Yippie Kay-Yawn

A GOOD DAY TO DIE HARD (2013)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

Maybe it is because odd-numbered movie sequels never quite work. Maybe it is because Bruce Willis doesn't carry the show this time. Or maybe it is because there is nothing left to explore in a series that ignited with a firecracker of an action movie in 1988, leaving each sequel to gradually lose focus of what made the original so great to begin with. "A Good Day to Die Hard" feels like flavorless leftovers from the 1980's.

Yep, Willis is back as John McClane, older but less witty yet still packing a lot of heat. John visits Moscow to visit his jailed son, Jack McClane (Jai Courtney), who is actually a CIA agent. There is some business involving a secret file that is kept at Chernobyl, yes that Chernobyl, where the bad guys have to wear gas masks but not our heroic father-son team. John, by the way, is on vacation which is no more of a contrivance than going to Moscow where Russian baddies still exist yet Chechen rebels keep their weapons in the trunks of their cars!  The plot hair dangling from a supersonic helicopter (the best character in the movie) deals with a political prisoner who knows the file's contents and may have other secrets he is harboring. The prisoner's daughter is not what she seems and we get the usual cliches and double-crosses, spurious gunfire, spurious explosions and a truly unbelievable car chase that is so cartoonishly manic with such excess mayhem that I am surprised all of Moscow didn't just shut down after all the vehicle collisions. John and Jack jump through so many panes of glass and fall through so many wooden boards that it is a miracle no one suffers a broken bone. I know the series has become cartoonish ("Die Hard With a Vengeance" is even more implausible) but I still think back to John's bloodied, wounded feet after walking through so much broken glass in the first "Die Hard." A dose of reality would have been nice.

"A Good Day to Die Hard" is a bland, boring, by-the-numbers action picture with none of the thrilling hallmarks that marked the earlier entries. The concept of John reluctantly fighting terrorists, especially confined to a singular setting, is gone. Willis does get a chance to shed a little light on his McClane character, stating that work kept him from paying attention to his kids. It is so cliched and so slight that ultimately, after five movies, I would think McClane can express something other than stiff dialogue. Alas, no.

Looking for dignity in all the wrong places

KLUTE (1971)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

"Klute" is an absorbing character study with thriller elements thrown in that make for a semi-off-balance and off-key experience. The two central actors are so damn good, such intuitively disciplined actors, that it doesn't matter much that the thriller aspects do not always mesh.

Jane Fonda is a New York City call girl, Bree, who has no emotional connection to any of her male clients. She does her job, pure sex for money (and hilariously checks her watch while faking orgasms) but deep down, she is a troubled soul. Bree has acting aspirations that get her nowhere so she plays the part of a call girl, thinks like one, yet comes home every night to an empty apartment with only a cat for company. She consults a psychiatrist she can barely afford, seeking help so she can feel something, some measure of emotion to keep her dignity.

Donald Sutherland is private detective Klute, a family friend of a businessman who has gone missing. Klute is hired to find him and his first clue are letters sent to Bree, rather obscene, unsavory letters. Bree brushes Klute off when he tries to interrogate her but she comes around, and a very moving and complicated relationship develops.

Directed by Alan J. Pakula, "Klute" is a film of silences, observations, voyeurism and an unsettling music score that occasionally creeps in. Klute discovers who might be responsible for the businessman's disappearance and it leads to a frightening climax involving reel-to-reel recordings and Bree's reaction that will linger long in your memory. But the investigation is far more interesting than the culprit, despite the stunning climax, and it appears that we learn who is responsible long before Klute does. The suspicious character intrudes the narrative, specifically the complex relationship between Bree and Klute that leaves us unsure of their commitment to each other.

Jane Fonda is a sparkling gem of an actress in this movie, giving Bree equal doses of strength and vulnerability and some heartbreaking passages with her psychiatrist (Fonda deservedly won the Oscar for Best Actress). Donald Sutherland is stoic yet sympathetic and nonjudgmental as the detective. Also worth noting is Roy Scheider as Bree's classy pimp who fortunately doesn't play the role with gimmicks or unrestraint.

"Klute" is a near-perfect film containing a villain that is a sop to conventionality, though it does climax beautifully. And the final ambiguous scene with Fonda's words of uncertainty will tear you up for days and months.

Slashes but it doesn't burn

THE BURNING (1981)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

Scores of "Friday the 13th" clones cluttered movie theaters in the early 1980's. "The Burning" is one of those clones that got a very limited release. Is it gory and excruciatingly bloody that it deserves its reputation as a video nasty? Not at all, in fact by the standards set by most of these disposable "Friday the 13th" clones, it is fairly mild exploitation that is a slight cut above the rest - let us boldface that word, slight.

The movie begins with a sadistic, alcoholic caretaker of a camping ground who is accidentally and severely burned by some campers who just wanted to play a prank on the guy (it involves a skull with worms and small candles in it, how very prankster-ish). The caretaker, known as Cropsy (Lou David), survives but his face and body resemble a monster who applied a lot of peanut butter to his face, not the wounds of a burn victim (Tom Savini, the expert makeup artist, didn't have enough time to get it right). Nevertheless, the campers and the camp counselors (including Jason Alexander, in his debut) are clueless to any man walking around with a black hat, black coat and black gloves carrying a pair of garden shears. I would think he would stick out like a sore thumb more so than Jason Voorhees carrying a machete, but then who would suspect a burn victim in black clad seeking murderous revenge at a campsite?

One of the problems with these slasher films is that no clear motive is given. Sure, the caretaker was the victim of third-degree burns by foolish campers who had no intention to do the damage they had done. I understand that, but what is up with the gratuitous murder of a prostitute after he is released from a hospital? Why is she a victim? And since this killer is largely faceless and soulless, then we the audience are left wondering why he is killing all the campers. Why not go after those original pranksters?

For a quickie picture like this (produced by Harvey Weinstein!), the acting is not half-bad and it is a kick to see tough-guy Larry Charles as an obnoxious sleaze who wants to have sex with one of the pretty campers. It is less of a kick to see Holly Hunter in her debut with only one line of dialogue! Jason Alexander is damn good and there are some decent scenes between Brian Matthews as Todd, a counselor, and young wimp Brian Backer as Alfred, a consistently harassed camper. Most of the campers are upbeat and friendly so it is a shame to see half of them slaughtered, especially after enduring another have-sex-and-you-will-die cliche. Basically, "The Burning" is as run-of-the-mill as it gets. False scares, vaseline-covered Cropsy point-of-view shots, a few bloody scenes (the canoe slaughter is not nearly as bad as its reputed) and an awkwardly shot and poorly timed copper mine climax. Not in the list of the bottom-of-the-barrel slasher flicks but not quite a decent flick either. Eat some peanut butter instead.

Does 12 Years a Slave have a chance at Best Picture Oscar?

NO OSCAR CHANCE FOR 12 YEARS A SLAVE?

Written by Jerry Saravia

In the last twenty-five years of Academy Awards picks, only a handful have won Best Picture that felt justified. I'll mention some off the bat: "Silence of the Lambs," "Unforgiven," "The Departed," "No Country for Old Men," "Slumdog Millionaire," "The Artist" (though "Hugo" is a far greater film) and that is all folks. 1990 shoulda, woulda, coulda been the year of "GoodFellas" but it got swiped by the marvelous Kevin Costner western, "Dances With Wolves" (an important film to be sure but not exactly groundbreaking). 2005 should have been the year of "Brokeback Mountain" but it was eclipsed by the generally cliche-ridden if often galvanizing "Crash" - I sense a love story about two gay cowboys made some Academy members nervous despite the nominations and rewarding Ang Lee as Best Director. 2012 saw Ben Affleck's "Argo" win Best Picture and that was a safe bet, in my view, when up against the unsafe, untidy, chaotic charms of "Silver Linings Playbook" or "Django Unchained" (the latter would not have been my pick for Best Picture anyway).

So what about Best Picture of 2013? As of this writing, the Oscar nominations have not been announced but I sense that Hollywood will go down the safe route, perhaps choosing "American Hustle" with the naked golden boy. "American Hustle" is a safer bet than the wild shenanigans of "Wolf of Wall Street" or the vicious, unflinching look at slavery in "12 Years a Slave." "12 Years a Slave" is a tough, demanding, uncompromising look at slavery as told from the point-of-a-view of a slave (a first in Hollywood history when you consider previously-nominated films about slavery with white protagonists such as 1989's "Glory," which did not win Best Picture that year. Nope, the safe bet that year was "Driving Miss Daisy"). But the severe whippings that Lupita Nyong'o's character, Patsey, undergoes not to mention the virtually painful moment where Solomon Northup (Chiwetel Ejiofor) is hung from a tree while trying to place his feet on the ground, so as to not break his neck, are an endurance test for audiences and the Hollywood elite. It is one of the great films of all time, a masterpiece of chilling horror about a time most would like to forget. But an unblinking look at slavery and a black protagonist are sure signs that, despite a Golden Globe win for Best Drama, it will be eclipsed by a safer bet. "American Hustle" may prove to be that as it garnered a lot of attention when it was released, and possibly an apology for the Academy having resisted "Silver Linings Playbook" the year before with a win. I hope I am wrong but in La-La-Land, safe, reassuring, optimistic films often get crowned with jewels. 

Terrorism in Munich

ONE DAY IN SEPTEMBER (1999)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

"One Day in September" is an effective propaganda piece, not necessarily an effective document of the times in which it is set. Propaganda is a one-sided view of making people believe in one theory without presenting others. A true document of a chaotic mess like the 1972 Munich Olympics is to show various points-of-view and present it honestly, offering arguments from both sides of the coin, not just one.

The idea that the Olympics would take place in Munich, Germany where a host of Israelites would be performing their games was already a momentous occasion. It was an opportunity for Germany to amend for the Holocaust and for the 1932 Berlin Olympics, which Adolf Hitler had attended and was a sight for many Hail Hitler salutes. Many Israeli athletes engaged in every sport, from weight lifting to fencing to swimming. All this is shown as a montage with music from "Joy" by Apollo 100. The Olympics is destined to be a great success. But something horrible happens. A few Palestinian terrorists from a group known as Black September infiltrate the apartment buildings where the athletes stay and take several of them hostage. The demands of these terrorists is to release three political prisoners or else they'll execute one hostage at a time. The German generals and police try to negotiate with little success, and we also see how unprepared they are for this (not to mention the lax security at the Olympics event in the first place.)

Unfortunately, director Kevin MacDonald treats the documentary subject as if it was Oliver Stone coming in and fiddling with the reels, switching and ignoring information with careless ease. Stone could make a better film from this subject than MacDonald has, but something is certainly off in the execution. For one, the film uses some narration voiced by Michael Douglas that does little to inform us of the chaos and the political subtext from either side (as a rule, documentaries are generally better without narration). Thus, we learn little of why these Palestinian terrorists chose to use the Olympics as the setting for a hostage situation (possibly media glory knowing the whole word would know about it, but that is a moot point. Carlos the Jackal was reportedly behind the Black September group, a fact largely ignored in the film). We also learn too little of the German police and security, not to mention the government who are shown to be callous and arrogant and want the Olympic games to continue despite the hostage situation. They are also shown to be unwilling, at one point, to release any political prisoners for any terrorist, and very willing the next moment to do anything for these terrorists after they hijack a plane - a hijacking that has since been the subject of much speculation. But the Germans, both the security and secret service, look like fools who commit one too many blunders. One such blunder, a tense sequence to be sure, is when a raid is about to take place at the apartments where they plan to infiltrate the terrorists until the Germans realize their very efforts are being televised, and possibly watched by the terrorists. Then there is the airfield where the terrrorists want to take the hostages by plane to Lybia or some such area. The snipers are deployed but are given erroneous information and end up killing their own, not to mention causing a bloodbath where no hostages survive as a result.

"One Day in September" does focus on one of the hostages, a fencing coach named Andre Spitzer, and his wholesome image as portrayed by his widow, Ankie Spitzer, who was very much in love with the man. If only the other hostages merited as much screen time so we could understand the loss more vividly. A little more exposition on these terrorists would have been nice (this is not about being sympathetic to their cause, only to understand motive). The film focuses on the tense situation at Munich but never establishes the personalities of those involved, especially the terrorists. We do get one surviving terrorist, Jamal Al Gashey, who talks about how proud he is since the hostage situation helped the world turn its attention to Palestine. Some of this is fascinating to be sure but not enough to establish a clear goal, and what exactly was Palestine going through at that time? And why does director MacDonald show a montage of corpses with rock music in the background?

For an attempt to see the chaos that occurred in those fateful days at Munich, "One Day in September" is an essential film record of that moment. If nothing else, it will make you seek out literature on this still very relevant subject today.

Road Trip with smarts

THE DAYTRIPPERS (1996)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

(Originally reviewed in 1997)

Road movies have always been treats to watch because you feel you've been on one yourself and can, therefore, identify with the characters who are heading on some kind of unknown odyssey. The road movie genre is part of a very long tradition that includes everything from "Easy Rider" to "Thelma and Louise" to 1996's riotous "Flirting With Disaster." "The Daytrippers" is not in the same league as those classics, but it is a sweet, calm precious little movie that should not be overlooked.

The movie starts with a sweet married couple on their way home from Thanksgiving. They are Louis D'Amico, a book editor (played by the charismatic Stanley Tucci), and his blonde AND MUCH TOO SWEET WIFE, Eliza D'Amico (Hope Davis). They arrive home, and make love. There is nothing here to suggest a troubling marriage until the next morning when Eliza finds a love note to her husband. She is a little startled by it but not too upset. Considering her befuddlement, she goes to her mother's house to show the note. The mother, Rita (Anne Meara), is alarmed and insists on taking the whole family, including her husband, Jim (Pat McNamara), their younger daughter, Jo Malone (Parker Posey) and her boyfriend, Carl (Liev Schreiber), to find Eliza's husband in the city and confront him. I don't know of any family that would embark on such a journey but anything can happen in New York, which is where this movie takes place.

The main reason "The Daytrippers" works is because the characters are captivating and show their true colors. This movie could be the basis for a sitcom with one-liners stretched throughout and endless comic set-ups, but writer-director Greg Mottola wisely opts for a genial, warm tone that is unheard of in most movies today.

The actors are a mixed bag but they are pleasurable to watch and listen to. The star of this bunch is Anne Meara (Ben Stiller's mother) as the overbearing mother Rita who dotes on her daughters and simultaneously destroys their relationships. Her philosophy is that she will stand by them, but she will not allow them to screw up their own lives. Parker Posey, the omnipresent indie star of the moment, is indelibly gracious and alluring as Jo Malone, the younger, trashier-looking daughter (I would have loved to have seen more of her). Liev Schreiber is marvelously witty as Jo's boyfriend who prattles on about his novel concerning a man with the head of a dog, and he has a smartly written scene with a novelist (the grand Campbell Scott) where they argue about politics and the social classes. Stanley Tucci has a cameo appearance but his presence resonates throughout this oddball road trip - his final scene at a book party is a revelation. The one character that does not work is the crucial role of Eliza. As played by the pallid Hope Davis, she constantly appears unconcerned, reticent and blank - excuse me, but shouldn't she show a little concern and be just a tad upset at the notion that her husband might be having an affair? Her last scene in the film is a travesty to witness.

"The Daytrippers" is good enough to admire on its own merits. Excluding Hope Davis, the casting is impeccable, the grainy color photography brings an inviting sense of homeliness and reality, and the writing is consistently delightful. If only director Mottola let these "daytrippers" embark on the road with no specific agenda or plot to carry them through but rather just to make it as a study in observation, then we might have had a minor classic here.

50's melodrama with a modern lens

FAR FROM HEAVEN (2002)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

My Choice for Best Film of 2002

I think it was only a matter of time before Julianne Moore appeared in a 1950's period piece. Moore has the innate ability to adapt to any time period, just as she did in the fabulous "An Ideal Husband." But her performance in Todd Haynes' highly melodramatic "Far From Heaven" is not the performance I expected. Moore handles the role as well as you can imagine but you have to look beneath the surface to discover what the film and the performance really mean.

Set in Hartford, Connecticut, Moore plays Cathy Whitaker, a picture-perfect image of the ideal housewife. She is always beaming, drives a stationwagon, takes good care of her husband and kids, cooks meals, and has regular visits with her girlfriends about the latest gossip and carpet color-matching schemes. Her husband, Frank Whitaker (Dennis Quaid), is a workaholic sales executive. Their image is so picture-perfect that she is constantly photographed in her home or in other whereabouts like an art gallery. Indeed this whole word seems too fabricated to really believe, and we are right to have those assumptions.

Just like when nothing seems wrong at the surface, we slowly uncover Frank's secrets. At the start of the film, Frank is arrested by the police for drunk and disorderly conduct. Cathy's party proves a bust since she has to pick up him at the station. But Frank has more up his sleeve when he is discovered kissing another man at work by Cathy. He is a closeted homosexual and convinces his wife that he will seek help to "beat this thing." The homosexuality is a threat to their marriage, not necessarily to the unaware community.

Curiously, the homosexuality awakens Cathy to other things. Sure, she has her clique of friends including her gabby best friend, Eleanor (Patricia Clarkson), but something is missing. When Cathy finds that she has a new gardener, Raymond (Dennis Haysbert), she also finds a friend who can really listen to her. The problem is that Raymond is black and this is the 1950's, long before the civil-rights movement. Cathy and Raymond become friendly, attend the same galleries and eat at a restaurant that only blacks frequent. Never mind that Cathy is absent-minded and fully supports the NAACP, the community looks down at her as does her husband. In other words, homosexuality is kept in the closet but racial, non-romantic relations are best left unseen or else you will be shunned. That kind of hipocrisy has never really been addressed before, and I imagine that it has more to do with the expected roles of men and women in society.

"Far From Heaven" is directed by Todd Haynes who previously worked with Moore in "Safe." Haynes has crafted a style for the film to assume the look of a movie from the 1950's. Curiously, it is not just the filmic style, which incorporates the use of dissolves as continuity from one scene to the next, as well as the Technicolor look of those 50's melodramas by director Douglas Sirk with those high-angle crane shots of leaves in the foreground as we descend upon a familiar sight - a big house with a white-picket fence. And it is not just the syrupy, impactful music by Elmer Bernstein, himself a product of those times with his memorable scores. The acting and dialogue style are filtered from the way Hollywood movies used to depict those times. In other words, leaving aside the taboos of race and sexual identity, "Far From Heaven" looks exactly like a film from the 1950's that has only recently surfaced. The reason for this postmodernist "Pleasantville"-style may be to dig up the repressed feelings that were inherent in the Hollywood films of the 50's, and serve them straight up. For example, race and sexual orientation were barely ever discussed in those films (the same could hold true of society back then). Thus Haynes finds a way of articulating those reserved emotions and getting them literally out of the closet. For example, "ah, geez" is a term you might have heard in some of those films, but certainly the F-word was never uttered in a Hollywood film until 1970's "MASH." When Frank angrily spews the word, it feels like a sudden shock of reality since we don't expect to hear it.

The movie never aims to be parody but its mannered, stylistic speech could easily have led in that direction. That is why it is hard to know how to respond to Julianne Moore's performance, which is pitch-perfect in its honing of such delicate, refined dialogue. The dialogue is not sparkling or poetic yet it is unironic and well-suited to the time and place it evokes. It can induce laughter in the audience, such as when Cathy admits to Raymond at the gallery that she is not prejudiced and supports the NAACP. Again, what can induce laughter is the very notion that we have been fooled into thinking we are watching a movie from the 1950's, thus her comments seem shocking. Another noteworthy scene is when Frank enters a bar for homosexuals, and they look at him with humiliation. This scene seems directly lifted from a similar moment in 1962's "Advise and Consent" where Don Murray looked suitably humiliated to be in a club for gays.

"Far From Heaven" is a film buff's dream, a stylistic stretch of the imagination of a decade that is rarely discussed much anymore. Not only is it a walk back into the past, it is like Douglas Sirk literally came back from the dead and made a movie in the same style of his cult films. More significantly, it is about the possibility of change and of trying to break through the facade by being yourself. Cathy does change but does not try to change for others. Her friends shun her but the most heartbreaking scene is when she tells the ousted Raymond she will visit him in Baltimore. His response is that it is not a good idea. What Moore and Haynes have done has not really been done before - to recreate a cinematic past and uncover what was hidden. This is a marvelous film that grows on you long after the credits.