Film Review: OLD BOYFRIENDS (1979, Joan Tewkesbury)

Stars: 3.8 of 5.

Running Time: 103 minutes.

Notable Cast or Crew: Written by Paul and Leonard Schrader (MISHIMA, BLUE COLLAR, THE YAKUZA). Starring Talia Shire (THE GODFATHER, ROCKY), Richard Jordan (THE FRIENDS OF EDDIE COYLE, Lynch's DUNE), John Belushi (ANIMAL HOUSE, SATURDAY NIGHT LIVE), Keith Carradine (DEADWOOD, SOUTHERN COMFORT), John Houseman (the stage, ROLLERBALL, THE FOG), P.J. Soles (ROCK 'N ROLL HIGH SCHOOL, HALLOWEEN), Buck Henry (THE MAN WHO FELL TO EARTH, TO DIE FOR), Gerrit Graham (CHILD'S PLAY 2, USED CARS, PHANTOM OF THE PARADISE). Music by David Shire (ALL THE PRESIDENT'S MEN, SHORT CIRCUIT, MONKEY SHINES).

Tagline: "...what happens when you see them again?"

Best one-liner: "I got a cameo on STARSKY AND HUTCH… wanna come out and see my Winnebago?"

Just in time for Valentine's Day, something with a romantic bent. Well, kind of.

I'm a tremendous fan of Paul Schrader, with MISHIMA: A LIFE IN FOUR CHAPTERS in serious contention as my favorite film of all time, and he's either written or directed other films that are near to my heart, like BLUE COLLAR, RAGING BULL, ROLLING THUNDER, TAXI DRIVER, AMERICAN GIGOLO, OBSESSION, CAT PEOPLE, PATTY HEARST, and so many others. I've been on sort of a quest to see the rarest films in his catalogue, and this usually involves sifting through bins of used VHS tapes and poking around in the dustier corners of the internet. For a mere $1.99, I got my hands on an early, largely unseen Schrader called OLD BOYFRIENDS. He co-wrote it with his brother Leonard, and it's directed by Joan Tewkesbury, whose major claim to fame was writing the screenplay for Robert Altman's NASHVILLE. It stars some perennial favorites, too– names like Talia Shire, Richard Jordan, Keith Carradine, John Houseman, and John Belushi. I also discovered that the film's reputation is rather weak– apparently the 117 souls who've seen it and voted on IMDb rank it a mere 4.2 out of 10. It seems to have been out of circulation for a long time, too– the VHS I obtained was manufactured in 1982, the cassette itself is sort of a discolored grey, and the original MSRP printed on the side claims $79.95! Ah, it was a different era. Regardless, knowing these few scant facts, I embarked upon OLD BOYFRIENDS. And I ended up enjoying it quite a bit.

The plot is as follows: a psychologist (Talia Shire) undergoes a self-centered identity crisis as she weathers the collapse of her marriage and decides to embark upon a road trip into her distant past, visiting her college beau (Richard Jordan), who is now a successful director of television commercials; her douchey high school boyfriend (John Belushi) who runs a garment rental business and performs in a 50's throwback band (it feels kind of like an audition for THE BLUES BROTHERS!); and the brother of her deceased middle school sweetheart (Keith Carradine), who suffers from agoraphobia and is deeply depressed. The intent of her travels seems to be self-exploration and self-knowledge, but the end result is not always positive– in some cases it involves revenge and the opening of long-ago-sutured psychological wounds. As such, some have labelled it as a man-hating tract, but that's an incredibly narrow view; Shire's character is often selfish but her behavior is not lionized (and Schrader's attraction to pariahs and unlikable protagonists has occasionally been misinterpreted as such). The whole thing has a tremendous quotidian interest– I'm not even close to being a fan of the "relationship genre," but I found the film's plot set-up to be fascinating, and its development satisfying. Tewkesbury's directorial debut is strong– atmospheric, contemplative, and specific. It doesn't rank amongst the Schrader brothers' absolute finest work, but there's great pathos and good humor, and I'm glad I was finally able to get my hands on it.

Now, onto the minutiae, as I am wont to do:
–There's an amazing melodramatic soundtrack by David Shire which infuses the film with dose of seriousness and a dose of camp, both of which work in the film's favor.
–Buck Henry shows up as a fidgety Private Investigator whose office overlooks Grauman's Chinese theater. STAR WARS is on the marquee.
–In a hotel room, Shire watches a 50's TV show called THE CONTINENTAL, whereupon the viewer, via first-person POV cinematography, is treated to a date with an unsavory man. I had no idea that the popular Christopher Walken SNL skit… was a remake!
–Gerrit Graham appears as an awesomely sleazy actor on Richard Jordan's set who hits on Ms. Shire, insisting "I got a cameo on STARSKY AND HUTCH… wanna come out and see my Winnebago?"
–And finally, the idea of Keith Carradine being the brother of her dead middle school sweetheart begs the question…. was said paramour DAVID Carradine???

Nearly four stars.

-Sean Gill

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Film Review: SGT. PEPPER'S LONELY HEARTS CLUB BAND (1978, Michael Schultz)

Stars: 3.2 of 5.
Running Time: 113 minutes.
Notable Cast or Crew: Peter Frampton, The Bee Gees, George Burns, Donald Pleasence, Billy Preston; Earth, Wind, & Fire; Steve Martin, Paul Nicholas (Cousin Kevin from TOMMY), Frankie Howerd (THE LADYKILLERS, CARRY ON DOCTOR), Carel Struycken (TWIN PEAKS, THE ADDAMS FAMILY), Aerosmith, and cameo appearances by Keith Carradine, Wolfman Jack, Carol Channing, Rick Derringer, Donovan, Tina Turner, Leif Garrett, Heart, Curtis Mayfield, Bonnie Raitt, Frankie Valli, Gwen Verdon, Bobby Womack, Hank Williams Jr., Johnny Winter, Sha-Na-Na, Del Shannon, Wilson Pickett, Anita Pointer, Robert Palmer. Featuring music written by John Lennon, Paul McCartney, and George Harrison. Production design by Brian Eatwell (THE MAN WHO FELL TO EARTH, GODSPELL). Set decoration by Marvin March (STAR TREK's original series, LETHAL WEAPON, THEY LIVE, CAN'T STOP THE MUSIC). Costumes by May Routh (THE MAN WHO FELL TO EARTH, BEING THERE, RONIN). Directed by Michael Schultz (THE LAST DRAGON, CAR WASH).
Tag-line: "Only their music could conquer the forces of evil."
Best one-liner: "We hate love! We hate joy! We love money!"

Largely considered one of the worst films ever made, SGT. PEPPER'S LONELY HEARTS CLUB BAND does not quite deserve the hideous reputation which it has earned, yet it certainly is one of the more outlandish musicals to come out of the 1970's.

An inspiration to everyone from Julie Taymor (ACROSS THE UNIVERSE) to Menahem Golan (THE APPLE), SGT. PEPPER tells the tale of Heartland, USA, a quaint little town full of gazebos, hot-air balloons, the benevolent guardianship of the Mayor Mr. Kite (George Burns), and wondrous, heart-warming music courtesy of one Sergeant Pepper. Sergeant Pepper & his Lonely Hearts Club band have attempted to bestow- through the power of song- peace and love upon the nation from WWI through the 1970's. Midway through his latest concert he dies and is quickly replaced by the new Sergeant Pepper Lonely Hearts Club Band, depicted by Peter Frampton and the Bee-Gees.

The new band heads to Los Angeles, where they sign a deal with sleazy record producer Donald Pleasence. The malevolent, mean Mr. Mustard (Frankie Howerd) takes advantage of their absence in Heartland,

Mean Mr. Mustard massaged by mechanical masseuses.

steals the original band's instruments, and distributes them to his cronies: Dr. Maxwell (Steve Martin), The Sun King (Alice Cooper), and the Future Villain Band (Aerosmith). Frampton and the Bee-Gees must fight for what's right, defeat the malefactors, and retrieve their instruments. Which they do. Then, there's an all-star reprise of the main title featuring more rock stars and personalities than you can shake a stick at. That's about it.

Judging the film is difficult- it's something of a soggy mess, but it frequently entertains, features some well-executed set and production design, and has a ridiculous slew of celebrity cameos. So I have to give it a vague thumbs-up, but all the time I'm keeping that thumb within striking distance of the fast-forward button (I mean, this thing runs almost 2 hours). Anyway, without further ado:

TEN FANTASTICAL OCCURENCES THAT MY FEEBLE MIND COULD NOT EVEN HAVE BEGUN TO FATHOM...until I saw SGT. PEPPER'S LONELY HEARTS CLUB BAND:


#1. The Bee Gees fight dancing against proto-LITTLE SHOP OF HORRORS Steve Martin, playing Dr. Maxwell (Silver Hammer), a scene which culminates with

Martin torturing the shit out of Peter Frampton with tiny, electrified hammers! Talk about FRAMPTON COMES ALIVE!


#2. George Burns rocking out to "Fixing a Hole" and doing the 'ole soft shoe with some children.



#3. The giant from TWIN PEAKS acting as Mr. Mustard's agent, and receiving cash flow from mustard-colored-clothing-clad hookers (!?).


#4. Now "Nowhere Man" ain't exactly the most rockingist song ever committed to vinyl, but I don't think anything can possibly prepare you for the Frampton and the 'Gees cover version, which can only be described as 'utterly testicle shriveling.' You may need to watch EXTREME PREJUDICE or some Bob Mitchum movies right afterward in order to preserve your sense of self.


#5. Alice Cooper turning "Because" into a horror ballad capable of brainwashing boy scouts (really- it's a plot point).

And he doesn't even do all that much to it- he just adds his patented, smartassed, witch-like vocal intonation, and it works beautifully.

#6. Stephen Tyler's arms pinned behind his back by a raging Frampton, who looks as if he's wearing some kind of figure skating costume! The script called for Frampton to fling the noted Aerosmither to his death, but Tyler flat-out refused to be killed, even indirectly, by the likes of Frampton. And so 'Strawberry Fields,' Frampton's love interest, pops in and sort of pushes Tyler off the precipice


where he lands, crumpled and lifeless, upon hundred dollar bills emblazoned with his own image. It's simply visual poetry.


#7. A mustachioed Alice Cooper strangling the shit out of Robin Gibb and then getting punched out by Barry! (And landing facedown into a conveniently-placed cream pie.)


Look at the intensity on Barry Gibb's face. This is one Bee Gee you don't wanna mess around with... lest you be K.O.'d!


#8. Vaguely evil record exec Donald Pleasence encouraging Frampton to drown his sorrows in... the world's largest beer glasses!

Look at the smarm there on Donald. He's even got a gold tooth to match those chains. And the inspiration for 'Mr. Boogalow' in THE APPLE has never been more apparent. (Though some might argue that Vladek Sheybal took the character to unprecedented heights!)

#9. Again, Donald Pleasence. Pleasence freeform grooving and twirling in a sort of cowboy-leisure suit,

and then later belting out a rather curious version of "I Want You (She's So Heavy)."

Despite any misgivings about this film, I must say that I think the world is a richer and deeper place now that I've seen Donald Pleasence cut a rug.

#10. Keith Carradine, Carol Channing, Tina Turner, and God knows how many others, singing and swaying in soulful harmony to the big show-stopping, show-stomping reprise of "Sgt. Pepper."

Now I know that Keith was included because of his vocal talents so well displayed in Altman's NASHVILLE, but now (after watching him play a number of shrewd-operatin' badasses in everything from SOUTHERN COMFORT to DEADWOOD) seeing him in a silky, unbuttoned shirt, bobbing and shakin' it behind Tina Turner and Carol Channing (who are locked in a battle to see who can pull more focus), is, in short, ridiculous.

A little over three stars. I'll say it's for masochists, Beatles-schadenfreude enthusiasts, and Alice Cooper, Donald Pleasence, and Keith Carradine completists. Ennn-joy...

-Sean Gill

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Film Review: WILD BILL (1995, Walter Hill)

Stars: 2.7 of 5.
Running Time: 98 minutes.
Notable Cast or Crew: Jeff Bridges (STARMAN, THUNDERBOLT AND LIGHTFOOT, CUTTER'S WAY), Ellen Barkin (THE ADVENTURES OF BUCKAROO BANZAI, DOWN BY LAW), John Hurt (I, CLAUDIUS; THE HIT), Diane Lane (THE COTTON CLUB, RUMBLE FISH), Keith Carradine (NASHVILLE, SOUTHERN COMFORT), David Arquette (THE OUTSIDERS TV series, SCREAM), Christina Applegate (DON'T TELL MOM THE BABYSITTER'S DEAD, MARS ATTACKS!), James Remar (48 HRS., QUIET COOL), Bruce Dern (THE GREAT GATSBY, SILENT RUNNING). Based on the book DEADWOOD by Peter Dexter and the play by Thomas Babe.
Tag-line: "Take a walk on the wild side."
Best one-liner: "You ought to know better than to touch another man's hat."

Where to begin, WILD BILL? Let's start with the good. I'm a Walter Hill fan. I'm a fan of most of the talented, eclectic cast whose members include the commanding and mustachioed Jeff Bridges, the eloquent John Hurt, the soothingly intense Keith Carradine, the mysterious and sultry Diane Lane, and the lovably psychotic James Remar. There's fast and furious, well-choreographed gunfights which recall the quick-drawin', squinty-eyed triumphs of Sergio Leone.

There's a scene where Wild Bill shoots a shot glass off the back of a hapless pooch while he aims backwards, through a mirror.

There's Keith Carradine (who later played perhaps filmdom's finest Wild Bill on HBO's DEADWOOD) as Buffalo Bill in a zany scene showcasing Wild Bill's legendarily awful acting in the money-grubbing play 'SCOUTS OF THE PLAINS.'

There's a genius scene depicting a geriactric-style gunfight between a crippled Bruce Dern...

...and a smart-assed Wild Bill, who's had himself tied to a chair to make it a fair fight.

In fact, Dern practically steals the movie playing this wheelchair-bound, irascible, grizzled madman-

and it's a role that he's pretty much (BIG LOVE, MONSTER, THE ASTRONAUT FARMER) been playing ever since. (And to be fair, he was generally playing it before, too.)

We got John Hurt narrating and raising eyebrows and classin' up the joint

and even getting punched out by James Remar.

We got Remar bustin' in and and bellowing the rhetorical question, "A FIVE DOLLAR WHORE'S GONNA TELL ME ABOUT STREET TRASH?!" to a hooker played by...uh, Christina Applegate.

Wait, that must be a typo. Surely I meant to type 'Susan Tyrrell' or 'Candy Clark' or 'Grace Zabriskie'...but no such luck. It's not all peaches and cream, ladies and gentlemen. Christina Applegate is indeed in this movie, and though it pains me to say it, she's far from being the most absolutely, hair-raisingly loco element included in the film.

Now would probably be a good time to mention that WILD BILL is sort of structured like THE DOORS. We flash-forward and flash-back and wash out to events throughout Wild Bill's life, as if trapped in a interminable time warp, an ouroboros of violence and blood and dirt and whiskey. That's fine. It establishes the sense of violence that pervades Wild Bill's very being. But things start to get a little wonky as soon as we got drug trips and opium hallucinations and use of high-contrast black-and-white video art-lookin' sequences full of bizarre, Oliver Stone-style Native American mysticism


which, for all intents and purposes, are unwatchable until Diane Lane shows up, at which point they become only barely watchable.

Diane Lane: a real dish, even in high-contrast video-art-installation-style sequences.

All of this would be excusable if they were going the all-out arthouse route, but then we have pandering- I assume to the studio, but who knows– altering the historical record in a manner which can only be described as "thoroughly cockamamie." 'Colorado' Charlie Utter inexplicably becomes Charlie Prince (the John Hurt character). Jack McCall (Bill's assassin) is no longer a young, poker-luvin' douche who impulsively shot Bill in the back over a card game and a subsequent gesture of (quite possibly mocking) kindness. He's a pretty-boy (...played by David Arquette) avenging the honor of his mother, Susannah (Diane Lane), who has Bill at gunpoint about 3,000 times during the course of the movie but only acts on it during the finale.

Now, the historical McCall, most likely trying to save his own ass, claimed that Wild Bill had killed his brother and he was seeking revenge, but to tie it in with the Susannah Moore/Davis Tutt incident is not only kinda historically irresponsible, but it also works to the detriment of the story Hill is telling, unless he wanted the subject of his film to be a heavily fictionalized version of Jack McCall. Anyway, it doesn't really matter- the combining, editing, and altering of historical figures in cinema occurs with such frequency that it hardly bears ment–

CALAMITY

JANE

HOT

TUB

I like Ellen Barkin. I really like Ellen Barkin. Nobody can say that I don't like Ellen Barkin. I guess what I mean to say is that she doesn't quite look the part.

Then again, I suppose that her depiction is something that Hollywood has always struggled with:

So, forget I said anything. Thank God, though, at least they didn't s–



...

...

...

...Well, let's end things on a positive note, shall we? Here's a clip I uploaded of James Remar, possibly worn down from multiple takes, giving Wild Bill's hat a hearty, dramatic thwack.


-Sean Gill

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