly in two scenes - the most striking is when she confronts Mike's new flame. Kelli is ready to pounce on this woman and we feel it hit our raw nerves but it is more explosive for how little anger actually seeps out. Cardellini conveys just as much through silence and body language as she does with words - this is a striking performance that should have received Oscar talk.

Most of "Return" has been seen before but never as evocatively or as powerfully as this film. Even seemingly cliched moments with an expected payoff, such as Kelli and Mike's supposed reconciliation, are handled with a slightly different outcome. Kudos must go to Cardellini, a character actress on the rise, Michael Shannon's minimalist tonal shifts (playing one of the nicest people he has ever played on screen), and a spry turn by John Slattery as a Vietnam Vet who knows what Kelli is going through. Writer-director Liza Johnson has astutely dealt with a female soldier's point-of-view and leaves her and us with no easy resolutions. By the end of the film, we're not sure if Kelli will ever fully recover - we just hope that she does.

Sequelitis, in the worst possible way

THE WORST AND MOST DISAPPOINTING SEQUELS OF ALL TIME

By Jerry Saravia

The poster is funnier than the movie

Movie sequels populate our current cinematic landscape in greater numbers than thirty years ago. It used to be seen as a step down to sequelize any film, let alone remake it. Times have changed, and franchise is the key word used to capitalize on the original success. I would never have thought that we would have two movies called "Halloween II" or "Spider-Man 2" - there is no shame anymore when even sequels are remade. In the past, sequels would end up straight-to-VHS or DVD, including such "wonderful" movies like "The Amityville Horror" series or "Children of the Corn." Now, most of them are unleashed in theaters and some of them are sequels to movies that were not big hits such as "Percy Jackson," which looks and feels like warmed-up leftovers from the Harry Potter series (never mind that the former and the latter are based on a series of books). 

The following is a list of sequels that weren't just bad - they were unfathomably awful and had little to no connection to their original counterparts. They removed any trace of what made the originals work or, in some cases, the first or second sequels. Few sequels match the flavor or inventiveness of the originals (a topic for another time) but sequels that barely try, that are created out of greed, those are legion. So let's soak in the cruddiness, and further below are sequels that just barely hit the mark of a good movie, that disappointed our initial expectations. (Note: If you are wondering why there is an omission of "Children of the Corn" sequels, or the "Vacation" series or the terminally unfunny "Fletch Lives," or perhaps "Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull" or the Star Wars prequel trilogy, it may be because I have not seen them all or don't think they are all as bad or as disappointing as others might think).

THE WORST OF THE WORST (THIS TIME, IT'S PERSONAL):

JAWS THE REVENGE (1987)  - Yep, I have gone back to the water with deciphering earlier "Jaws" flicks, including one in 3-D, but this snoozer really takes the cake for jumping the shark (so to speak). Lorraine Gary is back as Chief Brody's wife, who senses that a relative of the shark that was killed in Spielberg's original is seeking revenge! There are also those cliched, annoying dream-within-dream sequences and an ending that literally rips off the original, including using the same exact underwater shot of the shark's bloody carcass! I not only wasted two hours of my life on this one, I also wasted five minutes of my life walking to the library to rent it.

CANNONBALL RUN II (1984) - No coast-to-coast racing, no real jokes, no scenes shared between Frank Sinatra and his own friends (if you see the movie, you will know what I mean). I am no fan of the original "Cannonball Run" but this car wreck is not even mildly amusing - Burt Reynolds' charm can only carry a movie so far (and what a waste of a cast that includes Shirley MacLaine and a triple dozen cameos). This one is horse dung and revenge for those who may have liked Burt Reynolds in "Stroker Ace" (God help you all).

 SMOKEY AND THE BANDIT PART 3 (1983) - No Burt Reynolds as the returning Bandit except for a closing scene (that is in fact imagined), which spells trouble for a sequel right off the bat. Jackie Gleason is back as Sheriff Buford Pusser, playing the character as a catatonic parody. The Bandit this time is Jerry Reed. This disposable celluloid turd is a surefire way of curing insomnia. By the way, a fourth chapter followed that ended up as a TV movie, and it is actually more snore-inducing than this one.

HALLOWEEN III: SEASON OF THE WITCH (1982)

- Another case of arbitrarily using a Roman numeral in front of a movie to ensure people walk in and pay for a movie ticket. "Halloween III" bears no relation to either of the first two "Halloween" flicks - it is a semi-remake of either "Invaders From Mars" or "Invasion of the Body Snatchers." There is no Michael Myers, only robots who walk around and kill people in a small town. Dan 0'Herlihy is the evil maker of masks who wants to murder thousands of children on Halloween night by making them watch a stupid commercial. Creepy song and a dark ending to be sure, but mostly execrable acting and a silly, poorly conceived climax involving Stonehenge (also figured in the climax to a good/bad movie, "Troll 2"). Several other sequels followed but Number 3 has the distinction of having a trailer that is far spookier than what ended up on screen.

STAYING ALIVE (1983) - Best thing that can be said about this is that it was not titled "Saturday Night Fever Part II." Tony Manero (John Travolta) is back, this time pursuing his dream of becoming a Broadway dancer in a Dantesesqe musical called "Satan's Alley." None of the grit, humor or reality of the original can be found, nor is the Tony Manero we all loved present. All we get is interminable slow-motion dancing, two torpid relationships with dancers (Cynthia Rhodes, Finola Hughes), and Tony actually strutting in the last scene to the title tune. A flashy commercial with more slow-motion dancing scenes than almost anything else, not a movie.

A GOOD DAY TO DIE HARD (2013) - Yippie-kay-Yawn! Super-duper cop John McClane (Bruce Willis) is back, jumping through windows and landing on several wooden masts from several stories without breaking a single bone. It is all set in Mother Russia with McClane partnering with his son, a CIA agent, to battle some evil Russians leading to a tasteless sequence at Chernobyl. The series should just die hard.

EXORCIST II: THE HERETIC (1977) - Linda Blair is back as tormented, formerly possessed Regan MacNeil and Richard Burton is on call as a priest who helps Regan deal with a moronic script that includes locusts and Blair uttering my favorite line to a mental patient: "It's okay, I was once possessed by the Devil." Didn't we learn at the end of "The Exorcist" that she would have no memory of her possession? Can't Regan forget the memory of this absurd movie that respected director Martin Scorsese said was superior to the original? Three more sequels followed but this one is a solid number 2.

NOSFERATU IN VENICE (1988) - Soft-core porn with Klaus Kinski (who never turned down acting jobs in schlock, though he turned down a role in "Raiders of the Lost Ark") is back as Nosferatu, er, big problem I have right there. The vampire character is either known as Dracula or Count Orlok, not Nosferatu (which in some circles is known as the undead, but its implicit meaning is "plague-carrier"). Christopher Plummer is a vampire expert who raises the count from the dead, but why? The central theme is that the vampire wants the blood of a virgin so he can remain dead forever. Hopefully this movie can remain dead forever.

ROCKY V (1990) - I've got to hand it to Sylvester Stallone - he reclaimed the glory and grit of Rocky Balboa in the fifth and final Rocky sequel, aptly titled "Rocky Balboa." "Rocky V" is some sort of sick joke - Rocky is exposed as an anomalous dunderheaded fool. It also takes him forever to realize his son is being bullied in school and that his protégé (Tommy Morrison) is taking him for a ride. I don't like to call movies stupid but this one takes the cake. Other moronic sequels in Stallone's filmography include "Rambo II and III" and "The Expendables 2," and serving as writer-director of "Staying Alive" (mentioned above). Thank God he never made a "Rhinestone 2."

GHOSTBUSTERS II (1989) - There is one big laugh in this epic fail of a so-called comedy and it occurs during the last twenty minutes. It has to do with the Statue of Liberty. I will say no more except Woody Allen told a better joke in "Crimes and Misdemeanors." The whole gang is back but when Bill Murray and Sigourney Weaver look labored in the process, then something is wrong. There are tons of special-effects but every moment feels forced and contrived (consider a moment where Ernie Hudson is literally spooked by a ghost train). Further proof why Murray only appeared in this sequel to one of his classics - who wants a repeat of "Stripes" with zero laughs? (By the way, I never saw "Caddyshack II" or any "Meatballs" films beyond the second one, so don't ask me why they do not rate on this list).

STEPFATHER III: FATHER'S DAY (1992) - You know a sequel is bad when it is a made-for-TV/cable movie (anyone have strong memories of "To Sir, With Love Part II"?) Bad daddy is back in suburbia only Terry O'Quinn doesn't return - it is Robert Wightman and he tries to meddle with two suburban mothers this time. The tree shredder is the best sequence, which is where the shoddy script should've been disposed of. Not to be confused with the abysmal 1997 comedy, "Father's Day."

CROCODILE DUNDEE IN LOS ANGELES (2001) - The Crocodile Hunter from Down Under is back as Mick Dundee (Paul Hogan) as he heads to L.A. with the former Newsday journalist Sue (Linda Kozlowski), who has a found job at her father's news bureau. Her assignment is to investigate why a movie studio is making so many sequels to a movie called "Lethal Agent" (naturally it is a front for some bad business). Throw in everything but the kitchen sink, including a cameo by Mike Tyson and commercial plug-ins for Universal Studios, and you have a film that is hardly on equal footing with the less inspired Part II from 1988. When you have a chimp in a sequel, that is usually the cry of DESPERATION.

DESPERADO (1995) - Supposedly a semi-sequel/remake of Robert Rodriguez's thrilling "El Mariachi." Antonio Banderas has various slow-motion scenes where he waves his long hair, shoots hundreds of people, walks away from explosions in the background and gets to have a romp in the hay with Salma Hayek. Quentin Tarantino has a great moment in a film filled with over-the-top cartoonish violence that has no sting, no level of surprise, no personality and no sign of inspiration from its original source. Call it relentless action porn.

MOST DISAPPOINTING SEQUELS:

THE GODFATHER PART III (1990) - Here was an opportunity that was fueled by greed, not art. As far as I am concerned, the Corleone saga ended with Part II. This sequel has an older, diabetic Michael Corleone (Al Pacino) dealing with a nephew who is a bastard son (Andy Garcia), a sexy reporter (Bridget Fonda), some corrupt dealings with the Vatican so that Michael can become legitimate, some colorful shootouts, an odd reignited romance between Michael and Kay (Diane Keaton), and an opera house climax that makes Pacino's "Scarface" look subtle by comparison. Oh, yes, and there is the tanned George Hamilton as the consiglieri, replacing Robert Duvall and an actually better-than-reputed performance by Sofia Coppola.  It is not a bad movie but it is a wholly misguided one, with a desperate Francis Ford Coppola directing this mess as if it was a Shakespearan tragedy where Michael is seeking redemption. Didn't the Godfather movies already resonate as a tragedy of the American dream?

THE KARATE KID PART II (1986) - Here is another unnecessary sequel - must we know what Daniel LaRusso was doing immediately after the first movie's rousing finish? I should think not but, here, it is just as contrived as Coppola's magnum dopus. Daniel (Ralph Macchio) heads to Okinawa with his mentor, Miyagi (Pat Morita), meets a new girl interest (Tamlyn Tomita), fights some Okinawans and there is a final fight scene to see who wins the girl, I gather. "Karate Kid II" works best with insight into Pat Morita's own ancestry in this far away land, which begs the question - why didn't director John Avildsen just make a movie called "Miyagy"? By the way, check out "Karate Kid Part III" - It is so damn stupid and so watchably hysterical that I must rate it as great good/bad movie. I'll take it over the dull goings-on of this tepid sequel.

PSYCHO II (1983) - Norman Bates is out of a mental institution after twenty plus years. Now he is back in that crazy house and more murders follow. Is it Norman, his new roommate or Vera Miles who is out for revenge? Some decent scares and it is not a carbon copy of the original classic but it does little beyond being a slightly over-the-top and gory slasher flick. Simply put, even if Hitch had been alive to helm it, the original film is a tough act to follow.

SUPERMAN IV: THE QUEST FOR PEACE (1987) - Bad special-effects of the Ed Wood garden variety, bad toupee on Christopher Reeve's head, endless fight scenes between Superman and Nuclear Man and some shoddy flying effects (hard to believe the Man of Steel is truly ever flying in this film). Not insufferably slapsticky like "Superman III" and it rates higher thanks to the return of the reliable Gene Hackman as Lex Luthor and Margot Kidder as Lois Lane, but fairly mediocre and severely truncated from its original running time. Worth a watch for Man of Steel fans, others beware.

BEVERLY HILLS COP III (1994) and ANOTHER 48 HRS. (1990) - Eddie Murphy has had many ups and downs prior to his second coming in "The Nutty Professor" remake, yet "Cop III" has that commonplace problem of most sequels - it chooses to eschew the characteristics of earlier entries by focusing on other less interesting aspects. The first "Beverly Hills Cop" was a dynamic blend of action and comedy with Murphy excelling as Axel Foley, a Detroit cop who bluffs his way into any situation. "Cop II" had more action than jokes but at least it was entertaining and Murphy took the persona of Axel Foley as far as he could. "Cop III" has a different Axel - one who does not joke or bluff his way out of every situation. Murphy, according to director John Landis, wanted to be taken seriously in light of actors like Denzel Washington. There are a few bits of the old Eddie charm that work but there is precious little comic dazzle (a badly shot Ferris wheel climax and a cameo by George Lucas, not to mention the desperate return of Serge from the first film, ring hollow). Worthwhile for "Beverly Hills Cop" fans but worthless to anyone else.

Rushed into production faster than you can mimic Eddie Murphy's laugh, "Another 48 HRS." amps up the action to another movie that was a clever combo of action and comedy. Director Walter Hill, however, chooses to avoid the chemistry between Eddie Murphy and Nick Nolte in favor of hysteria with a plot that hinges on coincidence and absurdity (if you do not know where the bad guys are, ask a prisoner in jail and he'll tell yah). Every scene feels like a carbon copy of the original "48 HRS.," including a gory, tasteless ending and a reprise of the bar scene from the original where bullets and excessively Dolby-ized punches replace jokes or any trace of humor. Once again, Eddie has a few good scenes, especially when calling old friends for money, but he and Nolte are action robots in this movie. The central plot twist that involves a drug kingpin who keeps his daytime job is as contrived as they come. Of course, Roger Ebert brought up all these points already, so thank Ebert for reminding me of a noisy movie with only one quiet scene. Stick to the original classic.

A Fistful of Futuristic Crap

ESCAPE FROM L.A. (1996)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

I don't see how John Carpenter could've screwed up a sequel to his own cult classic "Escape From New York." Laconic Snake Plissken is back, this time searching for the President's First Daughter who has stolen a black box in the guarded and secular L.A. area. Peter Fonda plays a surfer, Bruce Campbell is the eerie Surgeon General of Beverly Hills, reliable Steve Buscemi is known as Maps-to-the-Stars Eddie, and even Pam Grier plays a transsexual with a deeply manly voice! All the elements are in place but this movie is more of a redux of "Escape From New York" than a legitimate sequel of some variety.

For one, Kurt Russell's Snake Plissken is so laconic and overdoes the Clint Eastwood impression to such an extent that he becomes a vile cartoonish variation of the original Snake. There is no room for character development so it is more of the same with no inner dimensions at work for the character. I had little sympathy for this grueling joke of an antihero so I cared less if he lived or died.

The plot hinges on Snake doing the bidding of the government, in this case, the President of the U.S. for life (a bored Cliff Robertson) and his tough henchman (Stacy Keach). They once again inject Snake with a timed explosive charge, so he has a limited amount of time to find the First Daughter and retrieve the black box that contains codes to global satellites. This is the same set-up as in the original, only in the original it was to rescue the President of the U.S. (played at that time by Donald Pleasance). Somehow, this turgid, endless sequel is more colorful than bleak and contains action scenes that lead nowhere, including Snake using a surfboard on tsunami-like waves.

There are some pluses. I like Snake's inspired stand-off with some villainous minions that seems like a cruel joke on Westerns. I also like the depiction of a Los Angeles that is separated from the rest of the U.S. The choice of offering potential L.A. citizens death by electrocution or a life of misery among society's undesirables where you can't eat red meat is fascinating satire, almost on the level of Milton. And the ending, to be fair, is a little more bleak than the original. Also worth a mention is the short-shrift appearance of Valeria Golino, which almost brought my hopes up that this movie would rock with pizazz and sensation. But the movie seems limp and uninspired overall, afraid to pursue the subtext of a city that wants to cleanse its citizens when, in fact, the city looks like it is under martial law (decrying authority and the elimination of rational thought are very much themes of Carpenter's ouevre). And with little insight into its characters including Snake Plissken, we are left with a movie that jettisons humans for automatons. I recommend escaping to a different movie.

Manhattan Futuristic Melodrama

ESCAPE FROM NEW YORK (1981)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

I recall seeing "Escape From New York" back in 1981 and mostly I remember specific images. I recall the eyepatch-wearing Snake Plissken, the red escape pod that had the President of the U.S. in it, the fact that it mostly took place at night, and that's about it. Having heard recently that there may be a potential remake, I decided to watch it again. "Escape from New York" is a mesmerizingly bleak action film, set in a future that didn't quite happen, and I can't say that I know why it works so well. The downtrodden, claustrophobic look of the film is nothing new for films set in the future (though somewhat new in its time), but the film has an atmospheric power that keeps you glued to the screen.

Kurt Russell is, of course, the iconic, reluctant, taciturn Snake Plissken, a prisoner inside Manhattan, which has become a maximum security prison. The waters are electrified around the island, the bridges are mined and walled - basically, no one can get out alive. It is 1997 and the Air Force One plane has crashed into New York, thanks to the soldiers of The National Liberation Front of America who have taken over the plane (it is never made clear why except for the fact that the President has turned New York, if not the country, into an imperialist nation). The President (Donald Pleasance) manages to escape in a pod that lands in the middle of the city. This is dangerous territory since criminals and thieves known as the Gypsies will kill and maim if necessary (they are led by the Duke of York, well-played by Issac Hayes).

Enter Snake Plissken, a former war hero, who is recruited by Police Commissioner Bob Hauk (Lee Van Cleef) on a rescue mission to find the President in 24 hours. Apparently, the President was on his way to a summit and has papers that could help save the U.S. from being demolished. If Plissken succeeds, he will be pardoned of all his previous criminal charges (I wonder if he can leave New York too!)

"Escape From New York" is fascinating for its low-key style and low-key performances. Nothing detracts from the story and everyone performs without necessarily standing out. Of course, this is what director John Carpenter often does best - maintain a certain degree of tension by building it slowly and effectively and getting his actors to tone it down a few notches. Russell has the look of a leather-jacketed, unapologetic badass punk with an apolitical agenda ("The President of what?"), who doesn't think too highly of himself (and he has no time for love). Essentially, he is the Man With No Name character Eastwood perfected back in the days of the spaghetti westerns. And having Lee Van Cleef on board helps to make that homage to the West even clearer.

And for fans of westerns, there is also Ernest Borgnine as the only taxi cab driver alive who warns Plissken about the Duke; Harry Dean Stanton as Brain, who knows how to navigate the mine traps in the 69th St. Bridge; cleavage-bearing Adrienne Barbeau as Brain's girlfriend; Ox Baker as Slag, a vicious wrestler who wields a baseball bat with ease; and Frank Doubleday as a screaming punk who might very well be the physical incarnation of Edvard Munch's "The Scream."

"Escape From New York" is a strong entry in the futuristic action genre, far more expressive and contained than anyone could've expected. Its view of an imperialist, bleak, nihilistic future (thanks to cinematographer Dean Cundey) seems somewhat prescient, and its antihero, Snake Plissken, seems close to being today's average apolitical citizen who's fed up. Le't hope that potentially imperialistic notions in the future exclude turning a city into a maximum security prison.

A wet dream is better than this

DREAM FOR AN INSOMNIAC (1996)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

Roman Polanski once said that the best love stories are the tragic ones. I am inclined to agree. I also think ambiguous endings in love stories work, as is the case with Mike Nichols' fabulous "The Graduate." Then there are the forced happy endings, notably the finale of "Pretty Woman." "Dream for an Insomniac" is your standard, cookie-cutter formula crap where the happy ending is not only forced but also downright shameful.

The insomniac is Frankie (Ione Skye), an aspiring actress who has not had a decent night of sleep since she was six-years old. Since this story is meant to be a modern-day fairy-tale, I'll forgive that implausibility for the moment. Frankie lives above a coffee shop run by her Italian uncle (Seymour Cassel), who keeps Frank Sinatra pictures on the walls and constantly plays Old Blue Eyes' music. Frankie is convinced that once she leaves for L.A. with her best friend, Allison (Jennifer Aniston), she will find her dreamboat, someone with "the soul of a poet and eyes like Frank Sinatra." That is until a new employee of the coffee shop comes around named David (Mackenzie Astin), a wannabe writer with the blue eyes of Sinatra. He also happens to be full of quotations from Shakespeare and Sartre, and various pop-culture references. Frankie is instantly in love but how can she leave for L.A. in four days since she met her dreamboat?

I've been in love but if I were a character in this movie, I would not fall so hard for someone like Frankie. Her character is shown to be a pessimist, an overtly cynical and smug person, so how can she also be so optimistic about finding the right kind of man? And what kind of man is that supposed to be? One who can quote endlessly from different literary sources? The scene of Frankie and David's first meeting smacks of sentimental implausibilities. I am not sure if I would be crazy about someone who feels that if you can quote from the literary gods and can keep up with her stream of quotes, then you are worthy. The whole scene as directed by Tiffanie Debartolo is forced, romantic hogwash, as is most of the movie. The shift from black and white to color only enhances the lack of credibility.

There are revelations that can be seen coming from miles ahead of the cinema meter. Frankie's male cousin, Rob (Michael Landes) is homosexual but his father does not know it - their inevitable scene where Rob has to confess his nature is predictable. Then there is David's little secret, also foreseeable. And there is the stereotypical Generation X-er who can drink and eat anything he wants for free. And so on.

The one comic surprise that often took me out of my dull stupor is Jennifer Aniston. She plays the best friend, which is a considerable waste of her talents since she does the exact same role on her famous sitcom. Anytime Aniston showed up on screen, I was elated. Aniston is funny, engaging, sprightly - a real fireball that enlivens the proceedings and makes us wish her role had more development. If Frankie had been played by Aniston, I might have had more fun watching the film.

"Dream for an Insomniac" is fabricated, dull, formulaic, unsurprising, dishonest nonsense. Dishonest in that it wants to reinforce the belief that love at first sight still exists, even for two charismatic people who have no business being together. Watching Cassevettes regular Cassel spouting cliche-ridden dialogue is enough cause for a Cassevettes retrospective. And if you happen to be an insomniac, then this film will prove to be a dream come true.