John Roarke | Through the Shattered Lens

Cliff Spab (Stehpen Dorff), his friend Joe Dice (Jack Noseworthy), and teenager Wendy Pfister (Reese Witherspoon) are in the wrong convenience store at the wrong time and end up being taken hostage by a group of masked terrorists who have guns and video cameras. For 36 days straight, their ordeal is broadcast live on television. They become the number one show in the country and Cliff’s nihilistic attitude makes him a star. When the terrorists threaten to kill him, he spits back, “So fucking what!?” Alienated young people take up S.F.W. as a personal chant and credo. When Joe finally fights back, both he and the terrorists are killed in the shoot-out. Wendy and Cliff are now celebrities, even though they don’t want to be. Released into the real world, Cliff has to deal with everyone wanting to make money off of him. His alienation has been turned into a product. He just wants to be reunited with Wendy but his fans want him to tell them how to live their lives. Fandom turns out be a fickle beast.

Earlier this morning, I came across a news item that Jefery Levy, the director of S.F.W., had died at the age of 67. S.F.W. used to show up frequently on cable in the 90s but I hadn’t thought about it in years. When I first saw S.F.W., I didn’t care much for it. Cliff came across as being a poseur and Stephen Dorff came across like he was way too impressed with himself. With John Roarke playing everyone from Phil Donahue to Sam Donaldson and Gary Coleman appearing as himself, the movie seemed like it was trying too hard to be outrageous. Looking back on it now, though, I realize S.F.W. may not have been a good movie but it was still a very prophetic movie. What seemed implausible in the 90s — like the 36-day live stream from inside the convenience store hostage situation and Cliff Spab’s fans switching their allegiance to a self-righteous virgin who yells that everything matters while trying to assassinate him — feels far too plausible today.

In 1994, S.F.W. and Jefery Levy predicted the 2020s. The only thing it got wrong was having Cliff Spab not wanting to be a famous. Today, Cliff Spab would probably be presenting the Best Podcast award at the Golden Globes.

Frank Drebin is back!

Now separated from Jane (Priscilla Presley) and working in Washington D.C., Frank (Leslie Nielsen) finds himself investigating a bombing at the offices of Dr. Albert S. Meinheimer (Richard Griffiths), an advocate of renewable energy who has just been put in charge of America’s energy policies by President George H.W. Bush (John Roarke, who was better-known for playing Ronald Reagan on Friday’s). With the help of Captain Ed Hocken (George Kennedy) and Officer Nordberg (O.J. Simpson), Drebin’s investigation leads him to Quentin Haspburg (Robert Goulet), an oilman who is plotting on replacing Dr. Meinheimer with a double. It also leads him back to Jane, who is now working as an assistant to Meinheimer and being wooed by Hapsburg.

The Naked Gun 2 1/2 is a worthy sequel to the first Naked Gun. It’s more plot-heavy than the first film and some of the jokes feel a little bit too familiar but it’s still a very funny film. That’s largely due to Neilsen, Kennedy, and Presley, all of whom really commit to playing their absurd characters. (Robert Goulet gives a game performance but he really can’t match Ricardo Montalban’s villainous turn in the first movie.) Nielsen was probably the only actor alive who could keep a straight face even while hitting Barbara Bush in the face while opening a door and then struggling to eat lobster at a state dinner. As was often the case with the ZAZ films (even though Jim Abrahams and Jerry Zucker didn’t have anything to do with the screenplay of the sequel), the funniest moments are also the most random and the stupidest. I laughed a lot harder than I should have at Leslie Neilsen struggling with a very small towel that had been thrown against his face. And don’t worry, O.J. Simpson fans. Nordberg gets injured in this movie too.

Leslie Nielsen was one of those actors who could make anything funny. Whether he was delivering his hard-boiled dialogue or doing absurd physical comedy with an absolutely straight face, it was impossible not to laugh when Leslie Nielsen was onscreen. He was a true cinematic treasure.