An Offer You Can’t Refuse #19: Scarface (dir by Brian DePalma)

Posted on July 9, 2020 by Lisa Marie Bowman

“Hello to my little friend!”

Hi, little friend….

BOOM!

The 1983 film, Scarface, is a misunderstood film. As we all know, it’s the story of Tony Montana (Al Pacino), who comes to Miami from Cuba along with his friend, Manny (Steven Bauer). In return for murdering a former member of Castro’s government, Tony is given a job working for Frank Lopez (Robert Loggia). When it becomes obvious that Tony is becoming too ambitious and might become a threat to him, Frank attempts to have Tony killed. However, the assassination attempt fails, Tony murders Frank, and then Tony becomes Miami’s richest and most powerful crime lord. Soon, Tony is burying his face in a mountain of cocaine while making deals with a sleazy Bolivian drug lord named Alejandro Sosa (Paul Shenar). Tony also marries Frank’s mistress, Elvira Hancock (Michelle Pfieffer), though it’s obvious from the start the the only person that Tony truly loves is his sister, Gina (Mary Elizabeth Mastrantonio). Anyway, it all eventually leads to a lot of violence and a lot of death. Even F. Murray Abraham ends up getting tossed out of a helicopter, which is unfortunate since his character was a lot of fun.

Scarface is a famous film, largely because of Oliver Stone’s quotable dialogue and the no holds barred direction of Brian DePalma. However, I think that people get so caught up on the fact that this is a classic gangster film that they miss the fact that Scarface is also an extremely dark comedy. It satirizes the excess of the 80s. Once Tony reaches the top of the underworld, he becomes a parody of the nouveau riche. He moves into a gigantic house and proceeds to decorate it in the most tasteless way possible and there’s something oddly charming about this crude, not particularly bright man getting excited over the fact that he can finally afford to buy a tiger. Towards the end of the film, there’s a scene where Tony rants while lounging in an indoor hot tub while Elvira languidly snorts cocaine and complains about the crudeness of his language and, at that moment, Scarface becomes a bit of a domestic comedy. Tony’s reached the top of his profession, just to discover that it takes more than a live-in tiger and a wardrobe of wide lapeled suits to achieve true happiness. So, he ends up sitting glumly in his office with a mountain of cocaine rising up in front of him. “The world is yours” may be Tony’s motto but it turns out that the world is extremely tacky. For all of his attempts to recreate himself as a wealthy and sophisticated man, Tony is still just a barely literate criminal with a nasty scar and a sour disposition. The only thing he’s gotten for all of his ruthless ambition is an order of ennui with a cocaine appetizer.

I’ve always found Brian DePalma to be an uneven director. He has a very distinct style and sometimes that style is perfectly suited to the story that he’s telling (i.e., Carrie) and sometimes, all of that style just seems to get in the way (i.e. The Fury). Scarface, however, is the ideal story for DePalma’s over-the-top aesthetic. DePalma’s style may be excessive but Scarface is a film about excess so it’s a perfect fit. For that matter, you could say the same thing about Oliver Stone’s screenplay. Stone has since stated that he was using almost as much cocaine as Tony Montana while he wrote the script. The end result of the combination of Stone’s script, DePalma’s hyperactive direction, Pacino’s overpowering lead performance, and Giorgio Moroder’s propulsive score is a film that feels as if every minute is fueled by cocaine. It’s not just a film that’s about drugs. It’s also a film that feels like a drug.

Scarface is a big movie. It runs nearly three hours, following Tony from his arrival in the United States to his final moments in his mansion, taking hundreds of bullets while grandly announcing that he’s still standing. (Even after all of the bad things that Tony has done — poor Manny! — it’s impossible not to admire his refusal to go down.) It’s also a difficult movie to review, largely because almost everyone’s seen it and already has an opinion. Personally, I think the film gets off to a strong start. I think the scenes of Tony ruthlessly taking control of Frank’s empire are perfectly handled and I love the scenes where Pacino and Steven Bauer just bounce dialogue off of each other. They’re like a comedy team who commits murder on the side. I also loved the “Take it to the limit” montage, which belongs in the 80s Cinema Hall of Fame. At the same time, I think the final third of the movie drags a bit and that Tony’s sudden crisis of conscience when he sees that a man that he’s supposed to murder has a family feels a bit forced. It also bothers me that Elvira just vanishes from the film. At the very least, the audience deserved more of an explanation as to where she disappeared to.

But no matter! Flaws and all, Scarface is a violent satire that holds up surprisingly well. Al Pacino’s unhinged performance as Tony Montana is rightly considered to be iconic. Pacino’s gives such a powerhouse performance that it’s easy to forget that the rest of the cast is pretty impressive as well. I particularly liked the wonderfully sleazy work of F. Murray Abraham and Paul Shenar. That said, my favorite character in the film remains Elvira, if just because her clothes were to die for and she just seemed so incredibly bored with all of the violent men in her life. She goes from being bored with Frank to being bored with Tony and how can you not admire someone who, even when surrounded by all Scarface’s excess, just refuse to care?

Scarface is an offer that you can’t refuse.

Previous Offers You Can’t (or Can) Refuse:

A Force of One (1979, directed by Paul Aaron)

Posted on March 10, 2020 by Jedadiah Leland

Someone is targeting a squad of undercover narcotics detectives, killing them by taking them by surprise and breaking their necks before they even have a chance fight back. Lt. Dunne (Clu Gulager) doesn’t like seeing his best detectives getting murdered so he orders all of them — including Mandy Rust (Jennifer O’Niell) and Rollins (Superfly himself, Ron O’Neal) — to take martial arts training so that they can defend themselves. And who better to train them than karate champ and dojo owner, Matt Logan (Chuck Norris)? The no-nonsense Logan teaches the detectives a few moves and even starts a tentative romance with Mandy. But when his adopted son (played by future director Eric Laneuville) is murdered by the drug dealers, Logan goes from being a teacher to being an avenger.

Since today is Chuck Norris’s 80th birthday, it only seems appropriate to review one of Chuck Norris’s better films. A Force of One was made at a time when Chuck was still trying to make the transition from being the karate instructor to the star to being a star himself. Norris had been disappointed by his previous few starring vehicles, all of which strangely played down Norris’s martial arts skills. After his friend and student, Steve McQueen, told Chuck that he needed to specialize in playing strong, silent types, Norris followed his advise with A Force Of One, which features considerably less dialogue than Norris’s previous films but also a lot more fighting.

Though the character may be named Matt Logan, Chuck Norris is basically playing himself in A Force of One. In the scenes where he’s training the detectives and talking about why he’s personally so opposed to drugs, Chuck comes across as so earnest that it doesn’t matter that he’s not much of an actor. What he’s always lacked in range, Chuck makes up for in general badassery and A Force Of One features him at his most badass. Chuck’s final fight with the ninja assassin is one of his best.

Jennifer O’Neill got top billing in A Force Of One and she and Chuck actually have decent romantic chemistry. She seems to bring him a little bit out of his shell and she’s also actually believable as a tough cop. Because this was early in Chuck’s career and the script was co-written by police procedural specialist Ernest Tidyman, A Force Of One spends as much time following round the other cops as it does with Chuck and the squad’s camaraderie is believable. The cops are all played by good character actors like Ron O’Neal, Clu Gulager, Pepe Serna, and James Whitmore Jr. and they all give pretty good performance while, at the same time, not upstaging Chuck.

One final note: There’s a scene where Chuck and Jennifer O’Neill are in an evidence room. Keep an eye out for a box that is labeled K. Reeves. That’s a reference to director Paul Aaron’s stepson, Keanu Reeves, who worked as a production assistant on this film.

The German version of A Force Of One

Film Review: American Me (1992, directed by Edward James Olmos)

Posted on June 1, 2019 by Jedadiah Leland

American Me tells the story of Montoya Santana (Edward James Olmos). Conceived during the Zoot Suit Riots of the 1940s, Santana is first arrested when he’s just 14 years old. It’s only a breaking-and-entering charge but, on his first night in juvenile hall, Santana is raped by another inmate. When Santana retaliates by murdering his rapist, his fate is set. As soon as he’s 18, he’s transferred to Folsom Prison but, by that time, he and his friend J.D. (William Forsythe) have already formed what will become La Eme, the Mexican Mafia. Running things from their cells, Santana and J.D. not only control the prison’s drug trade but they also keep an eye on who, from their old neighborhood, is going to be joining them behind bars. Santana establishes early on that the punishment for any sign of weakness or disloyalty is death.

When Santana is finally released from prison, he finds that the world has changed since he was first incarcerated. La Eme has become powerful both inside and outside of prison and nearly everyone in Santana’s old neighborhood looks up to him. But Santana, himself, is lost. In prison, Santana was feared and respected but, on the outside, he’s a 34 year-old man who has never had a job or a relationship. He’s never even learned how to drive.

After meeting and falling in love with Julie (Evelina Fernandez) and seeing firsthand the damage that the drug trade is doing to his community, Santana starts to have second thoughts about La Eme. But, according to the rules that he previously established, trying to leave La Eme is punishable by death.

American Me is a classic gangster film and I’m always surprised that it doesn’t have a bigger following than it does. Along with starring in the film, Olmos made his directorial debut with American Me and he provides an unflinchingly brutal look at the drug trade and the violence that goes along with it. Olmos was allowed to film inside Folsom Prison and even used actual prisoners are extras, bringing a touch of neorealist verisimilitude to the prison scenes. Early on, there’s a sequence that follows a baggie of heroin from one orifice to another until it finally reaches it destination in the prison. It leaves you with no doubt that if people are willing to go through that much trouble to get drugs, it’s going to take something more than just zero tolerance laws to dissuade them.

Once Santana is released, Olmos does a good job, as both an actor and director, of showing just how lost he is. In prison, Santana was in charge and feared but, when dealing with people in the real world, he’s just as awkward as he was when he was a teenager on his way to juvenile hall. Olmos gives a tightly-wound, subtle performance as a man who is as much a prisoner of his outlook as he is of the state of California.

The men who served as the real-life inspiration for Olmos’s film were reportedly outraged by American Me. They weren’t upset by the film’s portrayal of the drug trade or their callous disregard for the members of their community. Instead, the film’s crime was suggesting that their organization was founded by someone who had been previously raped in prison. (That Santana subsequently killed his rapist made no difference.) Three people associated with the Mexican Mafia, all of whom has served as consultants to American Me, were subsequently murdered in the days immediately following the release of the film.

As for Edward James Olmos, he has remained busy as an actor. One generation got know him on Miami Vice and then the next came to know him from Battlestar Galactica. He’s subsequently directed four other films. For me, his strongest work, as both an actor and a director, remains American Me.