Get Shorty (1995) ****

 

Chili Palmer (John Travolta) is a cool character, as cool as you can get. He wears a cool leather jacket, he can handle his fists or a gun, and when he is collecting money from people who owe him, he doesn't get upset at the little things. He is, however, getting tired of the life of a small-time loan shark, taking orders from jerks like “Bones” Barboni (Dennis Farina). When a collection job takes him to L.A. and the living room of a Hollywood producer, even a B-movie producer like Harry Zimm (Gene Hackman), Chili senses a chance to break into a better line of work. Chili pitches his own story to Harry as a movie idea, and just like that, Chili finds himself in the movie business, which turns out to be not so different from the loan-shark business.

As a character, Chili is too good to be true, always cool and collected, a total bad-ass, but still a gentleman. This gangster comedy works because of all the other kooky characters, including the gangsters and movie producers, as well as Rene Russo as a sexy scream-queen actress and Danny DeVito as an unlikely leading man. Director Barry Sonenfeld also gets excellent supporting turns from James Gandolfini and Delroy Lindo.

“Get Shorty” is based on the Elroy Leonard novel of the same name. It holds up well to repeat viewings, and while it isn't the peak of Elroy Leonard adaptions (That title goes to “Jackie Brown”), it's a fun parody of a Hollywood culture where everyone has a screenplay in their back pocket.

4 stars out of 5

Death on the Nile (2022) ***1/2

 

I won't claim to be the biggest Agatha Christie fan. Her detective stories are too old-fashioned and mannered for me. I prefer the Philip Marlowe style of detective, the guys who pound the pavement and get their asses kicked until the guilty parties tip their hands. Nonetheless, Christie's deductive geniuses do have a certain style. Of her works I have read, Murder on the Orient Express is the best, and rightfully her most famous. Death on the Nile would probably be runner-up. Both have been adapted to the screen more than once.

Kenneth Branagh's 2017 iteration of “Murder on the Orient Express” was a massive hit, bringing in over $350 million worldwide. Those are Marvel Comics numbers, and on a much lower budget, so it's no surprise that Branagh would get another shot at directing and playing detective Hercule Poirot. The story finds Poirot on holiday, exploring the cultural riches of Egypt. There, on a boat cruising the Nile, a love triangle turns violent, and Poirot is compelled to solve the case.

This is not the most memorable film, but it has its moments, and it is worthwhile popcorn entertainment. Screenwriter Michael Green deviates from the novel in the beginning, giving some Poirot back-story and using a jazz-age nightclub to establish the central love triangle much more succinctly than the novel does. The film is graced with an all-star cast, including Gal Godot and Emma Mackey as the former friends competing for the heart of Armie Hammer. The cinematography of the Egyptian ruins and countryside is gorgeous.

I don't know about you, but I have never witnessed or been present at a murder, and the same goes for most people I know. Hercule Poirot, however, keeps having murders occur around him, despite the fact that he is a famous detective. You would think that seeing Poirot on board a train or boat might stay a murderer's hand. At the very least, you might expect this propensity to affect Poirot's social popularity. As it goes, evildoers always try to outsmart the detective, and he remains the toast of society.

3.5 stars out of 5

Voyage of the Rock Aliens (1984) ***

 

If you like off-beat movies like “The Rocky Horror Picture Show” and “The Adventures of Buckaroo Banzai Across the 8^th Dimension,” then here's a chance to really test your taste for the weird. “Voyage of the Rock Aliens” is a musical spoof of sci-fi, horror, and beach movies that makes “Buckaroo Banzai” look like “Citizen Kane.”

To the extent that it matters, the plot involves a group of space aliens who cross the galaxy in a guitar-shaped spaceship, searching for rock-n-roll. They land in a small town, where their leader, ABCD, falls in lust with high-schooler DeeDee. (Pia Zadora, whose character is clearly named for the level of her acting skills, which makes her by far the most talented person in the film.) ABCD and his crew research earth life while avoiding the local sheriff (Ruth Gordon) and dealing with DeeDee's boyfriend and his gang/band, all to various musical numbers. Also, there's a Jermaine Jackson/ Pia Zadora music video near the beginning that has no connection to the rest of the plot, and Jackson does not otherwise appear in the movie.

The thing is, Pia Zadora is so adorable that she, alone, is worth the price of admission. She's about 5 feet tall, smokin' hot, and completely committed to her role, as ridiculous as it is. Truth be told, no one in this film phones it in. As bad as the script, acting, and songs are, everyone in the film acts like it is their last, which it probably was for most of them. The songs sound like parodies of other, better, songs, but even they have some charm, and that Jackson/Zadora duet was actually a hit.

If you wonder why you have never heard of this gem, it's because it was never released, at least not in American cinemas. You can watch it streaming now, and you'll like it if you like this sort of thing. It's as goofy and low-rent as “The Velocipastor,” and just as much fun!

3 stars out of 5

Life of Crime (2013) ***

 

Between his westerns and his crime novels, author Elmore Leonard has had his share of books adapted into movies. One of his best adaptations, most would agree, was Quentin Tarantino's 1997 film, “Jackie Brown.” Based on Leonard's novel, Rum Punch, it featured a colorful cast of characters circling around a trove of drug money. Two of those characters were Ordell, played by Samuel L. Jackson, and Louis, played by Robert De Niro.

2013's dark comedy “Life of Crime,” based on Leonard' novel The Switch, features the exploits of those two knuckleheads preceding the events of “Jackie Brown.” It's the late 70's, and Louis and Ordell decide to kidnap rich socialite Mickey Dawson (Jennifer Aniston). They figure on a fat ransom, little knowing that her husband (Tim Robbins) has a mistress (Isla Fisher) and is planning to file for divorce.

This time around, Louis is played by John Hawkes, and Ordell by Yasiin Bey (formerly known as the rapper Mos Def). These guys clearly don't bring the star power of Samuel L. Jackson and Robert De Niro, but they bring their own charm to the roles. Tim Robbins and Isla Fisher are excellent, as is Will Forte as Mickey's milquetoast lover.

Aniston is just alright. She gives the same blankly-staring, flat-affect performance that she always gives. I can never exactly pinpoint a fault in her acting, but as beautiful and stylish as she is in real life, she always fails to light up the screen.

Aniston notwithstanding, it's a great cast, yet “Life of Crime” is not in the same league as “Jackie Brown.” Director Daniel Schecter seems to have trouble finding and maintaining his tone. He also fetishizes period details to a distracting extent. The film is set in 1978, so every car has to be from that year, and every outfit has to be period-perfect. In real life, everyone doesn't just buy everything all in the same year. People have cars and clothes from 5, 10, 15 years ago, all mixed together.

It may be an unfair comparison. Leonard wrote The Switch in 1978 and Rum Punch in 1992, but Hollywood switched the order of things by adapting Rum Punch first, into “Jackie Brown,” which was the kind of classic that revives careers and sticks with you. It's hard to live up to that. Without that legacy to carry, “Life of Crime” could be enjoyed as what it is, a fairly entertaining, darkly funny, popcorn movie.

3 stars out of 5

The Fly (1958) **1/2 and The Fly (1986) ****1/2

I first saw David Cronenberg's remake of “The Fly” when it came out, in 1986. I thought it was pretty great back then, but then, I thought every movie was great then. I was curious how it had aged, and the answer is, “pretty damn well!” I also wondered how it compared to the sci-fi/horror original from 1958, so I watched them back-to-back. 

 

 

The original film, by producer/director Kurt Neumann was based on George Langelaan's short story, which Neumann reportedly discovered in Playboy magazine. (See? Some people DO read the articles!) It tells the story of scientist Andre Delambre (David Hedison), who develops a transportation device. When he attempts to transport himself, a fly gets into the transporter with him, leading to horrible malformations for both of them. Patricia Owens plays Delambre's June-Cleaver-esque wife, Helene, and Vincent Price plays his brother, Francois.

While Neumann elevates “The Fly” above the usual level of B-movies, it is still very much the kind of movie you would have seen at the drive-in, back when that was a thing. The film is very of its time, with its Cold War/Nuclear era theme of science gone wrong, not to mention being a po-faced, back-to-church cautionary tale about what happens when man trespasses on God's territory. The film also has whiplash-inducing changes in tone, going from moments of horror and suspense to scenes that look and sound like an episode of “Leave it to Beaver.” Maybe these clashes were intentional, meant to emphasize the possibility of disaster underlying First World prosperity and domestic bliss. The acting is generally better than B-movie level, and while Patricia Owens never really escaped B-movies, David Hedison went on to a successful film career, including playing CIA agent Felix Leiter in a couple of Bond movies.

I would say the film's best touch is its reversal of chronology. The story starts with Andre's death, with his wife being accused of his murder. This leaves the audience doubly in suspense: wondering how Andre's accident occurred and also what will happen to poor Helene. Neumann also shows restraint with his special effects for most of the film, keeping Andre/Fly covered up most of the time. Unfortunately, that restraint goes off the rails in the film's next-to-last scene. The human-headed fly trapped in a spider's web, with that tiny voice screaming “Help me!” ends the film on such a ridiculous note that it undermines the suspense and horror.

 

 

While the original “The Fly” is a classic in a B-movie kind of way, David Cronenberg's 1986 remake is a true classic. He kept the idea of a teleporter accident, but it is otherwise a very different story. Jeff Goldblum plays scientist Seth Brundle. He meets journalist Veronica Quaife (Geena Davis) and invites her to document his work on teleportation. Same as in the first movie, a fly gets into the teleporter with the scientist, only in this case the merger happens on a genetic level, and Brundle's transformation is gradual.

Making the process gradual allows Cronenberg's film to be a much more effective body-horror tale. Most of us have had nightmares of losing our teeth or hair, so watching the process unfold on Brundle hits close to home. In fact, while many in 1986 understandably saw the film as an AIDS metaphor, Cronenberg has said that he intended it as a more universal allegory of disease in general, or even just the aging process. However you interpret it, the film is an outstanding horror movie that transcends its genre, thanks in part to excellent performances by its 2 stars. Be afraid. Be very afraid!

The Fly (1958) – 2.5 stars out of 5

The Fly (1986) – 4.5 stars out of 5

Hang 'Em High (1968) ***

By 1968, Clint Eastwood had, thanks to his work with Sergio Leone, made the transition from TV star to movie star. “Hang 'Em High” was his chance to cement that position with a role in an American production of the kind of revisionist western with which he and Leone had made such a success. Eastwood plays Jed Cooper, an innocent man hanged by a lynch mob. Surviving the attack, Cooper, who is a former lawman, accepts an offer from Judge Fenton to become a U.S. Marshall. He will help the judge maintain what law and order is possible in the wild Oklahoma territory, and with a badge, he can legally pursue the men who lynched him.

Traditional westerns back in the day featured a good guy in a white hat against a bad guy in a black hat. That overly simplistic description applies, literally or figuratively, to most of the westerns made before the late 1960s. Directors were starting to experiment with more character development and moral ambiguity, but they were limited by the Hays Code, the film industry's self-censorship guidelines. The Code didn't just limit sexual expression in films; it sought to promote respect for law and order and American government. (It also prohibited, among other things, depictions of inter-racial relationships.) Much like the Chinese censors today, the Hays Code significantly limited the themes you could explore in a Hollywood film. McCarthyism and the Red Scare played a role as well. Any depiction of America as less than a shining city on a hill could be interpreted as pro-Commie, which is why a great movie like “High Noon” was maligned in its day. Foreign directors like Sergio Leone and the New Wave auteurs had a considerably freer hand, and American filmmakers increasingly craved that freedom.

By the '60's, directors were flexing more and more against the Code, which, after years of being increasingly water-down or ignored, was finally scrapped in 1968, in favor of a ratings system similar to what is used today. “Hang 'Em High” is a good example of the revisionist westerns that were starting to be made around that time. In these westerns, the hats were, figuratively speaking, more on the gray side. In “Hang 'Em High,” the upstanding citizens who attempt to lynch Cooper believe they are doing what is right, providing justice in a lawless land. Judge Fenton (based on the legendary Judge Parker) sentences a lot of men to be hanged in order to head off just that sort of vigilante justice. He believes that in the large, mostly un-patrolled Oklahoma territory, people will only respect a court that provides swift, severe justice. Anything less, and people will take the law into their own hands. Cooper struggles with some of these hangings, but he ultimately continues as a lawman, feeling that the more present the law can be, the less necessary hangings will be.

That's a lot for a movie to take on, and I won't pretend that “Hang 'Em High” is some sort of profound statement on criminal justice. Much of the film is a pretty typical western, and the romance montage between Eastwood and co-star Inger Stevens is downright sappy. Still, the movie manages to mix legal philosophy with some decent action. It isn't Eastwood's best, but it's worth seeing.

3 stars out of 5

Kimi (2022) ****

 

I clicked on this movie for two reasons. One is that it stars Zoe Kravitz. The other is that the summary sounded eerily similar to a trio of movies from the past: "Blow Up" (1966), "The Conversation" (1974), and "Blow Out" (1981).  Like "Kimi," each of these films features a reclusive technical expert discovering evidence of a crime lurking in some type of media.

First of all, Kimi is not the name of the main character. It is a voice-activated AI assistant, like Siri or Alexa. The fictional Kimi system uses human techs to listen to misunderstood voice commands and continually improve the system's performance. One of those techs is Angela (Kravitz), an obsessive-compulsive agoraphobe. The Covid pandemic has just reinforced Angela's stay-at-home/work-from-home tendencies, and she never ventures out of her apartment. The closest she comes to the outside world is watching her neighbors through the windows. One of these is Terry, a quiet, kind guy who occasionally crosses the street to give Angela a roll in the hay, and who is getting frustrated at her inability to overcome her neuroses. Safe in her nest, Angela plies her trade until some disturbing background sounds in one of her Kimi snippets plunges her into a deadly conspiracy.

In addition to the similarities to the movies mentioned above, “Kimi” has been compared to Hitchcock's “Rear Window.” It's fair to say that the film is not a complete original, but it does update the concepts for the Covid/internet era. The film at least touches on the myriad arguments around always-on, voice-activated devices. Clearly, they create privacy risks, and the film mentions that they can be hacked. On the other hand, the crime in this case would not have been discovered without the use of Kimi. Angela also uses Kimi to good effect in fighting back against her attackers. Speaking of which, we knew that Zoe Kravitz is a stone fox and a crackin' actress, but who would have guessed that she is also an action hero?

I want to give some credit to screenwriter David Koepp (“Jurassic Park” “Panic Room”). The characters don't always make the best decisions, but they at least make decisions that make sense for their character. This separates “Kimi” from so many lazily-written films in which the script just has the characters perform whatever nonsensical action is required to move the plot forward. “Kimi” is a tightly-crafted thriller with an excellent lead actress, that comes in at under an hour and a half. Tell Alexa or Siri to play it for you now!

4 stars out of 5

Licorice Pizza (2021) **1/2

 

It had been a while since we had a rambling, talky movie from director Paul Thomas Anderson. His last feature came out in 2017, so I guess we were due. In the interim, Anderson made a bunch of music videos for the band Haim, which is how he wound up casting Alana Haim in his latest, “Licorice Pizza.”

Haim plays Alana Kane, a 25-year-old photographer's assistant. Helping with a yearbook shoot, she meets 15-year-old Gary Valentine (Cooper Hoffman), a confident, charismatic child actor. The cheeky teen asks Alana out, and, out of curiosity, she agrees to dinner. They become friends, then business partners, and eventually a mutual attraction blooms. The film has faced some criticism over this May-December romance, but, to be fair, Alana acknowledges the creepiness of the relationship, and it's worth noting that the two do not have sex.

What happens here is that “Licorice Pizza” fools you. The film looks like it will be a coming-of-age tale about a 15-year-old boy, but it turns out to be a coming-of-age tale about a 25-year-old woman. The story is about Alana and her frustrated attempts to enter the adult world. Her photographer employer sexually harasses her by patting her butt. Her dad treats her like a child, quizzing her about her whereabouts when she comes home late. Every time she opens the door to adulthood, she sees people behaving badly, as exemplified by a show-off actor (Sean Penn) and a psychopathic film producer (Bradley Cooper). Compared to these assholes, the open-hearted Gary starts to look like a safer bet.

Alana Haim, in her first feature, pretty much carries the film on her narrow shoulders. She has this interesting, beautiful, hook-nosed face, and the singer turns out to be a decent actress. Some of the supporting stars, including Bradley Cooper and Sean Penn, provide moments of brilliance. Otherwise, though, the movie drags through its 2 hour 13 minute run-time. This is the film debut for Cooper Hoffman, son of the late Philip Seymour, and his performance is uneven, showing only brief glimmers of his father's talent. The story also just drags and seems pointless at times, veering off into a number of narrative dead-ends. Truth is, this is a recurring feature of Paul Thomas Anderson's films. Many of them have some great moments, but the only one I would re-watch is "Boogie Nights." I would recommend “Licorice Pizza” only for cinephiles who don't mind wading through a lot of filler to enjoy the latest, and certainly not the greatest, by a brilliant, but self-indulgent, director.

As for that title, it has absolutely nothing to do with the movie. Yet another self-indulgence, Licorice Pizza was the name of a record store Paul Thomas Anderson used to frequent back in the '70's, even though the store does not appear in the movie. It's kind of like the Who song “Baba O'Reilly.” (70's music fans will know what I mean.)

2.5 stars out of 5

Nightmare Alley (2021) ***1/2

 

William Lindsay Gresham's 1946 novel “Nightmare Alley” has already been adapted to film, in 1947. The newest iteration, however, features Guillermo del Toro's magical, weird touch.

Bradley Cooper plays Stanton Carlisle, a drifter with a dark secret. Stan falls in with a depression-era carnival, where he meets Clem (Willem Dafoe), who runs the geek show; Zeena (Toni Collette), a sexy tarot reader; and Molly (Rooney Mara), a sweet, young performer with whom Stan falls in love. Stan also gets to know Pete (David Strathairn), an alcoholic mentalist. Pete teaches Stan his system for “mind reading,” and Stan and Molly leave the carnival to create their own mentalist act. They have a successful show until they meet a skeptical psychologist (Cate Blanchett), who introduces Stan to some wealthy, powerful clients and elevates his grifting ambitions.

Do things go well for Stan? Well, by definition, in a noir film, things don't turn out well for the protagonist. If they did, they would call it Film Blanc, now wouldn't they?

Guillermo del Toro is mostly known for fantastical works like "Hellboy" and "Pan's Labyrinth."  It is fascinating to see him lend his sense of the macabre to something with no true supernatural elements. (Stan does pretend to channel spirits, but it is always clear that it is a scam.) Del Toro manages to make the simple offer of a drink menacing, and he makes a skinny, blond woman (Blanchett) a terrifying villain.

“Nightmare Alley” is a good film, but it is not great, and I was thinking, afterwards, about why. Partly, it's long. The bigger issue, though, is that in the great noir films, there is always someone to serve as a stand-in for the audience; someone who retains a shred of decency to stand next to us and hold our hand as we observe the sorry state of humanity. Many films have a detective, like Sam Spade or Philip Marlowe. “Double Indemnity” had the insurance investigator. "The Third Man" had Holly Martins. These character don't have to be perfect, just sympathetic enough to stand in for us as we watch dark people do darker things. In “Nightmare Alley,” Molly is sympathetic enough, and she has a moral compass, but she isn't central enough to the story. Stan is, by far, the main character, and he is far from sympathetic. It isn't a fatal flaw, and I would still recommend the film, but between the despicable characters, the disturbing imagery of fetuses in jars and such, and the film's length, this is one that I probably won't watch a second time.

3.5 stars out of 5

True Romance (1993) *****

 

When the subject of favorite movies in different genres comes up, I always say that my favorite romantic comedy is “True Romance.” True, the movie isn't usually listed in this genre, but it is hilarious and truly romantic. The main characters even meet in a cute manner. This isn't some frothy, Jennifer Lopez rom-com, however. It's a cool-ass crime film written by Quentin Tarantino and directed by Tony Scott ("Top Gun"), and one of the best movies ever!

Christian Slater plays Clarence Worley, a comic-store clerk who loves Elvis Presley and spends his birthdays watching kung-fu movies by himself. When he meets Alabama (Patricia Arquette), they fall in love the first night. Clarence isn't bothered when he learns that Alabama is/was a call-girl, but it does gnaw at him that she had a pimp. When he confronts the pimp (Gary Oldman), Clarence winds up with a suitcase full of un-cut cocaine. Hoping to sell the coke and start a new life together, he and Alabama head to Hollywood, with the Mafia hot on their trail.

It's rare that a movie is perfect, or at least that its charm shines so brightly that it blinds you to any flaws. “True Romance” is a perfect movie to me, and it has remained so over many years and many viewings. Every scene crackles with the funny, realistic dialogue that made Tarantino famous. Even in the small parts, the supporting cast is simply amazing, including Oldman, Samuel L. Jackson, James Gandolfini, Dennis Hopper, Christopher Walken, Val Kilmer, Brad Pitt, Bronson Pinchot, Chris Penn, and the list goes on. I hate to single out any one performance, as there are no throwaway roles here, but Saul Rubinek is particularly entertaining as an egotistical movie producer. Patricia Arquette's southern accent leaves something to be desired, but she is so adorable that it is easy to overlook that. Her voice-over narration at the beginning and end of the film is an artistic choice that I might not have made, either, but then the whole movie is just so charming that that narration is like the mole on Cindy Crawford's cheek, it's a flaw that merely adds to the beauty.

Clarence is one of the truly great literary characters. When we first meet him, he is a lonely guy working in a comics store, seemingly waiting for his life to begin. It turns out he was just a lock waiting for a key. With Alabama, his world expands, and his potential energy is made kinetic. He is charming and open, yet capable of decisive action, and did I mention that Elvis talks to him in the bathroom? Clarence and Alabama are a couple of innocents in a dark forest. Surrounded by danger, they make it through because of their big hearts and because they hold on to each other, and that, my friend, is True Romance!

5 stars out of 5