Bob Elliott | Through the Shattered Lens

And then there’s 1990’s Quick Change:

Of the many films that have been made about people desperately trying to get the Hell out of New York City, Quick Change is one of the funniest. The appropriately-named Grimm (Bill Murray) works in the city planning office and has had all that he can take of New York’s crime and rudeness. His solution is to dress up like a clown and rob a bank. His girlfriend Phyllis (Geena Davis) and best friend Loomis (Randy Quaid) are already inside the bank, disguised as customers. When Grimm, who claims to be a “crying on the inside” type of clown, takes everyone in the bank hostage and forces them into the vault, Phyllis and Loomis grab as much of the money as they can. Talking on the phone to police chief Rotzinger (Jason Robards), Grimm makes a series of pointless demands. Each demand that is met leads to Grimm releasing a group of hostages. By removing his clown makeup, Grimm is able to join Phyllis and Loomis when they are “released.” Rotzinger, who has even managed to procure a monster truck, thinks that the robber is still in the bank while Grimm, Phyllis, and Logan head for the airport.

Of course, things don’t go as planned. What starts out as a energetic and good-natured Dog Day Afternoon parody quickly becomes an increasingly surreal journey through New York. The streets are in terrible condition. The signs that would have provided directions to the airport have been taken down by a road construction crew. (They explain that they’re only taking down the signs today and it will be a few days before they get around to putting them back up.) One of the few polite people they meet turns out to be a thief who steals four dollars from Grimm’s wallet but fails to notice that he’s got a million dollars taped around his waist. Stanley Tucci shows up as a mobster. Tony Shalhoub plays a well-meaning taxi driver who speaks his own indecipherable language. Grimm keeps running into rude cops who, despite being on the hunt for the bank robbers, are frequently too busy being rude to notice what’s happening in front of them.

Best of all, Grimm, Phyllis, and the increasingly addled Loomis board a bus being driven by the film’s greatest character. Played by Philip Bosco, the bus driver is a wonderful comedic creation. “That’s not exact change,” the driver says when Loomis attempts to pay him with a hundred dollar bill. “Behind the white line,” he says before starting the bus. When Loomis, who has a habit of running into things and appears to be suffering from a concussion, tries to sit down, the bus driver informs him that he’s not allowed to sit until he receives exact change. The driver has a schedule to keep and, to his credit, he largely manages to do so. Bosco plays him with such deadpan determination that it’s hard not to admire his dedication to following every single regulation to his job. As opposed to Grimm, the driver has learned to deal with living in New York by obsessively making every scheduled stop.

Quick Change struggles sometimes to balance its moments of humor and drama. Scenes of Loomis running like a cartoon character are mixed with scenes of Phyllis worrying that Grimm might actually be a hardened criminal and struggling with whether or not to tell him that she’s pregnant. This was Bill Murray’s first and only film as a director and sometimes, he does struggle to maintain a consistent tone. But, in the end, what’s important is that it’s a funny film. Bill Murray is one of those actors who can make you laugh just by existing and, as a director, he’s smart enough to give Jason Robards enough room to make Rotzinger into something more than just a standard comedic foil.

Quick Change is a comedic nightmare, one that made me laugh even as it also made me glad that I don’t have to drive in New York. I get lost just driving around the suburbs of Dallas. There’s no way I’d ever be able to find my way out of New York.

The 1971 satire, Cold Turkey, is the film that boldly explores just how much into the ground one joke can driven.

It’s a film that imagines what would happen if a big tobacco company decided to try to improve its image by giving people an incentive to quit smoking. In the real world, of course, they ended up funding Truth.org and coming up with anti-smoking commercials that were so lame that they would make viewers want to go out and buy a pack of cigarettes just to spite the self-righteous people lecturing them during the commercial breaks. In the film, however, Marwen Wren (Bob Newhart) comes up with the idea of offering to pay 25 million dollars to any community that can completely stop smoking for 30 days.

Wren figures that no large group of people will be able to just give up smoking for a month. Not in 1971! However, Wren didn’t count on the single-minded determination of the Rev. Clayton Hughes (Dick Van Dyke). Hughes is the stern and self-righteous minister of Eagle Rock Community Church in Eagle Rock, Iowa. He knows that Eagle Rock could really use that money so he sets off on a crusade to convince all 4,006 of the citizens of Eagle Rock to take the pledge to quit smoking.

As I said at the start of this review, Cold Turkey is pretty much a one-joke film. The joke is that everyone in the movie — from the tobacco company execs to the citizens of Eagle Rock to Rev. Hughes — is an asshole. They start the film as a bunch of assholes and, once they try to quit smoking, they become even bigger assholes. Soon, everyone in town is irritable and angry. The only people happy are the people who never smoked in the first place, largely because they’ve been set up as a sort of paramilitary border patrol. Even though his anti-smoking crusade lands him on the cover of Time, Rev. Hughes is also upset because he started smoking right before it was time to quit smoking. He deals with his withdraw pains through sex and frequent glowering.

Wren is concerned that the town of Eagle Rock might actually go for a full 30 days without smoking so he attempts to smuggle a bunch of cigarettes into the town and then runs around with a gigantic lighter that looks like a gun. It’s a storyline that doesn’t really go anywhere but then again, you could say that about almost all of the subplots in Cold Turkey. There’s a lot of characters and there’s a lot of frantic overacting but it doesn’t really add up too much. Storylines begin and are then quickly abandoned. Characters are introduced but then never do anything. For a while, It seems like the film is at least going to examine the Rev. Hughes’s totalitarian impulses but no. Those impulses are clearly there but they’re not really explored.

If I seem somewhat annoyed by this film, it’s because it really did have a lot of potential. This could have been a very sharp and timeless satire but instead, it gets bogged down in its own frantic storytelling and the film’s comedy becomes progressively more and more cartoonish. By the end of the movie, the President shows up in town and so does the military and it all tries to achieve some Dr. Strangelove-style lunacy but the film doesn’t seem to know what it really wants to say. It seems to be setting itself up for some sort of grandly cynical conclusion but instead, it just sort of ends. One gets the feeling that, at the last minute, the filmmakers decided that they couldn’t risk alienating their audience by taking the story to its natural conclusion.

Admittedly, while watching the film, I did find myself comparing Hughes and his bullying mob to the same people who are currently snapping at anyone who suggests that maybe the Coronavirus lockdowns were a bit excessive. It’s easy to think of some modern politicians and media figures who probably would have had a great time in Eagle Rock, ordering people around and shaming anyone who wants a cigarette. But otherwise, Cold Turkey was just too cartoonish and one-note to really work.