The Man in Black has Arrived

WALK THE LINE (2007)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

(Originally written in 2008)

The toughest thing to do in a filmed biography is to capture someone's essence and their heart. Some films, like "The Aviator," "The Doors" or "The Great White Hope," capture the essence but not necessarily (or intentionally) the heart. I can live with either or both. What is unusual about James Mangold's "Walk the Line" is that it captures the essence and the heart of Johnny Cash beautifully, yet I think essence is all we really want from the Man in Black.

   

The film begins in Dyess, Arkansas in 1944 as we witness Cash's early years with his brother, his stern father (Robert Patrick) and mother (Shelby Lynne), living on a cotton farm. Johnny's elder brother dies in an unfortunate accident involving a buzz saw, and his father forever blames John for it (the circumstances today still remain a mystery). Flash forward to Germany as an older Johnny (Joaquin Phoenix) enlists in the Air Force and writes a couple of songs while stationed there (one of them being "Folsom Prison Blues," which is inspired by a documentary he watched called "Inside the Walls of Folsom Prison"). 

   

Meanwhile, Johnny Cash heads back to Tennessee, marries his first wife Vivian (Ginnifer Goodwin), has children, but can't seem to cut it as a door-to-door salesman. Still, his dreams lay in a singing career as he forms a band called "The Tennessee Two" with two mechanics. His wife is none too pleased but Johnny Cash's career skyrockets after cutting a demo at Sun Records, and the rest is history. But his newfound fame really takes off when he meets June Carter (Reese Witherspoon), a young dynamo of a singer from country royalty in good old Memphis. This sparks a friendship and love that endures more detours than you'll find at the Long Island Expressway.

   

During the course of Johnny Cash's early years as a singer, specifically from the 1950's to the late 1960's, he gets addicted to amphetamines, divorces Vivian, goes on endless tours with June and the band, and drinks and grows a nasty temper (in one intense moment, Johnny tears a bathroom sink from the wall.) In the end, all he wants is June Carter's love but receiving is a battle all its own. 

   

Joaquin Phoenix is phenomenal as Johnny Cash, showing the singer's dependency on speed, his desperate need not to be separated from June Carter, his violent outbursts, and his eerie calmness when talking to his formerly abusive and drunk father. Phoenix also does something else - he shows 

Cash's boundless energy on the stage that is truly electrifying to watch. You'll forget that you are watching Mr. Phoenix on stage (he sang all the vocals). What is most stirring is seeing how easily you can be seduced by the music. When he asks June to sing "Time's A Wastin'," despite her objections, you see how easily she goes along with it - you can't help but be seduced by Johnny's charm. 

   

Reese Witherspoon gives her best performance since "Election," demonstrating an alarming sense of vitality. I say alarming because Witherspoon basically jumps off the screen with her 

sweet singing voice, her smarts, her wit, her dynamic enthusiasm and her love for Cash whom she is waiting to mature (basically, to walk the line). Both Witherspoon and Phoenix have incalculable chemistry but it is Witherspoon who shows what a real force of nature she is - she is a tornado 

that practically wipes Phoenix off the screen. Even in her small moments, particularly when criticized for her past marriages by an unlikely fan, Witherspoon is as watchable a presence as any young actress. 

   

James Mangold ("Girl Interrupted") does more than a serviceable job as director - he revitalizes the biographical musical genre. And in doing so, he also trims the typical narrative fat that makes up most bios to narrowly focus on the developing relationship between Johnny and June. You must understand that "Walk the Line" is not intended to be insightful about Johnny's relationship to music - only to the woman who emotionally supported him till the end. 

   

Sometimes a phrase says it all. There is a line that Cash's father says during an uneventful Thanksgiving dinner. He tells his son that Jack Benny's house was bigger than Johnny's. 

How does his father know this? He saw it on TV. Cash may have had a smaller house but he will always be bigger than Jack Benny. And it is his June Carter Cash who made that possible. R.I.P Johnny and June.

Visited this House 1000 times before

HOME AGAIN (2017)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

I watched "Home Again" with the pretense that it was nothing more than a garden variety rom-com with Reese Witherspoon walking through a well-traveled path of cliches with more than the usual music-video montages. Every move would be anticipated, every moment calculated to its zenith point. What is different from the norm is watching the high energy of Reese Witherspoon who clearly is better than the stale mediocrity written for her.

I suppose there is potential here for an interior decorator and mother of two daughters (not to mention the daughter of a famous fictional Cassavetes-like film director), Alice (Witherspoon), having an affair with an ambitious twentysomething film director, Harry (Pico Alexander). What I was not keen on was watching this souffle of a film director bring his two filmmaking buddies to live in Alice's guest house! That plot point by the way is about as nervy and messy as the film gets. Alice's daughters are adorable, I suppose, yet unmemorable. The two buddies, George (an ambitious screenwriter) and Teddy (an ambitious actor), start participating in Alice's daily activities, including picking up the daughters from school and theatre rehearsals, cooking meals, etc. What are we watching here? What about the romantic fling between Alice and Harry who walks around shirtless on occasion? This fling is so devoid of heat or romantic sparks that it is difficult to see any attraction other than sexual (which, of course, this being a PG-13 flick, the sex is minimal to almost nonexistent).

I must wonder about Alice's philandering father, a film director no doubt modeled on the late John Cassavetes. Why is this subplot given short-shrift? Even Candice Bergen who plays Alice's mother looks a lot like Gena Rowlands, Cassavetes's wife. Considering we have three budding filmmakers living in Alice's house (formerly her father's), why not stir the imagination about their filmmaking interests since Alice's father is one of their inspirations without focusing on old sitcom setups?

The movie is like a parade of moments we have seen a million times before. "Home Again" has no consistent unifying motion - it is a series of photo shoots where every actor looks prettified beyond belief thanks to lighting that comes from 10,000 watt bulbs. The dialogue is stale at best (a confrontation between Alice and her boss is handled like a sitcom situation without the laugh track) with no real interest in personality, depth or spontaneity. Witherspoon (and Michael Sheen who briefly appears as her ex-husband) give this movie a lift but it needs more than a crane - it needs a new construction crew. 

Enter the Bruceploitation madness

BRUCE LEE: THE MAN, THE MYTH (1976)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

When I first saw the perversely entertaining Bruce Lee biopic "Bruce Lee: The Man, The Myth" on TV back in 1983, I was excited about an unexpected renaissance: Bruce Lee might come back. Towards the end of the film, a theory is proposed that Bruce Lee not only faked his untimely death at the age of 32 but that he would return in 1983 as Southeast Asia was awaiting his return. Of course, that was not to be since Lee really did die. If he had been a recluse, he might have returned sooner had he known his name would be exploited in so many cheap, amateurish Bruceploitation flicks ready to cash in on his name, his legacy. "Bruce Lee: The Man, The Myth" is one of the better flicks (though clearly cheaply produced) and it distinguishes itself by paying some measure of tribute to the late martial arts master. Of course, it is about as fictionalized as you can imagine.

Bruce Li (aka Ho Chung Tao, James Ho) plays the iconic Lee, from his days of training with his master Yip Man, to his San Francisco days in college where he would perform tricks with students such as grabbing a coin from someone's hand in lightning fashion, to various challenges from many different martial-arts fighters while operating his own martial-arts school, to his days on the set of his famous films ("The Big Boss" shows some of the same actors from that film) where he was consistently challenged by fighters who thought he was all show and not a real fighter. Bruce Lee has to continue to prove himself as he trains harder and harder, then starts developing headaches and then he dies, though the film suggests there may have been more to his death than a simple ingestion of a painkiller.

If you have never read a book about Bruce Lee, then you might accept some of the biographical material as fact: please don't! For one, the various fight challenges he endures in this film are hogwash (only 3 to the best of my collection are probable, though none resemble what is on display here). Though there is a mention of Lee's dismissal of karate or any style as inferior to his Jeet Kune Do, there is no real discussion other than lines such as "Kung-Fu is!" Well, that settles that debate. Bruce Lee, a philosopher at heart, would've expounded on such issues. Also, I am not sure his strict protein diet included a piece of chocolate but I can't say for sure.

"Bruce Lee: The Man, The Myth" has the likable Bruce Li at its center who captures the legend in most of his glory, including the mischievous smiles. Li is also a hell of a charismatic fighter though he doesn't quite capture the balletic grace, the hesitation in Bruce Lee's fighting skills - the initial reluctance to fight is what made Bruce Lee more positively human than any one-dimensional clone. Of course, there is only one Bruce. The actress Lynda Hirst (her sole role) who plays Linda Lee, Bruce's wife, is uncanny though she barely has any lines. The movie itself is a fun, if sloppily made, chop-socky flick - just don't take it as gospel.

Irony Defined

TEACHING MRS. TINGLE (1999)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

I hated some teachers in high school but not enough to kidnap them so that I could get a higher grade enabling me to become valedictorian (my grade-point average was a mere 85%). By all accounts, "Teaching Mrs. Tingle" should be a disastrous offering yet I was quite thrilled by it. It is bouncy, consistently edgy and humorous. Class, listen and take notes.

The titled character, Mrs. Tingle (maliciously and authoritatively played by Helen Mirren), is one tough, no-holds-barred teacher. When she is grading the students' final projects, she is perfectly blunt and concise. Even one of the top students in Tingle's class, Leigh Ann Watson (Katie Holmes), who has created an ambitious project on the Salem witch trials (complete with a leather-bound diary), fails to attract the slightest interest in the teacher. Watson gets a C for her efforts, which may prevent her from getting valedictorian status. She wants to appeal the grade but thanks to her friends,

Jo Lynn (Marisa Coughlan) and her supposed boyfriend, Luke (Barry Watson), they inadvertently stick a copy of the upcoming final exam in her knapsack! Guess who notices this grossly unethical practice! Now Watson and company have to convince the teacher in her own home that she is not guilty. Before you know it, the nasty, confrontational, far too honest Mrs. Tingle is bound to her bed

by her own students! How on earth will they ever convince anyone of their own innocence, especially Watson?

Okay, so this screenplay by Kevin Williamson ("Scream") is as farfetched as they come. Excepting scenes of Tingle's gentleman caller and Jo Lynn's reenactments from "The Exorcist," most of "Teaching Mrs. Tingle" moves along with the expected jolts and the swift camera moves of any thriller post-"Scream." What differentiates it from the norm are the truisms regarding the characters (there is actually more dialogue here than in the average "Scream" knockoff). Mrs. Tingle consistently plays mind tricks on her captors, even turning them against themselves. She believes that Watson is trying to steal Jo Lynn's boyfriend, Luke, and gets Jo Lynn to even despise Watson. After

all, why should Jo Lynn do all the hard work of bringing Tingle tea and food? How come Luke and Watson always leave together to keep authorities and the school at bay? There is also the sneaky theory that Tingle hates Watson and had planned for Watson to fail getting the coveted Valedictorian award. So should we trust these kids or should we be on Tingle's side? The fact that writer

Williamson keeps us on our toes, trying to guess what will happen next, is what makes the film work as a real thriller full of unpredictable surprises.

The best surprise is watching Helen Mirren convey every ounce of Mrs. Tingle's regret, humanity, hurtfulness and pain. In the beginning, we see her as a monster. By the end, you'll feel some sympathy for her. Mirren never aims for any exaggerated mannerisms or incredulous emotions. She manages to be both sincere and menacing and plays both ever so delicately.

Couglan's Jo Lynn has some worthy moments, though she is a dolt next to Holmes' Watson. And Watson's Luke is a Skeet Ulrich wanna-be, minus the goatee. Katie Holmes really takes the cake for standing on her own next to the titanic presence of Helen Mirren. And it is always an indisputable pleasure to see Molly Ringwald in any movie!

"Teaching Mrs. Tingle" was criticized for its violence in the wake of the tragedy at Colombine (Original title was "Killing Mrs. Tingle"). It is a shame because the movie and the events are about as similar as shock-rocker Marilyn Manson is to Senator Joe Lieberman. The critics should take a lesson from Mrs. Tingle and learn the meaning of irony. 

More winks than scares

THIR13EN GHOSTS (2001)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

Original Review from May 6th, 2002

Let's be honest: "Thirteen Ghosts" is a bad movie but it is so cheerfully over-the-top and so intent on at least trying to scare the bejesus out of you that it succeeds. It succeeds on the marginal level of pseudo-horror entertainment.

Based on the original 1960 William Castle production, the movie begins with a math teacher, Arthur (Tony Shalhoub), who learns he is inheriting an elaborate glass house from his late Uncle Cyrus (F. Murray Abraham). It is completely made of glass, right down to the corridors, hallways, walls, etc.
Arthur now has a second chance in his life after losing his wife in an accident. Needless to say, there is more than meets the eye in this house where enclosed spirits start going raving mad and attack with no provocation. There are twelve lost spirits in this house, all kept encased by the late Cyrus who was some sort of ghost hunter, and who has turned this house into a diabolical machine where the dead rule the house.

"Thirteen Ghosts" is the latest in the ironic horror comedies where winks outdo real scares. If your cup of scary tea is to see ghosts in gory makeup every few minutes, then this is the movie for you. They show up out of nowhere and sometimes they run with great velocity, always aiming to make the audience jump. My cup of tea is the imaginative hauntings of "The Others" where mood and atmosphere tweak our nerves more so than endless ghostly manifestations but what do I know. It is not a terrifying film experience but it does have some spooky scenes.

The performances hit the right notes, particularly Matthew Lillard (a real scream in "Scream") as Rafkin, a former employee of Cyrus whose job is to save Arthur and his family from the deadly ghosts. I also liked F. Murray Abraham's few choice scenes where he literally chews up the scenery. Shannon Elizabeth as Arthur's daughter is hardly given anything of value to do, but she is one hell of a good screamer. I also like the housekeeper who is given her share of one-liners.

Nicely shot and well-choreographed scenes, not to mention well-executed scares and superb make-up jobs, make most of "Thirteen Ghosts" fun to watch. It is a Saturday night rental for sure, just do not mistake it for real horror.

Filmed Snapshots

HARRY AND SON (1984)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

An aged construction worker, Harry, (Paul Newman) loses his job and decides to operate a wrecking ball and destroy an abandoned building for fun. His eager and boisterous son, Howard (Robby Benson), furiously types away at his typewriter hoping to surface as an author while unable to hold a job except as an auto detailer (and barechested to boot); oh, yes, he likes to surf. The house they live in is the middle of a business park parking lot. The next-door neighbor (Joanne Woodward) is a pet shop owner who dispenses wisdom that never amounts to anything. There is a pregnant young woman (Ellen Barkin) who happens to be the pet shop owner's daughter and used to date Harry's son. Then there is the inclusion of some rather odd and numbingly indifferent characters like a businesswoman (Judith Ivey) who has orgasms when you flash a camera at her; a repo car business owner who drives away during a practice session with Howard; Harry's brother (Wilford Brimley) who owns a military surplus store and keeps some liquor nearby (everybody drinks in this movie while working); an older, unemployed man (Ossie Davis) who nearly has his car repossessed and chooses to be friends with Howard intermittently, etc. I don't mind when a screenplay chooses to connect a bunch of characters but the puzzle pieces don't hold together - you need super glue to keep some measure of connection apparent.

"Harry and Son" is a most displeasing affair to witness, a movie cobbled together out of scrap parts without an ounce of coherence. Paul Newman is such a strong, charismatic actor who can emit vulnerability when playing blue collar workers (he is the iconic actor to play such roles) yet here, his mannerisms and body language are forced and never once believable (and he directed himself!) Same with Mr. Aggressively Sincere Robby Benson as Howard - when he yells at his dad, it comes out of nowhere because the buildup is nonexistent. When there is a truce, it is beautifully handled yet again, no real buildup.

The film sits there on the screen with no real life force dispensing imagined life lessons that exist in the screenwriters' minds - it is all on the surface with no momentum. Only Joanne Woodward gives us some semblance of reality with a delicate touch of sympathy, in addition to Ellen Barkin as the sweet pregnant woman. "Harry and Son" though is not a movie - it is a bunch of filmed snapshots.

Dirty Old Man on a Lust Trip or Benevolent Leader?

THE SOURCE FAMILY (2012)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

A stillborn baby comes back to life! A cult family work at a health food restaurant! Actor Bud Cort joined the cult (though he only attended a couple of classes at the restaurant)! A self-proclaimed guru hand glides from atop a cliff and doesn't survive! Is this some sort of modern-day parable about a latter day Jesus? No, this is actually a powerful, rhapsodically intoxicating documentary called "The Source Family." It is so richly alive and such a uniquely transportative movie experience that you really feel you are in a different time and place. It is that transcendence that speaks to the utopian family known as the Source, their ability to speak to those who wanted to join. I've seen a few documentaries about cults but this is the first time I truly felt what it is like to be in one.

Jim Baker aka Father Yod is the Source Family cult leader, a successful businessman (former WW2 soldier and expert martial-artist) who started a few health food restaurants in L.A. near the Sunset Strip in the early 70's, the main attraction being a restaurant called The Source. This restaurant attracted the likes of John Lennon and Goldie Hawn to name a couple, and was even featured in some movies like Woody Allen's "Annie Hall." After some time, a bunch of hippies and 17-year-old girls joined the cult, with the pretense of working at the restaurant, as in washing dishes, waiting on customers, etc. Before long, Father Yod sold his restaurants and they all lived in a giant house, sporting white robes, staring at the skies, loving each other in harmony, smoking small doses of pot and practicing intense meditation. Eventually, the family moved to Hawaii, facing a tougher time of finding work to support each other. Meanwhile, Father Yod uses his powers of persuasion to have sex with multiple underage girls, impregnating a couple and marrying them along the way. Even then, there was a devotion to a man who was slowly becoming a god with penetrating eyes who just wanted peace, a heavenly peace that was still fraught with unfortunate exclusion (Gays were not allowed, for example, and women existed to serve him without any real independence).

Directors Maria Demopoulos and Jodi Wille provide an astounding assembly of sound recordings (Sod's voice itself sounds like a God that is beyond our vocal range), 8mm film footage that covers just about every step of the cult's journey, and several amazing photos. It is an enveloping mosaic that traces everything about the Source Family in all their glory and eventual end (Yod died in a hand gliding accident). Various cult members offer their insights into Yod and his teachings, and how some of his rules got out of hand (he did not believe in seeking professional medical help when someone was injured or worse). Only one member on camera saw through what they perceived as a facade for, as one put it, "a dirty old man on a lust trip." If there is an aspect to Yod we can't figure out, it would be if he was on some sort of lust trip (sex with all underage girls) or if he started to believe he had summoned some sort of cosmic power from the heavens. That enigma brings something forceful to the screen, a rhapsodic need to fuel some measure of passion in the lives of its members that went beyond themselves - to transcend time and space. If he was a con man who just wanted sex, pot and rock and roll (they did have a rock band), this film makes the case that he was in fact a spiritual leader and father to many, warts and all.

Inspired by the book "The Source: The Story of Father Yod, Ya Ho Wa 13, and The Source Family" written by Isis Aquarian and Electricity Aquarian and edited by Jodi Wille (one of the co-directors), "The Source Family" may make some uncomfortable with its own benevolent attitude to a benevolent leader and its cult, though it never paints him as a perfect man/prophet (the guy did kill in his earlier years and robbed banks, left his wife, etc). The film is a hallucinatory, thoroughly engaging trip back to an era post-Manson where a family believed in spreading goodwill and living off the land. We can understand how anyone might've joined this cult and took heed on phrases like “No hurt or harm intended” and “Just be kind.” "The Source Family" is a powderkeg of a documentary that makes you believe that someone could make such ideas real, and then it makes you wonder if Father Yod really believed it himself or if it was an elaborate con.