Welcome to Late Night Retro Television Reviews, a feature where we review some of our favorite and least favorite shows of the past! On Wednesdays, I will be reviewing Monsters, which aired in syndication from 1988 to 1991. The entire series is streaming on YouTube.
This week, we have an episode directed by Tom Noonan and starring Ed Lauter! Come discover what’s eating Malcolm….
Episode 3.13 “Malcolm”
(Dir by Tom Noonan, originally aired on December 23rd, 1990)
When he was younger, Malcolm (Ed Lauter) was a romantic who played the clarinet. Now, he’s just a boring old businessman. When his wife (Carole Shelley) asks him to play the clarinet again, he collapses in pain. Their doctor (Farley Granger) discovers that Malcolm has what appears to be a tumor in his stomach. Of course, the glowing tumor is actually alive. It’s a weird, giant worm that gives Malcolm his musical talent. The worm is removed but now, Malcolm has lost his talent. One night, the worm shows up again….
This was an odd and moody episode, which I guess is not surprising as it was directed by Tom Noonan, a director and actor who specializes in the odd and moody. Moving at its own deliberate pace, the episode benefitted from a good performance from Ed Lauter, a good deal of atmosphere, and some Cronenbergian body horror. The worm was obviously a stand-in for the self-destructive nature of many artists. The worm gives Malcolm his talent but it also has the potential to eat him from the inside. When the worm returns, Malcolm makes his decision and the whole thing plays out like a moody nightmare.
In other words, this was a good episode, one that was willing to be both surreal and a bit grotesque. Tom Noonan and Ed Lauter made for an excellent combination.
Episode 14 begins with one of Rufe Ryker’s men, Ed Bain, cutting barbed wire fence on the Starett ranch so their herd of cattle can go to a watering hole. As he’s cutting the fence, the sounds of gunshots from a “Big 50” rifle ring out as he’s shot and falls over. Shane (David Carradine) and Joey (Christopher Shea), who are riding through the area, hear the shots and find the wounded man. He rushes him to Sam Grafton’s saloon to see if Sam (Sam Gilman) can do anything to save him. Unfortunately the man was shot in the gut and there is no hope. About the time he dies, Rufe Ryker (Bert Freed) and his men come into the bar. He immediately asks Shane why he killed him. Shane, picking the wrong time to be a smartass, tells Ryker that if he had killed him it would have been for his cutting their fence, but that he didn’t do it. Ryker doesn’t believe him and neither do his men. They decide that Ed Bain deserves justice because “he was not only a good hand, but he was a good man.” Out for blood, Ryker decides he’s going to put Shane on trial for murder right then and there with only his men as the witnesses and jury. I call this the “Saint Bain” portion of the story. Harve (Lawrence Mann) tells us what a brave and hardworking man Bain was. Bain’s best friend Greevey (a guest starring Wayne Rogers) tells about all of their good times and card playing together. It seems that Bain is such a good guy that Shane clearly deserves to die even though none of them actually saw him shoot the man.
While the sham of the trial is going, the saloonkeeper Ben (Owen Bush) slips out the back and rides out to the Starett ranch to tell Tom (Tom Tully) and Marian (Jill Ireland) what’s going on. The two immediately set about trying to round up some of the homesteaders to go into town with them to try to stop Ryker and his men from hanging Shane. One by one, each of the homesteaders turn them down because “this is not their fight” and reason that Shane probably did it because “he’s a gunfighter.” Knowing they have zero chance against Ryker on their own, Tom and Marian come up with a plan. He’ll head to Laramie to get the U.S. Marshall, and she’ll go try to buy some time from Ryker with the only bargaining chip they have, the deed to the family ranch.
Episode 14 of Shane is a bit of a mixed bag. On the positive side, the gun that is used to kill Ed Bain at the beginning is a unique and interesting element of the story. The weapon is a Sharps “Big 50,” a .50 caliber rifle that was designed for buffalo hunting and introduced in 1872 by the Sharps Rifle Manufacturing Company. The Big 50 joins a tradition of powerful weapons in filmed entertainment that provide their users with an advantage over their adversaries. Other examples include the Winchester 73 rifle, Dirty Harry’s 44 Magnum and Paul Kersey’s 357 Wildey Magnum in DEATH WISH 3. At one point, the killer is firing the Big 50 into the Starett cabin at Shane, Marian and Joey. Based on the power of the gun as already shown, there is a real sense of danger that someone could be seriously hurt. There was also one good scene centered around the unspoken love between Shane and Marian, even if Shane wasn’t a part of it. With Shane’s life seriously in jeopardy, Tom reassures his daughter-in-law, “honey, you’ve only been in love with 2 men in your whole life. I’m gonna make sure you don’t lose them both.” She sure doesn’t protest. It was a sweet scene and I enjoyed that as well.
On the negative side, episode 14 featured the most lazy storytelling thus far in the series. The series has gone to great lengths to show Rufe Ryker as a man who’s hard-as-nails, but also mostly reasonable. The writers throw that out the window in this storyline and require him to behave completely irrational in his quest for vengeance for his hired man. It would be one thing if Ed Bain was his son or something, but Ryker’s line about him being a “good man” doesn’t get close to explaining the turnaround in his behavior. And not only do they present him as irrational, they make him incompetent to boot. Joey rides up and convinces Ryker that he’s only there to take Shane some food. Ryker even checks his slicker for a gun before letting him go in. Turns out Joey did have a gun under his jacket and Ryker just didn’t find it. The show had seemed to really be hitting its stride before this episode and the lazy storytelling surprised me. They should have introduced a new character if they were going to make him so irrational and incompetent. That description just doesn’t fit the Ryker of the first 13 episodes.
Overall, this may have been the least enjoyable episode so far. While it did have some good moments, I’m still struggling to let go of the way they changed Ryker’s character so completely for this one. We’ll see what happens with him over the last few episodes of the series. While I’m slightly disappointed with episode 14, I’m still looking forward to seeing what happens next.
In 1985’s Runaway Train, Eric Roberts plays Buck McGeehy, a prisoner at Stonehaven Maximum Security Prison in Alaska.
Like the majority of the prisoners, Buck looks up to Manny (Jon Voight), a bank robber who has just been released from spending three years in solitary confinement. Manny is a tough guy who refuses to allow the prison system to beat him down. Warden Ranken (John P. Ryan) views Manny as being a threat to his authority and he’s especially angry that it was the courts that ordered that Manny finally be released from solitary. When Ranken tries to arrange for Manny to be assassinated at a prison boxing match, it’s Buck who saves Manny’s life. When Manny later manages to escape from the prison, Buck tags along.
Manny and Buck are a study in contrasts. Manny is as cold as the Alaskan landscape. He’s ruthless and doesn’t allow himself to get too close to anyone but, at the same time, he does live by a definite code. Buck is simple-minded, an earnest guy who talks too much and who probably wouldn’t have survived a day in prison if it wasn’t for his skill as a boxer. Buck and Manny manage to make their way across the frozen wilderness but, when they hop on a train, they soon find themselves trapped on the out-of-control locomotive, along with a railroad engineer named Sara (Rebecca De Mornay). The three of them have to find a way to either escape from or stop the train. At the same time, the obsessed Warden Ranken is determined to recapture Manny and, if that means flying a helicopter over the train so that Ranken can lower himself onto it, so be it.
Runway Train, which was based on a script by Akira Kurosawa, was one of the few Cannon films to find success with not just critics but also audiences and the industry. The Golden Globes nominated it for Best Film. The Academy didn’t go quite that far but they did nominate the film for Best Editing, along with also nominating Jon Voight for Best Actor and Eric Roberts for Best Supporting Actor. While Voight is a multiple-Oscar nominee (and one-time winner for Coming Home), Runaway Train is, so far, the only film for which Eric Roberts has been nominated. (He should have been nominated for Star 80 but his character in that film was a bit too realistically sleazy for the Academy to honor.) Roberts has described Runaway Train as being one of his favorite films and he even used the title for his autobiography. It was on this film that he met Danny Trejo, who not only trained Roberts for the boxing scenes but also helped Roberts kick his addiction to cocaine.
And Roberts has every reason to be proud. Runaway Train is a fast-moving, visually stunning thrill ride, a masterpiece of the pulp imagination. Yes, the symbolism of the runaway train is a bit obvious. Yes, the philosophical edge of the film’s dialogue can sometimes feel a bit out-of-place. Who cares? John Voight and Eric Roberts sell their characters with such skill that you don’t care that they’re both criminals who have done terrible things. From the minute we see that frozen jail and the prisoners tossing burning pieces of paper at the guards, we know why both Manny and Buck have to escape. John P. Ryan turns the warden into everyone’s worst nightmare of a small, pretty man with power, an authoritarian who uses the system to control the lives of others and who resents anyone who does not bow down before him. Even though her role is largely limited to reacting to what everyone else does around her, Rebecca de Mornay still turns Sara into a compelling character and never allows her to become merely a damsel in distress. Runaway Train is a heart-pounding action film and one that still holds up today.
Previous Eric Roberts Films That We Have Reviewed:
Mitch Taylor (Gabriel Jarrett) is a teenage genius who is recruited by Prof. Jerry Hathaway (William Atherton) to study at Pacific Tech University. The real reason why Hathaway has recruited Mitch is because Chris Knight (Val Kilmer), another genius, has been slacking on developing the power source for an experimental laser called “crossbow.” Hathaway hopes that Mitch can get Chris to take his work seriously and to focus on the project. Instead, Chris teaches Mitch that he has to learn how to enjoy life or his great intelligence will become a burden and he’ll end up burned out and living in the tunnel underneath the university. That’s what happened to Laszlo Holyfield (Jon Gries). That’s what nearly happened to Chris. Chris is determined not to let it happen to Mitch.
Real Genius combines college hijinks with a serious examination of the pressures of being a “real genius.” Mitch knows everything about laser physics but he still misses his parents and cries after getting yelled at by Prof. Hathaway. He’s just a kid, no matter how smart he is. Chris proves himself to be a good friend, encouraging Mitch to relax and enjoy life. Just because you’re a genius doesn’t mean that you can’t have fun. As played by Val Kilmer, Chris Knight is the best friend that everyone wishes they could have, whether they’re a genius or not. Even when the film gets sophomoric, Kilmer plays his role seriously and never loses sight of Chris’s humanity or why it’s so important to Chris that Mitch not become consumed by the pressure of being smarter than almost everyone else in the room. This is one of the early Val Kilmer performances that showed just how good an actor he truly was. With Chris’s encouragement, Mitch pursues a romance with Jordan Cochran (Michelle Meyrink) and gets revenge (more than once) on the arrogant Kent (Robert Prescott).
Eventually, Chris and Mitch realize that their research is being used to construct a weapon for the CIA and this leads to the film’s famous ending. Ever since this movie came out, there’s been a debate over whether or not a laser could be used to make popcorn and, even more importantly, whether or not a gigantic amount of popcorn could actually destroy someone’s house. I don’t know the answers to those questions but I’d like to think that Real Genius got it right and I have no interest in any evidence that suggests otherwise. Sometimes, you owe it yourself to believe in the power of lasers and popcorn. The next person who takes advantage of your hard work, destroy his house with popcorn and then sing Everybody Wants To Rule The World. Learn the lessons of Real Genius.
Finally, when I was growing up, Real Genius was one of those films that seemed to be on HBO all the time. Somehow, I always turned it on right when the popcorn started popping. That popcorn-filled house, followed by Everybody Want To Rule The World, was a huge part of my childhood. Real Genius will always bring back good memories for me.
Welcome to Retro Television Reviews, a feature where we review some of our favorite and least favorite shows of the past! On Wednesdays, I will be reviewing the original Love Boat, which aired on ABC from 1977 to 1986! The series can be streamed on Paramount Plus!
This week, a special two-hour Love Boat sets sail for Alaska and adventure!
Episode 5.22 and 5.23 “Pride of the Pacific/The Viking’s Son/Separate Vacations/The Experiment/Getting to Know You”
(Dir by Roger Duchowny, Originally aired on March 6th, 1982)
The Pacific Princess is sailing to Alaska!
The Sea Princess, commanded by the strict and haughty Gunner Nordquist (Ted Knight), is also sailing to Alaska. Steve Bloom (Sonny Bono) of the Cruise Ship Association has arranged for a series competitions between the crews of the two ships. At each stop, the rival crews will compete in races, tree-sawing, tug-of-war, and wrestling. The crew that wins the most competitions will receive a trophy. All of the passengers are really excited about it, though I’m not sure why. I would not want to spend my vacation watching a bunch of strangers take part in a competition that has nothing to do with me.
Gunner is determined to win. Stubing is determined to have fun. Or, at least, he is until his crew is absolutely humiliated during the second competition. When he learns that Gunner has brought in a bunch of ringers, Stubing becomes determined to win at all costs. Only the tears of Vicki can reveal to Stubing that he’s becoming a monster. Stubing realizes that he’s been pushing too hard and he apologizes to his crew. At the final stop, Stubing suggests a dog sled race between him and Gunner. Gunner agrees. Steve Bloom says it’s okay. The crowd is excited for some reason. In the end, Gunner wins the dog sled race and the competition but only because Stubing kindly refuses to take advantage of an accident that occurs during the race. Gunner announces that the trophy properly belongs to Stubing and his crew. Gunner also says that it’s okay if his son (Woody Brown) wants to become a cruise director instead of a navigator. I’m glad that all worked out….
Actually, this whole storyline made no sense to me. Beyond the fact that the passengers were oddly excited about the whole thing, I really didn’t see the point of making the members of the crew compete in stuff like tug-of-war and wrestling. Wouldn’t it have made more sense to compete to see who could be the first to reach the next port? I appreciated that at least some of this episode was shot on location. The Alaskan scenery was lovely but the whole competition storyline was just weird.
There were other storylines, of course. A couple played Charles Nelson Reilly and Charlotte Rae spent the entire cruise in their cabin, getting to know each other because they fell in love at first sight and they wanted to make sure they can handle marriage. (I can think of one big reason why Charlotte Rae marrying Charles Nelson Reilly might not work out but, this being The Love Boat, it never comes up.) Two Harvard researchers (John James and Mary Crosby) tried to come up with a pill that would make shy Dave (Douglas Barr) irresistible to women. Both of those stories were pretty boring. John James was handsome so the show had that going for it.
Slightly more interesting was the story of Harry Meacham (Tom Bosley) and his wife, Dorothy (Michele Lee). As they’re in the process of divorcing, Harry sails on The Sea Princess while Dorothy board the Pacific Princess. Of course, Doc makes his move as soon he realizes the Dorothy will soon be single. While Dorothy has a chaste fling Doc, Harry has a chaste fling with massage therapist Britta (Priscilla Barnes). Eventually, Harry and Dorothy realize they still love each other. Awwww! Yay! This story was sweet.
Otherwise, this was not the most memorable cruise to Alaska that the Love Boat has ever taken. Next week, let’s hope for no musicals and no athletic competitions. Come on, Love Boat, we all know why we’re here!
1954’s Dragnet opens with a gangland slaying. We watch as a man is brutally gunned down in a field in Los Angeles. The rest of the film deals with the efforts of the LAPD to track down and arrest the killers.
Based on the televisions show that gave birth to the whole “cop show” format, Dragnet features Jack Webb as Sgt. Joe Friday, calmly and efficiently investigating the slaying. Working with Friday is Officer Frank Smith (Ben Alexander) but the film (just like the show) is ultimately about how the whole criminal justice system works together as a machine designed to protect the citizenry and to punish crime.
Or, at least, that’s the way it’s supposed to work. Especially if you’re only familiar with Dragnet from its late 60s incarnation and the countless parodies that followed, the 1954 Dragnet can seem surprisingly cynical and rough-edged. The killings are violent, the criminals are ruthless, and the cops are often frustrated in their attempts to solve crimes. In this film, at least, justice is not guaranteed.
The shooting victim is identified as a low-level gangster named Miller Starkie and Friday and Smith immediately suspect that he was killed on the orders of West Coast mob boss Max Troy (Stacy Harris). Friday and Smith know that Troy is guilty and they even figure out who worked with Troy to kill Starkie. But, throughout the film, they struggle to get any sort of concrete evidence tying Max to the crime. Dragnet is a police procedural that follows every bit of the investigation, including the attempts to convince a grand jury to indict Max. One of the more interesting moments in the film is when Friday gives his grand jury testimony and it becomes obvious that the district attorney was right to be skeptical about trying to bring charges. Friday really doesn’t have enough evidence to justify arresting Max for the crime that everyone knows he committed. To the film’s credit, it doesn’t attack the grand jury system or suggest that the system is unfairly rigged for the criminals. Friday may be frustrated but he understands that the system has to protect the rights accused first. One has to be presumed innocent until proven guilty even when everyone knows that person is guilty.
That said, Friday and Smith and the entire LAPD end up harassing Max Troy in a way that would probably not fly if the film were made today. At one point, a line of police cars park in front of Max’s house and then all shine their lights into his windows. Friday and Smith end up following Max everywhere that they he goes, stopping him and randomly frisking him before ordering him to empty his pockets. Today, I imagine this would lead to lawsuit. Even in the film, it doesn’t exactly pay off.
What does pay off is sending a police woman (played by Ann Robinson) into Max’s nightclub undercover, with a recording device. This whole sequence is interesting because it’s apparent that the idea of a tiny recording devices — something that we take for granted nowadays — was apparently a new and exciting concept in 1954. (Indeed, the one used in this film actually looks a bit bulky.) For a few minutes, the action stops so Dragnet can show off the LAPD’s latest toy.
I liked Dragnet. It’s an nicely-paced time capsule and, despite its docudrama style and television origins, director Jack Webb manages to come up with a few memorable visuals. As someone who has binged the late 60s version of Dragnet, it was interesting to see a tougher and much more cynical version of the series. While Webb was hardly an expressive actor, his dour demeanor serves him well as Joe Friday and Stacy Harris is appropriately sleazy as the crime boss. Despite all of Friday’s frustrations, the case eventually comes to a conclusion in the 1954 film, even if it’s not the one that Friday and his bosses wanted. Max may be able to escape the police but he can’t escape his own health. Friday and Smith move on to investigate the next case. As always, the names will be changed to protect the innocent.
Today’s scene that I love comes from a 1968 episode of the iconic cop show, Dragnet. A group of hippies want to leave the United States and start their own country. Joe Friday (Jack Webb) and Bill Gannon (Harry Morgan) set them straight!
It’s always kind of easy to laugh a little at these episodes of Dragnet because it’s obvious that Webb had never actually met or dealt with any real hippies. But I don’t know. This episode, entitled The Big Departure, and this speech still feels relevant, even if I doubt it actually changed the mind of anyone planning on starting their own nation.
Webb appeared in a handful of films but he’s probably best remembered for developing, directing, and starring in America’s first cop show, Dragnet. As Sgt. Joe Friday, Webb dealt with crimes both big and small. In the late 60s, he dealt with hippies and other anti-American forces. A few years ago, I binged the 60s version of Dragnet and I have to admit I got totally addicted to it. It was somehow both effective and totally camp at the same time. That takes skill!
Webb is the narrator of today’s Blast From The Past. 1961’s A Force In Readiness is a 30-minute short film about the Marines. Seen today, it seems like a lengthy commercial but, when it was first released, the director was awarded a special Oscar “for his outstanding patriotic service in the conception, writing and production of the Marine Corps film, A Force in Readiness, which has brought honor to the Academy and the motion picture industry.”
Webb provides the narration in his trademark style. If the Greatest Generation could all speak in one voice, that voice would probably sound a lot like Jack Webb’s.
That can be a dangerous thing to admit, about both the band and Oliver Stone’s 1991 film. Yes, both the band and the film could be a bit pretentious. They both tended to go on for a bit longer than necessary. They were both centered around a guy who wrote the type of poetry that I used to love back in my emo days. It’s all true.
But, with The Doors as a band, I find that I can’t stop listening to them once I start. Even if I might roll my eyes at some of the lyrics or if I might privately question whether any blues song really needs an organ solo, I can’t help but love the band. They had a sound that was uniquely their own, a psychedelic carnival that brought to mind images of people dancing joyfully while the world burned around them. And say what you will about Jim Morrison as a poet or even a thinker, he had a good voice. He had the perfect voice for The Doors and their rather portentous style. From the clips that I’ve seen of him performing, Morrison definitely had a stage presence. Morrison died young. He was only 27 and, in the popular imagination, he will always look like he’s 27. Unlike his contemporaries who managed to survive the 60s, Morrison will always eternally be long-haired and full of life.
As for The Doors as a movie, it’s definitely an Oliver Stone film. It’s big. It’s colorful. It’s deliberately messy. Moments of genuinely clever filmmaking and breath-taking visuals are mixed with scenes that are so heavy-handed that you’ll be inspired to roll your eyes as dramatically as you’ve ever rolled them. Stone loved the music and that love comes through in every performance scene. Stone also loves using Native Americans as symbols and that can feel a bit cringey at times. Why would Jim Morrison, whose was of Scottish and Irish ancestry, even have a Native American spirit guide? At its best The Doors captures the chaos of a world that it’s the middle of being rebuilt. The 60s were a turbulent time and The Doors is a turbulent movie. I’ve read many reviews that criticized The Doors for the scene in which Morrison gets involved in a black magic ceremony with a journalist played by Kathleen Quinlan. I have no idea whether or not that scene happened in real life but the movie is so full of energy and wild imagery that the scene feels like it belongs, regardless of whether it’s true or not. Stone turns Jim Morrison into the warrior-artist-priest that Morrison apparently believed himself to be and the fact that the film actually succeeds has far more to do with Oliver Stone’s enthusiastic, no-holds-barred direction and Val Kilmer’s charismatic lead performance than it does with Jim Morrison himself.
The Doors spent several years in development and there were several actors who, at one time or another, wanted to play Morrison. Everyone from Tom Cruise to John Travolta to Richard Gere to Bono was considered for the role. (Bono as Jim Morrison, what fresh Hell would that have been?) Ultimately, Oliver Stone went with Val Kilmer for the role and Kilmer gives a larger-than-life performance as Morrison, capturing the charisma of a rock star but also the troubled and self-destructive soul of someone convinced that he was destined to die young. Kilmer has so much charisma that you’re willing to put up with all the talk about opening the doors of perception and achieving a higher consciousness. Kilmer was also smart enough to find the little moments to let the viewer know that Morrison, for all of his flamboyance, was ultimately a human being. When Kilmer-as-Morrison winks while singing one particularly portentous lyric, it’s a moment of self-awareness that the film very much needs.
(When the news of Kilmer’s death was announced last night, many people online immediately started talking about Tombstone, Top Gun, and Top Secret. For his part, Kilmer often said he was proudest of his performance as Jim Morrison.)
In the end, The Doors is less about the reality of the 60s and Jim Morrison and more about the way that we like to imagine the 60s and Jim Morrison as being. It’s a nonstop carnival, full of familiar faces like Kyle MacLachlan, Michael Madsen, Crispin Glover (as Andy Warhol), Frank Whaley, Kevin Dillon, and a seriously miscast Meg Ryan. It’s a big and sprawling film, one that is sometimes a bit too big for its own good but which is held together by both Stone’s shameless visuals and Val Kilmer’s charisma. If you didn’t like the band before you watched this movie, you probably still won’t like them. But, much like the band itself, The Doors is hard to ignore.
Though the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences claim that the Oscars honor the best of the year, we all know that there are always worthy films and performances that end up getting overlooked. Sometimes, it’s because the competition too fierce. Sometimes, it’s because the film itself was too controversial. Often, it’s just a case of a film’s quality not being fully recognized until years after its initial released. This series of reviews takes a look at the films and performances that should have been nominated but were, for whatever reason, overlooked. These are the Unnominated.
I have come around on Tombstone.
The first time I watched this 1993 film, I was a bit confused as to why so many of my friends (especially my male friends) worshipped the film. To me, it was a bit too messy for its own good, an overlong film that told a familiar story and which featured so many characters that it was difficult for me to keep track of them all. Perhaps because everyone I knew loved the film so much, I felt the need to play contrarian and pick out every flaw I could find.
And I still think those flaws are there. The film had a troubled production, with original director Kevin Jarre falling behind in shooting and getting replaced by George Pan Cosmatos, a director who didn’t have any real interest in the material and whose all-business approach rubbed many members of the cast the wrong way. Kurt Russell took over production of the film, directing the actors and reportedly paring down the sprawling script to emphasize the relationship between Russell’s Wyatt Earp and Val Kilmer’s Doc Holliday. On the one hand, this led to a lot of characters who really didn’t seem to have much to do in the finished film. Jason Priestley’s bookish deputy comes to mind. On the other hand, Russell was right.
The film’s heart really is found in the friendship between Wyatt and Doc. It doesn’t matter that, in real life, Wyatt Earp was hardly as upstanding as portrayed by Kurt Russell. It also doesn’t matter that the real-life Doc Holliday was perhaps not as poetic as portrayed by Val Kilmer. Today, if you ask someone to picture Wyatt Earp, they’re probably going to picture Kurt Russell with a mustache, a cowboy hat, and a rifle. And if you ask them to picture Doc Holliday, they’re going to picture Val Kilmer, sweating due to tuberculosis but still managing to enjoy life. Did Doc Holliday every say, “I’ll be your huckleberry,” before gunning someone down? He might as well have. That’s how he’s remembered in the popular imagination. And it’s due to the performances of Russell and Kilmer that I’ve come around to eventually liking this big and flawed western. With each subsequent viewing, I’ve come to appreciate how Russell and Kilmer managed to create fully realized characters while still remaining true to the Western genre. If Wyatt Earp initially fought for the law, Doc Holliday fought for friendship. Kilmer is not only believable as a confident gunslinger who has no fear of walking into a dangerous situation. He’s also believable as someone who puts his personal loyalty above all else. He’s the type of friend that everyone would want to have.
That said, I do have to mention that there are a lot of talented people in the cast, many of whom are no longer with us but who will live forever as a result their appearance here. When Powers Boothe delivered the line, “Well …. bye,” he had no way of knowing that he would eventually become a meme. Boothe is no longer with us, I’m sad to say. But he’ll live forever as long as people need a pithy way to respond to someone announcing that they’re leaving social media forever. Charlton Heston appears briefly as a rancher and he links this 90s western with the westerns of the past. Robert Mitchum provides the narration and it just feels right. The large ensemble cast can be difficult to keep track of and even a little distracting but there’s no way I can’t appreciate a film that manages to bring together not just Russell, Kilmer, Boothe, Heston, and Mitchum but also Sam Elliott, Bill Paxton, Michael Biehn, Michael Rooker, Billy Bob Thornton, Frank Stallone, Terry O’Quinn, and even Billy Zane! The female roles are a bit underwritten. Dana Delaney is miscast but Joanna Pacula feels exactly right as Doc Holliday’s lover.
But ultimately, this film really does belong to Val Kilmer. When I heard the sad news that he had passed away last night, I thought of two films. I thought of Top Gun and then I thought of Tombstone. Iceman probably wouldn’t have had much use for Doc Holliday. And Doc Holliday would have resented Iceman’s attitude. But Val Kilmer — that brilliant actor who was so underappreciated until he fell ill — brought both of them to brilliant life. In the documentary Val, Kilmer attends a showing of Tombstone and you can say he much he loves the sound of audience cheering whenever Doc Holliday showed up onscreen.
Tombstone was a flawed film and 1993 was a strong year. But it’s a shame that Val Kilmer was never once nominated for an Oscar. Tombstone may not have been a Best Picture contender but, in a year when Tommy Lee Jones won the Oscar for Best Supporting Actor for his role in the similarly flawed The Fugitive, it seems a shame that Kilmer’s Doc Holliday was overlooked.
Tombstone (1993, dir by George Pan Cosmatos (and Kurt Russell), DP: William Fraker)
Through the Shattered Lens 