Showing posts with label Brian DePalma. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Brian DePalma. Show all posts

7.01.2025

1980: Give the past the slip


"The only thing new in the world is the history you do not know."
- Harry S. Truman

The main reason I started exploring these anniversary milestones was as an excuse to reminisce about the major pop culture events that I was there for; a means to keep a journal for the stuff I should've journaled the first time. Lately I've been moving away from my own timeline into years I have no emotional connection to - either because I was too young to remember or I just hadn't yet been born. As a result it's forced me to get more philosophical and abstract (and probably pretentious) about trying to conure up some objective sense of nostalgia for all of us to share, but really it's just my lust for history gussied up into some Kumbaya singalong we can all participate in. It sucks showing up to the party only to find out you missed its peak -- and so I'm here to learn about the past, and I'm condemning myself to repeat it. 
 

Same as the start of any decade (in the 20th century at least), the fashions and feels of the previous era bleed into the next one in nebulous ways. TV shows like Little on the Prairie and Alice were still cracking the Top 10 in ratings, Barbra Streisand and Bob Seger were topping the charts in record sales, and popular songs like "Upside Down" by Diana Ross and "Funkytown" by Lipps Inc. felt very much like a culture we were about to leave behind. But while some things remained as jarring reminders of the 1970s, there were plenty of totally tubular debuts that became synonymous with The Reagan Era. Pac-Man and The Rubik's Cube were released globally. U2, Iron Maiden, and The Sugarhill Gang released their debut albums. Magnum P. I. and Bosom Buddies premiered. John Lennon was killed. Mount St. Helens erupted. The Iraq-Iran War began. And, Ronald Regan was elected President of the U.S. The aftertaste of bell-bottoms and Disco was certainly still swishing around the zeitgeist, but the decade of brash greed and big hair was breakin' its way into history one power move at a time. 
 

In today's culture, "The 1980s" has practically become a brandname as recognizable and marketable as Nike and Nintendo. The phrase itself conjures up a lotta stylized imagery and audio that, while they may be clichés, are all rooted in very real aesthetics/institutions/scenarios; you could've walked out of a matinee of Friday the 13th as you cranked Gary Numan on your Sony Walkman on your way to 7-Eleven for some Jell-O Pudding Pops, all before the end of Year Zero. But unless you were entirely hip and persistently progressive, you were still riding the vibes of the 70s; with Carter still in office and The Doobies still on the dial it was hard to tell which way was forward. Surprisingly, one avenue that seemed to be largely directionless was the movies. 
 

Mainstream American Cinema is like chips & dip to me - particularly when I was younger. That's actually true for most of the planet, and it was especially true in the big splashy era that was The 80s. But from my own point of view, the razzle-dazzle was not yet present at the beginning of the decade, and frankly the hard-hitting originality of The 70s had also faded away - at least as far as Hollywood was concerned. I will point out that three monumental, iconic American Comedies were released that year, and I suppose that's a pretty impressive legacy. But for me, 1980 was most notable for European Horror: an intermingled parade of cannibals, zombies, witches, and ghosts that found their way to The States - in fictional and literal terms. There were a few significant shocks from the U.S. but many of them were incredibly tame and immensely boring - especially when held up against the splatter that would inspire the eventual subgenre that became "80s Horror" and turned me and everyone else in my generation into confirmed ghost story and horror film addicts. 

- Paul



1. The Fog
In a time when "spookiness" began to fall out of favor, a master of the medium was gaining momentum, and his grasp of mood may've peaked right here; when a writer/director also composes their own music score, you're entirely at the mercy of their world. It's so fitting that it's an honest-to-god campfire tale because I grew up with this movie and so its urban legend angle still works on me with those same childhood chills. 

2. STAR WARS: Episode V - The Empire Strikes Back
The original movie brought fun and optimism to the gritty 1970s cinematic landscape. Ironically, its sequel brought forboding bitter pills to kick off the safe decade of happily-ever-afters. But this was most exciting because this world was still brand new; unlike Superman or James Bond, we couldn't be sure how menacing it could get, and they wielded that power like a Master Jedi. 

3. City of the Living Dead
It's my favorite zombie movie - if you can even call them that; they seem to have a variety of super powers that allows them to move through walls and eviscerate victims telepathically. (And you thought running zombies were trouble.) There's so much grotesque creativity in this movie and it's executed with such excess that it's nearly a Comedy. It goes hard, in a way mainstream Film no longer does. 

4. The Shining
There's barely a single frame in the whole picture that isn't recognizable and/or renowned -- even the dissolves and title cards are championed. I call attention to that because that's exactly how is should be; you could say Kubrick quite possibly had an eye for detail, but I'd be quick to nominate this movie as his most meticulous in terms of poise and precision. Like a spine-tingling symphony. 

5. The Blues Brothers
You'd undoubtedly find this in the Comedy section, but I'll be damned if it isn't one of the best Action Movies of the year and maybe all time. Even the music (which is aces) takes a backseat to the car carnage that honestly gets overlooked on all the Car Chase Movie lists. 

6. Airplane!
Like Strangelove before it, this parody has proven to have more longevity than the material it's spoofing. The funniest part is that I didn't know any of the Airport movies when I was little so I actually got caught up in the drama of the food poisoning, war flashbacks, and glue sniffing. 

7. Caddyshack
Save for its tedious youth subplot it's like a greatest hits album of 1980 comedians - or at least one of those cereal variety packs. Even as a kid I thought the gopher puppet was lame, and as an adult I've finally reached the point where I think Ted Knight gives the funniest performance. 

8. Zombie Holocaust
Zombies vs. Cannibals: everyone loses, the audience wins! Not to be confused with Dr. Butcher M.D. which is a shorter cut of this film and does not feature Nico Fidenco's music - which is notable to me as it's in my Top 5 movie scores of all time. 

9. Times Square
If I didn't know any better I'd swear this movie was made just as an excuse to showcase Robin Johnson's virtuoso acting abilities; I'm never entirely convinced this isn't some documentary about this vibrant troubled teen and they just built a story around her (accompanied by one of my Top 5 soundtracks of all time). 

10. The Elephant Man
Regardless of costumes and context, most Period Films can never fully disguise their actual year of production. Watching this movie I'm only ever convinced I'm looking at Victorian England -- at the very least there's nothing here that indicates "Another One Bites the Dust" was on the radio while it played in theaters. 

11. Canibal Apocalypse
A truly bombastic title for a movie that is actually pretty intimate and illuminating. Really it's a Vietnam Movie in the vein of Rolling Thunder and Deer Hunter - for all I know the cannibalism plot is just a metaphor for postwar trauma. 

12. Inferno
I've seen this movie several times and I still don't know what's going on - yet it always has me on the edge of my seat. Elaborate set pieces, profound cinematography, genuine surprises, and disgusting brutality is truly more than enough to make compelling Cinema. 

13. Nightmare City
Diabolical zombies that punch and kick and stab and shoot guns, all in addition to their normal flesh eating habits - it's just as unpredictable to the movie's victims as it is to the audience. 

14. Raging Bull
I embraced this movie in a big way, back in my film school days but I eventually lost touch with the melodramatic side of it. But still, all the sequences in the ring truly are some of the greatest spectacles Marty's ever pulled off. 

15. Alligator
Not since Jaws has a Creature Feature managed to be so effortlessly engrossing with minimal use of a creature. Robert Forster headlines a cast of character actors in what is largely a satisfying police procedural. It's just a bonus that the rarely-seen alligator does, indeed, kick ass. 

16. Christmas Evil
With the Slasher boom already beginning to take "shape", this grim allegory went off in a different, better direction that focused less on mindless casualties and more on the sad degeneration of its lead "monster". It's also an aggressively Christmassy Christmas Movie. 

17. Dressed to Kill
Whenever I review any Brian DePalma movie, I declare it to be "his most Brian Depalma movie" -- but I really mean it this time. More than any of the others, this film dares you to not take it seriously. And whether you do or don't, you're gonna enjoy it either way. 

18. Humanoids From the Deep
Whenever I hear "low budget 80s Monster Movie" it's always cooler in my head than what they put on the screen. Humanoids actually fulfills my expectations in most areas - particularly the monsters themselves (designed and created by Fog maestro Rob Bottin). 

19. The Godsend
Evil kid situations usually get dragged down in a lotta exposition and plot. This is a refreshing take (for any genre) that maintains its eerie mystery while managing to unfold at an alarming pace. Also the kids in these kindsa movies can sometimes come off as annoying, but this little girl is super sinister. 

20. Cannibal Holocaust
I adored it for its cinematography and music score - and I still very much do. I'll always hesitate revisiting it without shielding my eyes with my hands - so I'm forced to make a compromise, because the movie does not. 

1.21.2024

1984: It's The Golden Country -- almost


1984 did not turn out the way George Orwell had predicted... Or did it? 

There's your tagline. Or how about simply Truth is stranger than fiction.

The world had its share of plight: war, famine, assassination. Foreign debts, homeless vets. AIDS, crack, Bernie Goetz. The inaugural Police Academy movie. It was bad but it wasn't a full-blown dystopia, and not nearly as Orwellian as it's become with each passing decade. So if you were lucky enough to not be hungry or dying or taken hostage during this year, there was plenty around to entertain and enlighten. 


I was a year old so I didn't know what the hell was going on, and if I did I can't remember; probably watching Hill Street Blues and filling my diaper. But if you've kept up with this series you know that I or you or anyone can make approximations based on time and place; I'm sure that outside of working imaginary retail on a Fisher-Price cash register I maintained my steady diet of HBO, MTV, and VCR. So what does that spell: lotsa Tina Turner and Thompson Twins, Meryl Streep and Matt Dillon, Who's The Boss? and Cheers


Parents (and by "parents" I mean me) will scrutinize and compare the conditions of the environment surrounding their own kids vs. how it was way back when; not in any malicious or resentful way (though some parents do) but just as a highly invested observer - on a large sociological scope but also on the more intimate domestic level. At a glance, when my child was one year old he was surrounded by telescreens spewing misinformation and couldn't breathe the air in a public setting. He didn't know or care beyond the song & dance of his sheltered reality, and I was blessed to have that same outlook and maintain that innocent ignorance for my own first few years. And it's that very outlook that grownups still crave: we attach it to cartoons and pop songs and call it "nostalgia" and we'll sit and watch a new Ghostbusters or Beverly Hills Cop movie not for quality entertainment but to role-play the singular time in our lives when nothing was expected of us and the only evils of the world came in the form of a 100 ft. marshmallow man. 


So no, it was not like Orwell's novel; the year capped off with a buncha rich celebrities chanting "feed the world" so society as a whole wasn't physically or psychologically repressed, and I think the movies reflected that: a lotta fantasy mixed in with supernatural threats. Movies about dancing and mermaids; lots of fluffy escapism but it all had substance, and that substance was rooted more in raw originality and expert storytelling than in any political or sanctimonious subtext. Unfettered, intelligent Entertainment. For the most part. 


A year of icons! We were introduced to Axel Foley, Gizmo, Freddy Krueger, the T-800, Mr. Miyagi, Buckaroo Banzai, Boogaloo Shrimp, Booger, and Slimer. Indiana Jones took a brief Nazi break, Prince and Mozart became cinematic rock stars, and everybody cut footloose. 80s gonna 80s I guess. Even my Top 20 list of mainstream blockbusting excitement can't hold all the colorful classics of contemporary cinema. That's obviously because they're not all winners in my book, but the ones that are had the tools and had the talent to make 1984 one helluva standout year. 

- Paul



1. Ghostbusters
A pinnacle of 1980s American Cinema as well as global popular culture, and my favorite Comedy of all time. No surprises there, but I never tire of stressing its effectiveness as a Horror Movie; the 80s is forever linked to its low budget Slasher fare, but when the scary movies went big, they went hard. When this film decides to be serious it doesn't hold back and has enough shit to turn you white - it approaches the level of Poltergeist or Aliens, and unlike something like Beetlejuice only sometimes does the comedy spill over into the terror. It's that tonal imbalance that cranks the contrast in this "Dark Comedy." 

2. Starman
On the short list of movies that cause me to shed a tear - largely due to Jack Nitzsche's gut wrenching music score. But there's a lotta things that come to mind with this film. Firstly it's one of the best Food Movies of all time (sandwiches, pies, milkshakes). It's also endlessly quotable and I've been pulling lines from it since I could talk. But now in hindsight (or maybe even upon its release) it's a terrific reminder that Carpenter never had to fall back on shocks and scares to tell a story or even create a mood; even with the Science Fiction stuff aside, it's still his style and it works effectively across the board. 

3. The Bounty
You can compare it to the other film versions of this story but I don't think it matters - everything about this interpretation is exactly my speed: the music, the pace, the set design and costumes, and particularly the acting. I'll easily nominate this as Mel Gibson's best performance, but I'll take a deep breath and shut my eyes and say it's also Anthony Hopkins's best performance - both of them outacting Liam Neeson and Daniel Day-Lewis, no less. 

4. Romancing the Stone
Zemeckis's first blockbuster - and all without Spielberg's help(!) which is most surprising as it's mostly a lighter, cuter Indiana Jones. And funnier! And I think that's the biggest draw in this movie for me; I'm not impervious to the solid action sequences or the chemistry between Michael and Kathleen, but this easily works as the second best Comedy of the year. 

5. Blood Simple
As it's happened with several astounding films: after seeing Fargo I ventured back to discover (and rediscover) the rest of their filmography. Regardless (or because) of the two films' similarities I was even more taken with this extremely competent and confident freshman effort that could've appeared anywhere in their career and it would've still felt just as strong. Actual screen time be damned, I consider M. Emmett Walsh to be the lead, and we should treasure this movie just for that alone. 

6. Stop Making Sense
A Concert "Film" you say? Of which there are so few, at least many of any pertinence. It's one thing to capture a music concert with a handful of video cameras - that's an approach and it gets the job done - but to harness the energy of witnessing Rock Gods in the flesh and translate it into a tangible medium takes the finesse and enthusiasm of a band's mega fan -- i.e. Jonathan Demme + Talking Heads. It's not a Rock Opera or even a Documentary, but it feels like it has a story.

7. The NeverEnding Story
Whether it's sinking in The Swamps of Sadness or hiding in the attic of a public school, no other piece of art has ever so accurately captured the abstract wonder and terror of childhood (particularly growing up in the 1980s -- or maybe any time). That may be rooted in my own nostalgia and perhaps not everyone's kindertrauma was accompanied by a majestic Giorgio Moroder soundtrack, but every creature and event and emotion in this movie felt symbolic of trying to survive in a hostile and beautiful world. I could relate. 

8. Breakin'
All of the Dance Movies of the 1980s, even the breakdancing ones, took themselves way too seriously. Big surprise: this one does not. And that's not to minimize it in any way: it has romance, domestic strife, conflict, a villain, intentional comedy, ridiculously engrossing dance sequences, and a soundtrack that goes head-to-head with the best of the rest in this genre. It knows what's important and doesn't pretend to be anything more. 

9. The Natural
This was a time when Sports (particularly Baseball) could believably be depicted as Fantasy and I was raised on it like milk and Jesus. Baseball was very much in the air for all of my youth, but this movie really gave it the weight and grandeur of its supposed mysticism, as it's a not-too-subtle fairytale with a literal Hollywood ending. That's not to say it's ineffective; Randy Newman's music score alone is enough to make you believe that it's more than just a game (or a movie). 

10. Gremlins
Weirdly released into theaters the same day as Ghostbusters as they both epitomized the brazen genre-bending trend of "Children's Horror" that became synonymous with the time. I remember thinking it was scary, and it turns out I was right; the suspense and violence is not an accident but an intelligent and generous choice that precisely hit the mark on what kids find exciting. For me it lives in the shadow of its sequel, but of the two it's definitely more frightening. 

11. The Terminator
Speaking of wholly original films dwarfed by their follow-ups: I, like many I think, am a much bigger fan of the second one, but any time I revisit this one I'm reminded of how some of the strengths of Judgement Day were very much the backbone of the original - in particular the legitimate edge-of-your-seat tension, as well as the use of creatively gross violence that puts all the slashers to shame. 

12. Bachelor Party
One of the earliest movies I can remember - partly because it was on all the time. But even taking myself and its familiarity out of it, it still ranks Number One in its subgenre: the now-defunct Sex Comedy. It's nearly a parody of every other movie like it because of how many gags they packed into it, up to and including that very satire. 

13. A Nightmare on Elm Street
There had been supernatural villains before, but the whole stabbing method of massacre tied the entire tang of the decade together. And finally, someone with style, with motivation, with personality; nearly halfway through the 1980s but it's hard to imagine the period without Freddy. Johnny Depp's liquidation remains to be the most outrageous kill in the series, the genre, and maybe all Film.

14. Amadeus
I'll say it every time: Biopics are trash - particularly ones about celebrities (from any era). They typically just connect the dots with all the clichés and allow some anecdotes to masquerade as filmmaking. And then there's a movie like this that builds from the ground up with its own mood and interpretations and abstractions to the point that the bibliography is buried under a beautiful piece of art. 

15. Breakin' 2: Electric Boogaloo
But wait, there's more! Leave it to The Cannon Group to strike while the dance floor is hot. The first one was lighthearted, but this one is just ridiculous - that is, to say, dancing had a plot function the first time around whereas this movie is a full-blown Busby Berkeley musical that reads as a series of music videos strung together. Believe the hype. Believe in the beat. 

16. Body Double
Possibly the most DePalma that DePalma's ever been. No movie was safe from the fads and fashions of the moment, so this is easily the closest we'll ever get to 1980s Hitchcock. All derivative aspects aside, I always found Brian to be pretty silly, so this movie works extra for me as it weaponizes that silliness in a way that could only be intentional. 

17. Beverly Hills Cop
Once again, the power and potential of this eventual franchise was perfected in the second installment, making this one now feel sluggish and convoluted. Regardless, Eddie proved he could reel in the buffoonery just enough to be a Cool Action Star. And the chemistry between him and Judge Reinhold and John Ashton has become a screenwriting model at this point. 

18. Rhinestone
I will admit - assert even - that the personal appeal of this movie is its star power: I would watch Dolly Parton or Sylvester Stallone in just about anything. But put them together? Ohhh fuhgeddaboudit! On paper the story is very dumb (and so's the dialogue) but it does set them up, both of them, to sing throughout the movie. I enjoy it on levels I won't bother explaining because you won't understand. 

19. Paris, Texas
It's not a period piece, yet it's the least 1984 movie on this list. Partly because the emotions put forward are timeless, but more than that, the baffling richness of the cinematography feels like it's from some futuristic means of filmmaking. And similar to Blood Simple, it's a blessing to have someone like Harry Dean in a lead role. 

20. Rats: Night of Terror
Finally something post-apocalyptic to round out the year. I usually don't like these made-for-cheap, shot-in-abandoned-warehouses, band-of-survivors meanderings, but this one is so dark and dirty and gross that its setting is almost entirely believable. And its twist ending rivals nearly any Twilight Zone episode. 


5.22.2023

Antihero Superstar


an•ti•he•ro - noun - a central character in a story, movie, or drama who lacks conventional heroic attributes.

I don't publish a lotta input on the recent superhero craze because I've not seen a lot of them, so it wouldn't be entirely fair. But that in and of itself is probably pretty revealing; I don't watch a lot of these movies because they look fucking awful, and the scattered portions I have seen turned out to be fucking awful. Like worst I've ever seen, no kidding. Personal preference I guess, however strong it may be, but certainly one of the more subjective observations in my criteria is a lack of relatability; superpowers is one thing, but a flawless disposition dedicated to God and Country is simply beyond the boundaries of believable human nature. Sure, let Josh Brolin take over the world - what do I care, it's fake. 


Well kids, 30 years ago when Ant Men and She Hulks were confined to the pages, our movie heroes took hostages, shot pimps, and raged against the machine. The 90s are still so fresh in our minds that it's easy to ridicule the fashions and foibles that come with any defined decade, but the confrontational and empowering themes of Cinema were like a 1970s redux: alienation, rebellion, and causal violence were the backbone of everything from Action to Comedy to Kids' movies. We actually got two legit Superhero Movies in '93: Batman: Mask of the Phantasm and Super Mario Bros. No superpowers in either case - a masked vigilante driven by childhood trauma and two plumbers from Brooklyn who reluctantly help bring down a reptilian imperialist regime. Or something. Point is, even the costumed crusaders were working outside the system and taking matters into their own bare hands. 


There were characters "on the right side of the law" and circumstances forced them to get dirty. In Tombstone the Earp Brothers long for a life of peace after a career in law enforcement, only to find more violence and injustice until they're finally compelled to compromise even their own principles - their motivations driven by anger and vengeance. Most of the characters on this list aren't looking for trouble - it finds them. Not entirely true of Sergeant John Spartan in Demolition Man - a great movie that I always thought had a dumb title, but the title really is more than a generic Action Movie lyric to sell tickets. There's some afterthought exposition about how reckless he is in his pursuit of bad guys, which gets him into trouble and ultimately sets the premise in motion. But when he finds himself in an excessively polite society 36 years later, that ends up becoming the real antagonist of the picture and the thing that he must demolish


On the opposite end of the long arm of the law are the people trying to save their own ass. In The Fugitive Dr. Richard Kimble has to do his own detective work to entirely reverse every single misstep of the American legal system. The brilliance of that movie is: we know he's right, we know he's innocent, and we're rooting for him, and at the same time we're rooting for Tommy Lee's Deputy Gerard - not to catch him, but to completely shrug off his responsibilities as a U.S. Marshall and accept the truth that of course he's innocent, he's Harrison Ford! We only want cops to step out of line when it's advantageous to our designated hero. In Judgment Night our leads are witnesses to a murder and not only do the police not help, they're nonexistent. Their battle against inner city crime has nothing to do with large scale social justice, it's just self preservation. 

Sometimes survival can lead to a greater cause. Gerry Conlon is falsely accused and convicted of terrorism in In The Name of the Father, forcing him to withstand the perils of prison. In fighting for his life and his name, he's inspired to take up arms against the very corruption that diminished him. Based on a true story, sure, but it's still a very filmic evolution of events; this is how real people become superheroes. In Body Snatchers, Marti has to escape the prospect of becoming a pod person. She tries and fails to save her family from their zombie fate, which only leaves the option of escape - though she's left with a focused hatred against the alien infestation which will inevitably become "society" making this simultaneously the most literal and abstract antihero allegory of the year. 


There's nothing more heroic or uplifting than when children rise above their oppressors to right a wrong or maybe educate their elders - like when Wednesday Addams burns down a summer camp full of bigoted elitists in Addams Family Values. In the two Barry Sonnenfeld Addams movies, all the morbid cracks about murder and torture and necrophilia and disfigurement were played off as one liners and sight gags, but this movie doubles down with a full blown throwdown between the pariahs and the pompous. It's implied that our heroes burn families alive, and us as an audience couldn't be more delighted. A far less drastic act of heroism is Jesse's freeing of Willy the Whale in the aptly titled Free Willy. To be fair, Willy's owners had planned to destroy the whale as part of some insurance scam, so Jesse's aid in his escape is truly an act of good on every level. Even still, in a court of law Jesse's facing breaking and entering, destruction of property, grand theft, and probably conspiracy to commit various environmental crimes. I don't say this to assign a buncha real life logistics to superficial Family Films - I don't do that and I fucking hate when other people do it. But these movies depicting children tearing down authority with bravery and the confidence in what they were doing was right was just as attractive as most villains in fiction - a feat rarely accomplished in Film (for me). 


Then there are the actual bad guys - the protagonists who antagonized as their main story function but somehow managed to persevere as heroes within that story. Schindler's List is the most drastic yet the most soft example: a Nazi war profiteer looks bad on paper, but this is a story about a different time, when a person could redeem themselves through change and amends, thereby exonerating their flawed past. Talk about standing up to authority! But that's a cheat - Oskar Schindler is never presented as a villain. Not like, say, the dinosaurs of Jurassic Park - the movie and the park. This may be a bit abstract but this was a time when we didn't have any straightforward villains to root for (probably because the heroes were so blurry). All the 80s slashers were gone and we were between Batmen, so what can you do for posters and action figures and Fango covers and McDonald's cups? Alan Grant? Ellie Sattler? Ian Malcolm? I mean nowadays yeah because they've all become quotable cult heroes, but back then the T Rex, Raptors, et al. were the true antiheroes of Cinema -- kids didn't wanna free Willy, they wanted to run alongside a herd of Gallimimus (mostly because that was your safest bet).


Mostly I'm talking about the criminal population; the lawbreakin' leads that left us no choice but to cheer them on. And why not? In Carlito's Way, Carlito Brigante is desperately (though successfully) putting his life of crime behind him, and the real tension comes from "when's he gonna relapse?" because, somehow, that's what we wanna see; everyone around him is fucking up in various ways, and so we need him to become Michael Corleone, we need him to be Tony Montana, for the good of the movie. That's usually the arc of these good/bad guys: they eventually wanna hang it up, but the only way out is the way they came in. In the American La Femme Nikita remake Point of No Return, Maggie Hayward is forced into becoming an assassin for the U.S. government, and then predictably doesn't wanna anymore, so the entire third act is her using her crackerjack skills to free herself from the people who trained her. And we want that for her; she's a cold-blooded killer but we really just want her to get with Dermot Mulroney and be happy forever. That happy ending scenario doesn't sit as well in A Perfect World - escaped prisoner Butch Haynes takes an 8-year-old boy hostage on the run for a lighthearted road trip. Butch is a decent guy and he and the kid end up sharing a genuine bond free of any Stockholm Syndrome type stuff, but under the circumstances we really need to see the kid reunited with his mother, and so that's the ending we get. Butch brought excitement into this child's life for the first time, but that doesn't count as redemption in an imperfect world


Intentions are a big part of this central character craze. By the end of True Romance, Clarence and Alabama are unwavering killers and professional drug dealers, but we never think of them that way, because as big and brutal as these acts are, it doesn't define them. Coincidentally, the layers in this movie (established by its screenwriter) indicate that these characters are fully aware of their Antihero status, because they've seen Taxi Driver, Badlands, The Getaway, etc. so they know that they themselves are worth rooting for. That's easily the most meta example of this subgenre in this or any other year, and while it's not played as parody or satire, there's still a lightheartedness to it; when they're not rooted in some tragic true story, the antihero is free to be as ridiculous or funny as they want because they're not bound by virtue. I'd say the most blatant characteristic of this type of lead is that they're human, and their fictional world mirrors the madness of the real world. In Amos & Andrew Amos Odell may be a career criminal and laughably dim but he's the only even-tempered and tolerant character in a cast of bigots, bad cops, and fundamentalists. It's played for laughs, but Amos is almost admirable for his forbearance (which admittedly comes from his ignorance). On this list I empathize most with this character. 


And then there are those days, those overwhelming days, those Falling Down days when we all have a little "D-FENS" in us. The movie is never subtle -- on the contrary it's quite bold and obvious and straightforward and it's the audience that's the variable. There's no way to "interpret" or "misinterpret" this character: his actions and motivations are clearly illustrated on the screen and it's up to us to see him as a hero or a villain, an instigator or a victim, patriotic or prejudiced, and there's very little room for compromise. I view him this way, and if you view him differently you're wrong. Neo Nazis and violent gangsters aside, his true gripe is with humanity; the race he most despises is The Human Race, excluding no one from the warpath - everyone's guilty and everyone will be offended. Which leaves him asking the question that personifies his character as well as every other antihero: "I'm the bad guy? How'd that happen? I did everything they told me to." 

- Paul

4.29.2023

Jump, Jive an' '98


"Every man is a creature of the age in which he lives and few are able to raise themselves above the ideas of the time."
- Voltaire

After composing more than a dozen of these tributes to years gone by, I've learned so much - not only about popular culture, but about myself. 


I'm kidding. For my entire life I've only ever thought about contemporary art and my relationship to that art; this series has been nothing more than a breezy (though ostentatious) recap that is constantly within my own arm's reach. But it has been useful (and more importantly fun) for me to organize and articulate and share a subjective point of view on these little parenthetical eras that hopefully left an open invitation to others to join in, to look back - discuss, critique. I've always tried to maintain a mostly factual vibe, but the more significant angle is the one that comes from me; you and I have both seen The Big Lebowski, but my 1998 was entirely different from your 1998, so the struggle has been to find a balance that would hopefully translate into "relatable nostalgia." 

If you're interested (or new), here's an interactive list of my time travels thus far:
1982 | 1983 | 1985 | 1986 | 1987 | 1988 | 1989 | 1990 | 1991 | 1992 | 1993 | 1994 | 1995 | 1996 | 1997 | 1999 | 2003

'98 was my freshman/sophomore year of High School. I was 15 going on 16 and if age and circumstance has ever been relevant to these reminiscences then that should hold some significance; good or bad that's a tumultuous time in any person's life. It was the most stressful and depressing year of my life up until that point, continuously expanding upon the previous year and the one before that, etc. There was no singular tragedy to point at, it was all just rooted in fear, loneliness, humiliation, and generalized teen angst brought on by an existence of equal parts bullying and aggressive indifference. 


Titanic was released at the tail end of '97, so really the mania that occurred was more of a 1998 event - and, Jesus Christ, was it an event. Like those media blitz montages in movies when someone or something becomes famous and you get shots of magazine covers and talk shows and fans on the street and parodies and a theme song with constant radio and video play - it was that kinda frenzied energy in the world for like 6 months. And I was bittersweet on it; I never got sick of it, and I loved the movie and absolutely understood the deep, widespread appeal and I was thrilled to be on the right side of it. At the same time I was overcome with a divine melancholy; the film is famously and legitimately moving, but the heaviness of the melodramatic romance actually managed to make me feel that much more alone. Sure, anyone wants someone to look at them the way Rose looks at Jack but I'd gone without any form of real friendship for most of my life and I was filled with some kinda abstract desperation to be nearer, my god, to anyone. 


Alas, I ate my feelings and kept on doing what I do best: seeking out and inventing ways to entertain myself. I'd been doing a lotta pen & ink drawing around this time, mostly just copying other people's work I'd seen in bizarre art books - a sincere passion that truly excited me but was admittedly a subconscious response as a distraction from my reality. But my true calling that year (and the 5 or 6 years that followed) was writing feature length screenplays - filling 5-subject notebooks with long, genre-bending, handwritten scripts. My days became about note taking and research and my nights and weekends were marathons of writing and rewriting and immersing myself in made up situations involving characters and scenarios and outcomes that I could control. That's sorta my pseudo intellectual self analysis and it's probably bullshit; the truth is I was both desperate and excited to see movies exactly how I wanted to see them (even if they were just on paper). Almost immediately, the amount of time I spent writing movies became far greater than the amount I spent watching, which is mixed into the handful of things that really changed the dynamic of this year. 


Alongside the Titanic craze, my heart continued to go on for a lotta the '97 stuff. It wasn't until Spring/Summer that I began to notice 1998 taking shape. Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas arrived in May as a North Star to orient me in my firmly established interests of film, music, literature, and of course, pen & ink drawing. That obsession flourished for as long as it was in theaters (until it was booted out by some X-Files movie). But, in between its theatrical and home video release, the absolute core of my 1998 was dominated by D-Day. 


There was a buildup: Spielberg Doing History was becoming a rapidly expanding and respected subgenre for my father and I, and Saving Private Ryan was a decidedly big deal to us even before we saw it. And then we saw it. The film is many things: on the surface it's a wildly violent Action Movie, but it's also an honest Historical Epic, a groundbreaking War Film, a patriotic promotional campaign, and on the visceral level, an intense Thriller. So intense that my father and I agreed that we probably didn't have the physical endurance to watch the movie again. 

We retuned to the theater 12 more times that year to see it - a still standing record for each of us. 


I'd always appreciated the theater experience on an almost religious plane, but Ryan stirred up a sorta physical addiction. I loved the movie, but I was entirely consumed by the presentation: audience reaction, the scope of the screen, and most importantly, the sound; I knew that in the very near future this film would be confined to home video magnetic tape and the sheer volume and intricate audio effects would be lost in the translation, and so I hungrily devoured this big loud atmosphere as many times as possible before something like Thin Red Line came bumbling in to take its screen. It's experiences like this that have thickened my hide against the flimsy fallacy of "streaming premieres at home." Get real.

In just these very few interests and adventures I've mentioned, they were all sprawling and engrossing enough to occupy my entire year, and to not remember it for being depressing and angsty. It also didn't leave a lotta space to experience too many new movies -- and looking back at what there was I think that worked out just fine; what I liked I loved, and the rest felt like a cumbersome drag. I suppose a psychedelic road trip and the beaches of Normandy set the bar too high for me; the highest grossing movie of that year was Armageddon and the Best Picture winner ended up being Shakespeare in Love, so that's the broad spectrum of the blah that specifically wasn't moving me. I always speak so highly of the 90s but there were still dips and diversions that allowed me to catch my breath and reflect - just long enough to force me to appreciate the medium even more. 


It was the year of asteroids and animated insects. Queen Elizabeth I and World War II. The return of Godzilla, Norman Bates, Michael Myers, and Chucky. Boomer nostalgia initiated the "reboot" brand with Lost in Space, Dr. Dolittle, A Perfect Murder, You've Got Mail, and The Odd Couple II. The Fugitive received both a sequel and a parody. Joe Dante and John Landis both came back and both struck out. Adam Sandler became a top earner. Slashers limped along as Science Fiction became the new Horror; the highest grossing scary movie came from Marvel Comics. I think I liked more songs from this year than I did movies, which is a capsized scenario for me in the 1990s. And so I've done my best -- 15 best to be awkwardly exact, which is the most honest total I could muster. But that's just, like, my opinion, man.

- Paul



1. Saving Private Ryan
It has some performances, an adequate music score, and a generously coherent story and script. This movie is about editing, sound, cinematography, and directing; one of the most striking technical achievements in Cinema and the movie that forced me to reevaluate Spielberg as more than just the name brand for quality entertainment. I had a more articulate appreciation for his entire body of work after this, as well as higher expectations for him (and all films) in the years to come. 

2. Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas
It has its cult status now, but I sat in 4 empty showings of this faithful adaptation of an otherwise famous book because I couldn't get enough of its bat country craziness. I've never really done drugs and I've never really felt the need to as long as I can buy this ticket and take the ride. 

3. Hurlyburly
I'm always forced to struggle for some kinda pretentious explanation as to why I love this screen adaptation of David Rabe's 1984 Off-Broadway (then Broadway) play. I totally get it's not for everyone - even I struggled with it initially. After a few watches the seemingly impenetrable dialogue became embedded in my brain, and I began incorporating lines into my daily life. That's a sign that a movie's had a good effect on you. 

4. A Civil Action
I saw it in the theater and thought it was alright, kinda drab. A few years later I caught it on TV at like 12:30 at night and found that I couldn't stop watching it. That's another good criterion to determine how much you like something; even when I put it on now as background company I usually end up dropped into the water yet again. 

5. Bulworth
The plot felt familiar but it'd never gone in a direction quite like this before. A good year for Comedy I think, and this was a good example of how pointed and adult it had become while still using broad strokes; the fact that this is still funny for the same reasons is a blessing and a curse.

6. Buffalo '66
I don't know what kinda weird goddamn cult this movie has but I guess I'm in it. It's aggressive in its indie aesthetic but I always felt that worked in its favor; it looks like a gritty Crime Drama but it's a Romantic Comedy - and I find it both romantic and comedic. 

7. The Big Lebowski
I quickly recognized it as one of my lesser favorite Coen movies at that point, and yet I still thought it was far fucking out! I've never found it as funny as it thought it was, but the soundtrack and characters and performances of those characters had me watching it over and over like everyone else. 

8. Out of Sight
After a decade of mostly below the radar experiments, Steven Soderbergh finally made a Steven Soderbergh movie (as we now understand them to be). This was the Critical Darling of 1998 and I remember not fully grasping what the hype was about. In hindsight, we clearly just needed more Soderbergh movies. 

9. Rounders
At this point in this decade, it actually felt groundbreaking to have a movie about gangsters and lowlifes that wasn't saturated in violence. But this was a point when I was still interested in actors and performances, and Edward Norton was very quickly becoming my guy and anything he was in felt that much more important. This is still my favorite character of his.  

10. Rushmore
I think I'd already seen Bottle Rocket so I wasn't entirely fooled by how falsely they sold this flick. Something with this much style demands a minute for the viewer to adjust, but it happens fast because it's so consistent. People were throwing around Graduate and Annie Hall comparisons - I found it to be in a class by itself (until he made more movies).

11. Snake Eyes
I approached it as a goofy ass Nic Cage Thriller, and then saw it and realized, "oh, it's a goofy ass Brian DePalma Thriller!" which is its own hip brand of goofy assiness and one that I'm not always into. But when you mixed Brian with someone like Nic (or Pacino or Lithgow), it was the perfect measure of madness for me. 

12. Happiness
Dark Comedy? Black Comedy? Horror Comedy? You can't place it in any precious little package that identifies it as that kinda movie - at least not in the mainstream, and that's its brilliance and its bravery; it's a straightforward narrative starring Hollywood actors and it only has two speeds: nervous laughter and sweaty discomfort.  

13. A Simple Plan
My favorite Sam Raimi film by far, which made perfect sense for me; this is exactly the kind of story and style that should've defined his bigger budget career (not the superhero stuff and not even the Evil Dead wannabes). Anyone who handles Suspense and Drama with this much finesse and chooses Marvel money instead is depriving us and themself. 

14. Pleasantville
Gary Ross became very notable to me as he wrote high concept stories that were rooted silliness and then gradually and eloquently shifted into seriousness (Big, Dave). This was (and still is) the best example of that model, probably because it was the best contrast - it seemed like such a stupid idea, until it clearly wasn't. 

15. American History X
Melodramatic and obvious to the point that it's basically an abridged cartoon. No matter, it's connect-the-dots life lessons fall out of focus when compared to the seething song and dance put on by my boy Ed. I kinda wanted to be his character in Rounders - not so much here, though it did further stimulate my interest in tattoos (within the boundaries of more socially acceptable iconography).

1.14.2023

1983 ...What A Feeling


An important year in pop culture, specifically because it was when I was born. I don't say that in a cutesy "god's gift to the world" way; were I not here, you wouldn't be reading this right now. Isn't that weird and cool? Point is, I was put on this earth to look at some shit (and probably a lotta other things I fucked up and/or missed out on) and it all started in February of this year of which I cannot remember.

I like to pretend I remember things from Year Zero. But maybe I was 1, or 2, who knows. Anyway that's not what this is about. I do know that this year was full of cultural significance that would eventually make an impact on me - either immediately, later on, or continually throughout my life. I'm always proud to note that the final episode of M*A*S*H aired the month I was born - as though it somehow linked me to a bygone era, dressing me in both wisdom and innocence. Truth is, Happy Days was still on the air. Dukes of Hazard had another 2 years. So did The Jeffersons. Fall Guy was still going strong. Richard Dawson was still hosting Family Feud. Turns out I'm as old as I actually am; stuff like Sesame Street and Scooby-Doo are not indicative of any era because they never went away, but more than that is that I come from the cusp of the "millennial" denomination - the scent of the 70s was still deep in the upholstery.


Top 40 music suggested otherwise; you can't get much more 1980s than "True" by Spandau Ballet or "The Politics of Dancing" by Re-Flex. The year introduced us to Madonna, Metallica, and Cyndi Lauper, while folks like Bowie, Elton, McCartney, and The Stones shifted their sound to mingle in the relevance of Music Television. It may've seemed like a vast variety at the time, but a 40 year distance will make Styx and Wang Chung that much more indistinguishable. And while I clearly wasn't conscious of it as an infant, I'm intellectually aware that it saturated my environment: my mother had albums by Men at Work and Culture Club, my father adored the lyrics to Nena's "99 Red Balloons," and my sister was into Air Supply and Journey. I'm certain there was a nonstop chaotic cliché of Greatest Hits of the 80s in the air.


I think it's fair to say I didn't see any new release movies this year, but like the music, HBO and VHS were full steam ahead at all times, so there was undoubtedly a healthy stream of Empire Strikes Back, Willy Wonka, Arthur, Pete's Dragon, Wizard of Oz, and whatever else videotape and pay TV expelled out into the space of our haunted apartment. Meanwhile, movies were being released into theaters that would find their way into my world - some later in life, some as soon as the following year. Some formative spectacles, a few big budget clunkers, and a lotta sordid cult items - some classics, some calamities, and not all to my liking, then or now. A bit of a tepid year in terms of qualitative quantity - especially compared to the monumental music output; Stephen King was thriving, Jaws was dying, and Barbara Streisand was the cutest Yeshiva Boy you ever saw. It was a bit of a flat soda as far as my taste goes, but per usual, holding them up against the content output of today, '83 was largely standout Motion Picture achievements with a few of the greatest films ever made thrown in. It's been exhausting maintaining some sort of "progressive" approach for however many years now, passively accepting whatever new "direction" movies seem to take. But This Is 40, and I resolve to be less shy and less polite about the recycled gunk of contemporary media vs. "the good old days"; there was a lotta broad expensive garbage and trivial lowbrow shame released in the Big 80s (and every other decade to varying degrees), but the ratio of innovation, experimentation, and risk was still much greater. Creative artists with original ideas were still getting studio pictures off the ground, largely unscathed, which in and of itself was progressing popular culture, rather than sucking the fumes of "the good old days." I'm old-fashioned like that; a conservative for a time when things moved forward, not scraping the guardrails alongside the highway to mediocrity. 

But I'm hard to please - the new century has taught me that. And so I had a tough time making love outta nothing at all (sorry) and was no way in hell gonna inflate this into a Top 40. So I did a traditional (and no doubt predictable) Top 20 of 40 year old movies - some have aged better than I, some have not, I adore them all.

The Best Will Be First.

- Paul



1. The Right Stuff
Not the first movie I saw or even the first movie I liked, but it's My First Movie. In the most obvious, superficial way, it sparked an obsession in me with the Space Program - not necessarily in terms of science, heroism, or interplanetary curiosity, but through the weird psychedelic moodiness the film falls into for nearly every set piece throughout. Combine that with inventive special effects and a bombastic Bill Conti score and it creates that kinda 2001 atmosphere that's mesmerizing to anyone of any age. Still though, to a toddler: Rocketship! 

2. Easy Money
This lowbrow premise coulda been a real disaster, but it wasn't. Like any comedian with a unique style, it works like butter when a script & story caters to them, and so we end up with a full-blown "Rodney Dangerfield vehicle" that matches both the content and delivery of his material. And you know what? Pesci & Dangerfield > Pesci & De Niro. 

3. The King of Comedy
But Bobby & Jerry? Fuhgeddaboudit. The chemistry between De Niro and Sandra Bernhard is really good too and I wish there were more of it. I remember what a huge deal it was when Analyze This came out and everyone was like "omg! De Niro is funny!" And I thought "well I'll let Midnight Run slide, but c'mon man." I wish Marty would make more movies like this, I wish anyone would make more movies like this - Joker notwithstanding. 

4. Twilight Zone: The Movie
Spent my whole life struggling to warm up to the Spielberg segment. Not really there yet, which is a shame because it's otherwise one of the greatest big budget Horror flicks of the 80s, ahead of The Fly and, ironically, Poltergeist. No matter - controversy aside, it's my favorite thing Landis and Miller (and God help me, maybe even Joe Dante) have ever done.

5. A Christmas Story
Roger Ebert noted, "...people don't often go to movies with specific holiday themes." Too true in the decades before the Cult of Hallmark, and so 1983 gifted us the ultimate sleeper hit, left wrapped in the corner, only to be discovered after the hoopla had died down. 

6. STAR WARS - Episode VI: Return of the Jedi
I've published big, contemplative prose regarding the weights and measures of this monumental resolution to the most lucrative and culturally significant film franchise that had ever been (at the time). But really, it's just about Bib Fortuna, Leia's bikini, Luke's green lightsaber, The Emperor's Royal Guards, and Vader's unmasking, because that's how STAR WARS works, kid. 

7. Bloodbeat
I don't like labeling a movie as "weird," but when I do it's something special. One of my favorite home video discoveries of the past ten years, this slasher/ghost/possession/samurai fable is evidently beyond definition and just beyond comprehension. And it's a Christmas movie!

8. Trading Places
The second entry in the Mount Rushmore of "1980s Eddie" and probably his best Straight Comedy. Not to ignore the other performances in the film, but it's such a quotable movie and any time I reach for a line it's one of his. And that kinda thing happens to me every week!

9. National Lampoon's Vacation
Always dwarfed by the graceful subtleties of its Christmas sequel, it's still strong enough as a Summertime counterpart. Having said that, Clark's final act profanity-laden meltdown in the car is the finest writing to come out of this year. 

10. A Blade in the Dark
Even a weak Giallo picture is likely to have some striking visuals and good music, both of which this movie has enough to spare. But few others manage to be this thrilling or weird or aware of itself - and that's saying something I think.

11. Scarface
It was never entirely what I needed it to be - but that was just a byproduct of the hype I think. I wanted more broad, more garish, more violent - every element for which it was demonized. Instead I settled into the subtleties (and soundtrack) which is where the vibe truly lies. 

12. Videodrome
One of the most fun scripts of the year fer sure; if anything, David's sense of Science Fiction is the closest to what I'd like it to be. And for all its big ideas and effects wizardry, I still struggle to find any kind of vibe.

13. Bill Cosby: Himself
Well this is awkward. I never watched his sitcom or kids' shows; after Mother, Jugs, and Speed I knew him from this (and probably Jell-O) and thought it was just hysterical - his bit about the dentist always thwarts the tension of all my office visits. I've not seen this since the unpleasantness, and so I continue to let my memories live in a separate room. 

14. Christine
Carpenter gets ghosts, and he spins a good yarn - even if it's not his own original yarn; he takes it upon himself to disregard an origin story, and in true Michael Myers style, the car is simply evil - which works for me so much more as ghost in the machine than a masked man. 

15. The Hunger
Tony Scott is at his best in the Action/Crime genre and he clearly knew that. But he knew Thriller, he knew Erotic, he knew mood, and those best elements of his later blockbusters are basically the only elements that make up this contemporary gothic tale, with heavy emphasis on both "contemporary" and "gothic."

16. The Dead Zone
As far as the movie versions go, there's some superficial parallels to The Shining: eccentric actor plays eccentric character who's confronted with grim scenarios from a different time. And while there's so much more to consider, that formula seems to be really effective for me. 

17. Nightmares
As uneven as any Anthology Horror, but just as competent as some of the best - mostly. If it ever feels cheap or low-key, that's because it was supposedly a two hour pilot that was deemed too scary for TV. Had it been as such it would've blown Tales From the Darkside outta the woods.

18. Sledgehammer
"Shot-on-Video" comes with a lotta baggage, and it takes legitimate talent to make these in a competent way and hopefully add a little extra. Low budget auteur David A. Prior does exactly that and manages to make a mind-bender of a movie that's more effective and efficient than most other Slasher flicks - of this time or any.

19. D.C. Cab
Something I'm noticing here: this year is a very stream-of-consciousness lineup; movies that have an abstract approach to traditional structure. This movie has a "plot" but it's boring af - you watch it for Busey, for Mr. T, For Charlie Barnett, for Irene Cara. The "hangout" movie of '83.

20. Zelig
Not the first Mockumentary, but perhaps the first feature length attempt at the refined silliness with which we've become accustomed to associate it. I've mentioned "High Concept Woody" in the past - it's tricky business, and always wears extremely thin by the final act. It's excusable here, as long as it's true to the life of Leonard Zelig.