Interview with Jami Bernard: Current book doctor, ex-film critic

INTERVIEW WITH JAMI BERNARD: 

CURRENT BOOK DOCTOR, EX-FILM CRITIC

By Jerry Saravia

Aside from the old guard of film critics from the days of Siskel and Ebert and Leonard Maltin, you'd be hard-pressed to find true film criticism nowadays, only movie reviewing. That is to say film criticism from people who studied film and journalism and actually have printed film reviews that are not just metered to a specifically cumulative rating system on rottentomatoes.com based on a blog or an online magazine review (all apologies to those who still sweat out film reviews in an online mag or a popular blog, just making a point). Sure, some film critics do continue to have their reviews in actual newspapers (Rex Reed, Michael Phillips and David Edelstein, for example) but today, a blog and/or a youtube account and an attitude are all the prerequisites you need to have some sort of audience (The irony of how this interview is presented is not lost on me). That is why it is refreshing to hear from Jami Bernard, former film critic for the New York Post and the New York Daily News and writer of four film books. Jami has also written two memoirs, a couple of writing manuals, even a Lois Lane comic! In addition, she is the book doctor of her own company that caters to struggling authors, Barncat Publishing, where she coaches writers in assessing and polishing their books and steering them in the right direction. Who is Jami Bernard for those who did not read her reviews back in the day? EXTRA! EXTRA! Read all about it!  

1.) Let's start with a rather ironic question: Your last name is Bernard and you went to Barnard College? I suppose it was destiny?

In my world, back when I was in high school, parents (or at least my parents) didn’t get too involved in helping their kids with their college choices. Not like today, when it’s an Olympic sport among parents. I bought one book on colleges off the shelf at a bookstore, where the colleges were described alphabetically, and when I got to Barnard in the B’s, I realized I didn’t need to read further. It was ideal for smart liberal-arts majors, and classes and dorms were shared with Columbia on the same campus, more or less. I read about this one prize they awarded at graduation to one outstanding senior (the Frank Gilbert Bryson award), and I decided right then I would win it … and I did, four years later.

2.) I know I read many of your film reviews in the New York Post throughout the 1990's (I think you were the only one who was quoted as saying that 1990's "Henry: Portrait of a Serial Killer" was a real horror movie) . Tell us about which newspapers you wrote for aside from New York Post, and did you start writing around 1986?

I started at the New York Post while I was still in college full-time in my senior year, and became a film critic there in 1986 after having tried virtually every other job there outside of sports (reporter, rewrite, editor, page layout, travel, features, even editorial and op-ed…you name it). I had almost always worked nights, so I’d go to the movies during the day before my shift started, and I was always seeing the new movies on the days they opened. In 1993 I jumped to The New York Daily News, and was a lead critic there until 2006 when print journalism was imploding and they no longer had the budget for highly-paid columnists (not only at the Daily News, but everywhere).

3.) Unless you provided the info above, I know David Edelstein wrote film reviews for the New York Post (and I do recall there were issues with his various 2 star ratings on almost every movie), did you replace him?

For a while I wrote reviews alongside David, but I outlasted him and had the job to myself. I think I took a more fun approach to movies; I gave plenty of low star ratings but also conveyed my pleasure of movies through the tone and spirit of my reviews.

4.) Name some of your favorite films and genres, and what inspired you more importantly to write film criticism?

On TV shows they always used to ask about my “favorite” movie, and I don’t have one favorite, just a rotating bunch of much-loved ones. I know I answered that question differently in every interview. On the Joan Rivers show I think I named "Bye Bye Birdie," which really is a personal favorite of mine but would not normally make my Top 10 list if I’m being asked about “serious” movies, like "Raging Bull" and "The Graduate." My favorite genre hands-down is film noir — those creepy, cynical movies in which weak men are brought down by femmes fatales, victims of their own flaws. Hah! What does that say about me? But I love the noir atmosphere and the themes of trust and betrayal and the nihilism of it all. (Again, what does that say about me? I find this kind of movie fun!) I also love the old screwball comedies, in which the women are wilier than they appear and in which true (but sometimes sick) love wins out. Uh-oh, I’m seeing a pattern here! I love movies with GREAT dialogue and subtext, and although I’m as easily manipulated as anyone, I’m not crazy about “happy” endings.

5.) What prompted you to stop reviewing films because I see that now you are the founder of Barncat Publishing where you coach writers?

For at least two years, I knew that my time as a film critic would be coming to an end. The rise of the Internet meant the democratization of public opinion, so that the reign of the “expert” film critic was over. Now, everyone could voice an opinion, even if it was not an informed opinion. Print journalism was dying. I prepared for a full year in the event of losing my job: I sold my apartment in Chelsea to free up my cash, etc. I knew I would not be able to prepare in any meaningful way for what it would feel like to lose my identity as a film critic — I never believed there would be another film-critic job, at least not a good one, so I did not intend to seek one — and the change-over in identity was tough. One thing I never liked about my mother (her coldness) actually came in handy: From the day I walked out of the Daily News, I never looked back. Never went to another industry screening. Never tried to line up another film-critic job, or even a “day job.” I knew I wouldn’t be happy with just any old job, so I spent over a year trying to figure out my future and decided on continuing to write my own books while helping other writers write theirs. I have a very good story sense from watching thousands of movies! I help them with story, structure, tone, dialogue — and that place where most writers fall down, the pitch. So many of my clients have gotten published, when they were just about to give up before they came to me. In terms of viewing, I turned to watching the excellent TV series that are now made, although when I occasionally stumble upon a good movie of today I am just as spellbound as I used to be, and it hurts just a little to be reminded.

6.) In a largely man's world, was it tough to be taken seriously as a female film critic? I know Pauline Kael was around, Carrie Rickey, Dixie Whatley, Janet Maslin among others but I just wonder about your perception or how others perceived you.

There were not (and still are not) many female film critics, and it was fucking difficult. (Am I allowed to curse? If not, delete!) I remember not being able to make the slightest headway in explaining "Thelma & Louise" to men; that’s when I really understood how men are less able to put themselves in the shoes of female protagonists. The men were all saying, “There’s no one to relate to in this movie!” Huh?! How about Thelma? Or Louise? (Or even Harvey Keitel?) The industry stagnated in many ways because there was not enough female input into the creation or consideration of pop culture. That is definitely changing, but only now, and movies still lag behind many TV series where strong, complicated female characters are allowed to breathe.

7.)  You wrote several books, including one on Quentin Tarantino and chick flicks. I love Tarantino for the most part and I am curious why you decided to write about him?

I had met Quentin several times, from the start of his career onward. He was very open and approachable back then (probably not so much now?) and less guarded or surrounded by toadies. He was excited about movies like a kid at Christmas, and his movies showed it. I had dinner with him at the Toronto Film Festival after my book came out, and mostly what he wanted to know was how I knew he had a foot fetish. I said, “But it’s right there all over the screen!” Now, of course, everyone knows, but back then you just had to watch his movies carefully. For example, there is a close-up in Pulp Fiction of Uma Thurman’s dirty soles. Since everything on a movie set is carefully controlled in ultra-OCD style, what did that mean, that this director wanted not only a close-up of the sole of his leading lady’s foot, but that it actually be dirty? After writing that book, though, I decided I didn’t want to write any more biographies. I had 10 books published, mostly film, and I have just completed my first novel, which is where I really want to stay — in fiction.

8.) I also see you are credited as writer for two Superman comics! How did that come about?

The Lois Lane origin comic I wrote, based on my own younger days at the New York Post as a cub reporter, remains one of the things I am most proud of. All the pages are framed and hang over my desk! I also rewrote a couple of Superman comics when the scripts were too lackluster. How I got to this…it’s too long and convoluted a story for now!

9.) You are the first film critic I've interviewed so let me ask: do you think there is a preponderance of comic-book movies?

Comic-book movies have exploded, sure, although "Black Panther" gives me hope that they don’t have to be generic, boring, or totally male-centered all the time.


Footnote: Any writers having troubles with polishing and finishing their books? Contact Jami below. You'll be glad you did.

Jami Bernard

jami@barncatpublishing.com

Barncat Publishing

Your Voice. Your Life.

212-807-6668

www.barncatpublishing.com

The Last President of the U.S.?

FAHRENHEIT 11/9 (2018)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

At first glance, "Fahrenheit 11/9" contains all the familiar Michael Moore documentary tropes: Moore's sardonic voice-over; mixture of fact and fiction (Trump's FBI arrest through magical CGI); a rundown of historical comparative logic with today's political atmosphere; Flint, Michigan (his hometown) in continuing crisis, etc. When you watch a Michael Moore documentary today, it is less documentary and more of a higher-budgeted cinematic editorial that aims to condense a lot of recent events into some meaningful thesis on where we are in the world. What is far more apparent is Moore's anger this time around, his anger at the current political climate and at Trump's ascendance as President of the United States. "Fahrenheit 11/9" is an angry film that is also flawed in its wild theories (the trailer proposes that Trump will be our last President) - it is a companion piece to Moore's controversial 2004 "Fahrenheit 9/11" but it is also less successful at forming reasonable conclusions.

In typical Moore's Theory of the Absurd that starts the film (after we see the liberals' crying disappointment of Hillary Clinton's loss of the presidency to you know who), we are asked to believe singer Gwen Stefani is to blame for Trump's Presidential win. What? Yep, since Trump discovered that Gwen was taking home a bigger paycheck for NBC's "The Voice" than he was for the same network's "The Apprentice," Trump decided to run for President, presumably to build his brand! Huh? I don't buy it. Then we segue to primaries where potential presidential candidate Bernie Sanders might have had a chance if the Democratic voters at the DNC were not so clearly on Hillary's side (I am not going to stoke those fires).

Most displeasing and accentuated with far greater anguish is the Flint Water Crisis in Flint, Michigan, where the water showed extraordinarily high levels of lead in its supply. Starting in April 2014, Flint had hazardous chemicals in the water that many unsuspecting residents were drinking from. In order to cut down on costs, the city of Flint switched to a local river where the water was cloudy-looking and smelled like raw sewage. General Motors ran into problems using the water since it rusted machine parts (eventually, the city switched to a healthier water route but only for GM). Then there is an alleged falsifying of reports by a former Health Department official. To make matters worse, former President Obama attended Flint and pretended to drink a glass of water in front of a crowd of Flint residents! (Note: As of early 2017, President Trump claims he bestowed Flint the $100 million grant to resolve the crisis and fix the pipes when in fact it took less than two years for the Water Infrastructure Improvements for the Nation Act of 2016 to be implemented, a measure passed by Congress and signed into law by former President Obama. According to this film, Obama simply took a drink of water and split without aiding Flint.)

"Fahrenheit 11/9" is often riveting and exasperating, covering a lot of ground into President Trump's excesses and lack of ideology. In addition to brief clips of the late 90's "The Roseanne Show" where Moore and Trump were guests or the various photos of Moore with Jared Kushner and others, there is also much ado about the Parkland school shooting and how these ambitious, surviving teens of that unfortunate massacre may in fact cause a real dent for the better in our future (though it looks like Progressive congresswoman Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez is the shining beacon we may have to consider). Some of this is emotionally powerful (a sneak peek into Charlottesville also speaks volumes) and Moore knows how push the right buttons. Unfortunately, he sometimes sidelines his punchiest episodes for outright fabrications based on bad taste such as hinting at an incestuous nature between Trump and his lovely daughter, Ivanka (not to say that some of the Donald's past televised comments weren't inappropriate but even Bill Maher has stopped joking about it). My least favorite segment (and boy, speaking of beating a dead horse) is the left-wing conspiracy theory about how Trump is our future Hitler, featuring footage of Hitler speaking Trump's words and vice-versa. I do not buy that for a second - Moore is more reasonable in asserting that Trump is a showman, a television personality with a huckster's charm who has slowly turned into a raging bull parody of himself. That I can believe. This may be, for all intents and purposes, nothing more than a put-on, an act of Trump deceiving the public into thinking he cares about them. That I can also believe. But our President is no dictator who has gone to war or has kept certain minorities in internment camps (leaving aside the current illegal immigration debacle) - whether or not he actually becomes a dictator (despite his respect for other dictator leaders) remains to be seen but we are thankfully not there yet.

"Fahrenheit 11/9" is perversely fascinating and incredibly entertaining, in the best tradition of Michael Moore's semi-documentary political juggernauts. It is also his most uneven film yet never less than incendiary. Moore has always been a huckster as well and maybe it takes a huckster to recognize another.  

First Audacious, Mind-Bending Love Story of the 21st century

THE ETERNAL SUNSHINE OF THE SPOTLESS MIND (2004)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

Originally viewed on March 27th, 2004

Father: "Hey gang! Let's go see the latest Jim Carrey flick at the local multiplex!" 

Son: "Oh, cool. Do you mean the sequel to 'The Mask'?" 

Father: "Nope, son, it is called 'The Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind'." 

Son: "Thanks anyway, Dad. I'll sneak in to see anything but that. I'll check out the new 'Agent Cody Banks' movie."

"The Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind" is the loopiest, most mind-bending romantic comedy film I've ever seen. Loopy and romantic? Does this bring up memories of Adam Sandler's similarly loopy foray into P.T. Anderson's world in "Punch-Drunk Love"? Perhaps, but "Eternal Sunshine" will make you so mad, sad, happy and into such a romantic fool that you'll want to reunite with the ex-girlfriend you truly loved. It is the first truly audacious romantic comedy of the 21st century, guaranteed to keep your spirits high. Here's why.

Jim Carrey is Joel, a greeting card writer, who decides one day to skip work and head to Montauk Point, New York. It is February and snowing, but he still walks on the beach. He finds a woman with blue hair named Clementine (Kate Winslet) who despises the old Huckleberry Hound song. She also hates how Joel continually uses the word "nice" to describe everything. Eventually, Joel is invited to Clementine's apartment, and a romance blossoms. Suddenly, we shift to Valentine's Day where Joel is having a crying fit. Does he suffer from depression? No, it seems that Clementine has totally ignored him, appearing as if she never heard of him. And she also has a boyfriend! What is going on here? So Joel decides to wipe her from his memory and goes to a local clinic called Lacuna, Inc., which specializes in erasing any specific memory. The main doctor of the clinic is the reserved Dr. Howard Mierzwiak (Tom Wilkinson), who operates on one's mind rather cryptically. When asked if there could be brain damage, the doctor replies, "Technically speaking, it is brain damage." Nevertheless, Joel undergoes the procedure, firstly by bringing every object that reminds him of Clementine. Then it is on to the actual procedure itself where he has some apparatus strapped to his head while two assistants (both hilariously played by Mark Ruffalo and Elijah Wood) handle laptop computers and cables. Kirsten Dunst is the stoned secretary who has a thing for Ruffalo.

The film is actually something rather rare in modern times - a visual mindscape into Jim Carrey's mind. We see Joel reliving his past moments of glory and misery with Clementine, and sometimes Joel inserts her into his childhood past. The procedure of erasing her deepens and manifests itself in rather strange sights, such as Joel imagining himself as a kid under his mother's kitchen table; the doctors and his assistants morphing into faceless robots; cars falling from the sky and crashing; the disappearance of one setting morphing into another, such as Joel's bed in the snowy beach; Joel's couch immersed in rain; Joel and Clementine at their favorite spot, the frozen Charles River, that gradually morphs into the Grand Central station, and so on. The film is the equivalent of a diabolically clever chase picture into someone's thought processes - Joel's intent is to run after Clementine and have his memory of her restored in memories where she never existed. Of course, the good doctor and his assistants are puzzled that the procedure is taking so long. Have they never realized how complex the human mind is?

As written by the innovative Charlie Kaufman ("Being John Malkovich") and directed with a frolicking hand-held immediacy by Michel Gondry, "Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind" is the romantic comedy I've been waiting for - the dizzying, dreamlike kind. But aside from honest dialogue and dazzlingly constructed images, "Eternal Sunshine" is a meditation on the crazy nature of falling in and out of love, and how the memories should linger and not be erased. We see Kaufman's humor in subtle touches, particularly the other participants of this unusual memory loss experiment (one has a box of everything that reminds her of her dog)! Joel brings two garbage bags full of stuff - a funny sight indeed. But what is more evocative is the emotional center of the film - the topsy-turvy relationship between Joel and Clementine. Joel argues about her constantly changing hair color, her moods, her talkativeness, her supposed inability to bring up a child. Clementine argues about Joel's excuses not to pursue fatherhood, and how he hurtfully accuses her of sleeping around - simply put, Joel is an insular guy who has a blank journal. Can this love last?

Jim Carrey is pitch-perfect as Joel, showing all his insecurities and thoughts up on the screen without budging or resorting to overkill. I knew Carrey could pull it off, unless the audience has a short-term memory of the likes of "The Truman Show" and "The Majestic." And he has exciting chemistry with Kate Winslet (in her defining role for many years to come) as the irrepressible, high-spirited Clementine - as the film reaches its unpredictable conclusion, you'll hope that they remain together. And it is exquisite fun to watch Mark Ruffalo, Elijah Wood and Kirsten Dunst getting high on themselves, almost forgetting they are erasing someone's memory.

"The Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind" may not convert many mainstream tastes to Charlie Kaufman's offbeat, preternatural ideas. The film itself may be a little too frenetic and bizarre in its leaps across time and space to make them care much, and those expecting a Jim Carrey comedy may be disappointed. But for those who are brave and adventurous, this film will be a rewarding experience in every way - I never thought I'd say this but it is the perfect date movie. It questions the fragility of a relationship, and how the memories make us who we are as human beings - why should we delete the experience of a break-up when there are always some good moments to treasure? I just hope this film catches on and shows what romantic comedies have tried to do for years and have never truly succeeded at - to define love in all its glory and in all its flaws. It's always the memories of past relationships that stay with us and define who we are.

Pyre for Fyre

FYRE: 
THE GREATEST PARTY THAT NEVER HAPPENED (2019)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

A party on a remote island with about 50 people might work without a hitch. A music festival with 5,000 tickets sold on an island that was not an island is tantamount to disaster. "Fyre: The Greatest Party that Never Happened" documents the day-to-day goings-on of a music festival that was coming apart in shambles, and the organizers knew it was unworkable and still persisted. Hubris at its most defining with greed running rampant over logic and common sense.

Billy McFarland is the would-be, millennial entrepreneur who promises a world of riches and all anyone got in return were cheap sandwiches and a room with a view but no toilet. That is exactly what happened with the announcement of Fyre Festival, a new music festival that would appeal to those who presumably like Burning Man minus installations and, you know, common sense. Fyre was originally scheduled to be held on an island once owned by Pablo Escobar, and then it was finally held in one of the Bahamian islands, specifically the Great Exuma (not an island exactly but perpetrated as one on social media posts and falsely and continuously advertised as Escobar's island). So, in case you didn't hear about it in the news, the debut of Fyre Festival was not to be - it was a manufactured hoax where a few thousand people had their money bilked. Some dubious website designers fell for the scam for what they thought was a legitimate music festival. Ja Rule, the rapper, is also one of the founders of Fyre who may or may not have hoped for the Music Festival of the 21st century.

As we learn more about this faux music fest, we are inundated with details about supermodels flown in for Instagram shoots; support from paid social media influencers like Kendall Jenner; exchange of money and hustling for the green at last-minute intervals; building white tents that look like they are ready to blow off the ground easily; confusion and disarray over how to fly in guests to the island; legitimate online complaints from customers that were deleted so as to not ruin the brand, and an organizer who is ready to, um, perform fellatio just to satisfy...oh, I would not dream of giving away that nasty bit of information away.

Shrewdly directed by Chris Smith, "Fyre: The Greatest Party that Never Happened" is often frustratingly fascinating yet quite repetitive - after a while, I could not take much more of McFarland, a con-artist masquerading as some sort of pseudo-hip, technologically savvy booking agent/partygoer who lives for the high life of sunlit Bahamian beaches and sexy, bikini models. I was not the least bit sympathetic to him or any of his ship of fools who took the money and ran. As aforementioned, some of the people involved behind-the-scenes are not entirely to blame but they knew this festival was a disaster practically from the get-go. I mean, Blink-182 even opted out!

I am not afraid of no ghost

GHOSTBUSTERS (1984)

An Appreciation by Jerry Saravia

Has time been kind to the 1984 comedy classic “Ghostbusters”? Is it as spirited, witty and even

slightly scary as it once was? Hmmm. My answer is a resounding YES! “Ghostbusters” is a special, upbeat piece of pop moviemaking, both maniacally funny and spookily frightening. It is one of the best combinations of horror and humor ever, without sinking itself to the level of dumb, sophomoric humor and gory images. No, there is not one drop of blood spilled throughout the entire film. The horror is more tongue-in-cheek -- yet still keeps you on the edge of your seat.

Most audiences today are well-versed with the film’s plot and its iconic characters. Three parapsychologists whose university studies are considered hackneyed at best are thrown out of Columbia University: Bill Murray’s Peter Venkman, a jokester who seduces young college women while giving an ESP test with electro-shocks administered if the wrong answer is given (of course, Peter never shocks the girls); Dan Aykroyd as Dr. Raymond Stantz, and Harold Ramis as Dr. Egon Spengler, are the two other parapsychologists who are more knowledgeable than Venkman.

The trio decides to rid New York City of ghosts that are tormenting and sliming everyone at

establishments such as libraries, hotels, and ancient apartment buildings in Central Park West. With the use of their nuclear-powered proton packs, the Ghostbusters aim to capture the ghosts and keep

them in a storage facility while going out on calls in their Ecto-mobile. If all this sounds too silly for

words, well, it is -- and that is part of the movie’s charm.

“Ghostbusters” could have turned into a runaway special-effects show where the effects trumped

its own story. Unlike its obscenely bad, charmless sequel that thought “endless mania” = “laughs,”

“Ghostbusters” has three delightful, likable characters at its center (and only a teeny-weeny role for

the wasted Ernie Hudson, the movie’s one major flaw) and uses practical, realistic effects, such as the

stacks of books that reach the ceiling of the library, when anything else would’ve been less effective.

Of course, we do have flashy special-effects for the anarchic ghosts that could not have been created

any other way, such as the Slime monster who consumes copious amounts of food, or the Stay

Puft Marshmallow Man, one of the more amazingly funny and far too memorably spooky gags in the

entire film.

But at the heart of “Ghostbusters” are the human characters that we root for and sympathize with.

Bill Murray shows a sweetness and sincerity that is a cut above his smart-aleck roles in “Stripes” or

“Meatballs” - it is the genial romance he develops with Dana Barrett (a very appealing Sigourney

Weaver) who is the Ghostbusters’ first customer that adds heart to the film. Ditto Harold Ramis and

his brief flirtation with the Ghostbusters’ secretary (Annie Potts). Dan Aykroyd has never been as

sharply animated as he is here, and is far more lively and human than most of his crude, cartoonish caricatures in other, lesser films. Also unforgettable is William Atherton as an EPA spokesman who senses an environmental disaster waiting to happen in the Ghostbusters’ headquarters, and David Margulies as Mayor Lenny who will have saved the lives of “millions of registered voters.” “Ghostbusters” has a goofy sensibility that would be difficult to duplicate today -- it is still fresh, consistently hilarious, endlessly quotable and perfectly cast. It also wears its heart on its sleeve.

An Impending, Inert WW III

WRONG IS RIGHT (1982)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

It is possible that "Wrong is Right" was viewed as an over-the-top political satire in 1982 with its view of a dim President of the United States (who works out with his gym attire), amoral arms-dealers, and a cynical look at the media's lust for violence ("Network" got there first a few years earlier and with more punch). That would have been sufficient, with cynicism present in every frame of "Wrong is Right" but there's also one too many suicide bombers and the U.S.'s insatiable need for oil - these are images (along with the World Trade Center holding two atomic bombs that are ready to detonate) that may not sit so well in today's post-9/11 climate. Still, regardless of such potent, unsettling imagery, "Wrong is Right" might have worked had it not been so boring.

Sean Connery is completely miscast as a superstar investigative reporter named Hale who is summoned frequently to the White House. See, Hale finds himself in the most dangerous spots around Saudi Arabia and most of the Middle East, interviewing King Awad (Ron Moody) and a terrorist leader (Henry Silva) over the purported suitcases carrying atomic devices that are set to detonate in New York City! And then Hale views the incoming televised reports at the behest of the President (George Grizzard) on the Prez's own television at the Oval Office! There is something intrinsically funny about that yet the filmmakers never bother to fully exploit it. In fact, there are long stretches of scenes where nothing comical or satiric occurs. At one point, Katharine Ross plays a federal agent who meets with some shadowy figure and then, boom, a suicide bomber kills her and the cohort! It is hard to see the humor in any of this. Most of "Wrong is Right" operates on that level, concluding with an interminable series of suspense sequences and Oval Office meetings where the President has to decide whether to resign or allow the bombs to be detonated. This is one of the first movies that I recall seeing where the pace is hurried yet nothing resembling wit is derived from its hurriedness - fast-paced delirium that leads nowhere except interminable boredom. For instance, we see the effects of nuclear annihilation and it turns out that the whole thing was a model of NYC being blown apart to smithereens - that is the level of wink-wink humor we get courtesy of writer-director Richard Brooks ("In Cold Blood"). That and its Nixonian edge with the President delivering an address with the nation with his cute pooch at his side. All the President can say with any comedic edge is, "Does anyone realize that dog is God spelled backwards?" Well, duh!

"Wrong is Right" appears to be headed for "Dr. Strangelove" territory crossed with the journalistic amorality straight from the pages of "Network." Some of it might seem eerily prescient in hindsight but dullness sets in early - there is no real satiric punch or vitality to any of this. What seemed right on the page is painfully wrong on the screen.

I Confess, I loved it

HEAVEN HELP US (1985)

Reviewed By Jerry Saravia

I attended Elementary Catholic School up until the end of 1984 (the school shall remain nameless). My memories of that wretched school I attended are anything but happy - the nuns and teachers were ruthless in their punitive methods. Being slapped across the face because your homework was incomplete was not uncommon. I had first seen 1985's "Heaven Help Us" on cable back in the mid-80's and remember liking the film and knowing it was authentic not only to the era but to that particular kind of wretched school. Having seen it very recently again, I was caught up all over again in the comical hijinks of the prankish students, and just as dismayed at the brutal punitive measures bestowed against its students. "Heaven Help Us" is a wonderfully abrasive and uncouth comedy with moments that make you laugh and others, on the flip of a dime, that are unsettling. It is that precise mixture that blends with the messiness of life itself, from the point-of-view of its Catholic School students, and vibrates and throttles on screen.

The point-of-the-view of the students is exceedingly well-evoked by the atmosphere of St. Basil's in Brooklyn, NY, 1965. It is an all-boys' school attended by the likes of abrasive and repeat-grader Rooney (Kevin Dillon, one of the finest roles of his career); Caesar (Malcolm Danare), the brainy psychiatrist-in-the-making student who keeps laminated notes in his pocket as excuses to escape inevitable punishment; Stephen Geoffreys as a frequent masturbator who is excited about being an altar boy, and the newbie (Andrew McCarthy) who is unsure if he can fit in (his grandmother hopes he will be a priest someday).

The teaching faculty are all brothers, notably Brother Thadeus (Donald Sutherland) as the headmaster who insists on discipline; the memorably sadistic Brother Constance (Jay Patterson) who apologizes to his students before whacking them with wooden paddles, and a newbie Brother Timothy (John Heard) who is more rebellious and something of a smoker, not to mention a collector of baseball cards.

The movie is an acute series of misadventures suffered by the kids who don't know better because, you know, they are just kids. One incident involves a night of drinking during a drawbridge opening where Rooney's car gets stuck; catching an Elvis movie after seeing the Pope in town; decapitating St. Basil's statue; smoking at the local soda fountain down the street run by underage Danni (Mary Stuart Masterson) where the Brothers try to catch a glimpse of any of the students; Brother Constance forcing Caesar to put chewing gum on his nose; a hellishly funny fire and brimstone speech by Father Abruzzi (Wallace Shawn) about lust just before a dance; Dana Barron and Yeardley Smith as Catholic students from all-girls school who go on dates with Rooney and Caesar, respectively, etc. In a quirky way, the movie sort of mocks the Stations of the Cross with the students suffering some tough beatings and whose absolution results in two weeks off from school, rather than being literally hung on a cross! No real redemption intended here. There are also no moral lessons to be learned here, only a moral indignation of Brother Constance who gets a perverse thrill out of being violently abusive.

"Heaven Help Us" is a vivid, often jovial reminder of a significant time and place when unruly Catholic School kids used their own clickers to get attention, and when times were slowly changing thanks to some new thinking regarding spiritual enlightenment courtesy of Brother Timothy. It also serves as a reminder of a post-JFK era sandwiched in between the beginning of the Vietnam War (it is no mistake that a photo and a promotional poster of JFK figure prominently in the soda fountain shop). With all the tomfoolery and all the abuse, there is also a sweet love story centering around Michael and Danni that results in an unexpected separation. From debuting director Michael Dinner and writer Charles Purpura, this ambitious movie wisely balances sardonic humor with realistic horror. It feels and tastes like a life actually lived and that is high praise, indeed. Bless them all for making this miraculous, underrated movie.