Fox Movie Channel - Unvaulted Blog

Just Don't Make Out with the Reptile Guy

Fri, 21 May 2010 14:57:44 -0800

If you invited me to a party and promised lots of drinking, cavorting, hooking up AND told me I got to dress up like a pirate, I would so be there. If I learned, however, that this was a frat party, and that the jerkface best friend of my lame-o boyfriend would be there, I would begin to think twice. I mean, if I really wanted to, I could dress up like a pirate and get drunk at home, you know? If I then learned further details about how the party was going to be held on a train in the middle of nowhere and feature a magic show by David Copperfield, I would not go. I really wouldn't, because I am not a moron. And that seems to be the difference between me and all the bozos in Terror Train.

Ostensibly this movie is about a crazed, bloodthirsty serial killer who's taking out his rage on all the drunky horny college kids trapped on the titular Terror Train (which, by the way, was the directorial debut of Roger Spottiswoode). There's also some stuff about magic. But you'll notice that I've barely talked about all the murdering. That's because I can't get past the fact that if all these kids weren't so profoundly stupid, they wouldn't have all died (or, in some cases, almost died). So here are some of my suggestions to avoid getting murdered by choosing instead to not be stupid:

1. Don't be an asshole. I am talking about you in particular, Hart Bochner, but this applies generally as well. Your intentionally cruel behavior might trigger someone else's murderous tendencies, and then when you get slashed, you pretty much earned it. It's just as easy not to be an asshole. And nicer. Try it.

2. Don't try to have sex with the guy in the reptile suit. Just don't do it. I mean, girls and boys, maybe we can all agree to just make this a general rule for life. No attempted seduction of guys in reptile suits. Done.

3. Are you prepared to be subjected to flashing lights and flying card magic performed to disco music? Are you? No? Then don't get on a train with David Copperfield. In fact, perhaps we've just stumbled upon another smart rule for life.

4. If you're going to a costume party and your boyfriend dresses up like a weird bird, he might be a loser. You might be able to do better. Maybe you should think twice about going to parties with this guy. But, please note, let me again emphasize that opting for a substitute who wears a reptile suit is not a good alternative.

5. If some psycho keeps repeatedly coming after you to attempt to murder you, maybe you should considering sticking with a buddy. I'm talking to you, Jamie Lee Curtis. Stop separating from the group or listening to people who advise you to do so. If you had some pals, this would improve your chances in a fight, and maybe you'd have a better likelihood of keeping your pirate shirt on. Or, at the least, you could perhaps throw your buddy into the path of the knife wielding psycho, and preserve your own life in that way. Either way, better to have a friend around.

If you think any of these rules are too hard to follow, you might be stupid, in which case maybe you deserve to get on that train after all. For the rest of you, perhaps consider what I find myself considering, which is the allure of that other option. You can always choose to dress up like a pirate and drink at home alone.

Python to Cobra - Who's the Man?

Fri, 21 May 2010 14:47:19 -0800

How long has it been since we've watched a movie where my boyfriend Robert Mitchum valiantly fights a war and at some point winds up in a cave hiding from bad guys? Or one in which my boyfriend Robert Mitchum grapples (in a purely manly fashion, to be certain) with a love that can not be had? The answer, of course, is that it's been too long. It's also been too long since I wrote about a movie in which things blow up. So let's solve all these problems at once with a Korean war film in yummy Color by Deluxe called The Hunters.

Since my emotional interest in RM isn't going to come as any surprise, let's start instead with the explosions. Dick Powell's The Hunters is about fighter pilots in the Korean War. They drink and smoke and wear jaunty pilot uniforms and get supersonic with some REALLY OLD jets. There is a whole posse of them, but they deploy in smaller battle groups called squadrons. Robert Mitchum, naturally, is a leader of one of these squadrons. He's pretty much awesome at the piloting and the shooting down of the bad guys. And even though I have stressed how dated the jets are, watching these planes dance through the sky is still cool. It's one of those things where the scope and the spectacle is really well captured on film, as opposed to trying to imagine these aerial escapades through reading or in some other way. The jets get in dogfights up in the air over Korea, and when one succeeds in shooting down another one, it usually means an explosive, fiery, blown up end for someone. And as such, the stakes for our noble American flyboys are pretty high.

But, honestly, you can't call Robert Mitchum a boy at this point in his career. Though he very much appears to be too old for a combat assignment, the movie is self aware about that, and addresses and makes fun of his age several times, which I love. So what if the dude is old? If we learned anything from Gregory Peck, it's that age doesn't have any dampening effect on a true American hero's ability to kick ass. Kicking ass is a cinch for such fellows - negotiating the personalities, emotions and relationships of one's literal wingmen, however, is not. Especially, if, say, you've got a serious crush on May Britt, who plays the pretty blond wife of one of your wingmen, a wingman who happens to be inattentive to said pretty wife, is struggling with feelings of martial inadequacy, and is an alcoholic on top of that. Say pretty blond wife likes you back (because, well, you're my sexy boyfriend Robert Mitchum), but she cares still for her husband and wants you to look out for him when you go into battle. You can see how that could get complicated.

Initially with this movie, I was all about the romance. But with subsequent, more careful viewings, I came to also really dig the way this movie handles the issues of the war. To over-generalize, I think I expect certain ugliness and despair to be explored in more modern war films, but that older movies will gloss over some of that darkness with feel good glory and shiny patriotism. But I found that in this movie, the manly flyboys do talk about and struggle with the death and the despair they face - Robert Wagner's character, who's young and ballsy and cute, even cries. But these guys deal with the heavy stuff in a manly, nonchalant, unindulgent fashion. And you know Robert Mitchum wouldn't have it any other way.

My heart was broken the first time I saw the end of this movie. I was unwilling to believe it. The second time around I was hoping it would go down differently - it didn't. But I have come to appreciate the ending. I want to finish this entry with a witty conclusion about whether or not one can succeed as both a lover and a fighter, but I don't want to give anything away. Perhaps I can just say that it's not always easy to be a hero. Even for my boyfriend Robert Mitchum.

Being Smart and Attractive and Having A Dream is the Best

Fri, 21 May 2010 14:42:52 -0800

Not every movie on Fox Movie Channel features Technicolor murder, courtroom showdowns or crazies on the loose. I think a break from psycho murderers may be in order. A break that takes us to a time a little closer to our own: a time with pocket calculators and imported cars and liberated women. And into a story that involves hot young doctors in California in the early 90s trying to make it all work in life, love, and medicine. Meet a little story called Vital Signs.

Vital Signs is basically a fun romp of a movie. Watch as good looking young people have sex and struggle with their relationships and career aspirations! Sure, there are some overly melodramatic lines. (Like this one: "Look, Donald, you are a terrific surgeon. But what I need right now is someone who cares about the way I feel!" I didn't make that up.) There's also some cartoonish humor, a synthesized score to bang us over the head with what we ought to be feeling, and a Daddy Issues storyline. But in its defense, there are a few moments that are delightful or amusing or at least diverting. Being young and smart and good looking and chasing a dream - man, that's the way to be.

I'm not going to lie, this movie feels a lot like TV. Lots of TV actors - try to count, I dare you - trying to fill the big screen. Lots of little stories and little relationship developments adding up to 103 minutes of movie. Also, someone on the production bought a steam machine and then someone else made sure it got used more than once. Have you ever had an intense conversation about your life with someone you want to sleep with some steam jetting behind you? Or had athletic sex in a hospital laundry room that has unlikely purple mood lightning? Like I said, diverting.

After having watched this movie a few too many times, I am curious about a few things. Why did fearless, smart, and attractive lead surgeon Jimmy Smits fly to New York, just when he's most needed? What was going on there? And who was he doing? He's basically the only character who's sex life is not explored, and that omission plus my general interest in his hotness makes me curious what he's up to and who he's into. But I guess if I knew everything about every character, this movie might officially transform into a TV show.

In the end, we learn that there is nothing like an ER full of burn victims to bring doctors together. But seriously, haven't we always known that to be true? And beyond even that, we discover that it is possible for the best looking doctor and the second best looking doctor - who are in a smartness competition - to work it out. People wind up happy. It's all so tidy when you are young and smart and good looking and have a dream.

Ah, the early 90s: I could write a whole exploration of the clothing alone in this movie. Light wash jeans. Diane Lane's shoulder pads. That horrible multi-color sweater Laura San Giacomo wears when she's sharing important emotions with her husband. The fact that Adrian Pasdar's jeans are too high and his shirts are too tight. Now I'm willing to admit that he is a cute dude. But the outfit he wears in the very last scene of Vital Signs is unforgivable. You might want to watch the whole movie just to see it. Until you do, I'll leave you with a few choice last words: Exposed. Man. Midriff.

Coordinating Lipstick and Murder

Fri, 21 May 2010 14:35:10 -0800

You know how it goes: meet a girl with great cheekbones, fall in love among the stunning scenery of New Mexico, get married, and watch as people around you start to die. Encounter the title Leave Her to Heaven without seeing the movie, and it has such an angelic ring - it sounds like a movie about a lady with a heart of gold destined for a better place. Looking at Gene Tierney's porcelain doll visage could confirm that idea, but therein lies the trap. Because quite in contrast to something heavenly, this is a movie about a chick - Ellen Berent, played by Tierney - who's anything but good. (By the way, get ready for spoilers, cause I am about to blow up some wicked plot points.)

I remember in the early 90s when Single White Female and Indecent Proposal came out, it kind of felt like crazy murderous chicks were a fresh film idea. But Leave Her to Heaven had about a fifty year head start on the concept. Ellen Berent is so pretty and so devoted to Cornel Wilde's character Richard, that some early red flags are missed, like her saying crazy stuff about him looking like her father, or the fact that she could probably kill someone with her cheekbones alone. The more Ellen feels other people impinge on her relationship with Richard, the more crazy murderous she gets. There is one scene where Ellen willfully watches someone dear to her husband die, in a manner so coldblooded and disturbing that I wonder how it got by the censors at the time - I mean, this movie is from 1945. Later Ellen thinks she can repair things with husband Richard by having a baby, but then loses interest in the idea, upon coming to the conclusion that the pregnancy itself is a threat to their relationship. Ellen then dolls up in what I will call her special baby killing lipstick and special baby killing heels and takes some measures to alter her family way.

After that, when things have shockingly not improved with her hubby, she gets truly creative with her next murderous impulse. This time, she chooses to eliminate someone you will not expect, and to craftily frame her cousin for the death, because she jealously suspects said cousin and her hubby of having an affair. Her cousin, played by Jeanne Crain, also has remarkable cheekbones, and though she is less crazy or evil, she's the one now facing a murder trial. (I have discovered that many of these older dramas feature courtroom showdowns, often wherein people have to admit secret love tearfully on the stand. You can look for such a moment in this film. And, while you're at it, check out Vincent Price playing a lawyer.)

I know I have already given away some big plot points, but I am going to try to avoid spoiling the end. Let's just say, I think we're supposed to think this movie has a happy ending, for a few of the characters at least. But I actually wind up thinking that maybe twisted Ellen was right about a thing or two. Not about all the murdering, of course, but if you watch it, you might see what I mean. And whether or not you come to the same conclusion, you'll be treated to a surprisingly creepy Technicolor treat.

Sociopath vs. Sociopath

Fri, 21 May 2010 14:29:40 -0800

Black, white and creepy all over: you need only watch the first four minutes of Compulsion to get a serious dose of disturbing behavior. Watch the whole thing and you'll be treated to a story that's so wildly whacked out and psychologically troubling that it's still intriguing and unsettling today, even though it was made in 1959. And - as if this intense psycho thriller could get any creepier - it's inspired by a true story.

Directed by Richard Fleischer and Richard D. Zanuck's first foray into producing, Compulsion is based on the rather infamous 1924 Leopold Loeb murder case from Chicago. Since this is a movie where the audience knows whodunit all along, forgive me if I jump right into the details. Leopold and Loeb were wealthy, academically advanced teenagers enrolled in the University of Chicago who were convicted of killing a younger teenage boy and sentenced to life in prison after a widely publicized trial. Why did they do it? Why did they kidnap a random boy, bludgeon him to death, pour acid on him and stuff him in a culvert, and then send his family a ransom note, after stopping for a few hot dogs? Because, well, they wanted to try out murder. And they thought themselves so superior that they could commit the perfect crime.

In some ways the true story this movie is based on is so weird and troubling, that you might argue that the filmmakers didn't have too much work to do. I mean, the real life Nathan Leopold (the guy on whom Dean Stockwell's character is based) really did pursue ornithology as a hobby - talk about freaky murderer pastimes. And the fact that his glasses were dropped at the scene where the body was dumped was in actuality a telling clue that blew up the real case, not just some movie mystery device. But, by using canted camera angles, heavy handed music cues, and parsing out details slowly, the film does manage to deliver on suspense and creepiness. In one scene the character based on Loeb has a conversation with a teddy bear. It's sinister and it's effective and it's the result of filmmaking creativity.

In keeping with what was acceptable for the time period in which it was made, the movie does avoid the brutality of the crime (it's not actually depicted) and it also avoids overtly delving into certain complexities of the boys' relationship, such as whether their entanglement was homosexual, and how that may have affected their motivations. But sometimes leaving an audience to its own imagination can be a very effective movie trick. Since the kidnapping, the murder, the dumping of the body, and the moments after are not on screen, you almost can't stop thinking about how they did it. And it puts the viewer in the perspective of the everyman following the details of this salacious crime and show trial back in 1924, who would be wondering about those details himself.

Did I mention that none other than Orson Wells plays the boys' lawyer, a character based on Clarence Darrow, who actually defended the pair with remarkable eloquence? I know I didn't. I just can't get past the psychological weirdness and intensity of it this whole story. Watch Compulsion to get the entire experience yourself. And don't forget your glasses.

More Than Meets The Eye

Fri, 21 May 2010 14:17:40 -0800

The first thing I remember seeing of Peyton Place turned out to be the last shot, where two children on bicycles crisscross their way up a bucolic town street. It was evocative in a sentimental way, and my interest was piqued, but by then the movie was already over. Here at work I sometimes watch movies on our channel out of the corner of my eye, catching scenes out of order and out of context. On another day, I caught a vision of a pretty blond teenage girl in a full blue skirt running through the woods, terrified by a scary dirty man chasing her. That really caught my attention, so I tuned in, but still only saw part of the film. But enough that I came back for all of it.

The truth is, when I initially encountered the title Peyton Place on a list of movies that I had to do some work on, I couldn't have been less interested. It sounded to me like some saccharin fifties era bundle of lies about American life, and I made no plans to watch it. (Especially not when we have like, what, half a dozen Alien Nation movies I need to catch up on? I mean, come on, I have priorities.) But my preconception was all wrong. There's a lot more than meets the eye to Peyton Place, and that, in itself, is exactly what this movie is all about. Allison MacKenzie, the protagonist played by Diane Varsi, puts a point on it, saying that "Everybody in this town hides behind plain wrappers." Because, behind the cute outfits and Labor Day parades and tidy clapboard houses, some real shit goes down in Peyton Place.

Let me give you a little more info. The story centers around the graduating high school class of 1941 in a quaint New England town. The young adults struggle (particularly with their parents) to grow up and find their way, while the adults of the town have some problems and secrets of their own. There is a pervasive social pressure to keep up appearances, but in reality, things are not what they seem. I'm not gonna tell you who does what, but let's just say that within this seemingly ideal little town, people gossip, lie, drink, fight, get laid, and slap their children. There's a suicide, a rape and a murder. Hope Lange's character in particular goes through some dark, dark stuff. And in addition to all that, you can count on World War II to come along and complicate things. The story is carefully constructed and compelling, each character has something to do, each scene serves a purpose. It is long, but hey, it's in Cinemascope and Lana Turner looks hot in lots of different outfits. The movie really captures a sense of time and place different from our own, which is something I love in a film. But, at the same time, the central idea of the film still seems fresh 50 years later.

Now, make no mistake: all my praises aside, there is some big time melodrama in Peyton Place. Particularly when it comes to the romance between Mrs. MacKenzie - Lana Turner's emotionally stiffened character - and Mr. Rossi, the impressive stranger played by Lee Philips who comes into town and tries to unlock her heart. There's one emotional confrontation between them that's almost laugh out loud funny. Never in reality does someone just blow into your life and start yelling at you about how you handle your emotions. But that is why we have melodrama (and bad action movies), so we can have characters distill one another's inner lives into over simplified dialogue. And man do I love it.

Peyton Place was nominated for 9 Oscars in 1958, acclaim I think it wholly deserves. But it was totally shut out! I wonder how the studio and the creators felt about that. (Interestingly, that's the same year Heaven Knows, Mr. Allison was in the running! I am turning into a 50s movie junkie.) Luckily for us, even if it wasn't recognized by the Academy, we can still appreciate and enjoy it today. So file this one on the growing list of movies from the fifties that surprise and impress me. Because Peyton Place holds up to the test of time, and totally exceeds expectations.

Who Likes Jugs?

Fri, 21 May 2010 14:05:15 -0800

Um, I kind of want to say that Mother, Jugs & Speed is the best movie we've got on Fox Movie Channel right now. But then I am quick to remember Point Break and Die Hard and Romancing the Stone and some of the other shiny gems of our catalog, and I realize I must reserve declaring a superlative best. But this one is way the hell up there.

I didn't watch the Peter Yates' film Mother, Jugs & Speed for months because I was superlatively turned off by the title. Specifically the word Jugs in the title, unsurprisingly. But I wound up watching it on the recommendation of my boss, which was way fortunate because it's so good. (Plus now I get the title. Which I could explain to you, but I won't, and instead just leave the mystery hanging out there as another impetus for you to watch the movie.)

Mother, Jugs & Speed is about a lawless Los Angeles ambulance crew and the many situations - ranging from misadventures to disasters - that the drivers encounter and alternately create. It stars one of film's all time hotties, Raquel Welch, one of America's great funnymen, Bill Cosby, and one of modern cinema's renowned actors, Harvey Keitel. And Larry Hagman's in it too. It's laugh out loud funny, heartbreaking at moments, and really well written. And Bill Cosby's character wears fingerless gloves, drinks beer in his ambulance and receives a massage involving multiple vibrators. What other movie offers even a fraction of all that?

Something awesome happened in American cinema in the 70s. Filmmakers started making movies about real people, real behavior, real life crazy shit. Like sex, drugs, death, drugs, indifference and more drugs. And they dared to be irreverent in their treatment of these things. Like M*A*S*H, the classic of the genre (if you want to call it a genre), this movie is brilliantly irreverent, delicately dancing between black and poignant and hilarious. Unlike M*A*S*H, Mother, Jugs & Speed has a well-constructed story, with characters that develop and storylines that pay off. Even the jokes have legs. But this smartly dovetailing plot is really just a backdrop to the performances, the comedy, the irreverence and the heart. M, J and S even manages to answer the question of what a human life is worth, and it does so within a minute or so of the movie's start.

Each one is worth $42.50. Plus mileage.

Did Somebody Say Miracle Drug?

Fri, 21 May 2010 14:03:12 -0800

It's no secret that I like bad movies from the eighties. They're one of my favorite things. But lately I keep finding interesting films where I least expect them, and by that I mean really good movies from the fifties. A perfect example of this is Bigger Than Life, a brilliantly directed Nicholas Ray film about addiction, mental illness, and the insanity of the domestic situation of the fifties. A Cinemascope gem, bathed in that perfectly delicious artificial Color by Deluxe, this one delivers in composition and content and fifties madness.

Ed Avery, played by James Mason, gets some weird disease that causes him a lot of pain, and that will kill him if he doesn't take a magic pill that is fortunately available to him. But he starts taking it too much, and consequently he starts BUGGING OUT. His wife, son and close family friend played by Walter Matthau grapple helplessly with his escalating mental illness. Though Ed denies any ill effects from the magic pill, his doctor warns that "Sometimes we see it produce some pretty queer mental effects." Queer, like, say, very enthusiastically buying your wife dresses you can't afford? Abusing your son with vigorous football practice followed by vigorous math problem sets? Berating the milkman about how much the milk bottles jingle and jangle? Ed's madness is at times comic; his family's paralysis at dealing with it is horrific.

I suspect that a contemporary review of Bigger Than Life wouldn't look at the flaws of the domestic situation of post-war America as one of the core motifs of the movie, but it's inescapable in a modern viewing. It's the heart of the problem depicted. The sort of Feminine Mystique, institutionalized craziness of being a housewife that dictated that you defer to your man in all ways is really pushed to its warped limits when your guy becomes a LOONY who refuses to let your son eat and accuses you of getting it on with Walter Matthau and yet YOU STILL DO WHAT HE SAYS. The movie spotlights how these suffocating artificial constructs about the way relationships and finances and appearances were supposed to be effectively made it impossible for this family to cope with something as demanding as insanity. Either Barbara Rush's character's behavior is really representative of how a wife would've tried to deal with a nutjob husband back in the day, or she's just a major sap. I wonder.

Like Ray's more well known Rebel Without a Cause, in scene after scene of Bigger Than Life you can see the careful thought that went into staging the actors and placing the camera. Lights and shadows and camera angles are all very deliberately used. No detail or symbol is overlooked, from the broken bathroom mirror to the delightful choice that circus music blare from the TV at the height of Ed's psychosis, to an ominous red light at the hospital. We may as well just call it the crazy light. So if you're in the mood for some crazy (either of the pill popping or domestic oppression variety), or of you want to know whether the crazy light is on or off by the end of this tale, take a break from your own day to catch Bigger Than Life.

Gregory Peck, Part 2: Still A Hero

Fri, 21 May 2010 14:00:37 -0800

Ready for more Gregory Peck? As though you could ever have enough. Make time to check out J. Lee Thompson's The Chairman, another intense - but of course, amusingly dated - political thriller. The international military political tangle of The Chairman is just as opaque and messy as the one in Night People, only set in a different part of the world. Still true: Commies are bad. Also still true: Gregory Peck is the man.

The Chinese have isolated a magic enzyme that allows them to grow wheat in the jungle and pineapple in the snow. This empowers Mao-dictated red China with the ability to strong arm the rest of the hungry world, but luckily we in the Western world have our own super weapon: Gregory Peck (of course). This time he happens to be a genius chemist, so America (with a little participation from Britain and the Soviet Union) sends him in to try to lift the magically delicious formula with some crafty, enzyme mapping, ping pong diplomacy.

What's changed in the fifteen years since Night People - notably - is that maybe, just maybe, America isn't quite as purely righteous. Or right. This interesting shift is demonstrated in that now instead of just relying on the true patriotism and natural heroism of GP, he gets sent in with a transmitter implanted in his head, so that all of his conversations can be monitored and his every move tracked. And nothing keeps a thriller riveting like some good old, dated technology. There's a whole room of military scientists devoted to listening to his activities and monitoring his vitals with dials and tickers and the like, which is particularly entertaining when the Reds try to compel Gregory Peck to be entertained by a bright young naked thing by the name of Ting Ling. And though Gregory Peck doesn't know it, beyond just their power of omnipresent observation, maybe the guys running this operation can detonate the little transmitter in his brain and blow him to pieces if he gets out of line. The American military man who is controlling this operation wears glasses with one tinted eye, so we know for sure that this situation is dubious.

Even armed as he is with his patented manliness, knowledge of Chinese, and a mastery of chemistry that turns out to have more than one application in these spy games, can Gregory Peck get the job done and overcome the Red Terror all around him? And what about the danger that may be in his own head, courtesy of the U. S. of A.? Can America be trusted anymore than China with the magic enzyme? This movie asks that question, and thereby presents an uncertain picture of America and of the security of our world. But one thing still remains true: we can always count on Gregory Peck.

When Gregory Peck Protected Our World

Fri, 21 May 2010 13:57:10 -0800

Welcome to Part One of my exploration of how Gregory Peck is an all-American ass kicker. I have recently learned via watching Fox Movie Channel that before Will Smith took up the mantle of saving the world, Gregory Peck used to hold the job. Except where Will usually defends the whole world from threats posed by aliens, robots, or zombies, Gregory Peck used to guard America in particular from villainous international foes. And international human foes can be pretty scary. Like zombie scary. Which is why we're lucky that Gregory Peck took care of business in the Night People in 1954 and that he was still taking care of business 15 years later in The Chairman. (Which I'll get to in Part Two.)

I initially watched the Nunnally Johnson film Night People simply because the title is so good. It's set in occupied Berlin in the 50s, and the military political situation is super tense. Gregory Peck plays Colonel Van Dyke, a soldier diplomat who talks fast and sure and intimidates and impresses people with his fast sure talking. He sometimes has to sleep in because all this tricky international business keeps him up late at night (thus the film's title). Like when a young American soldier gets abducted by the Ruskies, who may in fact be some holdover bad Germans. To complicate things, the abducted kid's Dad blows into Berlin - from Toledo, no less - and demands "Action." Dad, quite nicely played by Broderick Crawford, is used to being the fastest surest talker in town - but he's out of his league in divided Berlin. And certainly no match for Gregory Peck.

The situation is a hot mess, but GP, being the able fast-talking protector of our way of life that he is, navigates the whole murderous, double-crossing, poison-laced jumble and probably still makes it to his 1 AM poker game. And I think he's doing his secretary. It's implied, although ambiguous, since he's always bossing her around - or was that supposed to be normal? He also repeatedly calls a nurse "Nursey." And at one point, while talking about this hottie German Frau who negotiates some of this international intrigue as his agent (and who he also has a history of doing), he proclaims that "If that dame's banging away at the absinthe tonight I'll shoot her straight through the head so help me." In other words, he was the man. And America was lucky to have him.

The lesson of this movie is that if Gregory Peck takes you in his arms and says, "It's alright baby," and he says it fast and sure, it is. You can believe him. That is, of course, unless you're a two-timing, double agent, identity thieving, absinthe-banging Nazi spy. In that case he'll knock you out cold and ship your Kraut carcass off to the Russians. Because Gregory Peck kicks ass for America, so the rest of us can sleep soundly.

Fox Movie Channel Furry Watch - June 2009 Update

Fri, 21 May 2010 13:53:24 -0800

I found another Furry on Fox Movie Channel!

THE MOVIE: Moving Violations

THE FURRY: A Duck (extra special bonus points for it not even being a mammal)

THE SITUATION: The duck is getting arrested! And I don't know why! All I know is, this is Furry situational gold. To top things off, the duck is getting pulled out of a paddy wagon that appears to be loaded with other handcuffed Furries. You can see a leopard or something in the background of this picture.

Moving Violations is about a madcap group of traffic violators and the uptight cops who make their lives miserable. It's from 1985, so I figured I would watch it, thinking there might be a high likelihood of my being amused. But then I wound up getting distracted by work, and not fully watching it. Not that it requires a great deal of attention. The bad drivers want their driving privileges restored, a few romances brew, the cops have really uptight sex, and there is some girl with some strange hypochondria. Towards the end of the movie everyone starts running (because they can't drive?) in some sort of climatic rush to a government office, the cops (one in leather shorts - watch to learn more) chasing the driving students, a mass of people rushing the building, and that's when I first saw the handcuffed duck, who's swept up in this mess. And I was very pleased.

I don't know what the duck did to get arrested. The logical assumption might be that the duck committed some sort of moving violation. But what if it was embezzlement? Armed robbery? Solicitation? My mind wanders. I could just watch it more carefully to find out. Or you could watch it and solve the mystery for yourself.

Impossible Love

Fri, 21 May 2010 13:48:05 -0800

Let me introduce you to John Huston's Heaven Knows, Mr. Allison. A story about a man, a woman, an island and a war. A movie from the fifties with palpable performances from Robert Mitchum and Deborah Kerr. A movie about impossible love and real violence. Now we know that love and war are inherently good fodder for film, and we know my opinion about how good acting is what really elevates a movie into something more. This movie delivers on the emotion and the conflict and, importantly, on the acting. Which is a coup, considering how many other movies from that time period are, shall we say, pre-Method. Pre-Method Production Code love stories sometimes make me want to throw up. But thankfully, Heaven Knows, Mr. Allison is well acted, and it's also a good story. (Plus it's in Color by Deluxe. And man do I love color processed film.)

Let us start with impossible love as a good movie device. It's really at the core of so many movies. Impossible as in I am a dainty, classically trained ballet dancer from a privileged background, and you are a thuggy inner city street dancing janitor. Impossible like I am a manly, good looking flannel wearing cowboy and you are a manly, good looking, flannel wearing cowboy. Impossible like that - only in this case, even more so. Because I'm a killing machine Marine and you're a devoted-to-God nun. And we're trapped on an island together, relying on each other for survival, surrounded by the falling bombs of the Pacific theater of World War II. All we have is each other and our fear, and yet we can't get together. And that sure makes it complicated.

There is a reality to this situation which makes everything these characters endure so critical - the stake of real violence. This isn't a freaky Green Goblin ruining a parade. Not some made up aliens or zombies or cars that have transformed into giant humanoid machines in order to carry out an intergalactic fight on our planet. This is mother f-ing World War II, and there are people, lots of real people with real guns, who really want to kill our nun and our Marine. And still, they can't get together. . .

Now I told you straight up that I was going to be a sap with this one. It's a love story more than a war story, and it just punches my secret romantic right in the stomach. Being marooned on an island in the midst of a brutal war forces this unlikely pair into a necessary intimacy. But then the fact that they can't get together is perfectly agonizing, and excruciatingly punctuated by all the moments they share. If you are at all looking for a romantic fix, this is it. Plus Robert Mitchum is all hot and hunky - tough yet vulnerable, brutal yet heroic, doltish in ways but perceptive in others. And also adorable. I would be willing to be stuck on an island with him. But that would be a different story entirely.

Six Reasons to Watch Six Pack

Fri, 21 May 2010 13:40:06 -0800

1. See Kenny Rogers jump. Well, dive. Actually, no- it's more like he assumes a diving position, but then he straight up belly flops into a river. I've seen it a few times now, and it continues to make me laugh out loud. It's priceless.

2. See Kenny Rogers fall - in head-to-toe matching denim - out of an outhouse window onto a pile of tires. (Okay, so I like watching Kenny Rogers fall. I don't have anything against him, I just find it to be pretty entertaining.)

3. Because while you watch, you can imagine how this movie came to be:
     "Kenny Rogers is a huge star - let's get him into a movie!"
     "Yes! But what would the story be?"
     "Well, naturally we could team him up with a pack of wily, thieving-but-lovable young orphans."
     "The orphans could steal car parts and be excellent mechanics!"
     "And Kenny Rogers could be a NASCAR driver! That way we could fill lots of time with car races and keep the orphans involved."
     "And we can cast a gorgeous woman to costar - got to get some of those soft Kenny Rogers kisses on screen."
     "The orphans and Kenny Rogers won't get along in the beginning, but later, because everyone is so inherently lovable, they will realize they need each other!"
     "This movie's gonna be the best."
     "It'll be gold."
   I like to think it might've happened something like that. You can make up your own scenario though- it's fun.

4. Because this movie teems with unexpected talent. See very early screen performances from a young Diane Lane and a young Anthony Michael Hall as they tear it up as part of the Six Pack. Imagine- more than 25 years later and they still have careers. You might also recognize Kenny Rogers' lady love, Erin Gray, as the mom from Silver Spoons and Colonel Deering from Buck Rogers in the 25th Century. And Kenny's big bad racing nemesis? Though it might take you a moment to recognize him playing a living person, this is none other than Terry Kiser, the infamous Bernie of Weekend At Bernie's. Also, there is a back country high speed chase scene between an RV and a box truck. (Okay, so that's actually more than one reason that I squeezed into one point. This movie is overflowing with entertainment, what else could I do?)

5. Because when else can you watch an entire movie starring one of country music's finest without any sequins or any excruciating country music performances? (Then again, if you're into that kind of thing, consider checking out the Fox Movie Channel classic, Rhinestone.) Come on now: that's a strong selling point.

6. Because, seriously, when was the last time you spent a little quality time with Kenny Rogers?

When Dead People Turn To Sugar

Fri, 21 May 2010 13:35:33 -0800

Imagine it's the seventies. You have a 70s haircut and cars are really big and made in America. Without warning, the sun sort of blows up, releasing a blinding, earthquaking flare. People start dying - but not you. And not the birds or the trees or the dogs, though they pretty much freak out. After someone dies, he disintegrates, leaving behind a pile of sugar in the outline of what had been his body. You're in the 1974 made-for-TV movie Where Have All the People Gone? A quiet disaster movie. Low-budget, no effects. And that is what makes it fun. Just simple storytelling, building uncertainty, an experiment in our fear of the end. Punctuated by piles of sugar.

I am always pleased when the people who stay alive in the face of cataclysmic movie disasters are capable survivors and give mankind a fighting chance. Seriously, if the world is threatened by hostile CGI aliens or hostile CGI zombies, who better to provide humanity's last stand than Will Smith? Like with this family: lucky for them that the dad, played Peter Graves, is super chilled out and level-headed and virtually immune to stress, and the brother, played by George O'Hanlon, is some sort of physics wunderkind. If everyone was wiped out and only my brother and I remained, we'd be awesome at saving the world, if it depended on our ability to do crossword puzzles and watch Star Trek reruns. Not so sure we'd do that well with operating guns and fixing cars and makeshift medicine. This family, on the other hand, knows how to do everything from testing for radiation to fighting wild dogs.

Father, son, and daughter (a young Kathleen Quinlan) head off to Malibu, hoping to be reunited with their beloved wife and mother. Along the way they encounter widespread sugar, a few other random survivors, and quite a few problems. I get really easily turned off by CGI and almost always prefer practical effects, so I found the sugar kind of charming, and it can even be freaky if you let go and let yourself believe. Or you can think it's totally stupid, in which case it is still amusing. Turns out Malibu is a nice place to go even when everyone is dead. (And imagine how fast you could drive on the freeway with no one else around! It would be sweet.) There is still more trouble ahead for the family, but then the movie kind of peters out and ends on an almost inappropriately upbeat note. Maybe if this movie wasn't made for TV they could've gotten a bit more brutal with it and seen it through to some sort of conclusion, which I would've liked. Then again, the fact that it's really low budget is a big part of its charm. It's a lot more original and engaging than your average made-for-TV movie, and it leaves you wanting more. Check it out next time you need a sugar fix.

Should I feel bad about this?

Fri, 21 May 2010 13:30:57 -0800

Forget pregnancy. Forget commitment phobia, relationship turmoil and preying mantis nightmares. Forget Hugh Grant's endearing puppy dog expressions and baby stuff all together.

Let's talk about the weird fact that Jeff Goldblum is kind of hot in the Chris Columbus movie Nine Months. He doesn't have a big part at all, but I find him oddly fixating. He plays this unemployed yet fairly privileged freewheeling artist, whose life consists of drinking wine, playing tennis, and sleeping with nineties San Fran cuties. His is the kind of life that would be awesome to lead, but really annoying if your friend was living while you worked 50 hours a week and battled a nasty commute. But, then again, this is a movie, and perhaps I should suspend my reality a little more readily and enjoy the escape. Jeff's strangely fascinating character takes time out of his pretty life to occasionally give Hugh Grant's scaredy baby daddy character advice, advice that ranges from insightful to worthless to detrimental. But, honestly, I find all the family baby stuff in this movie to be pretty whatever, compared to the shock that I admittedly find The Fly to be attractive, and that I keep watching for his next appearance. I mean, he wears his shirts too unbuttoned and his hair too gelled and he has a really unappealing earring. But Jeff Goldblum - who I do think is a very good actor, but who I don't think I ordinarily find hot - makes him charming to the point that even his duplicity becomes likable. That or I am losing my mind. Which could totally be the case.

Also, there's a scene in this movie where Hugh Grant and Tom Arnold deliver a beat down to a Dinosaur Furry. And that is something I am glad is captured on film. Now, don't go telling your friends that I support mascot abuse - I just find people in fursuits to be totally amusing. And doubly worth mentioning, because offhand I can't think of any other Fox Movie Channel movie with a Furry in it. Yet another reason to keep watching.