The Scoop: It's World Series time again, which is an ideal time for dusting off this little curio. The New York Yankees may not have made the playoffs this year, but with the Tampa Bay Rays going on their remarkable run, Florida baseball is getting its due. And the Florida locations (shot in and around Fort Lauderdale) provide a strong background for "Safe at Home!"
Wooden acting abounds in this little morality play about a Florida boy (Bryan Russell) who deals with the arrival of his widowed father's new girlfriend by lying to his Little League teammates about knowing New York Yankee greats Mickey Mantle and Roger Maris. So, he has to travel to the Yankees' spring training camp to get the guys to back him up.
Roger and the Mick are better ballplayers than actors, of course, but at least they (along with teammate Whitey Ford and manager Ralph Houk) manage not to embarrass themselves too much. Along the way, we learn that lying is bad and that the power of baseball can conquer just about everything.
This is a modest, cheesy little film that has a lot to love, even in its inadequacies.
Best Line: "There's that kid again! He's followin' us! He must be a spook!"
Side Note: The script was co-written by Robert Dillon – the auteur behind "Muscle Beach Party" (1964) and "X: The Man With X-Ray Eyes" (1963) – and Steven Ritch, a veteran actor in many TV Westerns.
Companion Viewing: "Headin' Home" (1920) and "Kill the Umpire" (1950).
I'm pleased to announce that I've been accepted as a contributor over at the PCL LinkDump. Head on over there to see what great stuff everyone on the PCL crew has to offer. I'll be making regular posts over there, but don't worry -- my posting schedule here won't change. Pretty soon you'll have more Desuko than you can handle!
The Scoop: It may be saddled with a predictable plot, silly fish-out-of-water jokes and a tone overly reminiscent of the "Lethal Weapon" movies (particularly the fourth one), but "Rush Hour" still manages to slide by on the combined charm of Jackie Chan and Chris Tucker. Chan's incredible stunt work and Tucker's hilarious motor mouth have both been put to better use in other movies, but they still work well together and have fun showing off what they do best.
Basically, the plot (courtesy of director Brett Ratner and screenwriters Ross LaManna and Jim Kouf) is this -- a fast-talking LAPD cop teams up with a Hong Kong detective to find the kidnapped daughter of the Chinese consulate. The rest is filler and fluff and gags, but at least they are kept light and entertaining.
There are far, far worse ways to spend an hour and a half. Like watching any of the useless sequels, for instance.
Best Bit: The in-car singalong by Julia Hsu, who plays the little girl who gets kidnapped. I don't know why I love it so much, but I do.
Side Note: Jeff Nathanson, the screenwriter extraordinaire behind the turdbucket "Speed 2: Cruise Control" (1997) is also an uncredited writer here.
The Scoop: Director E. Elias Merhige's and writer Steven Katz's film is a provocative, yet highly fictionalized, account of the creation of the landmark horror classic "Nosferatu."
John Malkovich plays German director F.W. Murnau as a tempermental, single-minded genuis and Willem Dafoe is his mysterious star Max Schreck. The script's conceit is that Schreck was a real vampire, not just an actor lost in his role (as was the case in real life). There are faithful recreations of several of the sequences and settings of "Nosferatu," with many given an extra supernatural twist by the fact of Schreck's vampirism.
All this makes "Shadow of the Vampire" a hard film to categorize -- too fanciful for a biopic and too grounded in reality for a supernatural thriller -- but an enjoyment nonetheless.
There are good performances all around from a cast that includes Udo Kier, Catherine McCormack, Cary Elwes and Eddie Izzard. And extra kudos go to the gang of Pauline Fowler, Jamie Iovine, Amber Sibley, David Stoneman and Julian Murray for their Oscar-nominated makeup job on Dafoe.
Best Line: "If it's not in frame, it doesn't exist!"
Side Note: The real life Max Schreck was a veteran German stage actor and although "Nosferatu" was his film debut, he went on to make more than 20 other movies before his all-too-human death by heart attack in 1936, at the age of 57.
Companion Viewing: "Nosferatu" (1921) and "Gods and Monsters" (1997).
The Scoop: In the fantastically futuristic world of 1980, a miniature planet roams the Solar System at will, capturing Earth's exploratory rockets. The studly Capt. Chapman (Dean Fredericks) is sent to investigate, and winds up on the planet, shrunk down in size to visit with its tiny inhabitants. Turns out they're at war with a race of dog-faced aliens, who are also very small. Chapman helps them win their war, and along the way cures a mute girl (Colleen Gray). All in a day's work!
This bit of B-movie fluff from director William Marshall (and a large posse of screenwriters and producers) is certainly odd, but the novelty value alone isn't enough to make its 82 minutes exactly fly by. "The Phantom Planet" is best in small doses. (And yes, this is where that crappy band got its name.)
Best Line: "You know, Captain, every year of my life I grow more and more convinced that the wisest and the best is to fix our attention on the good and the beautiful. If you just take the time to look at it."
Side Note: Under the mask of the captured dog alien is none other than Richard Kiel, best known as Bond villain Jaws. As if that wasn't enough, the leader of the tiny aliens is played by aging silent film star Francis X. Bushman, who is a long way from his "Ben Hur" days.
Companion Viewing: "Fire Maidens From Outer Space" (1956).
The Scoop: This has to be a one-of-a-kind film -- the world's only epic comedy. At a time when American cinema was overflowing with lavish historical and biblical epics (complete with overtures, intermissions, exit music, casts of thousands -- and gargantuan running times), it shouldn't be too surprising that someone tried to use the formula on a slapstick comedy. And it shouldn't be too surprising that the trend never really caught on.
The story concerns an ever-widening circle of strangers in a race to find a fortune "buried under a big W." But this paper-thin plot is really just an excuse to string together a seemingly endless array of kitschy sight gags and pratfalls. The film is filled with just about every familiar face producer/director Stanley Kramer could lay his hands on. While some of them are a treat (specifically Spencer Tracy and Buster Keaton), most of them just get lost in the shuffle. Among the parade of stars are Milton Berle, Buddy Hackett, Sid Caesar, Mickey Rooney, Jonathan Winters, Phil Silvers, Terry-Thomas, Edie Adams, Peter Falk, Eddie "Rochester" Anderson, Joe E. Brown, Jim Backus, Don Knotts, the Three Stooges, Jimmy Durante.... Need I go on?
Although there are some good gags, they get absolutely deadening after being pounded into the viewer's skull for more than three hours straight -- not counting, of course, the obligatory intermission. (The director's cut, which no longer survives, was apparently even longer.) And, frankly, just a mere five minutes of Ethel Merman is enough to make a sane man kill. Even the title is a mouthful when used in casual conversation. In the end, it's a whole lot of manic energy expended on a whole lot of nothing.
Best Bit: I'm not sure there is a best bit, but if you're looking for something definitive, it probably would have to be some form of scream. There's a lot of screaming and yelling in this movie, mostly by Ethel Merman.
Side Note: The film was the first to be shot in the "single camera" Cinerama format. (Previously, three cameras were needed to shoot Cinerama films.) Its premiere opened the landmark Cinerama Dome theater in Hollywood, which is still in operation today.
The Scoop: Writer/director Neil LaBute is becoming one of cinema's most astute chroniclers of the social estrangement of white males, and this, his debut feature, contains the seeds that would flower in his later work.
Two young business executives (Aaron Eckhart and Matt Malloy) who are both having relationship trouble decide to vent their frustrations on an extended business trip by intentionally seducing and then destroying the emotions of an insecure woman. The subject they find is a deaf secretary in their office (Stacy Edwards) and things wind up being stickier than they ever intended.
Despite a few slow parts, this is a scathing portrayal of misogyny and rampant, misplaced testosterone. Sharp, but not for the faint of heart.
Best Bit: The entire "He's a prick" scene.
Side Note: The screen if full of people pulling double duty. In addition to Malloy also serving as executive producer, most of the actors used in the bit and extra parts were members of the crew.
Companion Viewing: "Your Friends and Neighbors" (1998).
The Scoop: Whether you love Michael Moore or hate him, you have to admit that he's made a pretty powerful statement with "Bowling for Columbine." While taking its inspiration from the 1999 massacre at Columbine High School in Littleton, Colo., the film does not examine the particulars of the shootings so much as use it as a jumping-off point for a larger, thought-provoking mediation on America's gun culture.
This isn't the simple liberal screed Moore's critics might expect, since he admits at the beginning (much to the surprise of many, I am sure) that he owns several guns himself and is a lifetime member of the National Rifle Association. Ever the self-referentialist, Moore bookends his film with segments about his hometown of Flint, Mich., -- the first about local members of the Michigan Militia and the last about a school shooting involving two first graders. In between there are visits to Littleton (including a lengthy segment with the harrowing, unedited surveillance footage and 911 recordings of the Columbine massacre), Hollywood, Canada and even K-Mart corporate headquarters. Along the way, he allows a lot of voices to be heard, from people on the street, to corporate shills, to Columbine victims, to Marilyn Manson (who offers a surprisingly thoughtful response to those who blamed his music for the shootings). There is even a coda with a surprise interview with NRA president Charleton Heston, who unfortunately misses his chance at a little image rehabilitation be refusing to answer any of the tough questions.
Moore doesn't offer any easy answers, because the subject is far too complex for that, but a couple of culprits behind the problem jump out pretty quickly -- namely, the NRA's hardline leadership and the fear-driven news coverage of the modern media. He also tries to make a case for the culpability of the entire military-industrial complex, which, although it deserves blame for a lot that is wrong in the world, seems to be a bit of a stretch.
There are a few grandstanding moments (it wouldn't be a Michael Moore film without them) but they are kept to a minimum in favor of some good old-fashioned, non-partisan muckracking. It is perhaps Moore's best, most fully-realized film. It is certainly his most decorated, having won a bushel full of awards, including the Oscar for Best Documentary (which prompted a most memorable acceptance speech).
Best Bit: James Nichols (brother of Oklahoma City bombing conspirator Terry Nichols) giving free rein to his psychosis. (Also, the animated history of U.S. paranoia is pretty good, too.)
Side Note: At the time it was released, "Bowling for Columbine" became the highest-grossing documentary of all time. It only held the title for two years, though, when it was surpassed by Moore's next film, "Fahrenheit 9/11."
Companion Viewing: "Roger and Me" (1989) and "Fahrenheit 9/11" (2004).
The Scoop:
