First produced in 1987, the short film The Day My Kid Went Punk tells the story of Terry Warner (Jay Underwood), a clean-cut teenager and aspiring violinist who lands a summer job working as a daycare counselor at a luxury hotel.
Feeling that he’s been neglected in favor of his high achieving older brother and his younger sister, Terry acts like a typical middle child and decides to change his image right after leaving home for his job. (It worked for Jan Brady!) He decides to become a punk. (Jan Brady never went that far.) Could this have something to do with his mother (Christine Belford) being the nation’s leading expert on the “Punk Syndrome,” that is terrifying parents everywhere? Or could it just be because Terry knows that he’ll never be as cool as his father (Bernie Kopell), who might claim to be named Tom Warner but who is obviously just Adam Bricker living in the suburbs? Every time Tom looks at his “punk” son, you can just see him dreading the thought of word of this getting back to Captain Stubing.
(Incidentally, the family in film is clearly named Warner but, in all of the advertisements that I’ve seen for this special, including the one at the top of the post, they’re identified as being the Nelson family.)
Needless to say, Terry Warner is, in no way, a convincing punk and judging from the film’s dialogue and plot, it would appear that the film doesn’t really know the difference between punk, goth, and heavy metal. Everyone at the hotel is a bit taken aback by Terry’s appearance but he proves himself to be a good worker and the kids absolutely love riding horses with him. I guess the message is that you shouldn’t judge someone based solely on how he looks. That’s a good message except that it’s ultimately undercut by Terry himself and his decision abandon his punk look as soon as it inconveniences him at school. So, I guess the message is that teens should dress the way they want unless it keeps them from winning first chair in the school band and parents shouldn’t worry because teenagers are so shallow that they’ll abandon anything after a month or two. The film suggests that Punk is less of a syndrome and more of a fad that whiny middle children go through during the summer.
(Myself, I’m not a middle child. I’m the youngest of four and I’ve never felt particularly ignored, even if there were times when it seemed like being left alone would be a nice change of pace. That said, I definitely went through some phases while I was growing up. During my junior and senior years of high school, I always made sure that I was wearing at least one black garment and I wrote emo poetry under the name Pandora DeSaad.)
Anyway, Halloween’s approaching and this very (and I do mean very) campy short film feels like a good way to welcome a month that encourages everyone, young and old, to think about putting on costumes. Here is The Day My Kid Went Punk!
As some of our regular readers undoubtedly know, I am involved in a few weekly live tweets on Twitter and Mastodon. I host #FridayNightFlix every Friday, I co-host #ScarySocial on Saturday, and I am one of the five hosts of #MondayActionMovie! Every week, we get together. We watch a movie. We tweet our way through it.
Tonight, at 10 pm et, #FridayNightFlix has got 1992’s Army of Darkness, starring the one and only Bruce Campbell!
If you want to join us this Friday, just hop onto twitter, start the movie at 10 pm et, and use the #FridayNightFlix hashtag! It’s a friendly group and welcoming of newcomers so don’t be shy.
Army of Darkness is available on Prime! See you there!
4 (or more) Shots From 4 (or more) Films is just what it says it is, 4 (or more) shots from 4 (or more) of our favorite films. As opposed to the reviews and recaps that we usually post, 4 (or more) Shots From 4 (or more) Films lets the visuals do the talking.
Today, the Shattered Lens wishes a happy 53rd birthday to Danish director Nicholas Winding Refn! Drivewas one of the first films to really be celebrated on this site, receiving reviews from several contributors. Personally, I preferred The Neon Demon.
In honor of of the man and his work, it’s time for….
4 Shots from 4 Nicolas Winding Refn Films
Bronson (2008, dir by Nicolas Winding Refn, DP: Larry Smith)
Drive (2011, dir by Nicolas Winding Refn, DP: Newton Thomas Sigel)
Only God Forgives (2013,dir by Nicolas Winding Refn, DP: Larry Smith)
The Neon Demon (2016, dir by Nicolas Winding Refn, DP: Natasha Braier)
The 1975 drive-in film, Trucker’s Woman, opens with the tragic (and rather horrifying) death of Jim Kelly, a trucker who meets his demise when the breaks on his truck fail. We watch as Jim is tossed back and forth inside the cab of his truck and, in fact, the film’s opening credits play out over freeze frames of Jim’s gruesome end. Jim was a beloved member of the trucking community and his funeral is about as well-attended as a funeral taking place in a low-budget film can be. Everyone is going to be miss Jim but fortunately, his son Mike (Michael Hawkins) is going to carry on the family business!
As Mike explains to his father’s permanently soused friend, Ben Turner (Doodles Weaver), he’s giving up a lot to take over for his father. Mike is dropping out of college and sacrificing his dream of becoming a philosophy professor. Of course, Mike appears to be nearly 50 so, if he still hasn’t gotten that degree, it’s probably for the best that he went ahead of gave up on that dream. From what little we saw of Jim, he appeared to be 50 as well so you have to kind of wonder if Mike is actually his son. My theory is that Mike was just a drifter who happened to see a funeral occurring off the side of the road and decided to cash in.
Anyway, Mike is soon driving a truck and discovering that his boss, Fontaine (Jack Canon), is a bit of a jerk who favors certain truckers more than others. Mike also meets Fontaine’s daughter, Karen (Mary Cannon), at a roadside bar and ends up following her back to her motel, pounding on her door until she gets out of the shower and answers it while wearing a towel, and then announcing that he’s going to be accepting her offer to spend the night with her….
So, you can probably already guess what the main problem with this film is. At best, Mike is a jerk. At worst, he’s an alcoholic misogynist who breaks into a woman’s motel room, demands sex, and is then offended when she leaves the next morning without telling him where she’s going. The film tries to portray Mike as being a strong, independent man who works hard and refuses to be ordered around. However, he comes across less like Burt Reynolds in Smokey and the Bandit or Kris Kristofferson in Convoyand more like one of those truckers who eventually gets caught with a dead body in the back of his cab. Everything about Mike just screams homicidal drifter. Not even the title character from Henry: Portrait of a Serial Killerwould have accepted a ride from this guy.
Anyway, Mike and Ben attempt to discover who sabotaged the brakes on old Jim Kelly’s rig and since only a mechanic could have done it, suspicion immediately falls on Diesel Joe (Larry Drake) because he’s the only mechanic in the film! And who paid Diesel Joe to sabotage the brakes? Well, there’s only person in the film who has any money so it looks like it’s time for Ben to rally the other truckers and Mike to toss a bunch of people into Fontaine’s pool.
Trucker’s Woman does not work as a thriller or a mystery or a comedy. It does work as a time capsule of the 70s. Seriously, look at all of those wood-paneled rooms! Look at all of those plaid jackets! Seriously, there’s enough plaid in this film it could have just as easily been called Forever Plaid. Filmed on the highways of South Carolina, Trucker’s Woman is a film the epitomizes an era but there’s plenty of other films that do the exact same thing and don’t feature an alcoholic misogynist as the lead character. (Seriously, Rubber Duck would have tossed Mike Kelly out of a moving truck.)
Finally, Trucker’s Woman is infamous in some circles for featuring a random shot of a pepperoni pizza sitting on a wooden deck. It’s a shot that pops up out of nowhere and has nothing to do with the rest of the film. It’s thought that the shot was included as an experiment in subliminal advertising and I will admit that my sister and I did order a pizza after this film ended.
4 (or more) Shots From 4 (or more) Films is just what it says it is, 4 (or more) shots from 4 (or more) of our favorite films. As opposed to the reviews and recaps that we usually post, 4 (or more) Shots From 4 (or more) Films lets the visuals do the talking.
101 years ago today, Arthur Penn was born in Philadelphia. In the 50s, Penn was one of the new crop of directors who made a name for themselves directing for television. Like most of his colleagues, he transitioned into film. Unlike many of his colleagues, he remained a fiercely iconoclastic director, one who was willing to challenge the conventions of Hollywood. While his early films often struggled at the box office, he was respected by actors and hailed as a visionary by the directors of the French New Wave.
In 1967, he and Warren Beatty changed the course of American cinema with Bonnie and Clyde. Penn followed up that classic film with movies like Alice’s Restaurant, Little Big Man, Night Moves, and a handful of others. When he died in 2010, Penn was hailed as one of the most influential (if sometimes underrated) directors of all time.
Today, in honor of the anniversary of his birth, the Shattered Lens offers up….
4 Shots From 4 Arthur Penn Films
The Chase (1966, dir by Arthur Penn, DP: Joseph LaShelle)
Bonnie and Clyde (1967, dir by Arthur Penn, DP: Burnett Guffey)
Alice’s Restaurant (1969, dir by Arthur Penn, DP: Michael Nebbia)
Little Big Man (1970, dir by Arthur Penn, DP: Harry Stradling Jr)
A British documentary from 2016, My Dad’s On Death Row tells the story of two men who sat on Texas’s death row.
John Battaglia was a handsome man with a charming smile who, despite having a violent criminal record, had established himself as a respected accountant who had friends who lived in Highland Park (the richest part of Dallas) and who lived in a hip apartment in Deep Ellum. In 1999, his wife filed for divorce and Battaglia was given probation after pleading guilty to a misdemeanor charge of spousal abuse. When he continued to call his ex-wife in violation of a restraining order, she threatened to inform his probation office. Battaglia reacted by taking his two youngest daughters to his apartment, calling his ex-wife, and then forcing her to listen as he murdered them. After killing his daughters, Battaglia went to a nearby tattoo parlor and got two roses tattooed on his bicep. The cops who saw the crime scene described it as the most horrific thing that they had ever seen. Battaglia was arrested and convicted of the crime. When Battaglia was sentenced to death, he turned to his ex-wife in the courtroom and told her to “Burn in Hell.”
Coy Wayne Westbrook murdered five people, including his ex-wife, at a party in Channelview, Texas. Westbrook said that, after his ex-wife and the other party guests made fun of him and his attempts to reconcile with her, Westbrook went out to his truck, grabbed a rifle, and opened fire when he returned. Despite Westbrook’s claim that he didn’t originally mean to kill anyone and the defense’s claim that Westbrook’s low IQ made his incapable of understanding his actions, a jury still sentenced him to death.
Both Coy Westbrook and John Battaglia are dead now, executed by the state of Texas. My Dad’s OnDeath Row documents their final days and features interviews with them, the surviving members of their families, and people who both support and oppose the death penalty. While this British-made documentary is critical of the death penalty, it never makes the mistake of idealizing or excusing either Coy Westbrook or John Battaglia. As someone who is personally opposed to the death penalty, nothing annoys me more than the counter-productive tendency of certain anti-capital punishment activists to insist that everyone on Death Row was either wrongly convicted or is a saint in disguise. This documentary leaves no doubt that both Westbrook and Battaglia were guilty of the crimes for which they were convicted. When John Battaglia smirks while he discusses abusing his wife and murdering his children, even the most liberal of viewers will want to reach through the screen and wring his neck.
The film focuses on two daughters. Westbrook’s daughter fought to save her father’s life. Battaglia’s surviving daughter supported his execution. Both of them carry the psychological scars of their father’s crimes. In its nonjudgmental way, the documentary examines what it’s like to be the child of a parent who has committed the worst crime imaginable. Even more than being about how people die in prison, it’s about how those left behind struggle to continue their lives. It’s a moving and thought-provoking documentary and it can currently be viewed on Tubi.
“Sex isn’t the only thing I care about. It’s just that I’ve always imagined myself falling in love with someone …. who’s alive. I know that may sound strange to you, but it’s just the way I was brought up.”
Sometimes, it just takes one line to transform a mere bad movie into a masterpiece of weirdness and that’s certainly what happens in 2003’s Julie and Jack when Jack Livingston (Justin Kunkle) attempts to explain why he’s having trouble with the idea of committing to Julie Romanov (Jenn Gotzon). Jack is a computer chip salesman who has been unlucky in love until he joins CupidMatchmaker.Com and meets Julie Romanov. He quickly falls in love with Julie, despite the fact that she refuses to tell him anything about her past and he never meets her in person. Instead, they spend their time walking around a virtual reality recreation of San Francisco.
Why is Julie so sensitive? Well, Julie is not exactly alive. When she was among the living, she was a brilliant computer programmer but, when she found out she was dying of a brain tumor, she managed to transfer her mind into the Internet. Her body may be dead but her mind and her personality live on, haunting dating websites. When Jack discovers the truth about his new girlfriend, he has to decide if he can be in love with someone with whom he can never have sex.
(It never seems to occur to either Jack or Julie that there also might be issues involved with someone having a relationship in which one person who is no longer among the living and will never age while her partner gets older and closer to his own death.)
It’s pretty dumb but it’s also so earnest and stupidly sincere that it’s kind of hard not to like it. Julie and Jack was the directorial debut of James Nguyen, who went on achieve a certain cinematic infamy with the Birdemic films. Just as the Birdemic films seemed to sincerely believe that they had something important to say about environmentalism, Julie and Jack has similar delusions of grandeur, with the main difference being that the message of Julie and Jack is a bit more heartfelt than Birdemic’s Al Gore-inspired preachiness.
The film has all of the things that we normally associate with James Nguyen’s work. The pointless driving scenes, the meandering travelogue shots of San Francisco, the scenes were everyone in a boardroom applauds, they’re all here with Nguyen’s other trademark obsessions. Because it’s not a Nguyen film without a reference to Hitchcock, Tippi Hedren has a cameo appearance as Julie’s mother and, of course, Nguyen includes a scene in which she talks about how much she loves birds. Do you think Hedren ever got tired of directors telling her to react to birds? I mean, she did make other films. Of course, other than Marnie and Roar, I can’t really think of any of them right now….
Anyway, Julie and Jack is silly and dumb and visually, it looks like a community college student film. At the same time, it’s so sincere and so cheerfully clueless about its inability to be the thought-provoking and mind-bending love story that it wants to be that I can’t help but like it a little. It’s a film that tries very, very hard and it’s difficult not to appreciate, on at least some level, the effort.
In 2021, I finally saw the infamous film, The Bonfire of the Vanities.
I saw it when it premiered on TCM. Now, I have to say that there were quite a few TCM fans who were not happy about The Bonfire of the Vanities showing up on TCM, feeling that the film had no place on a station that was supposed to be devoted to classic films. While it’s true that TCM has shown “bad” films before, they were usually films that, at the very least, had a cult reputation. And it is also true that TCM has frequently shown films that originally failed with audiences or critics or both. However, those films had almost all been subsequently rediscovered by new audiences and often reevaluated by new critics. The Bonfire of the Vanities is not a cult film. It’s not a film about which one can claim that it’s “so bad that it’s good.” As for the film being reevaluated, I’ll just say that there is no one more willing than me to embrace a film that was rejected by mainstream critics. But, as I watched The Bonfire of the Vanities, I saw that everything negative that I had previously read about the film was true.
Released in 1990 and based on a novel by Tom Wolfe, Bonfire of the Vanities stars Tom Hanks as Sherman McCoy, a superficial Wall Street trader who has the perfect penthouse and a painfully thin, status-obsessed wife (Kim Cattrall). Sherman also has a greedy mistress named Maria (Melanie Griffith). It’s while driving with Maria that Sherman takes a wrong turn and ends up in the South Bronx. When Sherman gets out of the car to move a tire that’s in the middle of the street, two black teenagers approach him. Maria panics and, after Sherman jumps back in the car, she runs over one of the teens. Maria talks Sherman into not calling the police. The police, however, figure out that Sherman’s car was the one who ran over the teen. Sherman is arrested and finds himself being prosecuted by a power-hungry district attorney (F. Murray Abraham). The trial becomes the center of all of New York City’s racial and economic strife, with Sherman becoming “the great white defendant,” upon whom blame for all of New York’s problems can be placed. Bruce Willis plays an alcoholic journalist who was British in the novel. Morgan Freeman plays the judge, who was Jewish in the novel. As well, in the novel, the judge was very much a New York character, profanely keeping order in the court and spitting at a criminal who spit at him first. In the movie, the judge delivers a speech ordering everyone to “be decent to each other” like their mothers taught them to be.
Having read Wolfe’s very novel before watching the film, I knew that there was no way that the adaptation would be able to remain a 100% faithful to Wolfe’s lacerating satire. Because the main character of Wolfe’s book was New York City, he was free to make almost all of the human characters as unlikable as possible. In the book, Peter Fallow is a perpetually soused opportunist who doesn’t worry about who he hurts with his inflammatory articles. Sherman McCoy is a haughty and out-of-touch WASP who never loses his elitist attitude. In the film, Bruce Willis smirks in his wiseguy manner and mocks the other reporters for being so eager to destroy Sherman. Hanks, meanwhile, attempts to play Sherman as an everyman who just happens to live in a luxury penthouse and spend his days on Wall Street. Hanks is so miscast and so clueless as how to play a character like this that Sherman actually comes across as if he’s suffering from some sort of brain damage. He feels less like a stockbroker and more like Forrest Gump without the Southern accent. There’s a scene, written specifically for the film, in which Fallow and Sherman ride the subway together and it literally feels like a parody of one of those sentimental buddy films where a cynic ends up having to take a road trip with someone who has been left innocent and naïve as result of spending the first half of their life locked in basement or a bomb shelter. It’s one thing to present Sherman as being wealthy and uncomfortable among those who are poor. It’s another thing to leave us wondering how he’s ever been able to successfully cross a street in New York City without getting run over by an angry cab driver.
Because the film can’t duplicate Wolfe’s unique prose, it instead resorts to mixing cartoonish comedy and overwrought melodrama. It doesn’t add up too much. At one point, Sherman ends a dinner party by firing a rifle in his apartment but, after it happens, the incident is never mentioned again. I mean, surely someone else in the apartment would have called the cops about someone firing a rifle in the building. Someone in the press would undoubtedly want to write a story about Sherman McCoy, the center of the city’s trial of the century, firing a rifle in his own apartment. If the novel ended with Sherman resigned to the fact that his legal problems are never going to end, the film ends with Sherman getting revenge on everyone who has persecuted him and he does so with a smirk that does not at all feel earned. After two hours of being an idiot, Sherman suddenly outthinks everyone else. Why? Because the film needed the happy ending that the book refused to offer up.
Of course, the film’s biggest sin is that it’s just boring. It’s a dull film, full of good actors who don’t really seem to care about the dialogue that they are reciting. Director Brian De Palma tries to give the film a certain visual flair, resorting to his usual collection of odd camera angles and split screens, none of which feel at all necessary to the story. In the end, De Palma is not at all the right director for the material. Perhaps Sidney Lumet could have done something with it, though he would have still had to deal with the less than impressive script. De Palma’s over-the-top, set piece-obsessed sensibilities just add to the film’s cartoonish feel.
The film flopped at the box office. De Palma’s career never recovered. Tom Hanks’s career as a leading man was momentarily derailed. Bruce Willis would have to wait a few more years to establish himself as a serious actor. Even the normally magnanimous Morgan Freeman has openly talked about how much he hated being involved with The Bonfire of the Vanities. That said, the film lives on because De Palma allowed journalist Julie Salomon to hang out on the set and the book she wrote about the production, The Devil’s Candy, is a classic of Hollywood non-fiction. (TCM adapted the book into a podcast, which is how The Bonfire of the Vanities came to be featured on the station.) Thanks to Salomon’s book, The Bonfire of the Vanities has gone to become the epitome of a certain type of flop, the literary adaptation that is fatally compromised by executives who don’t read.
As some of our regular readers undoubtedly know, I am involved in hosting a few weekly live tweets on twitter and occasionally Mastodon. I host #FridayNightFlix every Friday, I co-host #ScarySocial on Saturday, and I am one of the five hosts of Mastodon’s #MondayActionMovie! Every week, we get together. We watch a movie. We snark our way through it.
Tonight, for #MondayActionMovie, the film will be 2001’s Princess of Thieves! Selected and hosted by Sweet Emmy Cat, this movie features Malcolm McDowell with long hair so you know it has to be good!
Following #MondayActionMovie, Brad and Sierra will be hosting the #MondayMuggers live tweet. We will be watching 2017’s Wind River, starring Jeremy Renner and Elizabeth Olsen!
It should make for a night of fun viewing and I invite all of you to join in. If you want to join the live tweets, just hop onto Mastodon, pull up Princess of Thieves on YouTube, start the movie at 8 pm et, and use the #MondayActionMovie hashtag! Then, at 10 pm et, switch over to Twitter and Netflix, start Wind River, and use the #MondayMuggers hashtag! The live tweet community is a friendly group and welcoming of newcomers so don’t be shy.
Today, the Shattered Lens wishes a happy 79th birthday to actor and producer Michael Douglas!
For today’s scene that I love, we have a scene from Oliver Stone’s 1987 film, Wall Street. In this scene, Michael Douglas plays Gordon Gekko. Gekko is supposed to be the film’s villain but he’s actually a lot more compelling and, at times, sympathetic than the film’s heroes. He’s not a judgmental jerk like the union leader played by Martin Sheen. Nor is he a snitch like his protegee, played by Charlie Sheen. Instead, Gordon Gekko is honest about who he is.
This is the scene that won Michael Douglas an Oscar. Watching him in this scene, it’s easy to see why Douglas’s performance supposedly inspired a lot of people to get a job working on Wall Street. Douglas is so charismatic in this scene that he makes this movie, directed by a future supporter of Bernie Sanders, into one of the best advertisements for capitalism ever filmed.
Through the Shattered Lens 