THE
BONFIRE OF THE VANITIES (1990)
In the film wasteland of the 1980s and early
‘90s, there were plenty of films just as inept as this misguided adaptation of
Tom Wolfe’s sensational best seller.
When I saw the film in 1990, I didn’t quite
get why so many were loudly disappointed; it was just your average bad movie to
me.
But its reputation as a classic Hollywood
disaster has survived 30 years after its release, in large part because of Wall
Street Journal writer Julie Salamon’s book about the troubled production, “The
Devil’s Candy,” which came out a year later. Turner Classic Movies is
revisiting the film’s creation in its “The Plot Thickens” podcast, narrated by
Salamon and featuring her scratchy interviews recorded during the production.
Seeing the movie again, after having just
read the novel, I now understand how badly it missed the mark set by Wolfe.
Neither director Brian De Palma or screenwriter Michael Cristofer (he had just
ruined the film version of “The Witches of Eastwick”) seemed to comprehend that
to make a convincing satire everyone needs to play it straight. Outside of a
few successful scenes, the filmmakers turned the novel into a broad, bumbling
comedy.
Problem No. 1 was the casting of Tom Hanks
as Sherman McCoy, the Wall Street bond broker who struts through life,
imagining himself, in Wolfe’s oft-quoted phrase, a “master of the universe.” Before
the ‘90s, the highlights of Hank’s career were the lightweight, family hits
“Splash” and “Big.” His screen image was, essentially, as an overgrown kid.
Yes, McCoy is a self-deluded fool, but he needed to be played with strained
seriousness.
Yet this was a big-budget Hollywood film,
which demanded a major star and a somewhat likable lead character. That is not
what “Bonfire” is all about. None of these characters are likeable. Equally
despicable is the tabloid journalist Peter Farrow, who distorts the facts,
prints rumors and speculation, while being manipulated by an influential
African American minister, Rev. Bacon (John Hancock).
Farrow is played by Bruce Willis as the
coolest guy in the room. His drunken, unethical behavior quickly becomes lost
in the film’s opening single-shot scene (Vilmos Zsigmond’s camera work is a
highlight) of him misbehaving as he’s escorted to a speaking engagement. Farrow
also narrates the film, giving him a respectability that Wolfe must have been
shocked by.
For those who haven’t seen the movie or
read the novel, McCoy finds himself in hot water when his mistress (Melanie
Griffith), after they lose their way in the Bronx driving from the airport,
sideswipes a young black man, who, with a friend, seem ready to rob McCoy.
When the youth slips into a coma, Rev. Bacon
makes political hay by demanding the district attorney’s office find the car
involved and, when Sherman’s Mercedes is identified, that he be prosecuted to
the fullest extent of the law. This
works well for the politically ambitious DA (F. Murray Abraham), who is anxious
to show that his office doesn’t just prosecute Blacks and Latino criminals.
At some point, DePalma realized that with
two sympathetic white stars at the top of the cast there needed to be a
minority voice as the story told of the deep racial divide of 1980s New York
(and the country). So he replaced Alan Arkin with Morgan Freeman to play the
judge in McCoy’s court case and gave him a long, ridiculously heartfelt speech
to end the film.
Instead of Wolfe’s points that lying and corruption
have undermined all of our institutions—religion, justice, finances,
journalism—audiences are left with a “can’t we all get along” showstopper.
I’ve argued time and time again that
movies should never be judged by their source material. DePalma and producer
Peter Gruber, the passionate originator of this picture, had the right to make
any film they wanted out of Wolfe’s novel. But not only did they leave out all
of Wolfe’s important themes, but what’s left on the screen fails on virtually
every artistic level. Even worse, it’s just marginally entertaining.
IN
THE HEIGHTS (2021)
While this high-energy musical tries a bit
too hard to turn its characters into symbols of their race—while the same
characters lament the pressure of representing—it brings a community to life in
stylish dance numbers and a smooth mix of rap and more traditional tunes.
This was “Hamilton” creator Lin-Manuel Miranda
first Broadway production, developed (with Quiara Alegria Hudes) while he was
attending Wesleyan University, telling the story of two young people from
Washington Heights, a New York city neighborhood of mostly Dominican heritage,
struggling to understand their dreams.
Anthony
Ramos plays Usnavi (the role originally sung by Miranda), the owner of the
neighborhood Bodega who is determined to return to the Domincan Republic to
rebuild his father’s beachside bar. His close friend Nina (singer Leslie Grace
in her first major acting role) has just returned from her first year at
Stanford and isn’t sure she wants to return.
Surrounding these two is a neighborhood
filled with colorful characters that, despite the unavoidable surreal aspects
of a musical, feel authentic, talking and reacting like actual humans.
Ramos, who played Hamilton’s son in
“Hamilton,” gives quite a performance here, serving as the narrator of the
story along with its star and kicking the film off with the infectious title
rap. Yet despite his upbeat screen presence, the characters on-again, off-again
romance with hairdresser Vanessa (Melissa Barrera), who dreams of being a
designer, wasn’t believable and felt forced.
In contrast, the other romantic couple
(Nina and Benny, played by Corey Hawkins) were very convincing.
The film, well directed by John M. Chu
(“Crazy Rich Asians”), like most musicals, is way too long (but not “La La
Land” long) and has about two too many endings before the real thing. But it’s
probably the best live-action musical Hollywood has produced in a long time
and, for me, was the perfect film to experience on the big screen after a long
COVID-caused absence.
THE
WOMAN IN THE WINDOW (2021)
Set almost entirely inside a dimly lit New York apartment,
this Hitchcock mash-up doesn’t offer much in the way of psychological insight
even though the main character is a therapist being treated by a psychologist.
But I found the film, on a purely entertainment
level, a diverting hour and 40 minutes, with yet another first-rate performance
by Amy Adams and solid supporting work from Gary Oldman and Julianna Moore. And
for fans of the best-selling novel by A.J. Finn, the script, adapted by Tracy
Letts (who also plays the psychologist), barely changes a sentence.
Anna (Adams) plays an agoraphobic woman
who seems to have suffered some catastrophic life event and now drinks and
watches movies all day and night (sounds like the perfect life, right?), when
she’s not spying on the goings-on in the apartments across the street. She
occasionally has phone conversations with her estranged husband and child, and
talks to her downstairs boarder, but otherwise has virtually no contact with
the outside world.
Until a teenage boy, who just moved in with
his parents across the street, brings her a gift (I’m not sure why) and they
strike up an unlikely friendship. A few days later, his mother (Moore) visits
and the two bond over a bottle of wine.
But when Anna thinks she witnesses the
woman being murdered—a la James Stewart in “Rear Window”—police and the husband
(Oldman) assure her that his wife (Jennifer Jason Leigh) is alive and well. Who
was this woman she met who claimed to be the wife and mother?
As the story peels back the details of
Anna’s life, the central murder mystery grows murkier, and she feels more
threatened in her self-imposed isolation. Director Joe Wright (“Darkest Hour”)
keeps the tension level high as he channels the works of the master of
suspense.
Adams continues her run of fine
performances that began with her Oscar-nominated role as the pregnant wife in
“Junebug” (2005)--she’s unquestionably one of America’s finest actresses. While
this film probably won’t result in her seventh nomination, she has two major
roles upcoming: in the screen adaption of the award-winning musical “Dear Evan
Hansen” and reprising her role as Giselle from “Enchantment” (2007).
THE
LONG HAUL (1957)
It’s easy to dismiss the acting skills of
Victor Mature, whose main claim to fame was his athletic physique and chiseled
profile that made him the perfect fit for Biblical adventure roles,
Ten years into his career, he was cast as
Samson, the legendary strongman in “Samson and Delilah” (1949) and then, in
1953, as Demetrius in “The Robe,” and in the 1954 sequel, “Demetrius and the
Gladiators.” It’s hard to separate Mature from these bare-chested,
sword-wielding Biblical warriors, roles that don’t exactly require classic
acting chops.
But before “Samson” made him a star, his
low-key presence served well as gunman Doc Holliday, Wyatt Earp’s righthand
man, in John Ford’s “My Darling Clementine” (1946) and then as the reformed thief
who rats on his accomplices after a jail sentence in “Kiss of Death” (1947).
Recently, I saw a trio of films that
made me reappraised Mature; his work in gritty crime pictures more than make up
for his hammy, pre-pants heroes.
In “I Wake Up Screaming” (a terrible
title), Mature is hot-shot promoter Frankie (the precursor to an agent, I
guess), who bets he can turn an attractive waitress (Carole Landis) into a
star. He does, but just as she’s ready for the big-time in Hollywood, she dumps
Frankie and then is murdered. Of course, he’s the prime suspect, especially
after he hooks up with the dead woman’s sister (Betty Grable). Supporting the
stars are Laird Cregar, as the dogged detective and the ubiquitous Elisha Cook
Jr.
In “Cry of the City” (1948), Mature plays
the hunter, not the hunted, a New York City detective, who grew up in Little
Italy with hardened criminal Martin Rome (noir stalwart Richard Conte), who,
after killing a cop, escapes from prison. Mature’s Det. Candella is determined
to bring Rome in while protecting Martin’s younger brother from getting
involved.
This noirish version of Cagney-O’Brien
relationship in “Angels With Dirty Faces” pushes the theory that poor
neighborhoods are a breeding group for criminality and gives Candella’s one too
many inspirational speeches. But director Robert Siodmak, who helmed the noir
masterpieces “The Killers” and “Phantom Lady,” keeps the focus on the mano a
mano between these two tough-guy personalities (originally Mature was cast as
Rome) from the mean streets.
More
off-beat, but featuring what may be Mature’s best performance, is “The Long
Haul,” a British film clearly influenced by American noir. He plays Harry, a
recently discharged soldier who wants to return to the states, but relocates to
England for his British wife, grudgingly taking a truck driving job. But he
loses that job through no fault of his own and ends up at a less reputable
company.
The film is an excellent study of how
easily a seemingly honest, ethical man finds himself on that slippery slope to
criminality. It doesn’t help when he falls for the girlfriend of his
gangster-like boss. Soon, Harry is willing to throw his life away for bombshell
Lynn (Diana Dors, the British Marilyn Monroe).
While the driving isn’t quite the
high-wire act presented in another British picture “Hell Drivers” (see last
month’s Thoughts), “Long Haul” allows Mature to display his full range as an
actor. Harry, though a former military man, isn’t a classic tough guy, yet
finds himself in that kind of world and definitely finds himself in uncharted
territory when he is thrown together with Lynn.
The gritty black and white photography
by Basil Emmott and fast-paced direction by Ken Hughes (whose odd career
includes the overwrought children’s film “Chitty Chitty Bang Bang” and the Mae
West cult classic “Sextette”), along with Mature’s complex performance, elevate
this B-movie material.
The
actor continued to spend too much time playing exotic warloads (“The Bandit of
Zhobe,” “Hannibal,” “The Tartars”) before retiring in the early 1960s. He returned
to essential play himself in the Peter Sellers vehicle “After the Fox” (1966)
before taking bit roles in the Monkees’ psychedelic picture, “Head” (1968) and
“Won Ton Ton: The Dog Who Saved Hollywood” (1976).
YOU
DON’T KNOW JACK (2010) and THE WIZARD OF LIES (2017)
After
his breakthrough film “Diner,” a much-quoted 1982 cult classic of young
adulthood, Barry Levinson became one of the go-to directors in Hollywood for
the next two decades. Crowd-pleasing
fare like “The Natural,” “Good Morning Vietnam,” “Rain Man” (winning best
director and best picture Oscars), “Bugsy” and “Wag the Dog,” just added to his
reputation as a hit maker; and then it stopped.
Levinson, seeing the writing on the wall,
pivoted to television as both a producer and director, specializing in cable
bio-pics on controversial figures, including Jack Kevorkian and Bernie Madoff.
Al Pacino, who like his director has
scored on cable playing a series of famous men, gives one of his best
late-career performances as the quirky doctor determined to provide a safe,
medically sound way for those in pain who want to end their lives.
“You Don’t Know Jack” chronicles
Kevorkian’s journey as he perfects his delivery system for euthanasia and
quickly spurs the furor of the religious right, led by a Michigan district
attorney. Because Kevorkian is an offbeat nonconformist in all aspects of his
personality, the film, despite its heartbreaking subject, has a comic
undertone, keeping it from becoming a sermon.
Levinson has also brought together a
first-rate supporting cast, with John Goodman as Jack’s best friend and medical
supplier, Susan Sarandon as a community advocate who aligns with Jack and
long-time character actress Brenda Vaccaro as the doctor’s long-suffering,
supportive sister.
Pacino, who a few years later played
another big-glasses-wearing nerd in “Paterno” (also under Levinson’s
direction), won a well-deserved Emmy for capturing the self-assured, stubborn
Kevorkian, who refused to let other’s moral beliefs deter his crusade, even
when it meant jail time.
Levinson again found the perfect actor for
his subject, casting Robert DeNiro in “The Wizard of Lies.” The role of Madoff,
the Wall Street titan who orchestrated the most elaborate Ponzi scheme in
financial history in the 1990s and early 2000s, falls right into the great
actor’s wheelhouse. Like the many gangsters DeNiro has portrayed, Madoff shows
loyalty to both family and employees while also displaying a hair-trigger
temper.
Unfortunately, the movie doesn’t match
DeNiro’s performance. In attempting to approach the story from many different
angles—Madoff’s relationship with his sons and wife, the dismantling of his
scheme, the FBI investigation, the failure of the SEC and the media coverage,
all framed with a jailhouse interview by a New York Times reporter—Levinson turns
the movie into a feature-length trailer, making it difficult to get a grip on
the financial details ($65 billion worth) or how this very smart man though it
was all going to end.
At points, the movie seems a tad
sympathetic to Madoff and portrays his sons and wife as victims rather than
co-conspirators or even enablers. The real victims, the hundreds whose life
savings were embezzled by Madoff, are given short shrift.
Like DeNiro, Michelle Pfeiffer, playing Ruth
Madoff, gives a memorable performance despite the convoluted structure. Both
earned Emmy nominations.
At 79, Levinson continues to work steadily
as a director and producer. The most interesting (and somewhat unbelievable) production
upcoming from the director is “Francis and the Godfather,” which will chronicle
the making of “The Godfather,” with Oscar Isaac as Francis Coppola and Jake
Gyllenhaal as producer Robert Evans. Despite my love of all things “Godfather,”
I cannot imagine this being anything less than a disaster; but I can hardly
wait.
THE
PROFESSOR AND THE MADMAN (2019)
When filmmakers fight with studios, the loser, inevitable, is the resulting movie. This picture, based on a best-selling nonfiction book by Simon Winchester, a project guided by Mel Gibson, was left orphaned when both the star and the director, Gibson protégé Farhad Safinia, failed to offer the needed promotion for this story of the creation of the Oxford English Dictionary.
It opened in the spring of 2019 with little
fanfare and mostly poor reviews. It can’t be denied that Gibson’s tattered
personal reputation doesn’t elicit much sympathy from anybody and co-star Sean
Penn is hardly a beloved figure in Hollywood.
Watching it unburdened by these prejudices,
I found it quite entertaining, with Gibson (despite a questionable Scottish
accent) giving one of his best performances in decades as James Murray, a
self-educated linguist who takes over a long-sputtering project to compile an
authoritative English-language dictionary in 1870s. Under constant pressure
from the snobbish Oxford headmasters, Murray and his team finally start making
progress when thousands of submissions of word usage arrive from Dr. William
Minor (Penn) of a London insane asylum.
By the time these two title characters
connect, the film has already presented Minor’s back story—probably more than
was necessary. In a nutshell, this Yale-educated American surgeon, believing to
be stalked by a man from the Civil War, kills an innocent Englishman and is now
a patient at the asylum, not, as Murray believes, the attending physician.
Considering the attitude of his Oxford
keepers—they already consider Murray an uneducated Scotsman not worthy of his
position—he keeps the truth about Minor to himself, which, inevitably, comes
back to hurt him.
The film’s weakest aspect is in the
relationship between Minor and the widow of the man he murdered, encouraged by
both Murray and a sympathetic guard (the always excellent Eddie Marsan), which
seems to suggest (surely under the influence of Gibson) that simple love is a
better cure to insanity than the prevailing medical treatments.
As both actors sport impressive 19th
Century-style beards (as if vying for a Longfellow/Whitman lookalike contest),
it’s easy to dismiss the performances, yet both do a fine job of bring these
little-known but fascinating characters alive. For Penn, one of the greatest
actors of his generation, this might be his best performance since his
Oscar-winning “Milk.” He’s mostly wasted his skills in second-rate productions
since then, becoming better known for his international relief organization; though
he’s been announced as the title character of an upcoming HBO miniseries on
controversial president Andrew Jackson.
Like so many historical films, compressing
30 years into two hours can lead to some confusing transitions and a baffling
lack of aging by some of the characters. But for me, the central story line,
which I’m amazed I had never read about before, and these two fascinating
figures, made for a pretty good film.
PHOTOS: Bruce Willis and Tom Hanks in "The Bonfire of the Vanities" (Warner Bros.)
Victor Mature and Diana Dors in "The Long Haul" (Warwick Film)
Robert DeNiro in "The Wizard of Lies" (HBO)
