Friedkin's Beautifully Ugly Mess

CRUISING (1980)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

"Cruising" may have been unfairly maligned upon its 1980 release to some, and particularly during its production shoot. Gay groups protested, regular moviegoers maybe not so much. We are talking about a pre-AIDS era where homosexuality was seen as a deviant act by the deviants of society, and today it still is regarded by some, albeit in smaller conservative groups. William Friedkin's "Cruising" is about the search for a serial killer who is targeting only gays in the underworld of gay leather clubs. My issue is that there is no single purpose in the film beyond being a gay slasher flick, and no real character exploration either to give it a lift.

A few murders in NYC result in body parts found along the Hudson River. Since there is no way of knowing who these body parts belong to, the murders cannot be identified as homicides. Meanwhile, there is pressure on exhausted Captain Edelson (played by Paul Sorvino, who walks with a limp for no discernible reason) from above (a Democratic Convention is coming to town) to solve these murders, pronto. Edelson asks a patrolman, Steve Burns (Al Pacino), to go undercover and find the gay killer in the homosexual underworld of quickies and S&M - bars, nightclubs and underground lairs mostly. The trouble is that the killer always wears sunglasses, participates in sex yet no DNA is found (for reasons that you can discover for yourself), and slaughters his victims with a kitchen knife and dismembers them but with no obvious blood trail. What is the motivation behind the killer's handiwork is not clear nor do I need to know - how this affects Steve is the real question.

That is a good question and it seems such questions were never really asked. Friedkin spends more time showing how unhealthy, filthy and downright deviant the lifestyle of this particular group of homosexuals is. He expresses no empathy towards them; they are merely a sideshow attraction that mainstream America can look at with disgust and nod in agreement that all homosexuals are like this and are, therefore, deviant. The cops respond to them as if they were a sickness, a pestilence which must be remedied (some cops ask for sexual favors from them). Though one line of dialogue makes it clear that this underworld is not mainstream gay America, it might have helped if there was one gay character we could actually like (Steve's accommodating next-door neighbor is given short-shrift). As for Steven, here is a detective who seems to like this world, or hates it, or sees himself as one of them. It is difficult to say which but the film and Pacino make no attempt to be subtle - one troubling sequence has Pacino's Steve attacking a next-door neighbor for no real reason. It is a volatile, violent scene and there is an aftermath and coda that suggests Steve is not quite what he seems. Any clues or foreshadowing is largely absent for a rather perplexing final scene.

There are virtues to "Cruising." It is certainly watchable and Friedkin's atmospheric eye and the use of sound (love the footsteps on the city streets, the crinkling of the leather jackets) definitely catches your attention. I also adore Karen Allen as Steve's girlfriend, though her purpose beyond being a girl who is not getting enough sex from Steve wastes the magnetic talent of this stellar actress. But "Cruising" is ultimately nothing more than an average slasher flick with above-average production values and excellent actors. Pacino remains doe-eyed from the beginning to the end - no nuance whatsoever so it was a waste to cast him. The movie is a beautifully ugly mess (a green tint figures throughout) but it is never boring. In retrospect, "Cruising" is also a little too morally reprehensible. 

Snowden's Clear and Present Danger

CITIZENFOUR (2014)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

A clear and present danger is displayed in "Citizenfour" with such unbridled urgency that anyone jaded over the malfeasance running our government is likely to suffer a twinge of disbelief after watching it. The U.S. government may have Big Brothered our society before but none of us may be prepared to know the extent of it. This is not an Orwellian nightmare in our landscape but also abroad, with help from Verizon! And the NSA used 9/11 to justify all this? This highly critical, exploratory and damning documentary details the roots and aftermath of Edward Snowden's leakage of top secret documents.

Edward Snowden

What is especially telling about "Citizenfour" is that anyone can be on a watchlist - not just any known celebrities or political figures. Top secret documents stipulate that the government looks for catchphrases on google search, facebook, texting - everything is inextricably linked together. Your IPad, IPod and cell phone all have a GPS signal - linked together like a connective web that reveals the depth of the web threads to any single person. Directed by Laura Poitras, herself the subject of consistent surveillance at airports and border crossings with no reason given as to why, the film slowly but surely gets under your skin. Part of the reason she may identify with Snowden is because some of the documentaries she has made, such as her Iraq documentary "My Country, My Country" which was told from the point of view of a Sunni Arab doctor, offer an alternative to the national dialogue on political matters.

Laura received encrypted emails over the period of five months, thanks to her notoriety of being on a watchlist, by an individual known only by the username, Citizenfour. Initially, Poitras was set on a documentary about The War on Terror (which would have culminated in the completion of her post-9/11 trilogy), where she was set to interview investigative journalist for the Guardian, Glenn Greenwald. Later we see Laura (armed with a digital video camera) and Glenn meeting their unknown source (Citizenfour) in a Hong Kong hotel room, along with Ewen MacAskill, a defence and intelligence correspondent for the Guardian. Citizenfour is Edward Snowden, a former CIA analyst and NSA employee who outlines the intricate, massive surveillance on American citizens who speak out and criticize the government in addition to foreign officials and other dignitaries, and how this information is shared with various intelligence factions. Fire alarms are heard in the hotel in one eerie scene of questionable coincidence just before he spills the beans. And after unveiling the damaging evidence, Snowden decides that he has to reveal himself as the source with the hope that the information should take precedence over who the source is. 1.7 million secret documents are discussed, not all are published. Naturally, those who thought Snowden was a traitor were only concerned with the source and bringing him to justice.

Filmmaker Laura Poitras and Guardian journalist Glenn Greenwald

"Citizenfour" is a hallucinatory view of surveillance in general, funneling our worst fears that our privacy is at the behest of analysts in their twenties (Snowden himself was 29 years old at the time) who, we are told by Snowden, watch screens where our privacy is torpedoed and sometimes without full knowledge of the real context. There is also focus on William Binney, a former 30-year NSA analyst who quit his job after 9/11 and blew the whistle because Homeland Security and the NSA were conducting illegal surveillance on citizens who had nothing to do with terrorism.  Privacy is not the central issue in "Citizenfour" - in fact, it is almost of tertiary concern (how often are pictures hacked and shared on a daily basis by anyone who is not affiliated with the government?) Snowden correctly claims that we are afraid as American citizens and residents to speak out on issues for fear of being on a watchlist. The government has 1.5 million people on their watchlist and not just exclusively those who spout rhetoric about our government - who are the rest? Why aren't these people told they are on a watchlist? And that latest statistic comes from another unnamed whistleblower - information that makes even Snowden incredulous.

"Citizenfour" is shot and edited like a 70's thriller, complete with a cryptic voiceover by Laura over shots of an endless tunnel and beautifully composed shots of Glenn Greenwald sitting in a chair in Rio de Janeiro - this is the opening of the film and I thought for a second I was watching something other than a documentary. Once we get to the footage of Snowden in a hotel room, which makes up the bulk of the film, it is riveting, sweat-inducing and unsettling to watch. At one point, Snowden looks out the window and we get the sense that snipers could be targeting him, or maybe he is being watched by someone with binoculars. In fact, he may be asking himself, "where do I go from here?"

Life is nothing but showbiz in 1994

THE APPLE (1980)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

I do admire musicals with eccentricity written all over them. For the uninitiated, I do not mean "The Sound of Music" or straight-as-an-arrow animated classics like "The Lion King." I am talking about "The Rocky Horror Picture Show" and, naturally, the wild shenanigans of "The Apple." "The Apple," for all its dissenters and vocal critics who grant it the status of a "good bad movie," is actually a kinetic, supremely watchable and Biblically-themed sci-fi musical, the likes of which not even "Rocky Horror" could muster.

Catherine Mary Stewart and George Gilmour in "The Apple"

It is 1994 and the Worldvision Song Festival, a sort of early precursor to "American Idol," is looking for hot talent - the kind that can make the targeted audiences' heartbeats literally increase to the magic number, 150. There is a discotheque music group with a dash of hard rock thrown in called BIM that inspires the audience - in actuality, it is all programmed to be consumed by the average person. After BIM performs, a young folksy couple named Alphie and Bibi (George Gilmour, Catherine Mary Stewart in her film debut) sing about love in strains equal to Peter, Paul and Mary and the audience loves it more but Mr. Boogalow (Vladek Sheybal) can't allow that. To backtrack, the movie is set in a future where Mr. Boogalow controls and owns everything - his ideal world is one of temptation, sin and pure glitzy musical numbers. This place (looking a little like West Germany which is where it was filmed) is where BIM stickers shaped like pyramids (New World Order, indeed) are required to be worn by all citizens to control them, where the aging 60's hippies are forced to live in caves, and where a multilingual music promoter like Boogalow can have a group sell records before any recording takes place. Alphie and Bibi are the new recording stars, forced to sign contracts where they sing songs about drugs and uninhibited sexual pleasure. Alphie wants none of this, hoping to score as a love song poet but he is continually rejected. It is implied that love and peace, the latter being a word never uttered in this future, are prohibited - just sell yourself and your body for pleasure. Oh, also, do not eat from the apple.

Not all of "The Apple" makes sense - why does Boogalow give Alphie and Bibi a chance when all they sing about is love? I guess it is to show that the Satanic Boogalow can convert Bibi into some sort of hard rock/disco singer but the songs BIM sings and the ones Bibi covers couldn't be more different - Bibi's "Speed" song serves as satire of America's addiction to consumerism. Would such an Orwellian police state allow such a song? I should think not. Still, despite the film's reputation as an awful musical with cult potential since its inception, I truly enjoyed "The Apple." A sci-fi, supernatural Faustian tale of excess set in a police state with definite Biblical overtones is certainly not the norm, especially one that features The Rapture. The cast performs these songs with gusto (Baby-faced Catherine Mary Stewart's voice was dubbed) - there is also an unbridled and threatening spirit to the film. The future seen in "The Apple" is one of a Satanic cabaret infused with pre-programmed and restrictive music, thus not allowing for free thought. Life is nothing but show business in 1994.  

Jokey 'Murder' misses the boat

MURDER BY THE BOOK (1987)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

It is Robert Hays, with a little help from his alter-ego character and an accomplished supporting cast, who saves "Murder By the Book" from being a largely banal mystery thriller with a simple twist of lemon.

Speaking of banal, Hays plays a best-selling mystery novelist, Hank Mercer, who wishes to retire his romantic 40's detective hero, Biff Degan (also played by Hays). Hank's publisher wants him to reconsider but Hank has other ideas, namely creating a different detective hero. While discussing this in a swanky restaurant, Hank sees a possible crime in progress - an alluring woman (Catherine Mary Stewart) is kidnapped by a wealthy art dealer (Fred Gwynne). Hank gets help from his alter-ego, his detective creation - Biff. Of course, this means there are many scenes where Hank is actually talking to Biff in street corners and cafes while the onlookers believe he is crazy. So does the kidnapped woman whom he eventually saves - her brother created a priceless statue that is being sought. In the midst of this rather thin plot is a matchbook containing microfilm and a police lieutenant of another color, the Columbo kind (Christopher Murney) with the same beige raincoat, who may or may not be what he seems.

Robert Hays and Catherine Mary Stewart in "Murder by the Book"

"Murder By the Book" has a great premise - an author and his detective hero trying to solve a murder case - that often lags behind its plot with some minor digressions. Worse digression is an overlong escape from a Long Island, NY home that belongs in some other movie (sodium pentothal figures into the situation). It would have been worked best to have Biff only speaking to Hank in his mind rather than the imaginary hero frequently appearing in the worst circumstances. Hank must realize that others look at him when he is talking to thin air but nothing comes of this peculiarity - it would have been more comical had Hank done everything to avoid suspicion that he is talking to an imaginary character. A final substandard chase scene in a warehouse looks like something you might have seen in any TV episode of "Starsky and Hutch."

Robert Hays as Biff Degan and Hank Mercer (left to right) in "Murder By the Book"

"Murder By the Book" does benefit from subdued performances by Hays, Fred Gwynne (that booming voice alone is enough to make you sit up and listen), Catherine Mary Stewart as the kidnapped girl with a soft spot for Hank (though her lack of surprise at him talking to the unseen Biff feels off),  Celeste Holm as Hank's mother who wishes he wrote about real-life, and Christopher Murney as the impish lieutenant. The movie is a curiously jokey noir but its story does not have the slyness and mercurial plotting it could have used to really poke fun at the genre. It is safe and fun enough for a family viewing (Stewart in particular could have been infused with far more sultriness) but it is mostly a near-miss. 

Walking the streets of Paris when it rains

MIDNIGHT IN PARIS (2011)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

Ever since Woody Allen departed the Gershwin-ized New York City of neurotic intellectuals for the city of Paris, he changed a little. Woody's filmmaking became liberating, somehow freer as if Manhattan was a heavy weight he had to shake from his shoulders. Not that the characters in "Midnight in Paris" are a new breed - we still got a Woody Allen-type and those fake intellectuals he so adores to put in their place. What the film has is something magical, something more askew that is closer in spirit to "Purple Rose of Cairo," "Alice" or the vastly underrated "Shadows of Fog" than "Manhattan" or "Deconstructing Harry." "Midnight in Paris" is fairly close in spirit to those earlier examples, though not as surefooted or as deep. Still, a good film from the Woodman is better than a bad one.

Owen Wilson plays the Woody Allen-type this time, a writer of Hollywood hack material who aspires to be a novelist. Inez (Rachel McAdams) is Gil's fiancee who wishes Gil would put away such aspirations - she feels he is lacking in a cultural education (a typical Allenism, to be sure). Gil and Inez are visiting Paris but she has no time for love or for walking the Parisian streets when it rains - she'd rather learn about Rodin and Picasso from a Sorbonne professor (Michael Sheen), the fake intellectual. The professor is so willing to prove he is so cultured that he questions a stated fact from a museum tour guide (Carla Bruni - talk about shrewd casting). Gil, meanwhile, has encountered a strange incident, right past the midnight hour. A horse and carriage arrive on the street and the occupants ask him to join in. It turns out that Gil has, well, shall we say, stepped out of his time and into the Paris of the 1920's and meets people like F. Scott Fitzgerald, Gertrude Stein, Salvador Dali, Luis Bunuel, Picasso etc. He is in a world with real novelists, true intellectuals, imaginative painters - a genuine time of excitement and discovery.

It is not fair to reveal much more of "Midnight in Paris" except that Gertrude Stein (Kathy Bates, who also appeared in "Shadows and Fog") reads Gil's manuscript and provides guidance. The trick is that Gil has to appear on a certain street corner at the midnight hour, but is it all real or in Gil's head? I will never tell. As sweet and scrumptious as the atmosphere is that the Woodster has created, "Midnight in Paris" is more of a valentine to an era when creativity and art really took hold and transformed the early 20th century. My issue is that some characters, not the historical artists, lack the spark and bite that can make the material really come alive. Michael Sheen perfectly plays the part of a bearded professor to be sure, but Rachel McAdams as Inez is left on the sidelines - her fiancee role serves to make Gil see that there is a world of opportunity that she can't or won't see. She merely irritates and makes one wonder what Gil saw in her in the first place. Likewise, Inez's parents are shrill and also see no hope in a wannabe novelist as a future son-in-law (though Inez's mother has no qualms about spending a fortune on extravagant chairs for the couple's new home, and the father is a Tea Party supporter). When Inez fights with Gil over moving to Paris, a city she hates, it smacks of tired Allenisms that I have heard one too many times.

When "Midnight in Paris" focuses on the Parisian scene of the 1920's, especially the angelic Marion Cotillard as Picasso's fictional mistress who has a nostalgia for the days of artists like Toulouse Lautrec, I was transported to another world that seemed so romantic that I did not want to leave. I understood how Gil feels when he has to go back to the modern world but the city of Paris seems no different from the past and the present. The city is depicted as intoxicating, winsome and elegant - the film makes you want to visit the city. "Midnight in Paris" has an inspired premise and some wonderful, inspired gags (the one with the detective cracked me up). But it also has the Allenisms that I had hoped the Woodster would've let go of by now - the young couple arguing and bickering over intellectualism and culture feels like refried leftovers from "Annie Hall" onwards. Even then, the last scene is one of the most sweetly romantic in Woody Allen's career. 

Portrait of a Narcissistic Lost Soul

BLUE JASMINE (2013)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

Maybe all Woody Allen needed was a fresh story and an invigorating actress to make his work feel new again. "Blue Jasmine" is a masterstroke, a deeply humanistic and provocative film that deals with characters we may have seen a million times before, but never with such acuity and polish by a master filmmaker who still has some golden nuggets of wisdom to share.

Talkative to the point of irritation, formerly wealthy Jasmine (Cate Blanchett) has just arrived in San Francisco to temporarily live with her sister, Ginger (Sally Hawkins). Jasmine has delusions of grandeur, hoping to meet the right man again after her embezzling, fraudulent investor of a husband (Alec Baldwin) committed suicide. She has no real prospects except to enroll in college and work part-time at a dentist's office. Jasmine disapproves of Ginger's apartment, her life and her new boyfriend, Chili (Bobby Cannavale), a mechanic head-over-heels in love with Ginger. Jasmine considers Chili a loser and hopes Ginger will meet someone else, which she does. Meanwhile, Jasmine starts talking to herself and has flashbacks of her opulent lifestyle.

"Blue Jasmine" may sound like a stiff bore and I can sense someone feeling that we have seen enough movies about wealthy socialites who despise everything that is not upper class. Thankfully the Woodster invests a measure of humanity in Jasmine, also thanks to Blanchett's acute, explosive performance. To Blanchett's credit, we never hate Jasmine but we do see her as nothing more than a pathetic, fragile creature who is out of her natural habitat. She lived a life of lies and never questioned anything her former husband did, that is when he conducted obvious fraud in their home and had love affairs with other women. Fragility underlies Jasmine - a woman whom we would regularly scorn acquires our sympathy. Blanchett is amazing and has a showstopping transformation towards the end that made me quite emotional, something I've not felt in a Woody Allen picture since 1988's "Another Woman" with Gena Rowlands.

Heaps of praise must also go to Sally Hawkins as the compassionate sister whose own love life is in turmoil; Andrew Dice Clay in the most sensitive, colorful performance he has ever had as Ginger's former husband who was bilked out of his lottery savings by Jasmine's ex; Bobby Cannavale as the mechanic who so dearly loves Ginger and cries in a grocery store to win back her love; Peter Saarsgard as a wealthy diplomat who has his eyes on Jasmine, and Louis C.K. who offers solid support as Ginger's occasional bedmate who seems nicer than the character from his "Louie" TV show.

Cate Blanchett informs "Blue Jasmine" in every scene with her idiosyncrasies and little asides - she is a nervous, loquacious spirit who is, possibly, seeking some measure of redemption. Her own son will not talk to her for reasons best left to the viewer. Her memories feel less substantial because her life was superficial before she lost her money. Now she finds people of a different economic state who are more welcoming, including her sister, and she freezes and loses sight of who the real Jasmine is. "Blue Jasmine" is one of the most penetrating and moving portraits of a narcissistic lost soul I've seen in years.

We only get one take!

THE HARD WAY (1991)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

(Originally viewed in 1991)

"The Hard Way" is largely a generic action-comedy with superb performances and oodles of post-modernist goo to give it a slight lift...maybe a slight lift on a swing set as opposed to a large crane. Without Michael J. Fox or James Woods, the movie would sink fast.

Fox is a Nick Lang, a spoiled movie superstar who makes Indiana Jones clones to make people smile. Lang's agent (Penny Marshall, always the scene-stealer) reminds him that it is his job to make people smile, not think about the darker recesses of the human soul (Those are my words, not paraphrasing, but it is implied). Lang wants to break out of the sequel cycle of his "Smoking Gunn" series, mature and make a gritty, realistic cop movie after watching the news and seeing the hard-bitten cop, NY Detective Moss (James Woods). Lang's plan is to research the role of the cop by living and breathing Moss on a 24-hour basis. Need I remind anyone of the formula that has been beaten to death in buddy-buddy cop lore? You know what to anticipate next. Moss is not interested in educating a naive Hollywood star about the inner workings of good detective work, no sir, yet Lang is undaunted by Moss's resistance - Lang is fascinated and records Moss's thoughts and angry tirades in a tape recorder.

It is a shame that 'The Hard Way" does not stick like glue to this concept - here was the brave, postmodernist opportunity to deconstruct Hollywood buddy-buddy cop thrillers/action comedies from the point of view of a movie actor and a real high-wire cop. There are some priceless moments - I love Lang imitating Moss's girlfriend to Moss - but they are few and far in between. The screenplay is more interested in the Party Crasher (Stephen Lang), a serial killer who shoots the derelicts of society especially drug pushers at nightclubs. Too much time is devoted to this grinning one-dimensional maniac, resulting in two extended action scenes towards the end that stop the movie cold.

Annabella Sciorra as Moss's hapless girlfriend exudes a magnetism that is intoxicating - she provides a slight emotional center (for film fans, you will enjoy seeing a very young Christina Ricci as Sciorra's daughter). Fox and Woods make a good team and have fine chemistry - check out Woods towards the end as he comforts a wounded Fox. But the movie loses focus and patience with these electric, dynamic actors, concentrating instead on a plot that is manufactured television fodder at best. I would have preferred if director John Badham and his writers had fun with Lang and Moss on a 24-hour cycle that involved real grit, real shootouts, real violence - a police procedural with wit to give it some oomph. As it stands and as fitfully entertaining as it is, "The Hard Way" often looks and feels like a Nick Lang movie.