Stripes (1981, directed by Ivan Reitman)


Bill Murray and Harold Ramis join the army.

Wait, that can’t be right, can it?  Bill Murray and Harold Ramis were cinematic anarchists.  Early in his career, Bill Murray was the ultimate smart aleck slacker who did not have any respect for authority.  Harold Ramis was hardly a slacker but he came across as someone more likely to be marching on the Pentagon than guarding it.  Stripes is one of the ultimate examples of a comedy where the laughs come from things  that don’t seem to go together suddenly going together.

John Winger (Murray) at least has a reason to join the army.  He has a dead end job.  He has just broken up with his girlfriend.  The country appears to be at peace so why not spend four years in the Army?  It’s harder to understand why John’s friend, Russell (Ramis), also decides to enlist, other than to hang out with John.  Along with Ox (John Candy), Cruiser (John Diehl), Psycho (Conrad Dunn), and Elm0 (Judge Reinhold), they enlist and go through basic training under the watchful eye of Sgt. Hulka (Warren Oates).  John and Russell go from treating everything like a joke to invading East Germany in a tank that’s disguised as an RV.  They also meet the two sexiest and friendliest MPs in the service, Stella (P.J. Soles) and Louise (Sean Young).  Russell goes from being an proto-hippie who teaches ESL to asking John if he thinks he would make a good officer.  John goes from not taking anything seriously to picking up a machine gun and rescuing his fellow soldiers.

It’s a comedy that shouldn’t work but it does.  It’s actually one of my favorite comedies, full of memorable lines (“Lighten up, Frances.”), and stupidly funny situations.  The cast is full of future comedy legends and P.J. Soles shows that she deserved to be a bigger star.  This was early in Bill Murray’s film career and he was still largely getting by on his SNL persona but, in his confrontations with Hulka, Murray got a chance to show that he could handle drama.  With all the comedic talent in the film, it’s Warren Oates who gets the biggest laughs because he largely plays his role straight.  Sgt. Hulka is a drill sergeant who cares about his men and who knows how to inspire and teach  but that doesn’t mean he’s happy about having to deal with a collection of misfits.  (Watch his face when Cruiser says he enlisted so he wouldn’t get drafted.)

The movie does get strange when the action goes from the U.S. to Germany.  What starts out as Animal-House-In-The-Army instead becomes an almost straight action movie and the movie itself sometimes feels like a recruiting video.  Join the Army and maybe you’ll get to steal an RV with PJ Soles.  That would have been enough to get me to enlist back in the day.  But the combination of Murray, Ramis, and Oates makes Stripes a comedy that can be watched over and over again.

SHANE (The TV Series) – Episode 4: An Echo of Anger (aired October 1st, 1966)


Kemp Spicer (Warren Oates) rides into town and runs into Marian Starett (Jill Ireland) and her father-in-law Tom Starett (Tom Tully) who are there visiting the local blacksmith. Spicer likes what he sees when he looks at Marian, and proceeds to make some creepy advances. He then asks if they know a guy named Shane. When they ask Spicer why he wants to know, he says that him and his family are going to kill him. After Marian and Tom tell Shane (David Carradine) about what they were told, Shane heads into town. He wants to know why they want to kill him, as well as keep the Spicers away from the Starett ranch. When he arrives at Sam Grafton’s saloon, Boon Spicer (Charles Kuenstie) tells him that they are there to get vengeance for Shane killing their brother Joey four years earlier in Abilene. Shane never killed anyone in Abilene so he knows that someone is mistaken, or just flat out lying. Soon other members of the Spicer family arrive in town, led by their Bible-quoting uncle Joshua Spicer (Cliff Osmond). Shane knows he’s going to have to take on these men even though he’s innocent of their family member’s death. He just wants to make sure they don’t go out to the Starett ranch and put the family in danger. 

Episode 4 of Shane has our biggest co-star yet, in Warren Oates. It’s fun seeing his Kemp Spicer creep around making threats against Shane, making advances towards Marian, and then questioning whether or not they’re even after the right guy. Cliff Osmond is memorable and interesting as Uncle Joshua Spicer who puts their family honor above everything else. This episode also sees Shane getting some help as he takes on the Spicer clan in the final shootout. This help comes from Tom Starett and Rufe Ryker (Bert Freed), the local foe of the family. I don’t expect this means Ryker has turned good, but he definitely prefers Shane over those “hillbillies” he ran out of the area years earlier. Finally, we continue to learn of Marian’s feelings for Shane in this episode. At one point, she’s willing to leave the entire ranch behind if it keeps Shane safe. Shane doesn’t hear her say this, but her father-in-law remarks that he never realized she loved Shane that much. 

I found episode 4 to be an entertaining episode. It features good performances from interesting co-stars. It also makes a good point about how an innocent lie can take on a life of its own and lead to unintended consequences. I’ll be looking forward to Episode 5!  

Bonus Horror on TV: The Night America Trembled (dir by Tom Donovan)


Filmed in 1957 for a television program called Westinghouse Studio One, The Night America Trembled is a dramatization of the night that Orson Welles terrified America with his radio adaptation of War of The Worlds.  

For legal reasons, Orson Welles is not portrayed nor is his name mentioned.  Instead, the focus is mostly on the people listening to the broadcast and getting the wrong idea.  That may sound like a comedy but The Night America Trembled takes itself fairly seriously.  Even pompous old Edward R. Murrow shows up to narrate the film, in between taking drags off a cigarette.

Clocking in at a brisk 60 minutes, The Night America Trembled is an interesting recreation of that October 30th.  Among the people panicking: a group of people in a bar who, before hearing the broadcast, were debating whether or not Hitler was as crazy as people said he was, a babysitter who goes absolutely crazy with fear, and a group of poker-playing college students.  If, like me, you’re a frequent viewer of TCM, you may recognize some of the faces in the large cast: Ed Asner, James Coburn, John Astin, Warren Oates, and Warren Beatty all make early appearances.

It’s an interesting little historical document and you can watch it below!

A Blast From The Past: The Night America Trembled (dir by Tom Donovan)


Filmed in 1957 for a television program called Westinghouse Studio One, The Night America Trembled is a dramatization of the night in 1938 when Orson Welles’s adaptation of H.G. Wells’s The War of the Worlds reportedly caused a panic amongst listeners.

For legal reasons, Orson Welles is not portrayed nor is his name mentioned.  Instead, the focus is mostly on the people listening to the broadcast and getting the wrong idea.  That may sound like a comedy but The Night America Trembled takes itself fairly seriously, complete with Edward R. Murrow narrating and taking drags off of a cigarette.

Clocking in at a brisk 60 minutes, The Night America Trembled is an interesting recreation of that October 30th.  Among the people panicking are a large collection of future stars and character actors.  Ed Asner, James Coburn, John Astin, Warren Oates, and Warren Beatty all make early appearances.

It’s an interesting historical document and you can watch it below!

A Scene That I Love: Sgt. Hulka And Winger Have A Talk In Stripes


Today would have been Warren Oates’s 95th birthday.  When Oates died in 1982, he was only 53 years old but he left behind a rich and varied filmography and worked with everyone from Sam Peckinpah to Monte Hellman to Terrence Malick to Steven Spielberg.

One of Oates’s final and most popular performance was as Sgt. Hulka in Ivan Reitman’s Stripes.  Hulka was the ultimate drill sergeant, determined to get his men into shape and proving that he could even make soldiers out of Bill Murray, Harold Ramis, and John Candy.  Originally, Sgt. Hulka was supposed to die halfway through the film was Reitman was so impressed with Oates’s performance that the script was changed to allow Hulka to make it all the way through.

In the scene below, Oates shows what a great dramatic actor he was, even when he was appearing in an otherwise light comedy.  He brings out the best not only in himself but also from his co-star, Bill Murray.

Don’t mess with Hulka!

And lighten up, Francis.

True Grit: A Further Adventure (1978, directed by Richard T. Heffron)


Warren Oates as the legendary, one-eyed old west lawman Rooster Cogburn?

That was the idea behind True Grit: A Further Adventure, a made-for-TV movie that was meant to serve as a pilot for a potential television series.  The film is a direct sequel to 1969’s True Grit and it features Warren Oates stepping into the role of Rooster Cogburn, the character that John Wayne famously played in the original film and who Jeff Bridges later played in the 2010 remake.  In A Further Adventure, Cogburn is once again hired to escort teenager Mattie Ross (Lisa Pelikan) across the country.  Along the way, Rooster gambles away all their money, meets an attractive widow (Lee Meriwether), and gets a job in a mining town.  With the help of Mattie, he also gets a job as a bounty hunter and the two of them go after a group of wanted outlaws.  Mattie tries to reform Rooster and make him act like more of a traditional western hero while Rooster drinks and gambles and complains.

I am a huge Warren Oates fan but even I have to admit that he’s miscast of Rooster Cogburn.  In both Charles Portis’s original novel and the two films that were adapted from it, Rooster was overweight and physically imposing,  He wasn’t book-smart but he was wise in the ways of the frontier.  Physically, Warren Oates is too slightly built and his trademark nervous energy feels out of place in the role of Rooster.  Wayne and Bridges were both believable as men who would draw first and ask questions later but Oates was a natural-born talker.  That’s one of the things that made him one of the best actors of the 70s but it doesn’t serve him well in the role of Rooster Cogburn.

On the plus side, Lisa Pelikan is a considerable improvement on Kim Darby in the role of Mattie, though she’s nowhere near as good as Hailee Steinfeld would later be in the 2010 film.  Lee Meriwether and Warren Oates shares some good scenes together but the film’s made-for-TV origins makes Meriwether’s overall performance feel like a special guest star diversion.  True Grit: A Further Adventure is a throw-back to the type of formulaic western television programs that were popular in the late 60s.  It’s easy to see why the pilot didn’t get picked up.  It was miscast and it was too late.  If it had aired a few years earlier, it’s possible to imagine Oates and Pelikan traveling to a different town and getting involved in a different story on a weekly basis and perhaps the role would have been changed to better suit Oates’s style of acting.  But, by 1978, television was heading in the direction of Hill Street Blues and the days of the western were over.

Unfortunately. Warren Oates would die just four years after this film aired, a tragically early passing that robbed the world of a unique actor who was in his prime.  Though Oates may not have been right for Rooster Cogburn, he will always be remembered for films like Badlands, Bring Me The Head of Alfredo Garcia, Stripes, Dillinger, and Two-Lane Blacktop.  He was truly a one of a kind talent.

Blue Thunder (1983, directed by John Badham)


Frank Murphy (Roy Scheider) is a Vietnam vet-turned-cop who pilots a police helicopter for the LAPD.  Every night, he and his partner, Richard Lymangood (Daniel Stern) fly over Los Angeles, helping to keep the peace and peeping on anyone undressing in a high-rise apartment.

Murphy is selected to serve as the test pilot for what is described as being the world’s most advanced military helicopter, Blue Thunder.  Blue Thunder is so advanced that the pilot can control the gun turrets just by turning his head and it’s also been supplied with the latest state of the art surveillance equipment.  The pilot of a Blue Thunder can literally spy on anyone while listening to and recording their conversations.  With the Olympics coming up, the city of Los Angeles wants to test out the Blue Thunder as a way to control the crowds and prevent crime during the Games.

Murphy may be impressed by the helicopter but he has his reservations about the program.  He immediately sees that Blue Thunder could be a dangerous tool in the wrong hands.  Those wrong hands would belong to Col. Cochrane (Malcolm McDowell), who was Blue Thunder’s first pilot and also Murphy’s commanding officer during Vietnam.  Murphy is still haunted by the atrocities that he saw committed by Cochrane during the war.

When it turns out that Murphy was right to be suspicious of Cochrane’s intentions, the movie turns into an exciting aerial chase above Los Angeles, with Murphy in Blue Thunder, trying to outrun F-16s, heat-seeking missiles, and eventually Cochrane, who enters the chase in a Blue Thunder of his own.

I’m always surprised that Blue Thunder doesn’t have a bigger following than it does.  It’s an action classic, with a gritty performance from Roy Scheider, a villainous performance from Malcolm McDowell, and comedic relief from the always reliable Daniel Stern.  Even Warren Oates is in the movie, playing Murphy’s LAPD commander!  The script actually does have something relevant to say about the militarization of America’s police forces (and it feels downright prophetic today) and the chase scenes are all the more exciting because they were filmed in the era before CGI and have an authenticity to them that is missing from most modern action films.

Blue Thunder is a perfect example of the “don’t do this really cool thing” style of action film.  The Blue Thunder helicopter is described as being a danger to everyone in the country and the movie even ends with a note saying that real-life Blue Thunders are currently being designed.  But I don’t think anyone who has ever watched this film has thought, “I hope they stopped making those helicopters.”  Instead, this movie makes you want to have a Blue Thunder of your very own.  They’re so cool, who wouldn’t want to fly one of those things?

Lisa Reviews An Oscar Winner: In the Heat of the Night (dir by Norman Jewison)


The 1967 film, In the Heat of the Night, tells the story of two very different men.

Chief Gillespie (Rod Steiger) is the police chief of the small town of Sparta, Mississippi.  In many ways, Gillespie appears to the epitome of the bigoted Southern cop.  He’s overweight.  He loses his temper easily.  He chews a lot of gum.  He knows everyone in town and automatically distrusts anyone who he hasn’t seen before, especially if that person happens to be a black man or from the north.

Virgil Tibbs (Sidney Poitier) is a black man from the north.  He’s a detective with the Philadelphia Police Department and he’s as cool and controlled as Gillespie is temperamental and uncouth.  Tibbs has no patience for the casual racism that is epitomized by lawmen like Chief Gillespie.  When Gillespie says that Virgil is a “fancy name” for a black and asks what people call Virgil in Philadelphia, Virgil declares, “They call me Mister Tibbs!,” with an authority that leaves no doubt that he expects Gillespie to do the same.

Together …. THEY SOLVE CRIMES!

For once, that old joke is correct.  When a Chicago industrialist named Phillip Colbert is discover murdered in Sparta, Chief Gillespie heads up the investigation and, assuming that the murderer must be an outsider, orders Deputy Wood (Warren Oates) to check out the train station for any suspicious characters.  When Wood arrives at the station, he discovers Virgil standing on the platform.  Virgil is simply waiting for his train so that he can get back home to Philadelphia.  However, Wood promptly arrests him.  Gilespie accuses him of murdering Colbert, just to discover that Virgil’s a police detective from Philadelphia.

Though neither wants to work with the other, that’s exactly what Gillespie and Virgil are forced to do as they investigate Colbert’s murder.  Colbert was planning on building a factory in Sparta and his wife (Lee Grant) makes it clear that, if Sparta wants the factory and the money that comes with it, Virgil must be kept on the case.  Over the course of the investigation, Gillespie and Virgil come to a weary understanding as both of them are forced to confront their own preconceived notions about both the murder and life in Sparta.  In the end, if it’s impossible for them to truly become friends, they do develop a weary respect for each other.  That is perhaps the best that one could have hoped for in 1967.

I have to admit that it took me a few viewings before I really appreciated In the Heat of the Night.  Though this film won the Oscar for Best Picture of 1967, it’s always suffered when compared to some of the films that it beat.  One can certainly see that the film was superior to Doctor Dolittle and Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner.  But was it a better film than The Graduate or Bonnie and Clyde?  Did Rod Steiger really deserve to win Best Actor over Dustin Hoffman and Warren Beatty?  (Amazingly, Poitier wasn’t even nominated.)

To be honest, I still feel that In The Heat of the Night was probably the 3rd best of the 5 films nominated that year, superior to the condescending Guess Who’s Coming To Dinner but nowhere near as groundbreaking as Bonnie and Clyde or The Graduate.  The first time I watched In the Heat of the Night, I thought Steiger blustered a bit too much and the film’s central mystery didn’t really hold together and, to a large extent, I still feel like that.

But, at the same time, there’s a lot to appreciate about In the Heat of the Night.  On subsequent viewings, I came to better appreciate the way that director Norman Jewison, editor Hal Ashby, and cinematographer Haskwell Wexler created and maintained an atmosphere that was so thick that you can literally feel the Mississippi humidity while watching the film.  I came to appreciate the supporting cast, especially Warren Oates, Lee Grant, Scott Wilson, Anthony James, and Larry Gates.  (Gates especially makes an impression in his one scene, playing an outwardly genteel racist who nearly cries when Tibbs reacts to his slap by slapping him back.)  I also came to appreciate the fact that, while the white cop/black cop partnership has subsequently become a bit of a cliche, it was new and even controversial concept in 1967.

And finally, I came to better appreciate Sidney Poitier’s performance as Virgil.  Poitier underplays Virgil, giving a performance of tightly controlled rage.  While Steiger yells his way through the film, Poitier emphasizes that Virgil is always thinking.  As in the same year’s Guess Who’s Coming To Dinner, Poitier plays a dignified character but, here, that dignity is Virgil’s way of defying the demands and expectations of men like Gillespie.  When Virgil does strike back, it’s a cathartic moment because we understand how many times he’s had to hold back.

In the Heat of the Night may not have been the best film of 1967 but it’s still one worth watching.

Horror on TV: Thriller 2.20 “The Hollow Watcher” (dir by William F. Claxton)


Here’s one final episode of Thriller for this October’s horrorthon!

In this episode, we learn what happens when you stuff a dead body in a scarecrow.  The scarecrow stalks you!

Seriously, scarecrows are so freaky.

Enjoy!

 

An October Film Review: The Night America Trembled (dir by Tom Donovan)


Today is the 79th anniversary of Orson Welles’s infamous War of the Worlds broadcast.

In 1938, Orson Welles and the Mercury Theater of the Air performed a radio adaptation of H.G. Welles’s War of the World.  Presented as a live news program, it was one of the first mockumentaries.  It also caused a panic.  How big the panic was is open for debate.  Some say only a few people took it seriously.  Other sources say that it was a nationwide crisis.  But, regardless, Welles made history on that night.  Not only did he illustrate the power of the media but he also scared the Hell out of a lot of people.  All in all, a pretty good night…

Filmed in 1957 for a television program called Westinghouse Studio One, The Night America Trembled is a dramatization of that night.  For legal reasons, Orson Welles is not portrayed nor is his name mentioned.  Instead, the focus is mostly on the people listening to the broadcast and getting the wrong idea.  That may sound like a comedy but The Night America Trembled takes itself fairly seriously.  Even pompous old Edward R. Murrow shows up to narrate the film, in between taking drags off a cigarette.  (I enjoyed the show but, whenever Murrow showed up, I was reminded of a grumpy old teacher complaining that none of his students cared about the Spanish-American War.)

Clocking in at a brisk 60 minutes, The Night America Trembled is an interesting recreation of that October 30th.  Among the people panicking: a group of people in a bar who, before hearing the broadcast, were debating whether or not Hitler was as crazy as people said he was, a babysitter who goes absolutely crazy with fear, and a group of poker-playing college students.  If, like me, you’re a frequent viewer of TCM, you may recognize some of the faces in the large cast: Ed Asner, James Coburn, John Astin, Warren Oates, and Warren Beatty all make early appearances.

As I said, it’s an interesting little historical document and you can watch it below!

Enjoy!