Suburbia (1984).

The Scoop:
Back before she hit the (relatively) big time with "Wayne's World," Penelope Spheeris made several films chronicling the lives of disaffected punk kids in and around Southern California. This was the best.

Evan (Bill Coyne) is a bored, disaffected teen with troubles at home, so he runs away to join a band of young punks living in a desolate abandoned housing tract. The kids make an impromptu family of their own, stealing food when they need it and hanging around the punk clubs (including great appearances by the Vandals, D.I. and T.S.O.L.). But this antisocial idyll can last for long, and it eventually comes crashing down, with dire consequences.

Through Spheeris' vision, the suburbs become a bleak, nihilistic wasteland that drives its children to drop out of society -- and these teens are all too happy to go along for the ride. One of the remarkable things about this film is the way the script doesn't point fingers or lay blame at any one group for the kids' predicament, but instead offers a straightforward, honest look at their lives. Another remarkable facet is the collection of authentic performances by the unknown cast. Spheeris cast real punk kids off the street rather than professional actors because, she said, it would be easier to teach a punk to act than to teach an actor how to be a real punk. Her instincts paid off here.

Best Line:
"Happy Easter, asshole!"

Side Note:
One of those unknown punks in the cast was Michael Balzary, who grew up to find fame as Flea, bass player for the Red Hot Chili Peppers.

Companion Viewing:
"The Decline of Western Civilization" (1981).

Links:
IMDb.
The '80s Movies Rewind.

Take a Look:
The trailer:


Up your ass!


T.S.O.L. performs:


More music from D.I.:

Puttin' on the Ritz (1930).

The Scoop:
This dreary, stagy backstage musical chronicles the life of a vaudeville singer (played by real life vaudeville star Harry Richman) who hits the big time, forgets the little people who helped him, then eventually goes blind after drinking bad alcohol. Oh dear god, will the melodrama never stop?

Richman isn't a bad singer, although his style, typical of the vaudeville stage at the time, seems a little foreign to modern ears. His acting is a little over the top, though. But his costars -- including Joan Bennett and James Gleason -- hold their own better. The film was directed by Edward Sloman and the story was supplied by John W. Considine Jr., with the script by William K. Wells and Gleason.

Released during the depths the Great Depression, this surely did nothing to cheer up its audiences. Even the greatness of Irving Berlin's title song can't help it, although it was the first in a long line of films to use it. But at least the '30s slang is really goofy.

Best Line:
"Yer lettin' a society dame make a chump outta ya!"

Side Note:
Richman tried to create a movie career for himself with this film -- obviously, it didn't work. He only starred in two other movies. Unimaginatively enough, every character he played was named Harry.

Companion Viewing:
"Comet Over Broadway" (1938).

Links:
IMDb.

Take a Look:
In one of the few peppy moments of the film, Richman performs the title tune:

Mission to Mars (2000).

The Scoop:
Elements of "2001: A Space Odyssey," "Apollo 13," "Close Encounters of the Third Kind" and "Contact" collide in Brian De Palma's uneven space adventure about the first manned expeditions to Mars.

A scientific expedition, led by Don Cheadle, meets disaster on the Red Planet's surface, prompting international space station commander Tim Robbins to put together a rescue party (which includes Gary Sinise, Jerry O'Donnell and Connie Nielsen). The rescuers' rough, year-long journey to the surface takes up the bulk of the film's plot and nearly grinds it to a halt with its tedium. (Even De Palma's trademark suspense sequences are subpar here.)

After they finally make a hair-raising landing, the movie finally gets in gear for its intriguing final act, when the rescuers find the sole survivor (Cheadle) ranting madly about extraterrestrial intelligence. The action from this point is really the only reason to watch "Mission to Mars," even if you have to trudge through a clumsily expository introduction and the endless rescue journey to get to it.

What emerges is an exploration of the mythology surrounding the Cydonia Face (which has prompted true believers to adopt the movie as vindication of their conspiracy theories) and an explanation of life on Earth that eschews the obtuse spiritual speculations of those earlier films.

The screenplay-by-committee, full of predictable action and the occasional plothole, is the weakest link here. The actors are all strong, especially Cheadle, but unremarkable. And De Palma seems to be mailing it in, although he does rise to the occasion in a couple of key scenes. On the plus side are some good CGI effects and Ennio Morricone's incredible score. The sum total isn't exactly a winner, but it is enough to make "Mission to Mars" an interesting failure.

Best Line:
"You're just not man enough to wear jewelry."

Side Note:
The film is rife with scientific errors, not the least of which is the fact that all the planets are rotating in the wrong direction in the giant solar system model.

Companion Viewing:
"2001: A Space Odyssey" (1968), "Close Encounters of the Third Kind" (1977) and "Contact" (1997).

Links:
IMDb.
Movies For Guys.
The case for the Cydonia Face as an alien construct.
The case for the Cydonia Face as a natural phenomenon.
Wikipedia article on Cydonia.

Take a Look:
The slightly spoiler-riffic trailer:


A sample of Morricone's score:


Some square-jawed heroism (and spoilers):

How the West Was Won (1962).

The Scoop:
This is a big story told on a big canvas.

The tale of America's westward expansion is told through three generations of a single family, with plenty of exciting action, gorgeous photography and even a history lesson to boot. There are stars galore to suit the larger-than-life subject matter -- James Stewart, Gregory Peck, John Wayne, Debbie Reynolds, Henry Fonda, Richard Widmark, Robert Preston and Walter Brennan, just to name a few.

Filmed in Cinerama -- the wide screen megaformat that was a precursor to the modern IMAX format -- the cinematography still manages to dazzle even on the small screen at home; but it's the type of movie that should only be seen in letterbox, or not at all. The Cinerama process does wonders for the wide-open vistas of the West, and directors Henry Hathaway, John Ford, George Marshall and Richard Thorpe use that to full advantage. Cinerama's one drawback is the way it minimizes intimacy and human scale, but that hardly matters here. The crew of directors have found ingenious ways to work around it -- every frame is permeated with a sense of proud heroism that never grows preachy.

It's a corny sort of Americana, but it's one that's executed well. However if the story drags too much for you, you can just lose yourself in the fabulous visuals. A true American movie.

Best Bit:
The white-knuckle river rapids scene.

Side Note:
The uncredited narrator is Spencer Tracy.

Companion Viewing:
Something else equally epic from the same period -- say, "Ben Hur" (1959) or "It's a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World" (1962).

Links:
IMDb.
Fan site.
Wikipedia explains the Cinerama process.

Take a Look:
The trailer. Check out the cast of gazillions:


The train robbery:


Remember when movies had overtures and intermissions? Those were the days...

Dr. Goldfoot and the Girl Bombs (1966).

The Scoop:
Don't you just love the tagline on that poster?

Anyway, in this cheap Italian-produced sequel to "Dr. Goldfoot and the Bikini Machine," the nefarious doctor (Vincent Price) is back and making robot women again -- only this time, they explode. The plot involves another attempt to take over the world and it doesn't really make much sense.

In place of Frankie Avalon in the swinging teen heart-throb spy role we get Fabian trying to keep his fading career alive. Also along for the ride are Laura Antonelli (paid to do nothing but look gorgeous, and succeeding) and the terribly unfunny Italian comedy team of Franco and Ciccio (who never got popular in America for good reason).

Even with the addition of more girls, this terrible, slapsticky sequel can't even live up to the low standards of the first. It's so bad that Price has to stop the movie about 20 minutes through to deliver some pointless exposition directly to the audience, because it would be too hard to actually work it into the story. The final chase devolves into a bad silent movie (literally) before eventually taking a Strangelovian twist.

Watch it for the girls (and maybe a touch of '60s mod style), but otherwise stay away. Stay far away.

Best Line:
"Ah yes, an exact reproduction -- programmed for love and destruction!"

Side Note:
Directed by horror maestro Mario Bava, who obviously would do anything for a buck (or a lira).

Companion Viewing:
"Dr. Goldfoot and the Bikini Machine" (1965) or the "Batman" TV series.

Links:
IMDb.
Giallo Fever.

Take a Look:
The trailer:

The Chase (1994).

The Scoop:
How could something with such a great premise be so bad -- so earth-shatteringly, jaw-droppingly bad?

A convicted killer (Charlie Sheen) escapes police custody in Los Angeles, takes an heiress/socialite (Kristy Swanson) hostage and begins a high speed chase to Mexico and freedom. Tons of cops wind up on his tail, as do several TV news crews, who broadcast the chase live.

The television news' obsession with high speed freeway chases should be such a perfectly ripe topic for parody -- a softball any idiot could hit out of the park. And yet this movie utterly fails at its mission. It's not just that the script and acting are bad, because those are fairly run-of-the-mill problems. This movie tries hard to cross the boundary into full-scale Ed Wood style ineptitude -- all the freeway signs are obviously fake (what was wrong with the real freeway signs, anyway?), none of the police cars or uniforms match, and the list just goes on and on.

Writer/director Adam Rifkin, who was coming off the hilarious "The Dark Backward" (1991) really blew it here. The definitive parody of freeway chases is still waiting to be made.

Best Bit:
The best part isn't even in the movie proper -- it comes after the end credits, with Charlie Sheen in a clown suit reciting the "I love the smell of napalm" speech from his dad's film "Apocalypse Now" (1979).

Side Note:
Punk icon Henry Rollins has a supporting role as a cop, but watch for the cameo appearances. These include Anthony Keidis and Flea of the Red Hot Chili Peppers, Cary Elwes and porn star Ron Jeremy.

Companion Viewing:
"Canadian Bacon" (1996).

Links:
IMDb.
Wapedia.

Take a Look:
"That is a lot of puke."


This totally happens during all those high speed chases, doesn't it?


The gripping climax (spoiler alert, as if you really care by this point):