STATIC SHOTS

MY AWESOME MIX TAPE #8

I think we'll go with a little 1992, gentlemen

Could this be it? Could this be the most influential year of my entire life?

Lookit, I like to present these anniversary essays in an impartial way whenever I can. But in doing so I'm tricked into retracing my life into a nearly-photorealistic portrait; sometimes the image is ugly, sometimes it's beautiful, but it's always a bit of a bombshell. Intellectually I'm aware of everything that happened in 1992, but when I lay it all out on the floor in front of me, I can barely believe it. And obviously I don't mean in terms of academia or world events - I was 9, and I knew what was important. 

At this point I was watching new episodes of Saturday Night Live pretty regularly, so the hype of the Wayne's World movie found my antenna without any distortion. It was a bit of an event when it came out - it was the hip thing of the moment, and the theater on opening weekend felt like a party. Perhaps because of my age, I got the fresh, insightful Comedy I was expecting, while other folks - older folks - my folks - were caught off guard by its originality and intelligence.

The movie is a collection of great scenes and memorable lines at a fast pace, and while I absorbed it with delight, at no point during my first viewing was I able to stop thinking about this piece of music - this song that drove the first major set piece of the film; I literally sat through the movie waiting for them to find an excuse to play it again. I'd gone 9 years without ever hearing "Bohemian Rhapsody" - or without ever really having any kinda passion for music... and then suddenly, instantly, I did. So rarely can we pinpoint an exact moment that shapes the rest of our lives -- but this one's captured on film. Queen became the most important thing in the world to me for the next several years, and have remained on that top shelf to this day.

An entirely new medium was dominating my psyche, yet I still had the headspace to embrace the most exquisite and engrossing escapade of my collective leisure time: The Legend of Zelda, A Link to the Past. My cousin and I spent the entire Summer immersed in its Dark World dungeons and Lost Woods, strengthening our cognitive reasoning abilities to eventually beat this beast that would ultimately become my favorite video game. 

As Summer set and August blues washed over me, Nickelodeon unveiled SNICK - a two-hour block of TV programming directed toward children of my age -- and by "my age" I mean to the minute. This initial lineup consisted of Clarissa Explains it All, The Ren & Stimpy Show, Roundhouse, and Are You Afraid of the Dark?. I never gave an inch to ABC's TGIF - it just wan't my brand. But this colorful array of madness made the transition back into the school year that much easier. 

And as Autumn pressed on, advertising for Bram Stoker's Dracula began to seep through the cracks like drippy blood, and through some demonic hypnosis, I wandered into bookstores and discovered Fangoria Magazine. A disgusting window had opened for me, and yet another lifelong fascination was set in motion. 

Incredible. Music, video games, television, literature... I'd be blessed to come by just one of these obsessions in my present state of being - and I've barely mentioned the movies! In any other year, the idea of Batman returning would've been enough to occupy my soul for the entire session -- had it not been for this endless parade of pop burlesque and corporate hospitality. Somehow, throughout the heavy consumption of McDonald's cups, monster magazines, and a band's 20-year discography, I was still endlessly in awe of Film - and it just wouldn't stop! Cable, video, drive-in, movie theater... it's amazing I ever went to school. 

I say this every time, but I can't believe how many great movies there were this year - way more than of which I was aware. So I'm going all the way: The Top 30 for the 30th Anniversary of 1992. Go and do likewise, gents. 

- Paul

1. Glengarry Glen Ross

I'd rented it on video and didn't care for its talkiness or its testosterone. Then it had a DVD release in 2002, and as an adult I grasped it differently and adoringly. I dug the dialogue and the performances and all the things this movie is already famous for, and when people think of it they think of Mamet or Pacino or whoever, but I immediately became enthralled with James Foley's directing; every composition, every move is fun and interesting and is a prime example of what can be done with a stage-to-screen adaptation. Because this is how we keep score, bubie. 

2. Sneakers

"Computer hacking" is a dreadfully dull subgenre to me. Fortunately, this movie treats it in such a cartoonish way that it should be served on a Saturday morning with a sugary cereal. I can think of few other films with such a likable personality that asks for so little in return. Now, granted, any movie with a cast of more than one character can be a "hangout movie," but this is a quintessential case in point.

3. My Cousin Vinny

Throughout the decade, I never visited anyone's home that didn't have this videotape somewhere on the premises -- it was up there with white wicker chairs and glow-in-the-dark ceiling stars. "Courtroom Comedy" makes it sound kinda cheap - but the laughs are priceless and the actual progression of the story is wicked engrossing; had it played as a straight Drama it still woulda worked. Instead, it's just the best Comedy of the year.

4. The Last of the Mohicans

I saw this opening weekend. In a theater. And still when I watch it, I'm back in that theater; it's loud and immense and epic, and echoes of that first experience saturate every subsequent viewing and makes me long for the days when score and cinematography were big and beautiful. 

5. Bram Stoker's Dracula

I love to talk about the hype and the lust and the posters and the magazines, but the movie itself is just extraordinary. I suppose everyone has their idea of what the character and the story should feel like, but for my money, I can't imagine any other vibe ever coming as close to what it needs to be.

6. Memoirs of an Invisible Man

Most people praise Carpenter for introducing them to Michael Myers. I'm grateful that he introduced me to The Invisible Man. In hindsight, I love this kind of fiction: hijacking an iconic character and changing the tone and mythology. But initially, I enjoyed it for what it is: the rare "Comedy Thriller" that delivers on both terms, along with some innovative visual effects. I'll never tire of it.

7. A League of Their Own

Baseball was everything to me around this time, and baseball movies were precious gems. So everything about this star-studded Comedy felt like an occasion, and was the start of what officially became "90s Tom Hanks." After I left the theater on that July afternoon, I played catch with my dad.

8. Batman Returns

Critics and fans both observed it was "darker" and "dirtier" and just more "Tim Burton-esque" than the previous chapter. For me, it felt like business as usual in this unblemished filmography, and I couldn't have been happier. I've never been shy about disclosing the effect of timing and advertising that came with this film, but with some distance I'm reminded of a time when comic book movies could be beautiful and inventive and intelligible. 

9. Twin Peaks: Fire Walk With Me

I saw this before I was able to see Season 2 of the TV show, which causes it to "hit different" as it were. Major plot revelations aside, I'll reiterate the unevenness of this movie: Laura's backstory is a depressing drag and artistically uninspired, while the first and third acts have some of the most visually and creatively inspired stuff Lynch has ever done. So so close to perfection. 

10. Wayne's World

For the post part, it's a peculiar brand of Comedy that really has no label; the movie feels like an inside joke that immediately invites you to join in on the punchline. Honestly I was never a fan of the catchphrases or even the central "head banging" satire on which the premise is based - I just was (and am) enthralled at its silliness and haphazardness and Bohemian Rhapsody-ness. 

11. Under Siege

Conspicuously lite on the Action material this year. Fortunately for us, a collaboration of terrorists and mutineers have seized control of the USS Missouri with the intention of commandeering its nuclear capabilities. Except they weren't counting on one man... and Miss July '89. I bring it up all the time and no one seems to remember or care: Tommy Lee Jones in the 90s was louder & crazier than Nic Cage and Chris Walken combined. And I was there for it. 

12. Death Becomes Her

Around this time, everyone liked to point out how they were inventing movies simply to accommodate the blossoming VFX industry. I, for one, appreciated any new outlet for creativity on their part - especially when the results were as creative as this. Like Batman Returns, I always get giddy when A-listers agree to sit in the makeup chair to get ugly and act zany. And ain't much zanier than this flick.

13. Stay Tuned

My feelings on this farce have been pretty well documented, and I'll briefly restate that, for its faults, it's still basically the feel-good movie of the year. But I'm tempted to nominate it as the most "1992" movie on this list - if for nothing else than they managed to parody Wayne's World with such short notice. For as flimsy as the gag is, it's certainly aware of its time & place. 

14. Reservoir Dogs

With each new Quentin film, the style and originality of this freshman feature feels frequently more flat. But on its own merits, without monitoring "how well it's aged," it's still just as cute & fun as the year it was unleashed. Contrariwise, with the exception of Pulp and probably Death Proof, I've been waiting his entire career for a return to this level of simplicity. And it sounds like there's only one more shot at it...

15. Home Alone 2: Lost in New York

I shared everyone's approach: "Jesus, it's just more of the same." And it was, but a little more refined, a much larger scale, and a smooth transition from juvenile slapstick into graphic violence. The first movie has a vivd sentimentality, but this one has bigger laughs. So I prefer it.

16. Captain Ron

This movie is a tightrope act that constantly threatens a plunge into obnoxiousness. It never happens - thanks largely (maybe entirely) to one Kurt Russell, who takes his comedic roles very seriously, and brings a performance that's sometimes subtle, mostly blatant, and entirely captivating. 

17. A Few Good Men

The other big screen adaptation of a major stage play. Apart from its memorable line(s) of dialogue, people don't groove on this one much nowadays - which is a shame. It was a deservedly huge deal when it came out, and is due for a public reappraisal: airtight script aside, enjoy it for the bingo card of character actors.

18. Hero

If it ever feels like a Comedy better suited to the 1940s, that's because it was intentional. And had it been shot in black & white, I would've raised it several spots. Still though, few stories unfold with as much ridiculous happenstance and joyous frustration as this goofy ass screwball fable. Pardon the vulgarity. 

19. Class Act

I think I was embarrassed to admit to myself that I liked something so seemingly lowbrow. But I'll be goddamned if I didn't actually love it. HBO played the hell outta this movie, but whenever it was on, it stayed on, and no matter how many times I saw it, the laughs stayed fresh.

20. The Player

As a teenage film geek, this movie had a lotta weight to it. As I got older, the absurdity started to shine through - but it's a clean and accurate absurdity that now serves as an honest depiction of the Film Industry in the early 90s. That's an observation, but it's also a glowing review. 

21. Lethal Weapon 3

A month before the excitement of Batman Returns, there was the excitement of this - with less reward. I assessed its triumphs and its blunders long ago, but after however many viewings later, I've learned to approach this one as less of a failure of formula, and more as a detour into character development. And for the most part, they do it well. 

22. Innocent Blood

"Vampire Comedy" is an inexplicably sprawling sub subgenre - and most of them suck. (Oops.) So leave it to the guy who made the Werewolf Comedy to find the perfect balance of dark humor and grotesque, violent Horror. This one should be more popular. 

23. Ladybugs

I don't know when it became trendy for adult comedians to "do one for the kids," but man there sure were a lotta them in the 1990s. Sometimes it was embarrassing, but Rodney's grumbly quips actually fit in with this mood pretty nicely. Naturally, I had the standard mega crush on Vinessa Shaw, and I felt a delightful sense of personal growth when she rounded out the decade with Eyes Wide Shut.

24. There Goes the Neighborhood

This low-key Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World Comedy would pop up on movie channels once in while, and once it hooked me, I would actively search the TV schedule for the next showing. Still today, I'm patiently waiting for any kinda home video release. Y'know, I make these lists largely for the purposes of recommendation, so if you have any information regarding the whereabouts of this missing masterpiece, contact me. 

25. Radio Flyer

I was always delighted to stumble upon "Kids' Dramas" that weren't rooted in some supernatural peril. Ridiculous cast & crew behind this thing - most notably screenwriter David Mickey Evans - the dude behind The Sandlot (which is an accurate comparison).

26. Honeymoon in Vegas

Before he became his own genre, Nic Cage was a RomCom guy - and he was charming and funny as all heck. Overall, this is a decidedly lighthearted year, but the parts are still greater than the whole, and a movie like this is necessary for the full effect. 

27. Sidekicks

It's easy to look at this now (if you can find it) and psychoanalyze the characters and the entire premise. I implore you to approach it with the innocence it deserves: a cheaper, more intimate Last Action Hero that deeply (though somewhat clumsily) resonated with us kids who were lost in our daydreams and fantasies of the fantastic. 

28. Freejack

Good Science Fiction is usually batshit crazy, and this dystopian Actioner is out there. All the 90s hallmarks are present: virtual reality wormholes, environmental deterioration, Jesus Jones... but outside the timely production values, this is dime-store pulp fiction that's just begging to be consumed.  

29. Single White Female

This was the year when Thrillers started to slip into something a little more comfortable and I found it pretty exciting; they were meant to make sexiness more scary, but to me they made scariness more sexy. And for the record: I was Team Bridget, but I think I've matured into Team Jennifer.

30. Bob Roberts

"Mockumentary" usually indicates some laid-back laughs, but this satire is so thick & meaty that you'll find yourself chuckling out of rage. Now I'd not seen Don't Look Back when this came out, so it felt wholly original, but there's a greater effect if you know the 1967 Dylan doc before going in.

EROTIQUE :: PLAYBOY Magazine, July 1989 - Volume 36, No. 7

Once upon a time, in my lifetime, one had to seek out art and popular culture: we had to go to stores (sometimes many, because there were many to go to) and search for that video/album/comic book/trading card/poster/t-shirt/whatever, otherwise we went without it and it lived only in our fantasies, and we were poorer for it.

Today, everything's available - especially if you have even mildly broad tastes - and, you know, there's nothing logistically bad about this; it can become hard to see the forest for the trees sometimes and not fully appreciate that I can view any episode of Banacek at any time of any day. And that's just older stuff: we're in the age when new pop culture finds us and tunes us in without ever having to leave the comfort of our open-mouth gaze.
What a time to be vaguely alive!

But this is a story from long before trending tweets and viral memes and streaming binges, and how a cultural cornerstone and major centerpiece of my life dive-bombed onto my radar through the organic algorithms of momentum, smut, and God.

If you're at all close to my age (or younger), there's probably a good chance that you too spotted the July '89 issue of Playboy for the first time in Home Alone. In the movie, Kevin is startled & disgusted by the content of the magazine (because he's too young, you see), and by that metric, Buzz is, on all counts, not.
Even at the age of 7 I found Kevin's reaction to be manipulative and unlikely. In Buzz's bedroom of generic pubescent male treasures, the Playboy was, high & firm, the brass ring, and Kevin (who's playing a year older than myself at the time) would've recognized that fact in a less family-friendly fable. (He chooses a gun instead, go figure.) Now, Home Alone's never been my go-to guide for Cinema Verite, but when Kevin dismissed the magazine as "sickening" whilst tossing it into the ruins of the bedroom, my internal monologue asked, "What the fuck're you doing, that's the best thing you've found!" In summation, the movie made me feel as though there were something wrong with me, or the movie simply wasn't realistic.
In my ongoing narcissism, I settled on the latter.

Cut to 1993, and I rent Under Siege as a New Release video. And lo and behold, there it is again: Buzz McCallister's sickening nudie mag, very very prominently used as a prop (and an almost-plot point). At this point in time, I'd honestly figured that this "Playboy" I kept seeing in Hollywood movies was, in fact, a 'prop' - an issue of Playboy that never existed and was designed and created for the purposes of appearing in film & television: with its busy, nondescript cover that looks unlike all other Playboy covers, and its contents that are always conspicuously hidden from us.

In the movie, the lead female character is Jordan Tate, aka "Miss July," the issue's Playmate of the Month, depicted in a centerfold that's never shown to us. When I learned Jordan was simply played by an actress of a different name, that more or less solidified my assumption that this movie-Playboy was, indeed, fake.
Still, though, she was very convincing in her role, and the title "Miss July" stayed with me for some time.

The following year - '94 - a kid on the bus ride home from school makes me an offer: five dollars for a Playboy magazine. I can't imagine what the hell kinda conversation we were having that landed there (or, he just suggested it outta the clear blue), but the proposition was put forth, and I immediately devised a plan: I'd hoard my milk money for a week, so by Friday, I'd be stanky rich and the transaction could be made.
Everything about this scenario, at the time, was almost too exciting to grasp: I was involved in a secret plan without the council or moderation of any adult, the subject matter of the premise was decidedly provocative and dangerous, and at the end there was the promise of a potentially outstanding reward. In the even larger scheme of life, I learned how to save money with the skills of frugality and deprivation, i.e. I was budgeting and making sacrifices in order to reach a specific goal. But more than any of this was that I had to confront the idea of "lying" to my mother, who believed this money that I was allotted was going towards some form of nutrition. But through a bit of denial and self-talk, moral ambiguity convinced me  that this was a stance of independence and a right of pending puberty that was owed to me.
I might've actually been right: a minuscule carton of MALK was no competition for potentially formative material goods.

Friday came, and we decided to wait until my stop approached to do business. And as the bus brakes screeched, I handed over my five crinkled singles, and from out of his open backpack and into mine, there it was: a glimpse of immediate recognition, Playboy, July 1989, the magazine from movies, very quickly became mine in the smoothest smut deal that ever went down.

My first Playboy...
Boy, there's a lotta articles, huh? I was taken aback by how much combing is required to catch a glimpse of a bare T or A. But in this - this "movie star" issue of Playboy - you will see/read about:

• PLAYBOY INTERVIEW: BARRY DILLER - candid conversation
• THE RETURN OF THE DESIGNING WOMAN - article
• SHELLY JAMISON: TV NEWS KNOCKOUT - pictorial
• A SLEEP AND A FORGETTING - fiction
• THE ROAD FROM AFGHANISTAN - article
• PICTURE PERFECT - modern living
• BURNING DESIRES: SEX IN AMERICA - article
• B-MOVIE BIMBOS - pictorial
• 20 QUESTIONS: WILLIAM SHATNER

Some fun stuff. Some not so much. But when I was 11, none of it mattered. In fact, there was very little else in the world that mattered more than Jordan Tate, aka Miss July, aka Erika Eleniak:

BUST: 34
WAIST: 24
HIPS: 32
HEIGHT: 5'5''
WEIGHT: 108
BIRTH DATE: 9-29-69
BIRTHPLACE: Glendale, Cal.
AMBITIONS: To be a successful, happy person. One day I'd like a house in the country and happy babies.
TURN-ONS: water, cool, sunny days, sunsets, the beach, happy people, holidays & chocolate-covered strawberries.
TURN-OFFS: smog, complainers, narrow-minded people, drugs, arguing and traffic!
FAVORITE MUSICIANS: Rod Stewart, Stevie Nicks, The Grateful Dead, Elvis, Aerosmith, The Red Hot Chili Peppers, Ice-T & Rappin' Dr. Geek
FAVORITE MOVIES: The Godfather Saga, 9 1/2 Weeks, The Color Purple, La Bamba, Sophie's Choice, Fatal Attraction & Mask.
I'LL KNOW I'VE MADE IT WHEN: I am completely satisfied with who I am and where I am, inside and out.
IDEAL WEEKEND: Going to the Colorado River with my Honey - We'd have lots of fun in the sun, wild nights and when we were together, endless laughter.

Clearly, we were meant to be together.
How fucking weird was it that this issue of Playboy that I was most aware of was the one handed-down to me by a fellow pervert?
I had no interest in Baywatch at the time, I'd yet to see The Blob remake, and I didn't really grow up with E.T. To me, this mag was a sacred tome depicting the star of Under Siege in various stages of undress in nautical settings.

And, of course, what did I do with this holy collection of contemporary adult art and literature? (No, not that.) I cut it up, because I was 11 and I was an idiot and whenever I got my hands on a book or magazine that contained striking images, I'd extract them from their bound, concealed crypt and assign them a more readily-visible location - usually my walls. Though this material was slightly more provocative than my usual bedroom decor, and I wasn't too naive to take some precautionary measures, like, "From now on, no one go in my room." This ominous, transparent plea really didn't have a lotta distance, and before too long my father calmly asserted that perhaps full-frontal centerfolds were too confrontational "in the house." A fair observation from a grownup not on the cusp of puberty, and so these scraps of glossy nudity would lay dormant in the retired Trapper Keepers of bygone grades, thus cancelling out the emancipation of these images that I'd initially proclaimed.
And so that was the tragic end, more or less, of my first Playboy: crude trapezoids of magazine paper stuffed into last year's Social Studies folder.

After that, who knows...? Filed away for well over a decade, I'm sure, until the integrity of the paper (as well as any discernible function beyond nostalgia) had simply withered and died. By then the contents of this and all media were on full display in the World Wide Web, which, admittedly, led to a sort of laziness/acceptance in not acquiring the physical media that was once so sought after. And the very inkling of this attitude that I had for a short time has radically changed in the past ten years or so -- tangible art keeps me rooted, and I get the shit whenever I can get it.

I'd told this story - the Playboy story - to Jess probably too many times over the years, and she too fully understands (only too well) the emotional weight of childhood equity, the strength of ephemera, and the various Rosebuds and security blankets that are often necessary to nurture into adulthood to maintain an unmolested timeline. I have a small but solid percentage of these trophies - some since birth (god bless my Mother), while Jess has next to nothing, and her grief is real and valid. Because of this, she's able to empathize with my own loss(es). So, like a true soulmate, on Christmas morning of 2018 she gifted me an original, pristine copy of the July 1989 issue of Playboy Magazine.
Because of her, a piece of the puzzle that never should've been absent had been reconnected into my definition.

Truly a great Christmas present - I drifted off to sleep, pranging ducks on the wing and getting off spectacular hip shots.

As an adult-- er, the grownup version of myself, rather, I've gained the full maturity to leave all books and magazines in tact (obviously). Not the most heroic accomplishment for any person - but still, there'll always be that lust to decorate, to display, to adorn with the delights of aesthetic bliss. And let's face it: the best & most interesting art lives in books and museums, and I'll no longer be an art thief in either capacity.
But, the chain of command goes: if I can't express my interests in my living quarters, then it goes on a t-shirt, and if that fails (sometimes catastrophically), then it goes on me.

The End.

- Paul

STATIC SHOTS