It's a strange experience to watch a film like this, out of it's time. Particularly with comedies, when they blow up they blow UP and are inescapable, and then no one wants to ever talk about them again (much less deal with references to it). It becomes very hard to seperate the art from everything swirling around it. In the 10 year span surrounding "Napoleon Dynamite," it happened with several movies ("There's Something About Mary," "Austin Powers," and "Borat," just to name a few), and I largely have no desire to watch any of those ones at all, no matter how much or how hard I laughed when I saw them originally. I saw this in the guide on TV, and thought "what the heck, eat your ham, Tina!"
Have you really not seen this movie? I guess it's possible, so to recap... Napoleon Dynamite (Jon Heder) is a spectacularly awkward teenager in a world where everyone is spectacularly, and differently awkward. This world is called Idaho. He lives with his grandmother and his cage-fighter brother, Kip (Aaron Ruell). Seriously, does the plot even matter? Everyone is a complete weirdo. Napoleon's only friend, figuratively-narcoleptic Pedro (Efren Ramirez) runs for class president, which ends with a Jamiroquai jam. People find where they belong. That's as much of a plot as really matters.
I guess the biggest question here is whether this movie is still funny or not. You can't really even say whether it justified all of the attention it got, that sort of aspect is really out of everyone's hands at some point. The good news is that, at least for me, I still enjoyed it. It helps a lot that literally none of the actors play their characters ironically, winking at the camera (except for LaFawnduh, who literally winks at the camera, but not in that way). Self-consciously weird rarely ages well. It just comes off as a entire town of people who are just doing their best, although they also know that that's not quite enough, and in the case of Napoleon, creates constant frustration and outbursts. I feel like the movie would have been destroyed by incorporating even one character who had their act together. And having seen other Jared Hess movies, that tone of outright weirdness is a constant, and is absolutely not an accident.
In this instance, time has benefitted "Napoleon Dynamite." Being able to get away from the endless merchandising, the constant quoting, and general omnipresence of this film allows it to just be the weird-ass, shaggy movie that it is at it's heart. It's worth noting that it's part of a minor trend in movies in that same 10 year span, where the tone is set for the bulk of the movie, and then there's a surprisingly deft performance that is built up to (think Jack Black in "High Fidelity" or Samuel L. Jackson's gig in "Black Snake Moan"), and that's a stucture that works, if you can pull it off. Thanks to D-Qwon's Dance Grooves, Napoleon did just that. I could see throwing this on again down the road, although it might not be my first choice, but that's pretty good for something that was as everywhere as this was at one point.
I've probably DVR'd this movie three separate times (only to fail to watch it before I switched cable providers, so I have copies of this languishing on hard drives somewhere), but only just now finally got around to watching it. There are a lot of things that appeal straight off about this one; it's about a disgraced priest (instantly sold), the vaguely Saul Bass-ish pink poster is awesome, plus I couldn't swear that I'd ever seen Richard Burton or Ava Gardner in a movie before. And I also usually like stuff that's set in a locale that I haven't been to before (largely in Puerta Vallarta, here). So I've been curious about "The Night of the Iguana" for a while, and really got rewarded once I hit play.
Trouble brewing!
In order for a priest to be disgraced, something has to happen. We don't get to that right away, but we start off with the Reverend Dr. T Lawrence Shannon (Richard Burton) delivering a sermon that quickly devolves into a meltdown, and a pointed criticism of all the looky-loos who came to judge. The next thing you know, Rev. Shannon is leading tour guides in Mexico for church groups, and looking like he maybe hasn't showered in the intervening unspecified time since his meltdown. That doesn't stop the precocious Charlotte (Sue Lyon) from setting her sights on Shannon, and rather relentlessly. Shannon is caught between trying to shake off his teenaged stalker and the accusations of her chaparone, Miss Judith Fellowes (Grayson Hall), who promises that she will "take steps" if Shannon continues trying to pursue Charlotte. It's not apparent if there is any merit to those accusations, but Charlotte is definitely looking at Shannon like he's a snack. As the tour falls apart, Shannon eventually insists on driving the bus (wildly), skipping the hotel the tour was supposed to stop at, and heading to a more friendly (for Shannon) hotel, which is run by Maxine (Ava Gardner). And the fireworks commence.
One of the things that you might have to deal with is your tolerance for overacting. This film is based on a play by Tennessee Williams, and it very much feels like a play, with it's limited settings and emphasis on interaction between characters (and a compressed period of time). It also feels a lot like a low-budget 90s indie film, for the same reason. So while there are rather scenic views, you're not going to get much action or movement. For that reason, I didn't have a problem with Gardner and Burton's hamfest - it added to the charm of the film quite a bit for me. There are also a number of characters who are quite debauched, and Burton's alcoholic priest and Gardner's throaty loose-bodied performance captured my attention well. By contrast, there are also a number of characters that are pretty tamped down and repressed (like Grayson Hall's character and Hannah, played by Deborah Kerr), and some characters that are just spaced out most of the time. It left me wondering which way a scene would play out, which kind of personality would take over a scene.
Even more trouble brewing!
Other than finding "Iguana" a compelling story, one of the mild surprises of the film was it's forthrightness about sexual matters. I'm not going to go through a checklist, and it wasn't visually explicit, but there were a number of times I said "dang" to myself. This is a salty-ass movie, and it gets into people's business without much shame. Probably the most aggressive aspect of this involves Maxine (who has been recently widowed), who is pretty up front about the fact that she's been getting served for quite a while by a pair of locals who are always dancing shirtless with maracas (their fight scene is a riot, too). Girl's got needs! You may expect because a movie is in black and white that some things are not going to get addressed, but this is a movie that is pretty much centered around what has happened to and what will happen to Richard Burton's donger, but that's definitely not to say that everyone else doesn't have a past and also has current desires. It's very egalitarian in that respect.
I was very pleasantly surprised by "The Night of the Iguana." Like I said before, I was sold once I knew it was about a disgraced priest (hey, we all have our soft spots), but it totally took that idea and ran with it. I had no idea that John Huston directed it, I'm not even sure I knew who the actors were when I first DVR'd it. I often find the less you know about a movie going in, the better experience it ends up being. And this a very good experience, even if you have to deal with the baseless accusations of a nit-picky church group on a tour bus, multiple women individually trying to get your attention, possibly detoxing while tied up in a hammock, and the relentless heat of a summer in a Mexico resort town.
"Pink Cadillac" - 1989
Dir. by Buddy Van Horn - 2 hrs. 2 min.
TV Spot #1
by Clayton Hollifield
What if I told you there's a movie you've never heard of, that has Clint Eastwood, James Cromwell, and Jim Carrey in a comedy? This technically is true, and I would also be badly misleading you. I would be misleading you on several points. This film exists, it is classified as a comedy, and all three of those men are in it. It's called "Pink Cadillac." It exists as a testament to how badly star power can cloud even the best judgment, because I'm still trying to wrap my head around the notion that not only did someone think that this was a solid concept, but someone actually financed this movie into existence.
Tommy Nowak (Clint Eastwood) is a skip tracer, which I think is the same thing as a bounty hunter? Basically, he goes after people who have skipped bail, and does so with a fondness for costumes and subterfuge. Tommy is put on the job to track down Lou Ann McGuinn (Bernadette Peters), who has gone on the run with her infant, fleeing from her dumbass husband, Roy (Timothy Carhart). He's such a dumbass he's a low-level member of a white-supremacist group, has started dabbling in crystal meth, and also let Lou Ann take the fall for his group of merry morons' counterfeiting scheme. Lou Ann absconds with his pink cadillac, which she is unaware contains about a quarter million dollars.
It would probably be a good idea to knock out the positives of this movie first. Bernadette Peters looks awfully nice in her red dress. At no time does the film make any apologies for Roy or the band of idiots he runs with. And there are some nice very short appearances by actors who would eventually be a lot better than having to take tiny roles in movies like "Pink Cadillac." One of the scenes has James Cromwell playing the guy in charge of a small motel, and has one of my favorite jokes in a movie that I've ever seen. The other has Jim Carrey (and this was even pre-"In Living Color"), playing a lame comedian in a Reno casino. Here, I'll save you two hours:
Tiny Arm Elvis!
So why is this a Clint Eastwood movies that no one ever remembers? I think it all boils down to it being a bad fit. There's a long history of these kinds of comedies, where you take a fundamentally serious/dangerous job, jam a comedian into it that can coast on charm and wackiness, and then the movie takes a serious turn in the third act and has to live up to the demands of the job. Just look at "Pineapple Express," for a decent version of a similar structure. Seth Rogen gets to dress up, run his mouth a bunch, and then things get violent and shit gets real. I'm not sure there's anyone who was clamoring for Clint Eastwood to star in a comedy of any kind. And even if there was, if you were like me, you might expect that he would be the straight man. Here, Eastwood is the one putting on costumes, playing "characters," and trying to charm people into things that are against their own self-interest. And here is an example of how that plays out:
There is never a point where Eastwood doesn't look wildly uncomfortable playing a character playing these characters. Maybe he's the funniest son of a bitch you ever met in person, but I'd lay down money that he's not this specific kind of funny. So there's no good reason for Clint to be the star of this film. He's made some all-time great movies, but not one of them was a comedy. This leads back to my original thesis: star power blinds people. If Eastwood was willing to make this movie, this movie was going to get made. Maybe it was a favor to somebody; the director, Buddy Van Horn, long was Eastwood's stunt man. I'm not saying that's why this movie exists, I'm honestly curious if there's ever been anyone who had the cojones to ask Clint to his face about this one. This is something that I intend to do some sleuthing into, not that that's going to help you, or me with the writing of this.
I'd be totally remiss in not admitting that while this is not any kind of a good movie, there is true perverse pleasure watching Clint Eastwood struggle with pulling off characters like Sleazy Car Salesman, Cut-Up Redneck, and Limousine Driver. Everyone else who has smaller roles, including Bernadette Peters, does their best with the material. I've probably seen this movie three or four times in my life, and I have no idea why I keep coming back for more. Maybe it's that joke James Cromwell tells. That really is one of my favorite bits in film I've ever seen.
"Ghost Rider" - 2007
Dir. by Mark Steven Johnson - 1 hr. 50 min.
Official Trailer (Espanol)
by Clayton Hollifield
2007 was a simpler time. Superhero movies hadn't yet steamrolled everything in sight. Also, you could still shop at a Toys 'R Us. And, you know, do other stuff too, like shaking people's hands or coughing in public. Nicolas Cage was known for making batty movies with even battier acting choices yet, but that was still pre-meme supremacy era. The odds that any given superhero movie was going to be worthwhile was an uneven bet. Hollywood didn't know what to do with this material, outside of individuals who got it right. But studios seemed more willing to take a shot at these kinds of movies.
Johnny Blaze (Nicolas Cage) is a second-generation circus motorcycle stunt rider, part of his father's act. Burton Blaze (Brett Cullen) is his father, a stern man with a dangling cigarette and rockin' sideburns. After another night of getting his ass chewed out (not a euphemism - people didn't eat ass in 2007, at least not as a point of public pride), Johnny discovers some concerning news about his father. In classic fashion, a very fancy man, Mephistopheles (Peter Fonda) shows up and offers young Mr. Blaze a deal; his father's health for Johnny's soul. Johnny takes Meph up on the offer, and it turns out to be not exactly what he expected it to be. So Johnny bails super-hard, leaving his life (and girlfriend) behind.
Life ain't nothing but bikes and jelly beans
There's a lot to say about this movie, which seems weird, because there's not a lot to this movie. So let's go with the good first. The cast for Ghost Rider is pretty good. Nic Cage is bonkers, and I had no confidence anyone would get this right as a movie, so it at least has his stash of insane line readings to fall back on. But past that there's Donal Logue as Johnny Blaze's buddy, Eva Mendes as the female-shaped object, Sam Elliott doing Undertaker-style promos in a graveyard, Rebel Wilson making the most of her one minute on screen, and Peter Fonda cashing in some motorcycle-movie credit here. Everything interesting in this film comes from actors hamming things up. One problem for me is that the villain, Blackheart (Wes Bentley) was eye-rollingly bad throughout the film, in pretty much every way. If you sat down and thought about what's the worst version of the villain from Hell trope, please believe that Wes Bentley topped that and took home a trophy for how bad his character was. I don't know if it was him, the writing, or an unholy combination of the two, but when the villain just comes off like a try-hard dork, then the hero vs. villain aspect that's supposed to drive the film is going to fail.
The biggest problems with this film is that you can see the Hollywood fingerprints all over it. Part of that is that they had not yet figured out how to consistently nail superhero stories. In the Avengers arc, yes there were romantic elements present, but that's not the thrust of any of the stories. They're oddly asexual in that manner (aside maybe from the first Thor and Natalie Portman's delightful agogness); they're more about rising to the occasion, heroism, duty, honor, and all that stuff. In Ghost Rider, one of the main plot points is Johnny Blaze continually bailing on Roxanne (Eva Mendes), and that part of the story is given more attention than the whole save-the-world-from-Mephistopheles thing. Superhero stories are about looking good enough to get laid, but not about the actual laying. This one falls back on having the basic romance being the thrust, instead of just having Ghost Rider looking badass and scaring the crap out of hoods. There is also the fact that there's not another memorable female character present, which isn't make or break, but is part of the problem here. Roxanne exists not out of her own agency, but basically as something for Blaze to win over.
But the biggest issue is a problem that we film-viewers are going to have to increasingly deal with: old digital effects look cheesy. I'm not going to hammer on that point, but watching a 13 year old movie that relies on effects is going to have to compete with all the advances that digital effects have made in that time span. I will give some credit; I've been re-reading the 90's Ghost Rider comics lately, and this movie does a good job of replicating the look and feel of those comics. Unfortunately, the people who would be stoked about that would also be annoyed that the main character of the movie is Johnny Blaze, since it was Danny Ketch who was the star of that particular comic series. Comic fans are funny like that.
Chug! Chug! Chug!
So look, Ghost Rider was a bad movie even when it came out. I think the main reason this one exists is because Cage was a Ghost Rider fan, and he got to get paid to cosplay, and why would you turn that down? But it's not like there are any great Ghost Rider comics to have drawn upon for inspiration, it's just a character that looks awesome, but no one has really managed to do much with that. Time hasn't done this movie any favors, but the cast is absolutely to my taste. So it wasn't painful to rewatch. It's also pretty unlikely I'll be rewatching it again soon; literally everyone I liked in this movie has other movies that are way better.
