Savages

2012 drug movie

Rating: 10/20

Plot: Successful marijuana growers battle dangerous Mexican drug lords, and unfortunately, the love of both of their lives gets involved. They have to go to drastic measures to save her.

I am having a very difficult time understanding the relationship that drives this story. You've got the two pot guys--Buddhist Ben and war veteran and general badass Chon--and the one girl played by Blake Lively and named after a Hamlet character. And they're all in love, but it's not a love triangle. No, it's this relationship where they all live together and Blake Lively screws them both and everybody's happy with it. Call me old-fashioned, but I just don't see how that works. And if that doesn't work, the whole movie doesn't really work. I didn't like any of the three major characters. Taylor Kitsch played the badass, and he was just your typical movie badass and nothing more--tattoos, haircut, muscles, scowl, and not much else. Aaron Taylor-Johnson was the hippie, another stereotype more than a real human being. And Blake Lively was nothing more than a pretty face and later a damsel in distress. Oh, and she provides some bad narration filled with terrible puns--war-gasms, a play on Buddhist/Baddhist, a joint venture. Those and the Shakespeare references just were a little too cutesy-clever, especially for a character who was completely bland the rest of the time. Travolta's character had potential, kind of an unlikable pussy. And Travolta's not bad, but he's not really in the movie enough to really get the chance to nail down the character. Del Toro, Demian Bichir (who I know as one of the actors who has gotten a chance to fondle Mary-Louise Parker), and Salma Hayek (wearing a terrible wig) all get parts that Mexico can be proud of. Del Toro does his best to make his character completely despicable, but it's nothing we really haven't seen already. And that's probably the biggest problem with Savages--it just doesn't take any chances. There's some of Stone's experimental trickery that you get with his non-historical dramas like Natural Born Killers or U-Turn, but here it just seems mainstream and gratuitous. The biggest trick of all is when Stone provides two separate endings. Unfortunately, neither one of them is satisfying. And neither is this movie. It lacks inspiration, seeming to borrow ideas from television dramas more than anything else, and never develops the edge that it probably would like to have.

Shane Watches a Bad Movie on Facebook with Friends: The Impossible Kid of Kung-fu

1982 spy movie

Rating: 6/20 (Fred: 19/20; Carrie: 20/20; Libby: did not finish)

Plot: Mr. X, a criminal who wears what looks to be a KKK hood, is kidnapping millionaires as part of some not-very-elaborate plot to get some money. Only one little secret agent can stop him!

I've decided that my Facebook friends don't really understand my movie rating system. Fred called this the worst movie we've seen to date with the Bad Movie Club, but he gave it a 19/20 because he was enamored with a scene where Weng Weng walks on a tightrope. Carrie, halfway through, announced that she wished she would have just done her homework because that would have been more entertaining than this movie. But she was impressed with a scene where Weng Weng jumps over a chasm on a pocket rocket. I mean, who wouldn't be? Libby was unable to finish. But heck, what are people looking for? You've got 2'9" Weng Weng, the previous Billy Curtis Award winner who I wrote about here, riding that aforementioned sweet ride, beating up on thugs three times his size, taking time to love on the ladies a bit, and performs what I have to believe are his own stunts, most notably that jump across the ditch on his motorbike and a leap of about 150 feet from a building. The plot is so simple that a first grader could have penned it, but it still somehow manages to be confusing. Weng Weng's great in this sequel to For Your Height Only, but nobody else in the movie really belongs in a movie. The worst thing about the film is probably the score which alternates between three songs--one flute-heavy suspenseful piece, one song that sounds a little too close to Mancini's "Pink Panther" thing, and another one. They're as repetitive as the rest of the movie. But, come on! Weng Weng displays action chops that I'd stack against anybody's, and he's got one of the best haircuts that I've ever seen. In fact, the next time I get my haircut, I'm going to ask the to "give me the Weng Weng," and when they look at me in a confused manner, I will hook up a VCR and pop in a tape of Weng Weng's highlights. But there's no way in hell I'm going to allow any of them to operate a scissor after that experience!

Freaky Deaky

2012 crime comedy

Rating: 10/20

Plot: I don't really feel like writing a plot synopsis for this movie.

The parts don't come together for this one, a movie based on an Elmore Leonard story. Elmore Leonard's like a Hollywood goldmine. This has a semi-fun story, a bunch of semi-fun characters, and a semi-fun groovy 70's vibe. But it doesn't add up to anything that is much fun at all. When I found out that Crispin Glover and Andy Dick were playing siblings, I thought, "Uh oh. Brace yourself for the apocalypse, Shane." Glover, as expected, is the best thing about the movie. He's long-haired, sometimes plays Twister, and is perpetually stoned. The eccentric millionaire is a good role for Glover. Unfortunately, the movie's just as much about Billy Burke's character, a composite of every detective or hard-boiled copper from every other movie. Burke seems more tired than cool playing this walking cliché. Christian Slater plays a nutty bomb-maker and is exactly as good as you think he'd be. A funk soundtrack is cool, but a saxxy score is really dopey, and a few effects like page-turning transitions just seem like lazy attempts to make this whole thing cooler than it actually turned out. Chapter titles and a goofy made-up cereal won't trick anybody into thinking that "Charles Matthau" is a Tarantino pseudonym.

Oprah Movie Club Pick for March: Se7en

1995 horror crime movie

Rating: 16/20

Plot: A soon-to-be-retired detective breaks in a cocky young detective as a high-concept but psychotic serial killer punishes people for their deadly sins.

This thing's fucking depraved and so devoid of anything resembling hope that I imagine only real sicko could actually be a fan of it. Plus, it's called Se7en with that number in the title, another thing that only those with twisted or damaged souls could appreciate. My feelings are mixed. It's a downer, diving so brazenly into the depths of despair that I'm actually surprised it's so popular. At the same time, it's executed well, artful in its disturbing nature and shameless wallowing in this muddy wretchedness. This seems like the type of movie made in those early days of the Internet for people who would surf the net for celebrity autopsy photos or giggle through Faces of Death IX, but like all artistic triumphs, this is something that sticks in your head and gut for a long time after you've finished the thing and returned it to Carl's Videos. You'll remember that bloated fat man (Bob Mack in his only film role) with his eyes open and a puke bucket under the table that you can almost smell. You'll remember zombie man coughing himself alive, and you'll remember how you jumped a little even though you'd already seen this movie and knew that he was about to cough himself alive. You'll remember Freeman pondering whether he should open that box or not and then his expression when he looks at the contents. And you'll remember Spacey's eyes and wonder how an actor can make his eyes that expressionless.

Part of what makes this memorable is where Fincher places this movie. The first 3/4 of this movie is set in this anonymously decaying city, a bleak place with perpetual rain. It's all creaky fences and half-assed graffiti. When the characters are in their apartments, the outside sounds--cars, crying babies, unintelligible yawping, sirens--penetrate the walls. I watched this movie with headphones, and these outside sounds seemed to surround me and were almost overwhelming, really painting this world of complete chaos. The environments these characters find themselves in are bleak, almost in suffocating ways. There are barely windows in this movie that aren't cracked or broken, dust hangs in the air, walls are peeling and splintered. It is not a happy world at all, visually very far from the "fine  place" described by Hemingway at the quote at the end of the movie. And that rain! Are there any scenes that take place in the city where it's not raining?

The performances are great from top to bottom. Brad Pitt plays a hotshot so well that you'd almost think he was some kind of hotshot in real life. He probably touches his hair too much in this movie, and there are a few times when he probably could have used a second take, but he creates this character, as one-dimensional as the character really is, very well. The climactic "What's in the box?" scene may go down as his most powerful moment in his film career. Freeman is great playing the same character he always plays, a guy who can never ever lose his proverbial shit. I don't think I've ever seen a young and stupid and loud Morgan Freeman in a movie. Does such a movie exist? His opening line--"Look at all that passion on the wall."--almost tells you everything you need to know about his character. Not just the words--the delivery. He's tired and has stopped pretending. The early scenes in the movie have Freeman's character asking questions that people either don't want to hear or don't understand. And he sleeps to a clicking metronome. (Side note: I think movies are automatically better with metronomes. Surely I can't be the only person who finds metronomes sexy.) The clash between Pitt's idealism and Freeman's apathy works largely because of the acting. Paltrow is fine, mostly in the background. She's got a pretty head which is all that really matters in this movie. A lot of her scenes, probably because the mystery and the cat-and-mouse games in the rest of the movie are more interesting, seem like a waste of my time. I also liked R. Lee Ermey (Sarge in the Toy Stories) as the police captain or sergeant or whatever he is. His answering of a telephone with a grumpy "This isn't even my desk!" is one of the very few moments of comedy in this thing. The other would be Spacey's line about a dead dog which is a terrific bit of black comedy although knowing what you know about what's about to happen in that scene, it would almost seem appropriate if Spacey's character looked at the camera and apologized for the line. Spacey is Malkovichian in the role, and though he's only in a small chunk of the movie, he takes advantage of every word he gets to create his character. Oh, and shane-movies favorite Mark Boone Junior is in this playing "Greasy FBI Man." He's perfect at playing a character who doesn't seem to want to be in the movie he's in. And I don't know who plays the guy scraping Somerset's name off the door, but that guy shines in a 4 1/2 second role. He just nails that scene, nearly steals the whole movie as a matter of fact. Unfortunately, I can't find his name.

Quick question: (And I'm sorry for spoilers, but this is the Oprah Movie Club, and you were already supposed to have watched this.) What do you think of the whole library card thing? Is it my imagination or is that a little lame? Chaucer, Dante, Milton, Shakespeare. It's not like these aren't difficult texts to acquire. The killer had books in his apartment. If he's going to go to the trouble of having his freakin' fingerprints removed, it doesn't seem like he would be so careless with a library card.

From the squelchy NIN remix over ominous credits featuring meticulous crazy person activity to the shocking conclusion, this is a movie that your stomach will never forget. It's not pleasant, but neither is the world sometimes.

This is currently the 22nd top-rated movie on imdb.com. I know there's absolutely nothing scientific about those ratings, but for a movie this pessimistic or bleak, that seems so high.

Little Cigars

 

1973 little person crime caper

Rating: 12/20

Plot: On the run from gangsters, regular-sized Cleo hooks up with five diminutive performers who use their stage show as a front for some thieving. She and their leader Slick Bender strike up a romance as their crimes get more and more ambitious.

I love watching things that make my wife ask "What are you watching?" in a way that makes me think she'd ask "What the hell are you watching?" if she cursed more. She did that twice for this movie. I had to watch it in two installments, and she was confused by it twice.

The appeal for me, of course, was all the little people, especially shane-movies favorite Billy Curtis from The Terror of Tiny Town. Little Curtis is so angry through most of this. Look at this collection of lines:

Billy: Don't ever call a midget a dwarf.
Guy: What's the difference?
Billy: (in a whispery voice) Broken arm.

"Alright, you little perverts!"
"Is that the name of the game today? Teasing midgets?"
"If there are any heroes in here today, they're gonna be dead ones."
(After emerging from a crate with disheveled hair and a giant sweat stain on his shirt) "Boy, am I glad to be out of that son of a bitch."
"You don't have to tiptoe, you slut."
"Put me down!"

He also gets to fight a little bit in a bar, and it looks more realistic than half of Hollywood's fights. But there are other little people fights--including one where they gang up on one guy, another that is little-person-on-little-person, and a water fight that might be the hottest thing I've ever seen--and other little people. There's mustachioed Cadillac played by the great-voiced Jerry Maren who worked with the Marx brothers and got the chance to hand Dorothy a lollipop. He was also in the "Yada Yada" episode of Seinfeld. Frankie (Felix Silla) has the best voice of this crew. He fixes things in this movie but also played an Ewok, several aliens, Misquamacus in The Manitou, and Twiki in Buck Rogers in the 25th Century which is a pretty big deal if you ask me. Hugo is one muscular midget (I can use that word if there's alliteration--it's a rule.) and is played by Emory Souza who wasn't in a lot of movies but did do stunts in Dirty Harry. And there's Frank Delfino who looks a lot like Walter Matthieu and who played the Hamburglar in McDonalds commercials for over 20 years. A little guy named Buddy Douglas plays an attorney and is really awesome.

But who else is in this, albeit in a limited role? Angelo Rossitto, from Freaks. He's the smallest of a bunch of little people in a police line-up, and the only one of those guys to get lines, ramblings about being an honorary sheriff. Man, I love all 2 feet and 11 inches of that guy!

This movie's a hit 'n' miss affair. The biggest problem is that its makers don't seem sure what kind of movie they're even making. A black comedy? An action crime movie? It's dark without being funny too often. The capers don't make much sense, and the five little people and one statuesque blond woman seem a little conspicuous. It seems that the writers are playing a little game of "Let's see how many interesting places we can fit a little person," but all of the capers could be accomplished by just walking into a place with a gun and saying, "This is a stick-up!" like they end up doing anyway. The only thing silllier than their crime spree is the Little Cigars' act which might be the worst thing ever. Speaking of the statuesque blond, I do like her. She's Angel Tompkins and gets to be on screen in a towel and her underwear. Such a tease. She calls Billy Curtis a "piss pot" and has a fantastic wink. She's in this to look sexy and manages to pull that off. I loved one line of hers spoken to Curtis: "Because I'm an old lady, and I dig your little ass."

One other thing I really liked about this one was the ridiculous amount of off-screen asides, what I'm going to refer to "Attaboy, Luthers" from now on:

"Why, that cigar's bigger than he is!"
"That guy's shot!" (I love that one!)
"Watch out! Crazy driver! She's out of her head!"
"Hell, that's better than a waterbed." (during a Billy Curtis pillow demonstration)
"I'm gonna feed it to my bull!" (this one has to do with fertility candy bars)
"Like people with toy guns."

I enjoyed this, but it's not a very good movie. Check it out if you like little people in cinema as much as me. If that's possible.

Detour

1945 film noir

Rating: 16/20

Plot: A piano player on his way across country to visit his girlfriend in Los Angeles runs into some trouble after the man he hitches a ride with dies. The piano player assumes his identity and picks up a really mean passenger.

Such a fascinating little movie. On the one hand, it looks really cheap and the characters are generic. Edgar G. Ulmer directed the thing on a nothing budget in just six days. Tom Neal is awfully whiny as our protagonist and narrator and lacks punch, but he's an acceptable dupe. Ann Savage with her "homely natural beauty" is a vicious little bitch, squeezing pulpy insults out the sides of her mouth ("Kiss him with a wrench," "You'll pop into jail so fast it'll give you the bends") and bringing the feisty a little too hard. He's mopey and she's nasty, but together, they approach something close to noir magic with their hateful exchanges that dominate the second half of this movie.And Ulmer does a whole lot with his little. This storytelling's got lots of style with all these sneaky voyeuristic camera movements, hazy exteriors, a great use of shadows and light, and a terrific scene following a death with an in-and-out-of-focus glance around the room. With an interesting though less-than-plausible plot and a handful of damned characters, some who even realize they're damned, this is pretty far from perfect but still a good example of the genre made during its golden era. I would have preferred a less obvious ending, however. This should have ended with a shot of the protagonist walking on the shoulder of a highway, a lost doomed soul completely alone. It's too bad the lost doomed soul had to be arrested at the end because this movie was made in 1945.

Note: I'm surprised film noir classics I watched as a toddler didn't turn me into a smoker. I almost want to start smoking now so that I can talk with a cigarette in my mouth like characters like Al do. How did these movies not turn me into a smoker when I was a lot more impressionable?

Reservoir Dogs (Redux)

1992 Tarantino film

Rating: 18/20 (Dylan: 14/20)

Plot: My son is going to college soon, and his pool of pop culture knowledge is despicably shallow. I'd be remiss as a father if I didn't attempt to do something about it. When I thought about how he might be sitting in a dorm room some day and have to hear "What? You've never seen Pulp Fiction?", it made me sad. He didn't want to watch Reservoir Dogs until I tricked him into it by telling him there would be talking dogs.

Dylan's thoughts: It was pretty good.
Me: Is that all you want to say? That's pretty lame.
Dylan: It's good enough.

I already have this movie on the blog right here. The rating hasn't changed. I have nothing intelligent to add and more than likely had nothing intelligent to say in the first place. This and Pulp Fiction--the next Tarantino movie I'm making Dylan watch, tricking him this time by convincing him that it's a documentary about orange juice--are endlessly rewatchable. This one is a much simpler story about honorable criminals paying for their crimes, and although the structure is different from its cousins, it's not got the thematic complexity or variety of Tarantino's second movie. It still manages to seem so fresh though. In fact, the director's flair almost stands out more. This time through, I really focused on the relationship between Tim Roth and Harvey Keitel's characters. There's a lingering attention to these two and their emotions. It's not just the dialogue but how much weight is given to the situation which makes what ultimately happens to them pretty moving. These are movie criminals, barely more than cartoons, but they've got flesh, and when they bleed, they seem to bleed in ways that matter. The way all the characters come to life is amazing, a combination of quality acting, writing, and story organization. There's not a bad acting apple in the bunch unless you're as annoyed by Tarantino's skills as much as I used to be. But it's not like he's around all that long. Roth's pain is especially cartoonish, and he always sounds like Bobcat Goldthwaite to me. And his practice sessions telling that story about the drug-sniffing dog don't seem all that natural. However, everything that somebody could say is wrong about his performance in Reservoir Dogs should be forgotten with his expression after he shoots that woman. That's so perfect. Keitel oozes cool, compulsive hair combing and all. The way he reassures Roth's character--"I didn't know you were a doctor!"--makes me laugh. Buscemi's Mr. Pink is classically greasy, and it's one of those characters that you just can't imagine another person being able to pull off. His activities during the Mexican stand-off also make me laugh. And his running after the failed heist when he knocks over a guy on the sidewalk produces the greatest use of the Wilhelm Scream that I have ever heard. In fact, I'll go ahead and say that it's the greatest use that I'll ever hear because I don't think it can be topped. I think I could listen to Buscemi and Tierney's argument about the Mr. Pink name every day and not get tired of it. Madsen's Vic Vega is a character that doesn't make much sense at all and probably couldn't survive outside of a Tarantino movie. The ear scene is always a little hard to watch for me, but you have to love a character who stops for a soft drink after a heist-gone-wrong. "Are you going to bark all day, little doggy, or are you going to bite?" is a great line, but how about your last words being a quote from The Wizard of Oz? That just seems like an impossible way for a violent criminal to go.

Ok, I'm going to digress. If you were about to die, which quote from The Wizard of Oz would you want to be your last words? I know what I wouldn't want it to be--"Lions and tigers and bears, oh my!" Maybe "What puts the 'ape' in apricot?" would be a good one just because it would be "Rosebud"-y enough to make people wonder what the hell I was talking about. How about "I can barely hear my heart beating"?

I also like Madsen's little dance. The aforementioned Tierney is great, too, such a cool old man. Two more things I really like about this movie: 1) The way Stephen Wright pronounces the word "behemoth" and 2) that message to Tony above a doorway--"Watch your head."

The Limits of Control

2009 movie

Rating: 14/20

Plot: A guy who does not speak Spanish globetrots on a mysterious mission, exchanging matchboxes with strangers, lugging around guitars for a few days, and drinking espresso.

It's my blog, and if I want to give a movie a Benefit-of-the-Doubt bonus point, I will. Because really, I didn't understand what this movie was about. It was frustrating, like when I sat around and contemplated the sound of one hand clapping and never really figured out what the hell that was all about either. I don't know who's controlling or limiting who in this movie. Jarmusch plays around with language barriers again, this time with a recurring gag where the protagonist is asked if she speaks Spanish. There's all these random characters who pop in, and one of them is very naked, and after a while, this does have the feel of a reflective batch of non-sequiturs or a quiet explosion of Zen mantras. Two espressos, not a double. Is that just funny or does it mean something? A guy prattles on about the memory of instruments, Tilda Swinton pops in to reminisce about film and the "old stuff," a guy says that we're all just a set of shifting molecules, two characters mention that the universe has no center and no edges, and there's discussion of Bohemians and hallucinations. The guy changes shiny suits a few times, travels from here to there, and runs into Bill Murray. There's a cool shift in settings, from the artsy modern imagery and weird architecture of the early scenes to a more run-down dilapidated and dusty setting by the end. I'm sure that means something, but I'm clueless. Bill Murray is called The American in this. Is he a symbol? Why's there a skull on his desk? I could meditate on this film or think about whether my belly button actually exists. This crawls by at a snail's pace, so if you've got the brain for what Jarmusch is trying to do, you definitely have enough space for your mind to crawl around in. There's a coolness to the proceedings, and Isaach De Bankole very nearly creates an iconic hero, but this is one that is very difficult to sink teeth into. I suspect my rating is either way too high or a little too low. What do I know anyway? I'm just a set of shifting molecules. I might see this movie again to figure it out in ten or so years.

Larry anti-recommended this movie, but I watched it anyway.

The Great Muppet Caper

1981 shenanigans

Rating: 16/20 (Jen: fell asleep; Dylan: 13/20 ; Emma: 18/20; Abbey: 20/20)

Plot: Kermit and his twin brother Fozzie are newspaper men who, along with their photographer Gonzo, aren't doing a very good job. They get one last shot to report a big story and travel to London to get a scoop on a jewel heist.

For my money, this is the funniest of the Muppet movies. And Jim Henson's just showing off here in this more freewheeling and irreverent follow-up to The Muppet Movie. He's got Muppets swimming, a Muppet multitude riding bicycles, Muppets flying through the air, Muppets climbing up the sides of buildings. There are so many moments where you just scratch your head and wonder, "How the hell are these puppets doing that?" Yes, the story is more than a little goofy, and a lot of the puns are very nearly painful. But the cameos aren't as obtrusive as in the predecessor (Peter Falk is particularly funny), and, if I'm remembering clearly enough, there are more Muppets involved in this one. The Swedish Chef, that eagle guy, Stafford and Waldorf, Dr. Teeth and the Electric Mayhem, Bunson and Beaker, and a bunch of others not even I can name all have their chance to be funny. A lot of this takes place in a dilapidated hotel called The Happiness Hotel, the only free place Kermit, Fozzie, and Gonzo can find in London. It's a place slightly better--maybe a fourth of a star better--than the motel I worked at. Only it's got a bitchin' bus. And when I imagine that bus without all those Muppets hanging out the window, it makes me want to tell a stranger about it while grabbing him by the shoulders and vigorously shaking them. Charles "Freakin'" Grodin hams it up--in a good way--as the villain while John Cleese and Peter Ustinov are also funny in small roles. Oscar the Grouch also has a brief cameo appearance. But it's really the five guys who do the voice work for thirty-three (if I counted correctly) Muppets that are the stars here. The Muppet movements and, as weird as it feels to say this, facial expressions helps them blend into the settings and make them feel like living things, but it's the voice work that gives them their personalities. Lots of laughs during this family movie night, so much that I'm surprised Jen didn't wake up. Oh, and this makes yet another musical for family movie night. The songs in this are fine if not especially memorable. The Electric Mayhem get to throw down on the bus. I wonder if that bus would have been allowed at the airport. My boss at my motel told me that I had to take the magnet with our name off the door when I picked up customers at the airport because "we are not allowed there." I never asked what the hell he meant by that.

I'm going to have to re-evaluate my ratings for all these Muppet movies. The Muppet Movie and the new one were both 15/20 according to the blog. Treasure Island was only a 12/20, but it's not very good. I guess Manhattan isn't on the blog, so that might be an upcoming family movie night pick. But that rating for The Muppet Movie seems awfully low, especially since it does have memorable songs and, if I'm remembering correctly, a wild Muppet sex scene.

Trivia time: Charles "Freakin'" Grodin was in one of the worst movies I have ever seen. Want to guess what that was?

Blood Simple

1984 thriller

Rating: 17/20

Plot: Bar owner Marty gets word from a private investigator who drives a VW Bug that his wife is cheating on him with an employee. He hires the same private investigator to kill them both. Since this is the Coens' world, one in which all private investigators drive VW Bugs, you can guess that it doesn't go as well as expected.

Here's the reason that I like the Coen Brothers' movies so much: it's the non-sequiturs, the little details or asides that have nothing to do with what's really going with the characters but adds that little extra bit of humor or despair or suspense or whatever that gives their stories a unique flavor. It's like they take deliberate detours because even though they know the straight path from Point A to Point B is the easiest way to go, it's just not the most interesting. Sometimes, it's sound effects in Blood Simple--a bug zapper, a blurping computer. And sometimes, it's the visuals--Walsh's smoke rings after decapitation is threatened, Maurice's quick shuffle on the bar in those white Chuck Taylors of his, the shovel dragging on the asphalt, a newspaper hitting the door. And then sometimes, it's a bit of film that some editors, if they come from a newspaper background where skimping on letters can save some cash, would say, "Hold up a second. Is this scene necessary?" I love the one where Ray has forgotten to turn off his headlights and the guy who was flashing at him to let him know as he approached makes this strange little finger gun sign as he passes. And poor Marty who leaves Ray's house with his tail between his legs and drives off only to realize that he needs to turn around and pass the house a second time. The Coens also create suspense so well in this. It's impressive how you still get that feeling in your stomach during the scene when the detective goes to the house where Ray and Abby are sleeping even though you've seen this before and know exactly what's going to happen. That camera following the detective as he rushes out of the house. It's so effective, and foreshadows the Coens' flamboyant style in their following films. You can also see it in the shot when the camera moves over the bar and is forced to hop over an unconscious guy's head and another overhead shot interrupted by the ceiling fan's blades. And back to the suspense. Can you beat that final twenty minutes? Again, you know what happens because you've seen the movie, but it still manages to pack a punch, a lengthy scene that doesn't have any dialogue at all until it does at the end and shocks you with a little dramatic irony. And then you're immediately hit with a bit more irony with the Tops' "Same Old Song." The music, if you isolate it, seems pretty dated, but it's effective here, especially in that scene where the detective goes to kill Ray and Abby and the opening scene with some accompanying ominous windshield wiper rhythm. Solid performances here, too, with M. Emmet Walsh giving a prototypical Coen performance as the dick. "Give me a call whenever you want to cut off my head. I can always crawl around without it." The guy sweats like a pro, too. My favorite bit of dialogue is this one:

Marty: I got a job for you.

Detective: Well, if the pay's right and it's legal, I'll do it.

Marty: It's not strictly legal.

Detective: Well, if the pay's right, I'll do it.

Of course, that's not the very best line in the film because there's "Hey, mister. How'd you break your pussy finger?" in there somewhere. That's said to Dan Hedaya's Marty, and normally, I'd say Hedaya is the type of person you wouldn't want to say something like that to. In Blood Simple, he plays a really interesting character, one who's got this very thin outer shell of tough guy but is nothing but goo on the inside.

A sidenote: I remember watching this the first time and hating the scene where we're shown the detective's lighter under the fish because they drew attention to it twice. I remember thinking, "C'mon, Coen Brothers. I'm not that dumb. We get it. We don't need to see it twice." Then, the lighter turns out to be barely more than a red herring. Cute.

Another sidenote: Did you know that Barry Sonnenfeld did the vomiting sound effects for Marty?

The Taking of Pelham One Two Three

1974 actioner

Rating: 17/20

Plot: Some guys in hats and fake mustaches take a group of subway passengers hostage on a subway car and demand one million dollars for their release. One million dollars was a lot more money in 1974. For whatever reason, New York decides to let the guy who coached the Bad News Bears take care of things.

This really intelligent action picture with a witty script and cool performances from Matthau and Ben Stiller's dad is nothing but solid entertainment from beginning to end, not a single lull. There's an interesting quartet of villains, more intimidating maybe because they're anonymous and underdeveloped, and like in Reservoir Dogs, they have colors for aliases. Of course, Tarantino would never steal another movie's ideas, so that's probably just a coincidence. He's probably never even seen this movie! The script is great with the characters getting some cool one-liners without it sounding obnoxious. I also like the red herring that's thrown in there, referenced more than a few times in generally chauvinistic ways, and the little detail that winds up mattering in the end is too silly not to be completely awesome. It sets up a fantastic ending as well. This is an action movie that manages to be an action movie without much action at all. There's a scene where a car goes really fast, another scene where a guy runs a little bit, and a couple characters who get shot. Oh, and there's a bit of a shoot-out. But it's not the bombast that makes this exciting; it's the thinking required of the characters and their audience. The cinematography is plain enough to keep it all just a little bit gritty, a movie you'd be less willing to lick than a subway bathroom floor. But you will lick it and love the simplicity of the storytelling and the personality in the dialogue. Pretty brilliant stuff!

Fargo

1996 movie

Rating: 19/20 (Jen: 19/20; Dylan: 10/20)

Plot: Used car salesman Jerry Lundegaard needs some cash and has thought of the perfect crime in order to get it. He hires a pair of guys--a big one and a funny-looking one--to kidnap his wife so that he can split the ransom money with them. It doesn't go very well. Hot on the trail is a pregnant police officer.

"Where is pancakes house?"

I remember the feeling I had after watching Fargo for the first time. I was kind of stunned. Part of it may have been that I fell for the Coen "Based on a true story" gag. Part of it was definitely what happened with all these characters who I really enjoyed spending time with. And part of it was just because the movie was so damn good. Oh, and part of it was how much I laughed or smiled while watching some really awful people trying to pull off some really dreadful things. It made me wonder if there was something wrong with me. The overall tone, one established with that opening shot with that somber violin music and the truck on the highway. But there's a delicious black humor (yes, I did just type that, bitches!) under the surface. And part of this movie's brilliance is the way it blends the murder mystery genre and comedy so perfectly in a way where neither interferes with the other. Of course, it's the performances that make that happen. Macy's profoundly dopey and, as far as I know, just nails that accent. McDormand does, too, the moral center for this story and the only character in the whole thing who is likable. She's so atypical for the character she represents in a murder mystery. There's nothing the least bit Bogarty about her, but it's a terrific performance with some surprising depth. I mentioned that Marge is the only character you can like. You might not like the kidnapping duo, but it's impossible to not be entertained by them. Buscemi's every movement is perfect, and Peter Stormare, as we've already established, is the greatest actor of all time. Harve Presnell, Steve Reevis as Shep Proudfoot (great name), John Carroll Lynch as Mr. Marge Gunderson, Larry Brandenburg as Stan Grossman, Bain Boehlke as the guy who gives the final tip, the hookers. There's not a weak link in the bunch. And I know what some of you are thinking--what about Scotty, the son? Isn't he likable? Well, yes. I'll give you that, but only because he apparently plays the accordion. This is about as entertaining as a movie can be for the type of funny-looking fellow that I am. So why doesn't it get a perfect score? For Jen, it's the sex scenes because she's a prude. For me, I've never been able to figure out if the Mike Yanagita character really belongs. That's a lengthy scene that adds only a little bit to our understanding of Marge, marginally has to do with one of the overall themes (something Marge "just don't understand"), and has nothing to do with the main plot. And Dylan? I'm not sure what his problem is. He only watched this because I made a deal with him that he wouldn't have to participate in family movie night. He jumped at the chance but wasn't impressed with this movie which might lead to us giving him up for adoption.

One more thing: I need one more movie to complete a wood chipper trifecta. Anybody got any ideas?

Oh, another thing: Did you know Bruce Campbell's sort of in this?

30 Minutes or Less

2011 comedy

Rating: 12/20

Plot: A pair of criminals plan the perfect crime but don't have enough money to execute it. So they plan another perfect crime--kidnap a pizza delivery person, strap a bomb to him, and force him to rob a bank. Poor Jesse Eisenberg.

This is the exoskeleton of something that Don Knotts and Tim Conway would have been in with raunchiness and loudness stuck to it. The problem might be that Jesse Eisenberg is no Don Knotts. Nobody is. See, part of me--especially after his really good work in The Social Network and the humorous The Living Wake which might just be funny despite him--wants to push our differences aside, forget that his sister made those Pepsi commercials which did worse things to my stomach than drinking carbonated beverages could ever do, forgive him for a brow which he can't even help, and try to like the guy. But after liking him in a couple movies, this happens. He's not really the problem with this at all though. Neither is Aziz Ansari who I also want to like, probably just because he's on Parks and Recreation. Their chemistry here as BFF's seems a little forced. Then again, I'm pretty sure it would be hard for anybody to stand next to Jesse Eisenberg in a movie and make whatever relationship seem natural. I do like how Ansari is referred to as a "mini-genie" here. Oh, and Michael Pena plays a character named Chang, and he just grabs this character by the nuts and runs with it. This ends up just being another one of those modern comedies, one that takes a clever enough idea and fails to do enough with it. There are some funny individual lines ("You had a lunchables for dinner.") and I thought it was funny how Nick Swardson's character made monkey noises during the kidnapping scene. And I really liked this bit of dialogue:

Swardson's dumb character: Where the hell did all these leaves come from?
Danny McBride's dumb character: Where do you think? Fucking trees.
Swardson's dumb character: That's what she said.

But too often, the humor in this seems like it was collected by spinning The Hangover or Superbad around really fast and waiting for some stuff to fly off so that it could be inserted in this script. I don't think I'll remember much about this movie in a few months, and I doubt I start quoting it this weekend at my 20 year reunion.

The Adventures of Elmo in Grouchland

1999 movie

Rating: 12/20

Plot: One day, the folks on Sesame Street decided that they needed more cash, probably to support the drug habits of half of the population and to continue to pay off folks to keep the secret about Bert and Ernie's relationship a secret. One of them said, "You know what? Elmo's enormously popular even though he's about the most boring character we have. Let's do a movie about him!" Somebody else asked, "What the hell are we going to have Elmo do? He just sits in his room talking to himself and acting like he's mentally challenged!" The first somebody answered, "It doesn't matter. We can just have him walking around for eighty minutes." Somebody else said, "No, we have to have him do something!" Then, somebody else said, "I got it! Why don't we just use the same basic plot of Pee Wee's Big Adventure. Kids can't watch that anymore anyway since Pee Wee jerked off in that theater." Somebody argued, "But Elmo doesn't even have a bike. Plus, people laugh when we have these Muppets walk around. Elmo on a bike would look really ridiculous." Somebody else said, "We can have him looking for his blanket then." Then somebody suggested that that they pad the length by making it a musical but was reminded that the only guy on Sesame Street, the genius who penned "Rubber Ducky" and "People in My Neighborhood" and all of the Roosevelt Franklin songs in a single opium-inspired thirty-five minutes, who knew how to write songs was in rehab. They decided to just write a few songs themselves, and though uninspiring and not memorable at all, they decided that Mandy Patinkin, who owed them a favor for helping him cover up a scandal that also involved Bert and Ernie, could give them a little life. They wrote and revised everything in a fortnight, tried to find the Roosevelt Franklin puppet but couldn't, wrote Roosevelt Franklin out of the script, shot it in a few weeks, and released it. It inspired an alarming number of blanket thefts and was banned in a few Eastern European countries. The end.

Masturbating to this turned out to be nearly pointless.

Get your motherfucking hand out of my motherfucking ass!

Drive

2011 driving movie

Rating: 16/20

Plot: A Driver with No Name is a stuntman by day and a getaway driver by night. Mystery surrounds him. He works at a garage, purchases groceries, and doesn't talk a lot. That is until he befriends his cute neighbor and her young son. Well, actually he still doesn't talk a lot even then. When the patriarch of that little family gets out of jail, our protagonist is sucked into some criminal activity that forces him into a sticky situation. Oh, snap! Shit's about to get real!

With a slightly different feel, this movie would have been a major disappointment for me. Other than some of that terrible modern electronic music we're hearing in every other movie these days and a few quick shots of exploding heads or stomped-on heads that seemed to appear on the screen for nothing but cheap shock value, I really dug the style of this one. Gosling hits the quiet,-too-quiet existential anti-hero perfectly, and like most movies featuring this type of characters, what isn't explained about his character manages to be just as interesting as what is happening on the screen. Ron Perlman and the always-hilarious Albert Brooks are both sufficiently nasty here. The latter, only minimally funny here actually, was especially good, his nastiness rivaling his work in Finding Nemo. While watching this, I couldn't figure out if I was actually liking it very much, but now I kind of want to watch it again to see if it's much closer to being a neo-noir masterpiece than I'm thinking it is. I really like what this director, the Danish Nicholas Winding Refn (What kind of dopey name is that?), does with violence. It's visceral, tough on both of the senses you use to enjoy movies, appallingly beautiful, exciting, disgusting, and usually so quick that it's almost shocking. It's movie violence but somehow manages to transcend normal tough guy fist-pumping movie violence and retain an artsiness that I like. It's hard to explain, but he did the same thing in the equally-engaging Bronson.

I think fans of The Help would probably really like this one.

Broadway Danny Rose

1984 comedy

Rating: 16/20

Plot: The titular struggling agent attempts to resurrect the career of a lounge singer. A big break might be on the horizon, but it involves Danny sneaking the singer's mistress into the big show, a seemingly easy chore that doesn't end up that way.

Easy-going breezy comedy with a shot of nostalgia, and that's just not because it's in black and white. Woody Allen, by the way, might be as good an actor as Quentin Tarantino. I really like Mia Farrow here, acting most of time behind giant sunglasses. This is very funny for a movie from the 1930s. It's also got a sweet, 1930's ending that doesn't make much sense.

From Dusk till Dawn

1996 George Clooney movie

Rating: 14/20

Plot: A pair of brothers kidnap a faithless preacher and his two children, drive to Mexico, and meet up with some vampires and Fred Williamson.

A tale of two movies, the first a very written tale of criminal activity and possible neurosis and the second a balls-to-the-grindstone (is that a phrase?) vibrant and chaotic and squelchy erupted bloodbath with decapitations and stake piercings. And Salma Hayek, a woman who makes Juliette Lewis look like a little boy. The brothers are interesting even if they're a bit cardboardish, and even though you've already seen this movie, it's still got a way to keep you guessing. There's a solid ten minutes in this, right after Salma's little dance, that is about as exhiliratingly bitchin' as cheapo gross-out mayhem can get. But my favorite part is how John Hawkes' Pete pronounces "microwave" or maybe his magazine selection. That and the words "Hey, Monkeyman."

Recommended for people who really liked The Help.

Thieves Like Us

1974 crime movie

Rating: 16/20

Plot: Bowie, Chicamaw, and T-Dub escape from prison and team up to become a bank-robbing team. While hiding out in a gas station, young Bowie falls for the owner's daughter who may or may not be Popeye's girlfriend. I'll have to check the timeline to verify that one. The life of crime puts a strain on their relationship.

In the last week, I've seen both Keith and David Carradine without shirts, both at the height of their pectoral powers. With a little research, I can probably see Robert Carradine's nipples, too, and complete what might be the first ever Carradine Nipple Trifecta. It'll be a first for this blog anyway.

Also, I got the opportunity to see Shelley Duvall naked. If I remember correctly (this could just be a delusion or fantasy on my part), she's also naked in Altman's 3 Women. I told my brother, a guy who I remember describing Shelley Duvall as "hot," and he emailed, "What was it like?" It's actually exactly like you'd imagine it to be.

This is one of those less-busy Altman movies with a focus on a lot less characters. Really, it's a focus on two naive souls and this impossible little romance that develops in the middle of this bank-robbing crime spree. It's a quiet, reflective movie, and the cinematography perfectly captures this long-gone Great Depression-era Americana. It's gorgeous and it's dusty, and it's got one of the things I really like about Altman--that ability to show this quiet little moment and make it feel like it's an important memory that came right from your own head. Also contributing to the period flavor is a lack of movie soundtrack. With this, you get all crackly diegetic music, mostly from radio seriels. Add some creaky rocking chairs and footsteps on a wooden floor and you've got a setting that is as quiet as the 1930s in the middle of all that dust. Even the robbery scenes, all but one at least, are quiet. Most of them are shot in a way so that the action can't even be seen. I think it's Altman trying to be funny. Altman's wry humor is all over this otherwise serious crime story actually. It's seen in the ineptitude of the titular thieves, especially during a "drawing straws" scene that I thought was hilarious but didn't laugh at. I was also amused at a robbing practice scene with a kid in blackface playing a porter. Carradine is good as this naive kid in way over his head, and the other two-thirds of the robbing trio--John Schuck and Burt Remsen--are perfectly cast. And I really do like Shelley Duvall who I always think is underrated as an actress.

Street Thief

2006 faux-documentary

Rating: 15/20

Plot: Although reluctantly, the titular professional Kaspar Carr gives two documentary filmmakers permission to follow him around as he gets some work done. Then, something goes wrong. Then, some other things happen.

This is a fresh look at the crime genre thanks to the director and star's borrowing of the currently faddish mockumentary sub-genre. In a way, it's a lot like one of my faves, the great Man Bites Dog, only not nearly as violent or dark. Director Malik Bader plays the thief, and apparently he does a good enough job that there are some people who think this whole thing is real. I enjoyed the complex character, components of real street thieves Bader encountered while living in Chicago. There are things about this that will frustrate a lot of viewers. Not a lot happens for large chunks of time, but for me, the attention to minutia was appreciated as it really helped characterize and add to the enigmatic, open-ended denouement. The film's style gave it this ultra-gritty feel that also contributed to the real-ness of the story. I enjoyed the twists and turns of this guy's story and thought this was a really interesting character study. It's fun to read message board posts about how this is real, too.

Reservoir Dogs

1992

Rating: 18/20

Plot: A gaggle of criminals attempt to steal some jewels, but it doesn't turn out very well.

Still fresh--20 years later. It's a canned food movie. I could complain about Tarantino as an actor. You know, I think I will complain about Tarantino as an actor. No, the movie's wouldn't be the same without him in there, but that doesn't mean he should have been in there. When he "acts," it just looks like he's about to bust into a series of uncontrollable giggles. Still, it somehow manages to fit, just like these criminals discussing Madonna and arguing over tipping manages to work. I could watch Harvey Kietel kicking somebody for hours, and I even like Tim Roth here, even when he seems to be channeling Bobcat Goldthwait. Verbose and wormy Buscemi, unhinged and shuffling Madsen, Chris Penn rocking that track suit. I'm sure if Tarantino had a do-over, he'd put Chris Penn in a pair of Zubaz. And then there's Laurence Tierney who kicks everybody's ass, both on screen and probably literally. It's amazing to me that Tarantino had such a command of things with this first effort. The plot is effortlessly complex, fragmented in a way that manages to enhance the feelings involved with these characters. His characterization, dialogue, use of music, utilization of the Wilhelm Scream, and numerous left-turns look like the work of a guy who has made at least two movies! It's the work of an auteur and something that, after you're finished, makes you say, "Wow! That was as cool as it gets!"

Has anybody seen the Asian movie that Tarantino ripped off with this?

And hey, readers, do you know what I just discovered? Zubaz pants are only $29.99 on the Zubaz website. You should check it out!