A Holy Sci-Fi Mountain of Staggering Possibilities

JODOROWSKY'S DUNE (2013)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

There are many "what if" films - films that never came to fruition for one reason or another. David Lean never got around to filming the epic Joseph Conrad novel "Nostromo," for example. Stanley Kubrick never got around to his version of "Napoleon." Orson Welles has one too many films that never got beyond the writing stage - never mind the films he never completed. What is indelibly fascinating about Alejandro Jodorowsky's "Dune" is that we see the blueprints for a phantasmagoric, spellbinding, absolutely beautiful and mystical sci-fi film that could have changed the genre forever, that could have shown filmgoers that "2001: A Space Odyssey" was a mere footprint in what could be accomplished visually with science-fiction. It never happened but this riveting documentary shows what might have been.

Frank Herbert's epic 1965 book, "Dune," was floating around the Hollywood barn, optioned by one producer who died before it lifted off. In the early 1970's, Alejandro Jodorowsky bought the rights to it, sensing a film that would approach the level and visual sensation of hallucinogens (much like the drug of choice in the book, the fictional "spice"). Jodorowsky makes it clear that he hoped to transport audiences to something truly out-of-this-world and transcendent and, in fact, we do see illustrations of what might have been in a thick book he keeps in his office. The colors look psychedelic (lots of pink), the erratically designed ships look like something out of a heavy metal cover album, the characters look otherworldly - in short, I am not sure any actual sci-fi films since look anything like Jodorowsky's vision. I can go further and say nobody else made films that look anything like Jodorowsky's actual films whether it is his most famous film, the most bizarre, religiously symbolic western ever made,"El Topo," or his hallucinatory "The Holy Mountain." They are films made by a, for lack of a better phrase, eccentric genius or simply a genius stuck in a drug-fueled state of his own mind.

The hope for the Chilean visionary was to cast people like Orson Welles as the obese Baron Harkonnen, Mick Jagger, David Carradine, and Salvador Dali as the Emperor (who had wanted to be paid $100,000 a minute so that he could be the highest paid actor in history). Dali, by the way, also requested a burning giraffe be on the set (now that sounds like a Jodorowsky invention). The hopes of this most ambitious artist were dashed when the executives liked what they saw in terms of pre-production and extraordinarily visual detail but did not see dollar signs in terms of box-office, especially if it was to be 15 hours long! Jodorowsky didn't understand why the financiers backed out, and why Dino DeLaurentiis bought the rights and instead made a hideously boring "Dune" in 1984 with director David Lynch at the helm.

There is a strong case here to be made that those visuals, meticulously drawn and detail-oriented by supreme talents like H. R. Giger, Chris Foss, and Jean Giraud, were the inspiration for similar shots in films such as  "Star Wars," "Raiders of the Lost Ark," "Prometheus," etc. Most telling is Jodorowsky's description of the opening shot of the film, an unbroken take through the universe and its cosmos (Robert Zemeckis' "Contact" opens with such a similarly splendid sequence). Director Frank Pavich gives us a strong, healthy, ripe for rediscovery, 84-year-old Alejandro whose vision had to be that of a madman - the implied message that only a madman could make "Dune." It is sad to note that we never got that madness on screen.

Everyday is a Winding Road

ERIN BROCKOVICH (2000)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

(Originally reviewed in 2000)

There is no other female star as watchable as Julia Roberts - no matter what film she is in, she is indeed the sparkling star whom can't take our eyes off. She sometimes makes good films ("Notting Hill," "My Best Friend's Wedding") and rotten films ("Runaway Bride," "Sleeping With the Enemy"). Count her latest "Erin Brockovich" as one of her best, a conventional but unquestionably spirited and entertaining romp showcasing Julia's qualities to full flowering effect. She burns on screen with such radiance, beauty and toughness that the film will leave you beaming in phosphorescent delight.

Julia stars as Erin Brockovich, a real-life crusader who went against all odds and came back as a winner of justice. At the beginning of the film, Erin is desperately trying to get a job and uses her persuasive, feminine skills to get one (she fakes resumes to obtain interviews). She fails, ends up in a car accident, and gets a lawyer (Albert Finney) who fails to get her compensation for her neck brace. Erin is so overwhelmed with anger that she confronts the lawyer, Ed Masry, and convinces him to give her a job in his shabby L.A. office. She is after all a divorced, single mom with starving kids, but her attitude and flashy clothes, not to mention excessive cleavage, causes her fellow employees to take notice. After sifting through a pro bono case involving the company Pacific Gas & Electric in a nearby town named Hinkley, Erin discovers that deposits of a lethal substance called chromium had been placed in the water causing various tumors and other afflictions in the townspeople. She investigates and questions the townsfolk, and before you know it, she is knee deep in the water literally pulling a dead frog out as evidence.

Erin's personal life has its ups and downs. She reluctantly has a babysitter named George (Aaron Eckhart from "In the Company of Men"), a biker with multiple tattoos, a bandana and a big grin, but he is also a very nice guy and falls in love with Erin - the character is refreshingly cliche free of what we expect to see from hardcore bikers. After a while, George becomes the caretaker rather than the boyfriend since Erin is on her endless adventurous crusade against PG&E. Will Erin realize that her work is less important than her family, or will she fight to the bitter end and lose the multi-million dollar court case? This may be the stuff of a Lifetime TV drama, and I only wish that writer Susannah Grant devoted a little more attention to this inevitably fractured relationship. There is an uneasy balance between Erin's case and her home life, especially since George almost disappears from the story.

What makes "Erin Brockovich" special is Julia, and she cuts a dazzling figure out of this character. She is tough, funny, sexy, charming, rude, obnoxious, warm, caring, tender, flirtatious - my goodness, what a delight to see such a real, intoxicating woman on screen for once! Julia disappears into the role so well that we forget it is Julia, the movie star. For the first time in years, Julia acts with tremendous, dramatic force.

Albert Finney is also pleasurably engaging as the haggard Masry, and his double-take reactions to Erin's behavior and inappropriate language are priceless. Another miraculous performance is by Marg Helgenberger as Mrs. Jensen, one of the Hinkley townspeople afflicted with cancer - her porch scene with Julia is as moving as one can expect.

Director Steven Soderbergh, known for nonlinear puzzles like "The Limey" and "Schizopolis," effectively taps into Julia's high-wire act to keep things afloat. If the screenplay took more chances with such a conventional storyline, it might have been a more winning character study. As it is, Soderbergh allows for some occasional jump cuts during Erin's frantic moods, and a burnished glow to the desert scenes in L.A. that makes one feel the heat and humidity. And Julia creates an inspiring character - an uneducated, strong, honest woman who used her brains and beauty to uncover corruption and to save people whom she cared about. Inspiring indeed.

Making an unbreakable promise

THE PLEDGE (2001)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

Originally reviewed in Jan. 2001

After seeing Sean Penn's latest directorial effort, "The Pledge," I am convinced that Penn can work equally well on both sides of the camera. He is an exceptionally superb actor but his first two films as a director, "The Indian Runner" and "The Crossing Guard," showcased his stunning ability to write sharply defined characters and to know how to get the most out of his actors. He has had the macho ethic of actors like Dennis Hopper, Charles Bronson, David Morse and, yes, Jack Nicholson diminished in favor of showing men grappling with the sins of their past. Nicholson is the star of "The Pledge," and it is his most gripping portrayal yet in what remains Penn's best film by far.

Nicholson is the retired Nevada cop Jerry Black, a man torn by the latest savage murder of a little girl. The night of his retirement party is the night he chooses to investigate the case, despite the averse reactions of the hotshot detective Stan Krolak (Aaron Eckhart) and his former boss (Sam Shepard). A mentally challenged Indian (Benicio Del Toro) is seen at the scene of the crime and is forced to confess to the murder but Jerry doesn't buy it - he feels the real killer is still on the loose. And to temporarily relieve his retirement, Jerry makes a pledge to the dead girl's mother (a devastatingly fierce Patricia Clarkson) to find the killer.

I know what you are all going to say - the same old story about a cop resting on his gut instincts to solve one last case. "The Pledge" stars off as a routine cop story but what unfolds afterwards is stimulating, haunting and unpredictable. This is no ordinary movie-of-the-week and it is no action thriller - it is, my goodness, an existential character study of one man's pledge and obsession leading to madness and despair. Sounds too depressing? Well, yes, but who says all movies need to end in happy endings?

As the film progresses, Jerry buys a gas station following a hunch that the killer resides in a nearby county. There is also the suspected car model deduced from the dead girl's drawing of a tall man who gave her porcupine chocolates. I will not say much more except that Jerry meets the local town waitress (Robin Wright-Penn) and his intentions with her and her own daughter are not what they seem.

"The Pledge" is full of symbolic montages, beautifully lush scenery, and Penn's typical slow-motion scenes punctuated by moments of silence. One terrific moment is likely to be missed where a long shot of Jerry fishing on a lake with a rainbow in the distance mirrors one of the dead girl's drawings. I also love the scene where Jerry breaks the news to the girl's parents in a turkey farm - a typical scene, powerfully executed.

Nicholson uses admirable restraint as Jerry Black, in lieu of his trademark persona, for a complex portrait of a man who may be losing his marbles investigating a seemingly no-win case. He shares some great scenes with actors like Vanessa Redgrave as the dead girl's teacher, Helen Mirren as a child psychologist, Tom Noonan as the local Reverend, Harry Dean Stanton as the owner of a gas station, and Mickey Rourke in a heartfelt performance as the dad of one of the murdered girls in town.

"The Pledge" begins with Nicholson scratching his legs and muttering to himself, and the frustration the character feels slaving away at this murder case is felt by the audience. "The Pledge" is a pessimistic, tough-minded film that stays on course through its existential journey. For the last year or so, I've been saying that in this postmodern world of cinema, irony has replaced existentialism and that stories are now bereft of the risks they used to take, particularly with characters as unsentimental as Jerry. "The Pledge" is proof that some directors are willing to take the plunge into the sea of despair without making compromises. Bravo Sean Penn!

Worn-out tequila sunrise

THE BORDER (1982)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

Tony Richardson's "The Border" is two movies in one - a scathing criticism of the border patrol agents in El Paso, Texas and a human story of salvation. The criticism works in spades, the salvation story just barely.

Jack Nicholson plays Charlie Smith, an exasperated border patrol cop from L.A.,who has just accepted a new job in El Paso, TX after living in a trailer with his money-hungry wife (Valerie Perrine). Of course, her idea of money-hungry is living in shared quarters with another border cop and his wife, and revitalizing their rather cramped quarters into a dream house by buying a new plastic-sealed couch on credit. The fellow border cop is Cat (Harvey Keitel), a man involved in shady dealings with the illegal immigrants. There is no real dilemma on immigration presented here - it merely states the corruption of these cops with dollar signs when it comes to smuggling people and buying newborn babies for wealthy families. Cat and his superiors are involved (including a far too brief performance by Warren Oates) and it pays their way, including allowing some illegals do work as day laborers, but it is all a front - money is the motive and murder is occasionally a necessary evil. The Rio Grande is the dividing line.

Charlie wants nothing to do with it - his conscience is put to the test. Should he turn a blind eye and allow such injustice, including the selling of a baby from one unfortunate, caring mother (Elpidia Carrillo, who says more with a look than a line of dialogue)? Or will Charlie kowtow to their efforts and keep doing a job that is useless and uncertain so as to keep his wife happy? Unfortunately, the symptomatic problem of this illegal operation is barely given much depth. The illegals, with the exception of Carrillo, become background fodder and the movie never illuminates the issues. It is all in the service of a suspense thriller by the end with two unsatisfactory freeze-frames that seemingly resolve the salvation of a character, yet further dim the narrative.

Nicholson works up a fever pitch of a performance, especially scenes with Perrine where he begins to wonder about the status of his life. Mostly Nicholson is watchable but rather forgettable in the role - had he switched parts with Harvey Keitel, I would have had more sympathy with Keitel as Charlie. Still, for a film that touches on the immigration problem at all (and let us not forget that it is still an issue today), it is passable entertainment but it just misses the mark of making the most of a pressing issue.

Money trumps art in 1930's Hollywood

THE LAST TYCOON (1976)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

Elia Kazan's last film is not a full-bodied portrait of a film producer losing his way in the 1930's Hollywood. Based on F. Scott Fitzgerald's last incomplete novel, "The Last Tycoon" is a largely a series of pauses, silences and whispers in isolated room interiors - there is a claustrophobic feeling to the film even at the site of an unfinished construction of a beach house.

Monroe Stahr (Robert De Niro) is the Irving Thalberg-like movie studio chief who has a penchant for trimming and reshooting certain films to achieve something passable - he takes these projects as his personal vision, sometimes hiring and firing writers and directors at will. The movie revels in the pitch meetings and studio screenings where everyone waits to hear Monroe's word - can a film sink or swim depending on Monroe's mood that day? He does face an uphill battle - the union, the movie executives and such are concerned about ballooning budgets and last-minute revisions and reshoots. The name of the game is money and Monroe Stahr is too concerned with the writers' process and making personal statements, all of which is slowly seeping away in a New Hollywood.

Monroe is a workaholic but he does notice a lovely presence on the set one day - a young starlet in
the making perhaps named Kathleen Moore (Ingrid Boulting). She is a ravishing presence who is soft-spoken and has no phone number. Monroe is taken by her and, in some of the most romantic scenes I've seen from director Elia Kazan in ages, he tries to seduce her in that unfinished beach house. There is a certain artificiality to these scenes and that is what makes them leap from the screen - a "dream" romance that could be Monroe's imagination at work.

Written by Harold Pinter, "The Last Tycoon" is not on the same list of other monumental Kazan films but I did appreciate its understated, low-keyed qualities. De Niro also proves his worth as an elegant romantic leading man (certainly a 180 from his Travis Bickle role the same year) and it is marvelous to watch him play such an emotionally restrained character. Added to Kazan's gallery of extraordinary cast members are Robert Mitchum as an executive who sees Monroe losing his grasp of reality; Jeanne Moreau as a Joan-Crawford type (or maybe Bette Davis) actress who demands retakes; an exquisite Jack Nicholson as a union organizer; the wonderful debut of Theresa Russell as Mitchum's flirty daughter; Tony Curtis as an impotent movie star, and lastly Donald Pleasence as the drunk screenwriter who is convinced by Monroe, albeit briefly, that movies can sing when it is all about the images.

There is a profound sadness to "The Last Tycoon" and, in its own muted palette of earth tone colors, you get the impression that the excitement of making movies is withering away - it is becoming a business where personality is trumped by economics. 

Kemo sabe has uneven spirit

THE LONE RANGER (2013)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

"The Lone Ranger" is hardly a total washout but it has tonal shifts the size of bulldozers trying to operate during a rampaging tornado season. Within the first hour, the film works wonders, appropriating the right tone and spirit of that Masked Man. The middle section has too much padding and unnecessary twists and too many villains, and then the finale works up its old-fashioned spirit again.

We are back in Colby, Texas with John Reid (Armie Hammer), a John Locke admirer, as the attorney who is deputized as a Texas Ranger by his brother, Dan (James Badge Dale). Before you know it, the next reel sets in with the escape of the nasty, murderous Butch Cavendish (William Fichtner), a cannibal of all things. The Rangers approach the Cavendish gang's hideout and guns are ablazin', and I imagine most Lone Ranger fans know what happens next. John Reid is the only surviving Ranger, saved by Tonto (Johnny Depp), a smart Comanche warrior who senses the Ranger is just another dumb white man. A mask is adorned by John, the white horse Silver appears, a silver bullet is created by Tonto, need I say more? Apparently so, because the story segues into a plot involving a fearless railroad tycoon (Tom Wilkinson), the Cavalry killing a bunch of Comanches, and the separation of Tonto from Lone Ranger for far too long. When they reunite, there is a lot of humorous bickering between them but not much in the way of chemistry. Still, how can a Ranger compete with Johnny Depp's inspired performance.

Directed by Gore Verbinski ("Pirates of the Caribbean"), "The Lone Ranger" is moderately entertaining though there are a couple of lulls before the story gets revved up again. The main issue is the tone which is everywhere except where it needs to be. Part of the charm of "The Lone Ranger" is that it was always meant to be old-fashioned escapism where the Masked Man followed a certain moral code (never kill anyone) and Tonto was always his second banana. This version has Tonto in fierce defiance of his white friend, and I appreciate that they took it in that direction. Aside from that difference, the movie is practically a Warner Bros. cartoon, especially in the endless train collisions and derring do of the final act. But the movie also features a Butch Cavendish who eats the heart of his murdered victims, and there are rabbits with canine teeth who must have run away from the set of "Night of the Lepus"! There is also the slaughter of a whole tribe that doesn't mesh with the cartoonish violence we see throughout. All this told from the point-of-view of a Tonto posing as a mannequin at a 1930's San Francisco Fair! Huh?

If nothing else, this bastardized yet colorful version is ten times better than the dull 1981 remake. But there is no comparing to the real Lone Ranger - the one and only Clayton Moore who made him iconic. Armie Hammer is no Clayton Moore, yet Johnny Depp stands up to the task in his revisionist update of that most noble savage, Tonto. I enjoyed about 6/10 of this bizarre popcorn movie but its infrequent and brutally violent elements and severely uneven tone almost ruin what could have been a far livelier adventure movie. 

Teaching 10,000 stars how not to dance

LIFE ITSELF (2014)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

I had been toying with the idea of whether I should review "Life Itself" or not. My memories of growing up with Siskel and Ebert during the 1980's made such a review almost too emotional. Out of respect to the film critic of the stars, I had to do it - review the film, not my nostalgic memory. Viewers familiar/unfamiliar with the late film critic Roger Ebert will find "Life Itself" a fascinating, almost voyeuristic and deeply penetrating documentary from acclaimed director Steve James ("Hoop Dreams," Ebert's pick for best film of 1994). An expose of the Chicago Sun-Times film critic who was the other half of the Siskel and Ebert at the Movies show, it is unforgettable, sad and explicitly honest. Another plus - it does not judge the critic himself.

Much has been written about Ebert, especially his prolific essays on politics, book bans and much more in the latter years before his death. He was also an avid film viewer who loved movies with a passion, and loved his wife Chaz just as much. Ebert is also the screenwriter who worked on the infamous "Beyond the Valley of the Dolls" by Russ Meyer (a film Siskel hated). It is interesting to note that Ebert had also been active as a writer of hot-button political issues long before film criticism became his mainstay, specifically writing for his college newspaper on civil rights and the unfortunate church bombing that included the deaths of four young black girls. Doubly interesting are Ebert's bouts of alcoholism, far worse than even I had ever heard before, and his dates with women that were a far cry from what his saloon pals expected.

The documentary also manages to capture the rivalry between Ebert and his co-partner and Chicago Sun-Times film critic in their popular TV show, Gene Siskel, yet it was not a bitter rivalry (Siskel was present at Ebert's wedding). Still, acrimony to some degree existed, as in Siskel's amazing attempts to get certain celebrities' interviews before Ebert did. Yet Ebert was also the first film critic to ever win the Pulitzer Prize and he was an expected and strong presence at the Cannes Film Festival for many years. There is no shying away from the fact that Ebert considered himself the best at what he did (I do recall Premiere Magazine once quoting Ebert as saying he was the best film critic in the world) - his arrogance was paramount. Ebert also championed smaller, independent filmmakers and, thus, was not nearly as populist as many had thought. Though he did not change his mind on his pans of "Blue Velvet," "Full Metal Jacket" and "A Clockwork Orange" (Chaz Ebert's favorite film by the way) through the years, he remained committed to his opinions and justified them.

Viewing "Life Itself" can be an overwhelmingly emotional experience, especially for myself. To watch Ebert struggle with his thyroid cancer and lose his most useful tool - his voice - can be especially tough on the average fainthearted viewer who cannot stand to watch people suffer (something that Ebert knew all too well). His writing got stronger though - he was never at a loss for words - and that is the most welcoming and appreciative element of the film. Had it not been for Roger Ebert during the 1980's, I would never have considered writing film reviews. I owe much to him and I am sorry I never expressed to that him, via email or in person. "Life Itself" appreciates the man himself and the critic who expressed his disgust for bad cinema and his love for passionate labors of love. I can only hope that Ebert is having a passionate discourse with Stanley Kubrick up above on how to teach 10,000 stars not to dance. Siskel might find that discussion boring and give it a thumbs down.