Whipping a drummer into shape

WHIPLASH (2014)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia
Originally published in Steel Notes Magazine

 I can’t tell you when teaching methods in schools changed but I can say that the early 1990’s, the birth of that most distasteful phrase “political correctness” was the start of when all schools adopted the phrase “Good job” because the effort was seemingly enough. When I went to high school in the 1980’s, a sufficiently good job on your grades usually meant a mediocre grade. A solid B or even B+ was pooh-poohed upon – if I got those grades today, I might be seen as a genius. When it came to art, painting or photography or filmmaking, a good grade was hardly meritorious. What did the student accomplish that could lead to then becoming the future Monet, the future Ansel Adams, or the future Stanley Kubrick? Could their artistic potential be pushed to punishing extremes? That is at the heart of the harsh, furiously entertaining and intensifyingly dramatic “Whiplash,” a sort of “Full Metal Jacket” depiction on prestigious jazz bands dealing with an abusive instructor who would give R. Lee Ermey a heart attack.

How abusive is this instructor? He hurls chairs at his students, berates them with homophobic slurs, and punishes the drummers to such an extent that their hands are bloodied at the end of an exhausting rehearsal session. The late Who drummer Keith Moon might have thrown a chair at this instructor or set fire to his own cymbals in protest. J.K. Simmons is Terence Fletcher, a notable jazz conductor at the fictional Shaffer Conservatory in New York. Fletcher is looking for the next Buddy Rich, the legendary jazz drummer with a short temper, but he is of little faith in students whom he considers wimps. As a pretext, Fletcher recounts the story of how legendary drummer Jo Jones threw a cymbal at the young alto saxophonist, Charles “Yardbird” Parker. As Terence tells it, if Parker had simply been told, “Good job,” he might not have reached the depths of his own power of playing the sax – the Bird might not have excelled and perfected his techniques. Salient observation, but does throwing chairs and slapping students help them to excel and go beyond their futile attempts to impress the teacher? I should think not (some current jazz musicians and teachers consider the movie to be a little too over-the-top.)

Andrew Neyman (Miles Teller) is the harangue upon, abused and exasperated drummer who aspires to be Buddy Rich and relentlessly plays Hank Levy’s classic “Whiplash” with great ferocity and passion. Neyman is probably good enough, but Mr. Fletcher sees more behind the kid’s talent. The kid could be great, not just solidly good or perhaps “mediocre.” Fletcher’s abusive tactics are his way of seeing behind the students’ masks, manipulating their familial problems to his advantage to get the best out of his them. Neyman himself is not an easy kid to like – he assumes he will be great and has a superiority complex to most of his family. He has trouble maintaining a dating relationship with a movie theatre concession stand clerk (Melissa Benoist from TV’s “Supergirl”) because he has to work as hard as Charlie Parker, sometimes 15 hours a day. His hands bleed and, in one climactic moment prior to a jazz competition, he gets into a car accident and still manages to play, well, just barely while he suffers a head wound followed by a physical assault on Fletcher.

The tyrannical Fletcher doesn’t display many emotions except anger and violence. Every time we see him appear, my stomach felt as if a weight was placed in it and my hands got sweaty. You subjectively feel like Andrew Neyman throughout the film and your blood pressure might go right through the roof whenever he is taunted by Fletcher. J.K. Simmons has a special gift for playing what could have been a demonic, hateful character; he shows empathy and has a powerful charisma that burns the screen with hot vitality. It is no wonder he won the Best Supporting Actor Oscar, his Fletcher is not cut out of the sentimental vein of “Mr. Holland’s Opus” or any other nicer teachers from our cinematic past. The film doesn’t shy away from suggesting that Fletcher’s tactics are not the most instrumental in shaping any talented performer but his insatiable need to find and root out greatness is definitely clear.

Written and directed by Damien Chazelle (based on his own experiences at Princeton), “Whiplash” is not for ordinary audiences and it is not for parents who feel that every kid nowadays should win an award for “making an effort.” It is not an easy film to digest but most great films don’t always make it easy for audiences. There is a respect that develops between teacher and student and the finale, an emotional powerhouse with jazz drumming that has the relentless tempo of the movie itself, is sure to leave you drained. You may not like these two characters but you can identify and respect their search for pushing the limits. Neyman and Fletcher are two characters that will remain in my cinematic crosshairs for some time. Good job, great film.

Dropped in to see the condition of my rug

THE BIG LEBOWSKI (1998)

A 20th Anniversary appreciation by Jerry Saravia

The Coen Brothers have always defied expectations in their cutthroat, very precise approach to genres, making films that look and feel as they were made by nerds who chuckle when people leave frustrated by what they have just seen. Some of their films manage this feat with spectacular results ("Barton Fink," "A Serious Man," "Fargo") and others are plainly bad and highly uneven ("O' Brother Where Art Thou?", "Intolerable Cruelty"). "The Big Lebowski" is somewhere much higher. It is not an easy film to describe but I guess you could call it a stoner noir comedy and even that doesn't fully define it. It is often very funny, has thrillingly inventive visuals, terrific soundtrack, eye-popping performances, is extremely crude and contains Tara Reid's best, liveliest performance. It is slacker porn (my term), basically a movie that is pure pot-bellied humor, emphasis on pot, and has purposely leisured pacing because the characters speak as if they just had a joint.

Well, not all the characters. John Goodman is the boisterous, maniacal Vietnam Vet Walter who is paranoid and sees conspiracies everywhere, and can get you a severed toe by lunch. He screams expletives at every turn, even screaming "Fuck You Donny!" to Steve Buscemi's more mellow Donny. They all frequent the bowling alley, which of course includes the title character, the harmless, White-Russian imbibing Lebowski (Jeff Bridges), the royal Dude, the righteous Dude, or the Dude who Abides or just plain dude, if you are into the whole brevity thing. It is the strangest performance of Bridges' career and possibly his most iconic, maybe even the purest. He not only symbolizes a pot-smoking slacker, he is POT! You could smoke Bridges' character and feel relieved and stress-free. Watching him on screen gives you a relaxed feeling, so that is why I call this film the first real Slacker Porn flick because Bridges epitomizes it.

The plot all comes down to one specific detail - some hired thugs have urinated on the Dude's rug. The Dude wants a new rug from another Lebowski, a wheelchair-bound and grumpy millionaire (David Huddleston), whom the Dude was mistaken for. It turns out that Big Lebowski's wife, Bunny (Tara Reid), was kidnapped and all that is given to the millionaire is her severed green-painted toe as a reminder she is still alive. But was she really kidnapped and was that her actual toe? Eventually, we get more hired thugs, some German nihilists, a ferret attacking the Dude in his tub, a dream sequence involving bowling balls and Saddam Hussein (!), a British Julianne Moore who wants coitus with the Dude, lots of pot ingestion, cremated remains blown away in the wrong direction, odd and memorable music selections from Yma Sumac and Kenny Rogers, a dapper Ben Gazzara, a fantastic Sam Elliott as the narrator, and much more.

"The Big Lebowski" is not just a crazy flick, it is the craziest, wildest, oddest and most insanely entertaining film that the Coens have ever made. Ever since its low box-office numbers in its theatrical release back in March of 1998, the film achieved an understandable cult status and remains one of the most quotable films of the 1990's. Without it, you would not have half of the other alleged noir pot comedies that have come and gone in its wake, like the overrated shenanigans of "Pineapple Express" which never found a consistent tone or the equally tone deaf "30 Minutes or Less" or P.T. Anderson's goofball boredom of "Inherent Vice." I could say so much more but I won't, you know, if you are into the whole brevity thing.

National Lampoon's Sometimes it Sucks to be Human

A FUTILE AND STUPID GESTURE (2018)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

Is it too real or too funny? That is the question, one I asked myself of Milos Forman's own biopic on the late comedian Andy Kaufman in 1999's "Man on the Moon." Then I realized, that is the point, the subversive point. Same with director David Wain's "A Futile and Stupid Gesture" based on the far too short life of one of three National Lampoon creators, Doug Kenney. The film is too real and too funny, and it finds few breaks in between but we still care despite its focused look at a man spiraling out of control.

Set during the late 1960's up until 1980, "A Futile and Stupid Gesture" stars Will Forte as Doug Kenney, a comedy writer who may have a difficult time creating comedy but he does find inspiration and, more importantly, the truth in comedy that stings like a wasp. After developing the National Lampoon magazine with the help of his best friend, the pipe-smoking Henry Beard (amazingly played by Domhnall Gleeson whom Star Wars fans may know as crimson-haired General Hux) and several others (who are left out of this adaptation because, as we are told, it would take too much time to focus on so many contributors), National Lampoon magazine gets off to a rocky start but it soon develops into the irreverent, wacky, in-your-face satirical mag it became. For example, while Doug has moved in with his girlfriend and Beard, he develops a comic for the mag with panels showing how his girlfriend broke up with him after catching him cheating on her. The scene is evocative of much of Kenney's own insular uncertainty, a man incapable of fidelity to a woman, incapable of talking to others without breaking out in sarcastic asides and brittle jokes. Kenney is not exactly a frenetic Robin Williams but he can't seem to calm down for a second, even when snorting copious amounts of cocaine. When he settles in the serene landscape of Hawaii, the solace only reminds him of what is missing in his life.

The trajectory of Doug Kenney's life is not something I am familiar with and the Lampoon magazine is something I've only glanced at, and nothing more. The films made under the Lampoon banner, the good ones such as "Animal House" and "Caddyshack" I am familiar with and have enjoyed for their anarchic mode. In a sneakily subtextual way, "Animal House" celebrates life as a rebellious act - to liberate oneself from the establishment by smoking pot and wearing togas and getting into food fights. That can apply to Kenney's life, though his demons are far more complex. His disapproving parents are cause for much pain and, with all the success and money and blow in the world, he still sees himself as a failure. I can say that blazes through with the acid pen of writers John Aboud and
Michael Colton.

As for the casting of comics in the roles of famous comedians, it is hardly a mixed bag but some are more blink-and-you-will-miss Gilda Radner-type cameos. Erv Dahl, a comic known as the Rodney guy, does a mean impression of the late comic but he is only part of the scenery, not necessarily part of the action (a funny moment during the filming of "Caddyshack" has Rodney not reacting when the director calls "action"). Same with even Doug's girlfriends though Emmy Rossum has a sharp, savvy turn as Kathryn Walker, his last girlfriend (an actress in her own right) before Doug bites the dust - her feelings for this disheveled man are real and she won't give up on him. Only Joel McHale makes more of an impression as Chevy Chase and he looks the part, clumsiness and all. But this is hardly a criticism, it is actually rather brilliant that the people in Kenney's life are like chess pieces - they move across the board seamlessly if not without faults and Kenney eventually gets his checkmate. Eh, I never said that some of my reviews did not suck and my metaphors are occasionally less than acute.

I can't say with assurance that "A Futile and Stupid Gesture" captures the anarchic spirit of National Lampoon magazine but it certainly captures the insularity and depression of Doug Kenney. Will Forte encapsulates that beautifully and masterfully, an actor who has anchored TV's "Last Man on Earth" and Alexander Payne's masterpiece "Nebraska" with an unspoken authority. In hindsight, the film also captures how Doug saw an imbalance in his own life, how none of his friends are anything but decorative pawns for him, a sense that it is all about jokes and the minute the funniness and the party atmosphere dies, everything dies within him. It is unfortunate that real life bit him hard. 

The Force is Strong with this one

STAR WARS: THE LAST JEDI (2017)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

When a new "Star Wars" movie is released, it has to be a cataclysmic supernova, a blast of escapist, high-octane energy into a world beyond our wildest expectations. That was delivered with 2015's "The Force Awakens" and it is definitely the case with "The Last Jedi," an even more formidable entry in this new trilogy. I do not want to sound too optimistic but this movie is an even grander spectacle, an eye-popping, tacitly humorous, profoundly deeper and more emotionally satisfying "Star Wars" movie. Maybe George Lucas giving his creation to a new host of filmmakers was not such a bad idea after all - this is the second-best Star Wars film ever made after "The Empire Strikes Back" (my personal favorite).

Battles between the Resistance and the First Order continue under General Leia's (Carrie Fisher) command, as the First Order grows stronger and in greater numbers. Poe (Oscar Issac), the stubborn, rebellious flyboy pilot, has his own ideas on how to squash the First Order's many Imperial cruisers, sorry, I meant to say First Order Dreadnaughts. Somehow, the First Order has figured out how to track down Rebel, sorry, I meant to say the various ships from the Resistance while in active light speed! It is now up to resilient Finn (John Boyega), the former Stormtrooper, and (new addition to the universe), Rose (Kelly Marie Tran), a Resistance fighter with mechanical skills who keeps an eye on anyone doing a traitorous thing like fleeing in an escape pod, to find a codebreaker in a casino city who can hack in to the tracking device.

Meanwhile, the Force is almost too strong with Rey (Daisy Ridley), whom we last saw meeting with the bearded, isolated Luke Skywalker (Mark Hamill) at the end of "Force Awakens" for a solid minute and a half of screen time. Luke has no interest in training Rey nor does he want to help fight the First Order - he would rather catch fish and milk some odd-looking creatures's udders than even hold a lightsaber (in one expertly timed moment, he tosses the lightsaber over his shoulder). Rey tries to convince him yet she is conflicted by the ominous, murderous Kylo Ren (Adam Driver) whom she can communicate with telepathically and sometimes even see him. Kylo wants to rule the galaxy at any cost and hopes Rey will join him. Will she? Will Luke train her and help fight the First Order? Can Finn and Rose hack into those Dreadnaughts?

What I love most about these movies is the Buddhist jargon relating to the ways of the Force. Rey is more than capable of wielding the Force, shaping it, seeing into the past but not exactly into any discernible future (she is a newbie after all and her vision can be, pardon the pun, hacked into). Luke is astounded at her metaphysical capabilities and it spooks him. Some scenes involving how to use the Force as a shield and to project oneself apparently infuriated many fans, but I loved it - it shows that the Force is still something mysterious and not easily explained away.

Beyond the depiction of the Force, we also get something of a first for these movies - flashbacks and they involve Luke and Kylo. A couple of these scenes show the first Jedi temple and its eventual destruction by Kylo - essential elements to understand Kylo's corrupted soul. These scenes are among the most powerful, and there are times when one can't be too sure of Kylo's intentions with the First Order or with Rey (no wonder Luke almost wanted to, ah, I will not give that away). There are also many who sacrifice themselves to help others, and I would not dream of revealing any of them but a few of them are surprising.

This is also the most visually awesome and awesomely staged of the Star Wars movies. Between the red soil of the mineral planet Crait, the ostentatiousness of the casino city, the herd of mammals freed and running through the night, the space battles, Snoke's red throne room, the island overlooking the sea where Luke lives - everything is quite a sight to behold. The special-effects never feel obtrusive and always feel organic to the story.

All the performances are top-notch, all the relationships are beautifully conveyed including Luke and Rey, Rose and Finn and even Laura Dern's commanding work as Vice Admiral Amilyn Holdo and her tense recognition of the troublemaker Poe and her little asides with General Leia. There is also Benicio Del Toro as an eccentric codebreaker who is only in it for the money, not to mention the Supreme Leader Snoke (Andy Serkis) whom we see more clearly this time as a remorselessly evil man who wants nothing more than to destroy the Resistance.

I was wowed and entertained by "The Last Jedi" but I was also transported into another world that always felt like home to me since 1977, and that is the appeal of this highly escapist franchise. More so than ever, we need Star Wars and Star Wars needs us. 

What difference does it make

HYSTERICAL (1983)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

In the vein of stupid humor and slapstick pratfalls from the Zucker Brothers (who helmed "Airplane" and the short-lived "Police Squad" TV series during the 80's prior to their success with "The Naked Gun") comes "Hysterical," the sole Hudson Brothers 1983 theatrical film that got lost at the box-office and was largely forgotten for many years. A shame because it is a lot better than some of the similarly themed parodies of this time. No reminders necessary for the inert ineptitude of "Transylvania 6-5000."

A writer of romantic soft-core porn with titles like "Mouth to Mouth" (played by Bill Hudson) leaves the big city for the Oregon countryside in a town called Hellview to write the great American novel (how often have we heard that one!) Calling himself Casper (a ghost writer, ha! I actually like that silly name and, yes, I believe in the magic of sophisticated humor from the lucid pen of Ernst Lubitsch), he resides in a lighthouse that turns out be haunted by some vengeful female ghost named Venetia (Julie Newmar). The backstory of this Hellview spirit is that she was spurned by her lover, a married lighthouse captain named Captain Howdy (Richard Kiel), and killed herself as a result. Exactly 100 years later, Captain Howdy returns from the dead as a zombie. For some reason, whenever Kiel's character whacks people on the head with an ax, the Hellview residents turn into zombies who only utter one phrase: "What difference does it make." Say what?

For myself, despite how stupid and shallowly conceived some of "Hysterical" gags are, it had enough funny moments to induce a few smiles and some guffaws. Sure, some scenes are shapeless, including a few lulls involving the turtleneck-wearing zombies. The cinematography is occasionally poorly lit (there is a daylight sequence featuring two Hudson Brothers driving and you can't see their faces - wish they went the rear-projection mode as a throwback) but I did not care because I was still tickled pink by it. The childish humor and the outlandish shenanigans just made me laugh because of its overall tongue-in-cheek attitude, especially to homages of current films at the time and horror classics of the past. For example, two scientists, Dr. Paul and Fritz (played by Mark and Brett Hudson), both dressed up like Indiana Jones, are hired to find out the mystery of the lighthouse. Earlier, they encounter Dracula and eventually they perform an exorcism on the possessed Casper, obvious "The Exorcist" parody. No doubt the several typed pages of the same phrase repeated over and over is straight out of "The Shining." A nod to "Taxi Driver" was out of place, but so what?

There is one sequence that has some real zest to it - the Zomboogie dance (possibly the only time Murray Hamilton, repeating his role as mayor from "Jaws," has ever sung a song) which basically anticipates everyone's favorite sequence from Michael Jackson's "Thriller." In more amateurish ways, I can't help but think that Newmar's ghost is not terribly unlike Gozer from "Ghostbusters" but that is maybe just me. More than anything else, I love the clumsy blooming romance shenanigans of Bill Hudson and Cindy Pickett. There is an overall charm and a silly frame of mind to it all, even if not all of it works.

"Hysterical" is chock full of stupid humor but it is still not nearly as chaotically stupid as the Zucker Brothers' brand of comedy, but then again not everyone measures up to the latter's standards. Stupid humor makes you wince and also laugh at its own obviousness. One character on a bicycle (Robert Donner) warns every town denizen that they are doomed and he keeps getting into accidents - who is really doomed? If you don't like this kind of juvenile humor and prefer the zanily similar though unfunny "Transylvania 6-5000," then you are doomed.

For more information on the Hudson Bros., check out my wife's fully researched article: http://whatthehelldammit.blogspot.com/2017/11/strike-up-boys-in-band-time-to.html

Wild CGI-infested Kingdom

THE LEGEND OF TARZAN (2016)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

The last Tarzan film I ever saw in theaters was 1984's two-faced "Greystoke: The Legend of Tarzan, Lord of the Apes" directed no less than by Hugh Hudson ("Chariots of Fire"). The jungle scenes were terrifically intense and alive, whereas the manor scenes of a Tarzan being inducted into civilian life were not as cheery. I have vague memories of Johnny Weissmuller's "Tarzan" flicks, the most prominent in my mind being "Tarzan's New York Adventure" which I remember we all loved watching as kids in a Montevideo, Uruguayan theater. This new "Tarzan" flick starring Alexander Skarsgard as the vine-swinging hero raised by apes has some awe-inspiring moments but it lacks bite and urgency.

Tarzan is now an articulate man of the Greystoke Manor - he even drinks a small cup of tea. He is also a married to Jane (Margot Robbie, looking hot and bothered like any damsel in distress) and they like to sit on tree branches and embrace and kiss passionately. Before long, Tarzan is called back into action by George Washington Williams (Samuel L. Jackson), a Civil War vet who is determined to stop colonialists from making slaves out of West African tribes. The tribes and the savage wild apes and other animals can easily destroy these evil colonialists but hey, Tarzan, the white savior, is needed to help neutralize them. Oh, and dare I mention the obvious of how Jane is kidnapped?

Of course, this is all silly - Tarzan was always the white savior, Lord of the Apes. I would not expect less unless they recast the role with someone non-white. The issue I have is the film has no real sense of joy in being - it takes itself too seriously. The CGI effects of a stampede of wild animals in the climax just looks too computery for my tastes. Even when Tarzan fights a CGI ape, I sense that the damage to Tarzan's rather slender body would've necessitated more than a few shoulder stitches. To top it all off, Christoph Walz is the villain du jour, wearing a vanilla ice cream suit and hat, and he is a disappointment - a man of few words as he hopes to scourge the Congo in search of precious diamonds.

"The Legend of Tarzan" is reasonably okay entertainment but it is so overstuffed and overcooked that I wanted more of the intimacy between Tarzan and Jane, and even the criminally underused Walz. Samuel L. Jackson is the bright spot, the comic relief of a war vet who has a hard time keeping up with the vine-swinging Jungle Jim. It is the only real surprise in this vastly underwhelming jungle adventure. 

Speak softly and carry a big stick

WALKING TALL (2004)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

Originally reviewed in 2004

"Walking Tall" is the remake of a 1973 cult hit I can barely recall seeing. This new version is so pumped-up and full of testosterone that one wishes somebody cared a little bit about developed characters and a decent story. It has a good buildup, but it never materializes into anything other than an action movie with a guy carrying a wooden block as a defense against the bad guys.

The wrestler known as the Rock (aka Duane Johnson) stars as Chris Vaughn, a Marine who returns home to work at a mill that is no longer in operation. He is offered a job at the casino, a place that brings income to the small town. He refuses (I wonder why exactly if he needs a job. Oh, I get it. He is not crazy about his high-school rival, who now runs the casino). Before you know it, there is a fight a la Steven Seagal that the Rock instigates (believe me, he does) and he is left for dead. Then he comes back after a silly montage where he mostly sits on the couch in his parents' home, tears apart the casino with his trusty wooden block, goes to trial, convinces the jury he can walk tall (thanks to the scars on the chest), and becomes sheriff with only one deputy (superbly played by "Jackass's" Johnny Knoxville). Then there is the token girlfriend (Ashley Scott) whose last scene consists of her wielding a gun wearing a red bra! The running time is 82 minutes, but we only get half of a movie before it ends rather abruptly and too cleanly.

As I said, there is a nice setup with the introduction of Chris's parents, his sister and his nephew. We see the town has hidden secrets, like young mothers buying drugs in alleyways, a XXX theatre (oh, my!), Home Depot replacing the local lumber shop, and so on. The mill is closed, which means Chris's father can no longer work there. There is only the casino that comes equipped with strippers and slot machines. And as for Chris's high-school enemy/casino owner (played by Neal McDonough), well, it seems differences are set aside except for a brief intro where we witness testosterone levels reaching maximum capacity at a football game (another one of those cliched montages set to loud music).

I am sure the original version of "Walking Tall" is better (both are based on a true story), but the Rock has potential as a reluctant action hero with a sense of humor. He has ample moments to display both, but his Chris character is hardly reluctant - he is a big righteous bully who will take no for an answer. Sounds like he should be running for office.