Pool-playing as a live-wire act

THE COLOR OF 
MONEY (1986)

Reviewed by 
Jerry Saravia

Robert Rossen's "The Hustler" was one of the moodiest films of the 1960's, a deeply morose film about a hustler named Fast Eddie Felson who wants to make his mark in the pool-playing world. As deeply upsetting and troubling film as it was, it had powerful performances and a seemingly downbeat ending. Martin Scorsese, in stark contrast, made the flashy, elegantly entertaining sequel "The Color of Money" which is not a reprise or a rehash of "The Hustler" - it is story of aging in a world dominated by young hustlers who are always scheming in the background.

Setting the story 25 years after the original film's events, Paul Newman's Fast Eddie Felson is no longer a pool hustler, he's a successful liquor salesman driving a spankingly clean Cadillac. One night at a bar, as he discusses the kegs with his bartender/girlfriend (a stunning Helen Shaver, previously appearing under Scorsese's direction in the "Amazing Stories" episode, "Mirror, Mirror"), Fast Eddie takes notice of Vincent (Tom Cruise), an energetic wind-up toy of a man-child, a hell of a good pool player who lets his ego get in the way. Eddie wants to take Vincent on the road, thinking that a "flake" like Vince is all he needs to get himself and Vince on the road to Atlantic City to play with the majors. With the help of former thief and Vince's girlfriend, Carmen (an electrifying Mary Elizabeth Manstrantonio), Eddie wants to help Vince, to tutor him but not necessarily to win at all the pool halls and clubs they come against - to occasionally "lose like a professional." Getting a loose cannon like Vince to control his ego is like asking Scorsese to dial down his camera moves - it ain't happening.

Most of the "Color of Money" takes the trio on the road as Vince learns that losing is sometimes winning, and that "character" is what it takes to define one as a pool player. With Scorsese at the helm, the film has several elegant camera moves as we enter every pool hall and club with glee - we want to see what pool player will take on Vince and Eddie next - it is all dynamic and punched-up with Scorsese showing pool-playing in ways that are more three-dimensional than 3-D. It doesn't carry the charge of brutality in a sport like boxing did in "Raging Bull" - the charge given off here is electric, dazzling and spirited. In many ways, thanks to lensing by Michael Ballhaus, this "Color of Money" was the precursor to the dynamic, punched-up camera moves of "GoodFellas" (also lensed by Ballhaus). The whole film has the appearance of a jazzed-up concert movie - life itself.

Two intriguing scenes in particular in "The Color of Money" stand out: Fast Eddie telling Carmen to disappear from the bar while Vince plays, and Fast Eddie's own outrage at being hustled without realizing it (Forest Whitaker plays the hustler who feigns his pool-playing technique and possibly feigns stories of medical experiments at a college). It is fascinating to witness the details and backroom intrigue of something as basic as pool-playing. Most of the time Fast Eddie and his young cohorts are acting, playing some traditional games of hustling though Vince is not always quick to catch on.

The performances match the direction of the film. Tom Cruise is a live-wire act who seems to be hypercaffeinated - he has not been this lively again until 1999's "Magnolia." Mary Elizabeth Manstrantonio (Oscar-nominated) is also lively yet her occasional dour expressions show someone who is becoming tired of Vince's act (Fast Eddie notices this early on). And there is nothing like watching Paul Newman who is the very embodiment of aging like fine wine - a class act.

Some critics have confused "The Color of Money" as some sort of adult version of "Rocky" but it is not - Newman's Fast Eddie ultimately drives the film forward since the kid has reinvigorated Eddie. Though there is no payoff at the end (and the film overall is not one of Scorsese's greatest), the film is not exclusively about Eddie and Vince playing pool without hashing out money or turning up the heat on the next hustle. Fast Eddie really wants Vince's best game and it turns out, by the end of the film, he is still the ultimate hustler with a twinkle in his eye.

Super Kid with Blinding Eyes on the run

MIDNIGHT SPECIAL (2016)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

Any time there is the glorified spectacle of a sci-fi story about a kid with magical powers or kid robots or what-have-you, I get skeptical. Firstly, aside from Netflix's own amazingly entertaining and spookily exciting "Stranger Things" (which was itself a hodgepodge of every sci-fi film from the 1980's, including its own self-referential respect towards "E.T.") that focused on a girl with extraordinary powers, I am not fond of kids who might be aliens or have sensory powers beyond any human's control. Dating back to 1985's own empty-headed if still diverting "D.A.R.Y.L" up until Steven Spielberg's own adaptation of Kubrick's ideas with the fabulous "A.I.," there have been few exceptions to the rule. "Midnight Special" is occasionally riveting in the beginning, has some exceptional performances but after it is all over, it is pretty much rampant silliness with a foreboding gloom. It holds your attention but it still needs an injection of extra substance.

A religious cult in Texas, known as the Ranch, is suddenly barricaded by the arrival of FBI agents everywhere. No, it has nothing to do with the cult not paying their fair share of taxes. Apparently, the FBI is on a manhunt for two fugitives harboring a kid with special powers. The kid wears goggles which enables him to keep his destructive eyes that emit penetrating white light in check, unless he sees weather satellites booming above him that he can destroy. Alton Meyer (Jaeden Lieberher) is the special kid who needs to reunite with his own kind, light beings as it were, at some rendezvous (not unlike the finale of "E.T."). Michael Shannon is Roy, the kid's dad, whom we surmise came from the Ranch. Also in tow is Roy's childhood friend, a state trooper (Joel Edgerton), who can drive at night with the headlights off thanks to night vision headgear. Roy and his friend are, of course, the fugitives. We eventually get to meet Alton's mother (Kirsten Dunst), formerly of the Ranch, who really cares for the tyke.

Written and directed by Jeff Nichols ("Loving"), most of "Midnight Special" is an elongated chase picture occasionally punctuated with specks of emotion. The Ranch wants the kid, sending an Amber Alert and some armed goons to locate him (the preacher of the Ranch is played by a far-too-brief appearance by Sam Shepard). The FBI and NSA are also on the kid's tail, in addition to  an NSA analyst (Adam Driver) who demonstrates an acute sense of intuition of the kid's meeting place with alien beings (it's got something to do with numbers). Michael Shannon, Joel Edgerton and Kirsten Dunst rise above the refried beans of a plot - they are fully charged presences on screen although all three could have cracked a smile at least once. It is clear they are always on the run but "Midnight Special" takes itself far too seriously, imbuing much-needed pathos to the proceedings minus some sense of humor. Shannon has such penetrating eyes that suggest someone who has seen it all - he is the heart of the film and it is clear that he's only a dad who wants the best for his son. Edgerton's state trooper is the tough guy who is mesmerized by Alton's gifts. Ditto Kirsten Dunst who sees phosphorescent beauty in her son and in his otherworldly planet. Still, though I understand this takes an emotional toll on the principal characters, they were far too morose for my tastes.

The film is far from a miss (and how could it be with these actors) but it could've used more intimacy overall. After all the endless chases and shootouts are over followed by Shannon's almost otherworldly eyes filled with emotion and weakness, one wonders why this silly sci-fi tale still feels so undernourished.

Brad Pitt almost bares all in Iliad rendition

TROY (2004)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

(Originally viewed on May 15th, 2004)

"Troy" is like a modern sword-and-sandal epic where it is enough for the women to swoon when Brad Pitt appears barechested, and enough for the men to enjoy the fighting (especially if any scantily-clad women are in view). "Troy" has Brad Pitt in more scenes of nudity than any other time in his career, and plenty of sword fighting and armies of warriors fighting ad nauseam. Some of it is mildly enjoyable but the rest is as laughable as "One Million Years B.C."

Based rather loosely on Homer's "The Iliad," the story is set in Ancient Greece where the men and women of Troy wear tie-dye clothing and the rest of the denizens of Sparta wear heavy armor. Orlando Bloom (fresh from his Legolas role in "Lord of the Rings") is Paris, the prince of Sparta who has an illicit affair with Queen Helen of Sparta (Diane Kruger). Unfortunately, Helen is married to Menelaus (Brendan Gleeson), the brother of King Agamemnon (Brian Cox), the latter who wants a war just to have possession of nearby lands. Troy would be a nice addition. Shortly thereafter, Paris whisks Helen away and now, Menelaus and the King have waged a war against Troy. Of course, none of the King's vast army of soldiers are any match against the formidable Achilles (Brad Pitt), the stubborn, reluctant hero who despises the king.

Most of "Troy" is one sprawling battle sequence after another. Occasionally, we get scenes of Brad Pitt baring all for the camera in numerous sex scenes (Bloom is not that lucky). There is also much ado with funeral pyres, dozens of overhead shots of CGI armies running across the landscape against the other armies, masts of ships across the sea, sword fights galore, women with shocked faces as the virile men fight, and so on. If you have seen "Gladiator" and "The Lord of the Rings" then nothing that transpires in this humdrum epic will come as a surprise. What is most surprising is that it is hardly engaging. None of these characters come alive beyond being animatronic wax figures. Only Eric Bana ("Hulk") as Paris's brother, Hector, instills some gravity into his character. And the grandly marvelous face that launched a thousand deserts, Peter O'Toole, shows some inner life and sparkle as King Priam of Troy. Diane Kruger as Helen, the actress who may launch a thousand Vanity Fair magazine covers, has a beautiful face that mostly cowers in tears - certainly Helen of Troy was more than just a sobbing queen.

The screening I attended for "Troy" was met with applause so I guess audiences will love it despite any criticism. But it is like watching "Clash of the Titans" without the magic, the suspense or the adventure (not to mention the angry gods like Apollo or Zeus). Coming from the director of "Das Boot," it is surprising that there is nothing to feast on in this nearly three-hour opus, and there is no real urgent sense of conflict. It may make better sense to read the Homer tales that launched a thousand fans than to watch this overlong wanna-be epic.

Are you not entertained? NO!

GLADIATOR (2000)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

Originally seen in 2000

"Gladiator" is the bloodiest, nauseating, dullest and most old-fashioned gladiator flick in ages - a big thud in director Ridley Scott's career. It is beautifully shot and appropriately murky but also hopelessly, terminally monotonous.

The indefatigable Russell Crowe stars as the stoic Spanish-born Maximus, general of a Roman army, who in the film's brutal opening sequence, lavishes an attack against multitudes of barbarians - his command is "Unleash hell." That phrase sums up the film in a nutshell. Later, Maximus is praised by Emperor Marcus Aurelius (Richard Harris - looking more haggard and drunk than ever) for vanquishing the enemy. The dying Emperor also wants Maximus to succeed him, which causes dissent from the Emperor's devious son, Commodus (Joaquim Phoenix). It is no surprise that Commodus, a weakling who has never seen the gruesome reality of war, kills his father and almost has Maximus killed and guess who becomes the new Emperor?

After Maximus escapes, he is sold as a slave and prepared for death as a gladiator by Proximo (Oliver Reed), a supplier and instructor of gladiators who has seen all kinds of savagery in his heyday. Maximus survives several battles to the death, enough to go to the paramount level - the Colosseum where Commodus is often seen in attendance. Dispensing one of the few clever notions in the screenplay, the Colosseum recreates famous battles yet Maximus ends up beating the odds, to the enormous applause from the audiences who love this kind of spectacle.

"Gladiator" is at heart a revenge story since Maximus wants to kill Commodus for having killed his family and all his friends. But Maximus embodies lots of grunts and excessive moroseness - none of this merits much in the way of empathy or sympathy. His Maximus is a study in complete stoicism from beginning to end but there is not much beyond that - Crowe, an excellent actor, offers no hints of humanity, only vigor. I may be bold for saying this but even Schwarzenegger's Conan had a sense of humor in between his vicious sword-wielding moments.

The action scenes are another problem. In this age of super MTV-split-second edits, the battle scenes in the Colosseum and in the opening sequence are cut so frantically and with such headache-inducing movement that it is difficult to tell what is happening on screen. I suppose director Ridley Scott considers this an experimental approach post-"Saving Private Ryan" but at least in "Ryan," you had some clue as to what was occurring from one shot to the next (both films are from the company Dreamworks). The similarly old-fashioned, silly "Spartacus" was also cohesively shot and edited so that you never lost sight of who was killing whom. Here it is all a jumbled collage of rapid movements causing headaches more than excitement.

"Gladiator" has some decent performances, the best of which is the intense presence of the late Oliver Reed, but the film meanders at such a languid pace that it is often to difficult to stay awake while watching it. Its joyless, somber tone and thin characters makes it a chore to sit through especially at 2 1/2 hours. This may be the first summer blockbuster for the year 2000 but the outlook is not too promising.

Middle-of-the-road Mametspeak

HEIST (2001)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

David Mamet was our god of staccato dialogue in films for a long time. The beauty of the Mametspeak was the fluidity with which the dialogue was said, even if the rhythm involved breaks, turns and interruptions. It used to be that seeing a Mamet film or play was about hearing the dialogue and watching the plot unfold with enough twists and turns to make screwdrivers jealous. Some of that changed when Quentin Tarantino arrived on the scene with his trademark wordplay but Mamet continued to make strong directorial efforts like "American Buffalo" and "The Spanish Prisoner." His latest film, "Heist," seems to lack that spark of Mametspeak that unfolds from his best work where the dialogue fits in with the story where it flows in such a way that you don't notice it.

"Heist" stars the very dependable, 70-year-old Gene Hackman as Joe Moore, an aging, "burnt" robber who screws up his last job when his face is plastered on surveillance cameras during a jewel heist. His employer, Bergman (the even more dependable Danny DeVito), is not as ready to give Joe and his crew a piece of the action until they perform one more heist, relayed to as the "Swiss thing." This drives Joe mad to the point where he is ready to quit by pretending to bungle the preparation for the heist so he can get away. But Bergman's smooth nephew Jimmy (Sam Rockwell) keeps coming back, persuading Joe to take the job. Or maybe Jimmy is interested in Joe's young, pixie-hairdo wife, Fran (Rebecca Pidgeon), who is perhaps as duplicitous as she may look, or maybe not. These scenes show off Mamet at his best, rough and tough and lean with those four-letter words rattling off character's mouths like the unsung poetry of honorable thieves. Therefore, it is a shame to report that the heists themselves are the least interesting aspects of the film.

The actual heist involves the stealing of gold from a cargo plane. Joe along with his motley crew, Bobby (Delroy Lindo) and Pinky (Mamet regular Ricky Jay), are along for the ride though they sense Joe may be running out of steam and is too old to cut the mustard. That is what the naive Jimmy thinks as does Fran, but part of the beauty of the film is that seeing is not always believing. That is right! We are back in the Mamet world of con artists who devise one scheme after another. Mamet seems to be asking how honorable are thieves when outside parties are involved. Some of these scenes work so well that they could have led to a different film altogether. The whole set-up where they plan the heist and then defy the odds by faking errors is as delightful a scene as Mamet has written in a while. I also like the tension during a fake construction crew set-up where a cop appears asking questions. I also heartily enjoyed the initial steps leading to the robbing of the cargo plane where Joe pretends to be a security guard. And anytime Jimmy was physically beaten by Joe, as if Jimmy was made of papier mache, I was delighted. But something is off. The dialogue often, if not always, sounds like witty exchanges or one-liners that anyone on Saturday Night Live might have conjured up, not Mamet. For example, we hear lines like, "he is so cool that sheep count him." Or how about, "she could talk her way out of a sunburn." The best line is when Bergman hollers at Joe on the phone and says, "You know why people need money. Because it is money." The film's context is summed up in that one line but the rest could have been written with more punch by Tarantino.

It's been said that every story has been told already. But "Heist" is already one of three heist pictures of 2001. I guess I am sick and tired of the cliched adage about the old pro who wants to do one last job and slip away and live comfortably. Mamet does little to make it invigorating or dissimilar from any other crime picture in the last decade or so, and even the heists themselves are not as fresh or tense as the ones in "The Score" or "Topkapi" for that matter. I would have preferred if Mamet had chosen not to show the heists and instead focused deeply on the characters and their intentions.

Do not fret for those of you reading this review. I certainly recommend "Heist" because of the grand cast of actors involved not to mention some terrific individual scenes. But coming from the man who brought us "House of Games" and "Oleanna," this film seems more like middle-of-the-road Mamet than the Mamet we are used to.

Gitmo and deer remains equal grossly misguided sequel

HAROLD AND KUMAR ESCAPE FROM GUANTANAMO BAY (2008)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

The first "Harold and Kumar" movie was admittedly a guilty pleasure but it was also unexpectedly funny and had two likable characters - a sort of latter-day Cheech and Chong with an even stronger stoner mentality. This new "Harold and Kumar" movie is not as charming and hardly as funny, emphasizing gross gags of the most puerile kind over any sort of intimacy the first film had.

I know, I know, you might be shaking your head and saying, "Intimacy?" Yes, well, the first movie was a roller-coaster ride full of belly laughs along the way yet it also asked us to care about Harold (John Cho) and Kumar (Kal Penn) and their misadventures. In "Escape From Guantanamo Bay," the Mary Jane duo are mistaken for terrorists in an airplane headed to Amsterdam, thanks to an advanced glass bong that Kumar brought along and tries to smoke in the bathroom! So we get a few scenes in Guantanamo Bay where they are interrogated and forced to submit to oral sex with the burly prison guards (some of this elicits more of a wince than a chuckle). Eventually, within the first twenty minutes, Harold and Kumar manage to escape good old torturous Gitmo and head for Texas where Kumar's ex-girlfriend is marrying a right- wing yuppie, who believes in snorting Xanax (okay, that is funny.) Not so humorous is a KKK rally headed by Christopher Meloni as the wizard, and a decidedly unfunny homage to "The Goonies" with a one-eyed bastard child that lives in the basement of a deer hunter's house. And, I might add, that a deer-killing scene made me cringe - it would've been funnier if the hunter missed and the bullet hit a tree that collapsed and nearly crushed the doe's nuts. Well, maybe not but that is the kind of humor I expected. Seeing blood splatter on Harold's face is very, very cringe-inducing.

That is the central problem with this Harold and Kumar entry - it made me cringe more often than laugh. There are bodily fluids, flatulence sounds galore, male and female frontal nudity from the waist down, lots of bong hits (though not as many as I expected), sexual escapades of all sorts, an unwatchable brothel sequence with Neil Patrick Harris as Neil Patrick Harris and Beverly D'Angelo as the madam, and on and on.

To be fair, I enjoyed the racial stereotyping scenes - they were all smart and clever, particularly the airport sequence which is as hysterical as anything else in the entire movie. I also liked Kumar's past reminiscences of his ex-girlfriend, Vanessa (Daneel Harris), who introduced Kumar to drugs in the first place! Had the film focused more on that relationship and less on the unevenly paced trip to Texas (including a literal bumping in with George W. Bush), the movie might have been a real winner.

"Harold and Kumar Escape from Guantanamo Bay" is not a total washout and it is not a bad stoner comedy. It does have its heart in the right place occasionally with respect to the lead characters - they are too likable to dismiss. But the movie scores more misses than bong hits to the belly. Let's say that the right herbal ingredients were not used this time.

Dude, Where's My Burger?

HAROLD AND KUMAR GO TO WHITE CASTLE (2004)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

A title like "Harold and Kumar Go to White Castle" seems unheard of. I was expecting another in the long line of unfunny pot comedies like "How High" and "Orange County." I was tickled by the funny bone on this movie - "Harold and Kumar Go to White Castle" is a tasty treat. I wouldn't say that I felt I had to see it but even though it is nothing special, it is funnier than most movies of its ilk.

The bashful Harold (John Cho) is a hard-working Wall Street analyst who is always getting an extra workload from his boss. Kumar (Kal Penn) intentionally botches every medical school interview because he just wants to get high and eat White Castle burgers. What are two guys to do on a Friday night? Well, they have to run to White Castle, but they can't find one in New Brunswick, NJ (there actually is one there). Panic enters their periphery when they inadvertently watch people get beat up in Newark, NJ (talk about a wrong turn!) As they drive searching for White Castle, they encounter a few bullies who thrash convenience stores; an out-of-control raccoon; students at Princeton who are either flatulent (as in battleship flatulence) or sell dear Mary Jane; fast cheetahs; irate police officers; a freakish tow truck driver; nymphets; strangers urinating in bushes, and actor Neil Patrick Harris - that's right, our own Doogie Howser. Let's not forget there is also a discussion on Katie Holmes's breasts.

"Harold and Kumar" depends on one's tolerance for watching two guys with nothing to do except the desire to eat burgers. Though there are some gross gags and one too many homosexual jokes, Cho's Harold and Penn's Kumar are likable enough and have their own personal problems to iron out. Harold has to work the nerve to ask a pretty neighbor out, and Kumar has to grow up and show his father he can be responsible and become a hell of a good physician.

For those who can get past its lulls and very slight overlength (despite an 88 minute running time, some trimming would have made it special), "Harold and Kumar" is good enough to make one wish it were tastier.