Tripp Spence (Harry Connick, Jr.) is a lawyer who cheated on his taxes. He goes on the run with his 13 year-old son, Derrick (Shawn Salinas). They settle in Las Vegas with new identities. Tripp now goes by Glenn Ryan and Derrick’s new name is Mickey. Because Derrick was given the identity of someone who was a year young than him, he is still eligible to play one more season of Little League baseball. Mickey leads his team to victory after victory and that’s no surprise. He’s a year older and a head taller than all the other players. Eventually, Mickey takes his team to the Little League World Series, where he plays a team from Cuba. Glenn knows that, with all of the publicity, the IRS is going to catch him but all that matters is that his son get to play in the big game.
I love baseball and I can get pretty sentimental when it comes to watching a Little League game. I tear up at both version of TheBadNewsBears. I also like Harry Connick, Jr. What I don’t like is cheating and it bothered me that this whole movie was built around a father encouraging his son to cheat. There wasn’t any reason why Mikey had to be thirteen. It wouldn’t have changed the plot that much if he had actually been twelve and still eligible to play. It’s one thing when major leaguers cheat by corking their bat or wiping something on their pitches. They’re adults and everyone knows that it’s a part of the game. But to encourage your son to cheat at Little League? That’s low.
Mickey was written by John Grisham, who loves baseball but who still should have known better.
The year is 1892 and Joseph Donnelly (Tom Cruise) is a poor tenant famer in Ireland, used and exploited by the wealthy landowners. Joseph falls in love with Shannon Christie (Nicole Kidman), the rebellious daughter of his landlord. Shannon dreams of going to America, where rumor has it that land is being given away in the territory of Oklahoma on a first come/first serve basis. Shannon even has some valuable spoons that she can use to raise money once they arrive in America. Joseph, after being challenged to a duel by the Christies’ money manger, Stephen Chase (Thomas Gibson), also decides that heading to America might be a good idea.
Life in America is not as easy as Joseph and Shannon thought it would be. They first end up in the dirty town of Boston, where Shannon loses her spoons and Joseph works for a corrupt political boss (Colm Meaney) and makes money as a bare-knuckles boxer. They’ll reach Oklahoma eventually but not before Stephen and the Christies come to Boston and Joseph ends up working on the railroad and getting called “that crazy mick” multiple times.
Far and Away was Ron Howard’s attempt to make an American epic, in the style of John Ford. It doesn’t work because Tom Cruise is too contemporary to be believable as a 19th century Irish immigrant and Howard tries so hard to push everything to an epic scale that it just makes it even more obvious how slight and predictable the movie’s story is. Far and Away is full of big movie moments but it lacks the small human moments necessary to really engage its audience. I will always remembers Far and Away because it was one of those films that seemed to take up permanent residence on HBO when I was growing up. I didn’t really care about the film’s flaws back then. Nicole Kidman was attractive and tall and she had wild red hair and back then, that’s all a movie needed to hold my attention. Unlike Cruise, Nicole Kidman can effortlessly move between historical and contemporary films and, of the two leas, she comes off the best. The movie is really stolen, though, by Colm Meaney, playing a ruthless political boss who could have taught Boss Tweed a thing or two.
Tomorrow is St. Patrick’s Day, when we will be celebrating the legacy of immigrants like the Christies and the Donnellys. Far and Away tries to pay tribute to their courage and their refusal to give up, even when things were tough and deadly on the frontier. For me, though, Far and Away will always just make me think of HBO in the 90s.
First released in 1988, Waxwork asks the audience with a very important question.
Let’s say that you and your best friend were walking to school one day when you suddenly noticed a gigantic mansion that you had never seen before, sitting in the middle of your neighborhood. And what if a tall, somewhat sinister Englishman (played by David Warner, none the less) suddenly appeared out of nowhere and told you that the mansion was actually a waxwork. And what if that Englishman than invited you to come to the waxwork at midnight and specifically asked you to come in a group of 6. Would you do it?
Now, I know that your first instinct is to say, “Of course, I wouldn’t!” That’s the type of answer that we’ve been conditioned to give because no one wants to admit that they can be as dumb as a character in a horror movie. But really, I would go. Especially if, like the characters in Waxwork, I was a teenager. (Actually, most of the characters in Waxwork are described as being college students but they all act like high school students and their college appears to be a high school so draw your own conclusions.) When you’re a certain age, you feel like you’re immortal and an invitation to hang out in a creepy building with a bunch of strangers at midnight feels totally reasonable.
Anyway, four rich kids — Mark (Zach Galligan), China (Michelle Johnson), Sarah (Deborah Foreman), and Tony (Dana Ashbrook, a year before he was cast as Laura Palmer’s boyfriend in Twin Peaks) — visit the waxwork at midnight. What they discover is that the building is full of macabre exhibits that recreate various moments from horror history. There’s werewolves, vampires, and Jack the Ripper. There’s also the Marquis de Sade, a figure that the seemingly innocent Sarah becomes fascinated with. And, as two of the visitors discover, stepping past the red rope and entering an exhibit transports them into an alternate world where they become the victim of the star of each display.
Not surprisingly, the film is at its best when imagining the world inside each exhibit. Each exhibit has its own backstory and its own set of guest stars. John Rhys-Davies shows up as a werewolf. Miles O’Keeffe is a properly urbane Count Dracula. J. Kenneth Campbell plays the Marquis de Sade, who the film imagines as a swashbuckling sadist. That said, I think the most effectively frightening exhibit was one that featured no special guest stars but a very determined and very strong mummy.
What’s going on at the waxwork!? As explained by Sir Wilfred (Patrick Macnee, bringing some welcome wit and style to the film), it’s all a part of a scheme to bring the most evil beings ever back into existence so that they can conquer the world. It’s important that none of the waxworks be allowed to enter the real world and soon, Sir Wilfred and his ragtag army are laying siege to the waxwork and bringing things to an apocalyptic conclusion. The final battle is a bit haphazardly edited and it’s impossible to really keep track of who is fighting on which side. (Indeed, I’m still not sure where Sir Wilfred even found his army.) But it does feature plenty of in-jokes for horror fans, including a cameo appearance by the carnivorous plant from Little Shop of Horrors.
Waxwork is entertaining film. It doesn’t take itself particularly seriously and, indeed, Mark, China, Sarah, Tony, and all of their friends feel as if they could just as easily have been found in the pages of a Bret Easton Ellis novel about pretty but vapid alcoholics. Mark is the type who gets his maid to write his term papers. Tony just wants to drink (but, because he’s played by the adorable Dana Ashbrook, he’s still the most likable character in the film). China says, “I do what I want, when I want,” when confronted about cheating on her boyfriend. Sarah is the “innocent” one but just seeing the words “Marquis de Sade” causes her to swoon. Dropping these four idiots into a situation where the fate of the world is at stake feels like a wonderfully sardonic cosmic joke.
In the end, the true pleasure of Waxwork is watching old pros like David Warner, Patrick Macnee, and the exhibit guest stars hamming it up. Macnee, in particular, seems to enjoy leading the final charge against the forces of evil and, indeed, it’s hard not to wish that he had even more screen time than he did. David Warner, meanwhile, rolls his eyes at just how difficult it can be to bring the 18 most evil figure in history back to life. It’s hard work but I guess someone has to do it!
Welcome to Retro Television Reviews, a new feature where we review some of our favorite and least favorite shows of the past! On Fridays, I will be reviewing Half Nelson, which ran on NBC from March to May of 1985. Almost all nine of the show’s episodes can be found on YouTube!
(Directed by Alan Cooke, originally aired on March 29th, 1985)
I cannot escape Robert Reed.
Seriously! Robert Reed is one of those actors who seems to show up every week in my retro television reviews. If he wasn’t starring in The Brady Bunch Hour, he was guesting on The Love Boator Fantasy Island. And now, he’s the guest villain in this week’s episode of Half Nelson!
Reed, with his graying perm and his aging porn star mustache, plays Seymour Griffith. Griffith is a fabulously wealthy Beverly Hills attorney who is planning on becoming even more wealthy by stealing a valuable vase and selling it to a crooked antiques dealer named Morgan (Cesar Romero). Unfortunately, while stealing the vase, Griffith kills the owner. (Griffith is also having an affair with the dead man’s wife.) Somewhat inconveniently, for Griffith, the dead man was a client of the Beverly Hills Patrol! Rocky Nelson is on the case, both because he’s romantically pursuing the dead man’s daughter (Michelle Johnson) and also because Rocky believes in justice.
This week’s villains
The tone of The Vase is notably different from the pilot that preceded it. The Pilot had its comedic elements (such as Rocky continually borrowing famous cars from the studio) but it was ultimately fairly serious and it even ended on something of a down note, with Police Chief Parsons (George Kennedy) committing suicide rather than face justice for the murders that he committed. In the pilot, Rocky was definitely out-of-place as a New Yorker in Los Angeles but, at the same time, he was finding his way around his new town and learning how to fit in.
TheDeadlyVase, on the other hand, reimagines Rocky as a short, Italian version of Eddie Murphy’s Axel Foley from Beverly Hills Cop. Chester (Fred Williamson), who was a supportive boss in the pilot, is suddenly a bit uptight about Rocky investigating a crime in Beverly Hills. He even sends his newest recruits, Kurt and Beau (played by Bubba Smith and Hang Time‘s Dick Butkus), to follow Rocky around Beverly Hills and make sure that Rocky doesn’t offend any rich people with his New York attitude. This episode pretty much just duplicates the plot of Beverly Hills Cop. During one car chase, The Heat Is On plays on the soundtrack and it’s hard not to notice that the other musical cues are almost identical to the ones heard in Beverly Hills Cop.
Smith and Butkus aren’t the only new members of the cast. Dependable character actor Gary Grubbs joins the show as Detective Hamill, who is far less a fan of Rocky’s than Parsons was. Hamill shows up long enough to order Rocky to stay off the case and to get growled at by Rocky’s pit bull. Hamill also gets to have a conversation with Dean Martin about whether or not Frank and Sammy and Shirley MacClaine would be willing to do a benefit for the Beverly Hills police department. Dean is only onscreen for a few minutes but it’s still nice to see him there.
Joe Pesci, who was so strong in the pilot, spends most of this episode looking more than a little annoyed so I’m going to guess that he may not have been happy with the show’s new direction. About the only time Pesci seems to be having fun is when Rocky is hired to play a hot dog in a commercial. The director of the commercial is played by Donald O’Connor and yes, Pesci does wear a hot dog costume.
Joe Pesci getting dressed up like a hot dog pretty much saved this episode as the mystery itself was fairly bland and Robert Reed never really felt like a worthy opponent to Rocky. Hopefully, next week’s episode will be a bit of an improvement …. or, at least, let’s hope the show finds another excuse to put Joe Pesci in a hot dog costume.
Last night, Jeff and I watched the 1988 film, Slipping Into Darkness. It’s available on Prime and we watched it because it looked like it was good, old-fashioned revenge flick. The plot description said something about a former biker kidnapping the three women who he held responsible for the death of his brother. It sounded trashy and fun and you know what? It definitely is trashy and fun.
It’s also one of the most thoroughly incoherent film that I’ve ever seen.
If you were to ask me what I learned from watching Slipping Into Darkness, I would say that I was amazed to discover that it doesn’t hurt to get your fingers shot off. Seriously, one character loses his fingers and, just a few minutes later, he’s hitching a ride out of town. (Needless to say, he has to use his other hand to flag down a ride.) Even though he’s with his friends, no one seems to be too concerned with the fact that he’s just had several of his fingers blown off. No one says, “Hey, you want to go to the hospital before you bleed to death?” I don’t think it even occurs to anyone to pick up his fingers. They just leave them in a cornfield.
The other thing that I discovered is that some people can still do stuff for several minutes after having a switchblade thrown straight into their brain. I mean, I guess maybe that’s true. I’ve heard of weird stuff like that happening but it still seems like having a knife sticking out of your forehead would be a bigger deal than it appears to be in this film.
Just from reading those two paragraphs, you might think that this is like an over-the-top Evil Dead-style comedy, where the action is deliberately cartoonish. What’s strange is that it’s not. Instead, it’s a rather pretentious film from Nebraska that actually seems like it wants to say something about …. well, something. I mean, it’s either trying to say something about morality or the director just randomly decided to include several nuns standing in the background of several shots. You tell me.
Anyway, the film is about three best friends, Carlyle (Michelle Johnson), Genevieve (Anastasia Fielding), and Alex (Cristen Kaufman). Caryle is rich and self-centered. Genevieve is obsessed with sex. And Alex is just kind of there. When we first see them, they’re flirting with some bikers, who turn out to be less than ideal company. Later, after they get away from the bikers, they accidentally hit a dog with their Mercedes. Fortunately, the dog lives and they take it to the vet. They also take the dog’s owner, Ebin (Neil Barry), with them as well. Ebin is developmentally disabled so they take him to get ice cream. One jump cut later and Ebin is getting run over by a train. A coroner who announces that, when he died, Ebin was covered in ice cream and liquor.
Ebin’s older brother, Fritz (John D’Aquino), is convinced that Ebin’s death was no accident because Ebin didn’t drink. Maybe the ice cream’s a clue? After Fritz sees Carlyle returning the dog from the vet, he decides to kidnap the three friends and demand to know what happened to his brother. Helping Carlyle out are T-Bone (David Sherrill) and Otis (Vyto Ruginis), two of the bikers who the girls met earlier but who are now apparently unrecognizable because they’ve shaved and gotten haircuts.
Following this so far?
So, Fritz and his friends kidnap Carlye and her friends. And, at first, Carlyle and her friends don’t want to be kidnapped but then, about five minutes, the girls and their kidnappers are suddenly best friends and everyone just kind of forgets about Ebin. Genevieve and Otis go off to the cemetery together and, when the sun rises, it turns out that Otis has accidentally killed her during a sessions of rough graveyard sex.
What’s odd is that no one — not even Genevieve’s two best friends — seems to be particularly upset about Otis having killed her. Instead, they just bury her in a nearby grave and then they start do discuss how to best protect Otis. So, I guess the whole kidnapping thing has been resolved and no one cares about Ebin anymore.
However, it turns out that Otis is too paranoid to be protected. Running off to a farmhouse, he discovers an old farmer who has committed suicide. “This is a shit world,” Otis declares. Soon, everyone’s getting chased through a wheat field by Otis, who has commandeered a thrasher….
And the movie’s not over yet! But I’m not going to spoil any more of it. It’s on Prime and you can watch it for yourself. Slipping Into Darkness is one of the most incoherent films that I’ve ever seen and yet it’s such an incomprehensible mess that it’s actually a lot of fun to watch. The dialogue is frequently ludicrous and is filled with lines that sound like they were written by an Intro to Philosophy student trying to be profound. The film is full of jump cuts, which makes it increasingly difficult to understand how once scene relates another. It’s impossible to keep track of who is friends with who or who is investigating what because everyone’s motivation and mood randomly changes from scene to scene. At one point, Fritz is obsessed with his brother’s death and then, a few minutes later, he no longer seems to care. Otis feels guilty about killing Genevieve and then, in the next scene, he’s a giggling sociopath making crude jokes about necrophilia. Alex hates T-Bone and then she loves T-Bone and then she hates him and then she loves him and seriously, who can keep track? The entire movie plays out like a fever dream.
Interestingly, a lot of the film’s most important events take place off-screen. I don’t know if the director was trying to make a statement about the randomness of life or if she just ran out of money before filming certain scenes. “We just got arrested!” a character cries towards the end of the film before then adding that they also got bailed out. Well, that’s good. It would have been nice to have seen that but oh well. As long as everything works out….
What to make of Slipping Into Darkness? I have no idea. It’s on Prime. Go watch it, let me know if you can figure out what the Hell’s going on.
The birds are pissed off. A hang glider gets pecked to death while flying through the sky. A chicken farmer is devoured. A professional hunter loses an eye to a bird and then has to use the remaining one to watch as the birds savagely attack his granddaughter’s birthday party. A family on vacation is forced to run for cover as their attacked by pigeons and doves. From South America to Spain to Puerto Rico, the birds are organizing and they are attacking. Can journalist Vanessa (Michelle Johnson) and her cameraman Peter (Christopher Atkins) figure out why the birds are attacking or are they destined to become the latest victims of the avian terror?
This may sound like the Hitchcock film but Beaks was directed by Mexico’s Rene Cardona, Jr. and that makes all the difference. Following in the footsteps of his father, Cardona was the king of Mexican B-movies. There was no idea strange enough or plot stupid enough that Rene Cardona, Jr. couldn’t take it and turn it into a really bad movie. Even by his standards, Beaks is bad as pigeons and doves are tossed at screaming actors. Why are the birds attacking? Caronda shows us a polluted lake as if to say, “Any questions?” In the end, the birds attack until they suddenly don’t anymore but don’t get too cocky because there are other animals out there that are looking mighty disgruntled.
For some reason, in the late 80s and early 90s, Christopher Atkins had a very busy career in bad movies. Seeing the Atkins name in the cast was usually a good sign that it was time to change the channel. In Beaks, he gets the best line when he says, “These birds know what they’re doing!” The film’s second best line goes to another actor, Gabriele Tinti, who says, “Fucking bird, flapping everywhere.”
If Hitchcock made The Birds with less skill but more gore and gratuitous nudity, the end result would still be better than Beaks.
When I was growing up in Baltimore, I used to go down to this independent video story every weekend and check out movies. Every time that I stepped into the store, the first thing I saw was the poster for Blame It On Rio hanging over the front register. The store did not actually have any copies of Blame It On Rio in stock and I don’t think anyone working there had ever seen it but it only takes one look at the poster to guess what they were thinking when they hung it at the front of the store.
Blame It On Rio is one of the films that Michael Caine made during that period when he was willing to accept any paycheck. (The Jaws 4 years.) Caine plays Matthew, who goes on a vacation to Rio with his 17 year-old daughter, Nikki (Demi Moore), his best friend Victor (Joseph Bologna), and Victor’s daughter, Jennifer (Michelle Johnson). Both Matthew and Victor’s marriages are falling apart and Victor encourages Matthew to hit on every topless woman they see. Instead, Matthew ends up fooling around with Jennifer. When Victor discovers that his daughter to having an affair with an older, married man, he recruits Matthew to help him discover the man’s identity. In between the scenes of all the action in Brazil, Matthew and Jennifer appear in interview segments that do no add up to much.
It may be hard to believe but this forgettable movie was co-written by Larry Gelbart and directed by the same director responsible for Singin’ In The Rain, Charade, and Two For The Road, Stanley Donen. For a film about a 43 year-old man having a sexual relationship with a 17 year-old, Blame It On Rio is a hopelessly square movie. Caine and Bologna walking along a topless beach and accidentally leering at their own daughters is about as funny as things get. Michael Caine’s a trooper and does the best that he can but Michelle Johnson is bland as Jennifer. She and Demi Moore should have switched roles.
When I was growing up in Baltimore, I used to go down to this independent video story every weekend and check out movies. Every time that I stepped into the store, the first thing I saw was the poster for Blame It On Rio hanging over the front register. The store did not actually have any copies of Blame It On Rio in stock and I don’t think anyone working there had ever seen it but it only takes one look at the poster to guess what they were thinking when they hung it at the front of the store.
Through the Shattered Lens 