LAST EXIT TO BROOKLYN (1989, Uli Edel)

 

* * * * 

Life, love, loss and labour disputes in 1950’s New York City.

Starring  Jennifer Jason Leigh, Stephen Lang, Burt Young, Peter Dobson, Jerry Orbach

Written by  Desmond Nakano

Produced by  Bernd Eichinger

Duration  103 minutes  

 

 

Sometimes, you see the reference before you know the thing it's referencing.

The early, golden episodes of The Simpsons were chockablock with brilliantly conceived movie references. CITIZEN KANE was a favourite, getting a whole episode with Mr Burns' childhood teddy bear substituting the sled Rosebud. Hitchcock came up a lot, too, specifically PSYCHO, VERTIGO and REAR WINDOW – which also got its own whole-episode parody, when Lisa and Bart think Ned Flanders has murdered his wife.

One of my favourites is 'Last Exit to Springfield'. The one where Homer becomes the head of the power plant's workers' union to try to get free braces for Lisa. ("Dental plan!" "Lisa needs braces." "Dental plan!" "Lisa needs braces." "Dental plan!" " ... If we give up our dental plan ... I'll have to pay for Lisa's braces!")

It's an episode that makes several references, among them THE GODFATHER PART II; 1989's BATMAN; the Beatles' YELLOW SUBMARINE; How the Grinch Stole Christmas; and Moby-Dick. But I didn't at first know what that title was alluding to. It definitely sounded like a reference, and I just supposed that it must be somehow relevant to the episode's plot.

I came to realise that it was a nod to an '80s-shot, '50s-set movie called LAST EXIT TO BROOKLYN. But I never saw it back then, and my interest was only piqued (before now) after I became a fan of drugged-up misery-fest REQUIEM FOR A DREAM, and learned that both it and LAST EXIT were adapted from novels by the same author, Hubert Selby Jr.

Apparently, the book is a loose collection of inter-connected short fictions set in the same area, rather like Trainspotting. If that's so, then screenwriter Desmond Nakano did a great job of blending them into a coherent narrative. 

Characters in the ensemble include Georgette (Alexis Arquette), a brash transgender prostitute; dockworker Big Joe (Burt Young, playing Paulie from ROCKY as if he finally left Philly and started a family), whose daughter's baby out of wedlock prompts a hasilty arranged wedding and christening; Jennifer Jason Leigh's Tralala, a prostitute who makes a few extra bucks from propositioning sailors and then robbing them when the deed is done; and Stephen Lang as Harry, a closeted factory machinist, who during the strike abuses his position in the union by using its funds to take his deadbeat mates out boozing, while exploring the local underground gay scene on the sly.

With the exception of Big Joe's, none of these storylines end well. Georgette is thrown out of the family home by her homophobic brother and is then killed in a hit-and-run. Harry is viciously beaten by the same buddies he had been trying to impress after they uncover his sexuality. And Tralala is brutally gang-raped in an abandoned car and then left for dead.

It's this last character who I found the most heart-breaking. Tralala meets a nice guy for once, a sailor who wants to get to know her and hang out for a few days doing 'couple' things before he ships out; when he does, he leaves her a love note that almost brings her to tears. 

But Leigh is playing a character who is so used to getting a bum steer from life that when she's shown a little glimmer of tenderness she can't handle it. She reacts by subjecting herself to self-flagellating humiliation – her fate at the hands of dozens of leering, drunken barflies comes at her own invitation, when she binge-drinks whiskey, rips off her own clothes and challenges them to do their worst. She doesn't think she deserves happiness and takes comfort in sinking back to the gutter, where the world has convinced her she belongs. 

Leigh is utterly mesmerising in the role; with this and 1990's MIAMI BLUES, she was truly graduating from teen films to more grown-up fare.

Stephen Lang, meanwhile, I mostly knew as psychotic serial killer The Party Crasher in mis-matched buddy action comedy THE HARD WAY; that, or for playing a psychotic military type in AVATAR, or even the psychotic blind dude in the DON'T BREATHE movies. But here, he's agonisingly soulful as a regular guy who's desperately trying to find his place in the world.

Also in the cast are Jerry Orbach (the dad from DIRTY DANCING) as a principled union boss; a young Stephen Baldwin as a local hoodlum; Ricky Lake as Big Joe's daughter; and apparently a pre-fame Sam Rockwell was in there somewhere too, but I didn't spot him and I don't think he has any lines.

German Uli Edel is example of a foreign director with an outsider's eye of New York City, like the French Luc Besson (LEON), Polish Roman Polanski (ROSEMARY'S BABY), Austrian Billy Wilder (THE APARTMENT), Italian Sergio Leone (ONCE UPON A TIME IN AMERICA) ... does Canadian Ivan Reitman count, with GHOSTBUSTERS? Anyway, in LAST EXIT, the titular borough is depicted like another planet or a subterranean level of hell. Cinematographer Stefan Czapdky shoots it like Michael Chapman did Scorsese's TAXI DRIVER (that director being an actual New Yorker, of course): all rising steam and dark alleys and dirty puddles.

There's another Scorsese-style touch when the camera cranes away, ashamed, during Harry's beating. His assailants leave him bloody and propped up against wooden rafters in a crucifix pose – and then we cut to a christening! So, the religious allusions are very Marty, too.

This is a harsh film, despite them actually toning down the book – which had been strong enough to earn it a trial in the UK under the Obscene Publications Act. But LAST EXIT is more moving in its humility and rawness than anything I've seen for a good while. Ultimately, it's about trying to find pockets of happiness in an ugly world; just by keeping up that pursuit, you're not letting go of hope.

No mention of dental plans, though.

(Also, there's a beautiful score by Mafk Knopfler, although it can't quite match his masterful earlier work on LOCAL HERO – the theme from which is so good that Newcastle United Football Club run onto the pitch to it,)

Four stars out of five.

Valid use of the word ‘last’? If we’re going to Brooklyn, where are we coming from? Tarlala romances the kind sailor in Manhattan, so in theory she could go back and forth on the Brooklyn Bridge. But chances are she takes the subway.

What would a movie called FIRST EXIT TO BROOKLYN be about?  There is apparently an album by something called The Foetus Symphony Orchestra entitled ‘York (First Exit to Brooklyn)'. So, some kind of concept movie based around that, I guess, like Pink Floyd’s THE WALL or The Who’s TOMMY.

 

Previously:  LAST CALL

Next time:  I STILL KNOW WHAT YOU DIDLAST SUMMER 

Check out my books:  Jonathanlastauthor.com

THE TOXIC AVENGER PART III: THE LAST TEMPTATION OF TOXIE (1989, Lloyd Kaufman, Michael Herz)

 

* 

New Jersey-based superhero Toxie gets a day job to pay for his blind girlfriend’s eye-surgery. Unfortunately, his boss turns out to be the Devil and, worse still, Toxie becomes a yuppie.

Starring  Ron Fazio, Phoebe Legere, John Altamura, Rick Collins, Lisa Gaye

Written by  Lloyd Kaufman, Michael Herz

Produced by  Lloyd Kaufman, Michael Herz

Duration  102 minutes  

   

I’m a completist. When it comes to films, I want to see them all. Not all all – I wish! No, I’m talking about completing a set.

A film series is, I would say, a quite common completism goal. All the Bonds; all the Marvels (shudder); all the wars that take place among the stars. And doing an actor could still be considered a sane and reasonable pursuit.

What I’m talking about for myself is the next level: directors.

Now, some have been easy for me to tick off, owing to their limited output. James Cameron has only just reached nine with that Avatar sequel, with (shudder again) more of those things in the pipeline. Kubrick did a still-low 13, including that early, terrible one, FEAR AND DESIRE. Hitchcock was much more prolific; I didn’t count his hard-to-find early British ones, including the silent-era, and started instead at THE MAN WHO KNEW TOO MUCH (1934), which still meant a count of 37. Worth it.

Elsewhere, some directors have been easy to chalk off film by film, since they only got going in the '90s: David O Russell, Darren Aronofsky, Paul Thomas Anderson, Danny Boyle, Tarantino. Some of the older ones I've kept up to date with while also exploring their back catalogues: Scorsese, Cronenberg, Carpenter. Certain directors who had seemed retired can surprise you with a new picture out of nowhere, like Adrian Lyne with DEEP WATER or Michael Mann's FERRARI (I haven't yet braved Francis Coppola's MEGALOPOLIS). A couple of definitely out-of-commission veterans who I’d really love to complete, but whose mammoth outputs intimidate me, are Robert Altman (35 films) and Sidney Lumet (41).

One name I’ve never been tempted to add to my list of completed directors is Lloyd Kaufman’s. To do so would mean watching the majority of Troma’s output, the studio he co-founded with Michael Hertz. Not something I would recommend to anyone, if you want to remain in possession of your marbles.

If you’ve never heard of Troma, here is a sample of their titles: SURF NAZIS MUST DIE; FORTRESS OF AMERIKKKA; BLOODBATH IN PSYCHO TOWN; VIEWER DISCRETION ADVISED; CLASS OF NUKE ‘EM HIGH; DUMPSTER BABY; A NYMPHOID BARBARIAN IN DINOSAUR HELL. Troma specialises in shock (or 'schlock'); in pushing the boundaries of taste when it comes to sex, violence, gore, targeting minorities and poking at sensitive topics.

Here's the problem: when a movie thinks that it's great but is actually terrible, it can achieve a fascinating level of outsider art and be enjoyed in a so-bad-it’s-good manner. Think THE ROOM or TROLL 2. If a work is intentionally terrible, it’s usually painfully self-conscious, desperate to please and difficult to watch – in other words, anti-entertainment. Troma doesn’t push boundaries to make any kind of artistic point. Kaufman and his cronies just want to see what they can get away with. Most of the time the result is mind-numbingly dull.

But on rare occasions, Troma shits out a diamond. TROMEO AND JULIET is one, a spirited and anarchic take on the material that boasts a script by future DC Studios CEO James Gunn – as well as by being a loose adaptation of, you know, William Shakespeare.

And another jewel in Troma's crown is THE TOXIC AVENGER (1984).

An introduction to future Troma mascot ‘Toxie’ (later transposed to kiddie cartoon The Toxic Crusaders), the movie applies Troma’s sensibility to something that actually works – in a lowest-common-denominator kind of way. It’s essentially a superhero origin story, in which put-upon health club janitor Melvin falls into an open barrel of toxic waste in a prank gone wrong, mutating into a mop-wielding, hyper-violent version of Sloth from THE GOONIES. Rather than return to cleaning toilets and wiping sweaty pull-down bars, Melvin/Toxie instead starts fighting crime and corruption in his hometown of Tromaville, New Jersey.

One of my friends used to own THE TOXIC AVENGER on VHS and it was regular viewing for a gang of us over beers and pizza. A recent rewatch confirmed that the movie still holds up today, and when I noticed that part three qualifies for this blog, I decided to dive into the whole series.

And the sequels start promisingly with THE TOXIC AVENGER: PART II. In it, Toxie travels to Japan to search for his father, only to find when he returns to Jersey that he was tricked into this quest by the nefarious Apocalypse Inc, a chemical company/crime syndicate who have now overrun Tromaville. Offensive Asian stereotypes notwithstanding, TOXIE II is quite fun.

The same, however, can’t be said about number three here, THE LAST TEMPTATION. It’s a film that literally shouldn't exist, being that it was cobbled together from unused TOXIE II footage when Kaufman wanted to make a quick sale to foreign investors (there’s that artistic integrity again). 

Meandering, laugh-free and surprisingly tame, TOXIE III is as lazy as you would expect for a project with the sole purpose of making it to feature length. It's not dissimilar to those sequels that are green-lighted purely to retain IP, such as HELLRAISER: REVELATIONS or that FANTASTIC FOUR from 1994 (recipient of the greatest trailer ever). The movie really doesn't warrant any further scrutiny.

I am glad, however, that I hung in there for part four (subtitle: CITIZEN TOXIE), as it's a definite upturn. The film counters the timidity of LAST TEMPTATION with a tastelessness that is almost admirable, including the series’s most gloriously OTT fight scene during its hospital-set third act. For the denouement, Toxie’s girlfriend gives birth to twins, one good one evil, who we just saw fighting in her womb MORTAL KOMBAT-style. TOXIE IV actually comes close to recapturing the hell-for-leather charm of the original.

So yes, I am now a TOXIC AVENGER completist; one step closer to a worthwhile existence, I'm sure you'll agree. Or at least I will be, once the remake is out: it still doesn't have a release date, despite debuting at Spain's Stiges Film Festival in October 2023.

One star out of five.

Valid use of the word ‘last’?  Nope. But as I say, despite starring Peter Dinklage (as Toxie), Jacob Tremblay and Kevin Bacon, the remake is currently caught in some kind of distribution limbo.

What would a movie called THE FIRST TEMPTATION OF TOXIE be about?  That's actually a pretty accurate description of the original film. Its catalytic event was poor Melvin being subjected to an insincere promise of sex from a duplicitous gym bunny, which inadvertently led to the whole toxic-waste-mutation ordeal.

Previously:  THE LAST AMERICAN VIRGIN

Next time:  AND WHEN DID YOU LAST SEE YOUR FATHER? 

Check out my books:  Jonathanlastauthor.com

THE LAST AMERICAN VIRGIN (1982, Boaz Davidson)

 

* * * * 

Three horny teenage boys pursue girls in suburban Los Angeles.

Starring  Lawrence Monoson, Diane Franklin, Steve Antin, Joe Rubbo, Louisa Moritz

Written by  Boaz Davidson   

Produced by  Yoram Globus, Menahem Golan, David Womark   

Duration  92 minutes   

 

PORKY'S. REVENGE OF THE NERDS. SCREWBALLS. LOSIN’ IT. HARDBODIES. SPRING BREAK. THE LAST AMERICAN VIRGIN.

One of these 1980s teen sex romps is not like the others.

Despite coming from the less-than-reputable Canon Films – known for such dubious output as SUPERMAN IV: THE QUEST FOR PEACE and MASTERS OF THE UNIVERSE, as well as for igniting/prolonging the careers of Jean-Claude Van Damme, Chuck Norris, and Charles Bronson – THE LAST AMERICAN VIRGIN turns out to be a pleasant surprise. It’s not what I expected at all; well, it does have everything I expected in it, but also a lot more besides, making it unique among its peers.

It doesn't stand out just because its director, Boaz Davidson, took the uncommon step of remaking his own film: AMERICAN VIRGIN is a US-based version the Israeli LEMON POPSICLE. Other members of this exclusive self-remaking club include Alfred Hitchcock (THE MAN WHO KNEW TOO MUCH, 1934/1956), Michael Haneke (FUNNY GAMES, 1997/2007), John Woo (THE KILLER, 1989/2024) and Michael Mann (kind of – he expanded his 1989 TV movie LA TAKEDOWN into HEAT in 1995).

AMERICAN VIRGIN isn't notable for having a cast who went onto bigger things, either. There's only Kimmy Robertson, years before portraying dim-witted secretary Lucy Moran on Twin Peaks, and Diane Franklin, who would go on to feature in BETTER OFF DEAD and BILL & TED'S EXCELLENT ADVENTURE. Probably the biggest up-and-comer is found on the other side of the camera. The film looks unexpectedly great, due to being lensed by Adam Greenberg, the cinematographer who had ALIEN NATION, GHOST, NEAR DARK and both of James Cameron’s TERMINATOR movies in his future.

It also doesn't stand out in terms of plot. It's a pretty loose affair, mostly tying together a series of misadventures – at first comical, then more serious. The sensitive nice guy from three best buddies is infatuated with a new girl at school, but his more studly and less ethical mate gets in with her first. Meanwhile, their other, chubbier pal wears sunglasses indoors, talks about ‘partying’ a lot and provides frequent plus-sized comic relief.

So, while it may not be distinctive for any of those reasons, let me give you a flavour of what the cinematic artifact named THE LAST AMERICAN VIRGIN is.

It’s luring some girls you just met in a diner back to your parent-free house with the promise of Class-A drugs, then surreptitiously racking up lines of Sweet N Low on a mirror – which they gleefully snort, declaring "This is the best Columbian we’ve ever had!"

It’s strutting into a party with your collar up and your hair slicked back, tearing open a pack of Marlboro Reds and swigging Jack Daniels straight from the bottle. Then when you return home and drunkenly interrupt your parents' sophisticated dinner party, you try to seduce the most stern-looking matriarch in attendance before collapsing onto the dining table, sending plates and drinks flying.

It’s delivering a pizza to a nymphomaniac cougar, and then returning to her apartment again with your two mates in tow so you can take turns having sex with her, peeking in on each other through the keyhole. And when her husband comes home, he totally buys her explanation that there are half-naked teenagers in the house because she was "giving them Spanish lessons."

It’s parking on the beach so you can furiously make out in the back seat of a convertible and kicking the handbrake off in the throes of passion, and then being so preoccupied that you don't even notice the car's rolled into the surf and you’re drenched with sea water.

It’s catching the nerdiest guy in gym class spying on girls showering through a peephole (a la PORKY’S) and, when he claims to possess the largest penis in school, deciding to line up all your schoolmates and measure their erections one by one with a ruler. And it turns out the nerd was right.

It’s hiring LA’s least sympathetic prostitute so you can lose your virginity, and then feeling worse after the deed is done than you did before – and not just because of the resultant STD.

It’s also practically a music video montage with a movie in between, years before MTV. And the early ’80s soundtrack is stellar, not to be beaten until the video game GTA: Vice City, with which it shares some songs. 

Among others, the track list includes:

‘De Do Do Do, De Da Da Da’ – The Police

‘Whip It’ – Devo

‘Better Luck Next Time’ – Oingo Boingo

‘In the Flesh’ – Blondie

‘Oh No’ – The Commodores

‘Open Arms’ – Journey

‘Keep on Loving You’ – REO Speedwagon

‘Love Action’ – The Human League

‘Shake It Up’ – The Cars

‘I Will Follow’ – U2

 

But also, and ultimately, it turns out to be a lot more soulful and earnest than the raunchy tone, bawdy dialogue and excessive nudity of its early stretch suggests. Two thirds through there's a plot development similar to that in 1982’s FAST TIMES AT RIDGEMONT HIGH, another movie that rises above genre trappings: sensitively handled unwanted teenage pregnancy.

So, yeah. We like these kids. We don’t judge them for being young and led by their impulses. We end up invested in their dodgy decisions and flawed but ultimately well-meaning pursuits. 

And the movie has one of the all-time gut-punch endings of the ’80s, maybe even up there with the decade’s ultimate downer denouement from David Cronenberg’s THE FLY.

I can’t believe I’m going to give THE LAST AMERICAN VIRGIN this rating, but ... yep, there you go.

Four stars out of five.

Valid use of the word ‘last’?  The original LEMON POPSICLE spawned eight sequels in its native Isreal, so although this movie had no follow-ups (and yet we got four installments of both PORKY’S and REVENGE OF THE NERDS!), there were plenty more virgins left out there.

What would a movie called THE FIRST AMERICAN VIRGIN be about?  Maybe a teen sex romp mashed-up with 1492: CONQUEST OF PARADISE?

Previously:  LAST TANGO IN PARIS

Next time:  THE TOXIC AVENGER PART III: THE LAST TEMPTATION OF TOXIE 

Check out my books:  Jonathanlastauthor.com

THE LAST TEMPTATION OF CHRIST (1988, Martin Scorsese)

 

* * * * * 

Jesus of Nazareth faces the ultimate existential crisis: being the son of God (and knowing His plans) while having human desires.

Starring  Willem Dafoe, Harvey Keitel, Barbara Hershey, Harry Dean Stanton, David Bowie

Written by  Paul Schrader

Produced by  Barbara De Fina  

Duration  163 minutes     

I’ve argued on this blog that Ridley Scott has never made a genuinely great film, despite the inexplicably elevated position he inhabits for some.

The question that occurs to me now is, has Martin Scorsese ever made a bad one?

Across 26 features, there are six that have most regularly come in for criticism, or are just simply not as well known. So are these 'lesser Marties' deserving of their status as outliers? Let’s see!

– WHO’S THAT KNOCKING AT MY DOOR (1967):  The director's debut, an Italian-American New Yorkers' tale and precursor to MEAN STREETS, it's appropriately rough around the edges. But the talent is there up on the screen and as far as first features go, it certainly makes you intrigued for what this young man might do next.

– BOXCAR BERTHA (1972):  Scorsese was one of several fledgling directors to cut their teeth under producer Roger Corman, such as (deep breath) Francis Ford Coppola, Ron Howard, Jonathan Demme, Peter Bogdanovich, Joe Dante, John Sayles and James Cameron. He made BERTHA for Corman's American International Pictures, and the film is a trashy female gangster flick that’s a lot of sleazy low-brow fun.

– ALICE DOESN'T LIVE HERE ANYMORE (1974):  Probably Marty’s most unfairly overlooked film. Central is a powerhouse performance by Ellen Barkin (who won an Oscar), and this affecting drama also has memorable turns from the pre-TAXI DRIVER pair of Jodie Foster and Harvey Keitel.

– NEW YORK, NEW YORK (1977):  I'm never going to be subjective about a musical; a jazz musical, no less. Moving on.

– KUNDUN (1997):  Um ... I’ve seen it. It exists. It's probably most remembered for that bit in The Sopranos where Christopher Moltisanti spots Scorsese-playing-himself and yells out "Marty, KUNDUN! I liked it!"

– GANGS OF NEW YORK (2002):  This one is a bit of a slog. Leo was still maturing from teen heartthrob into proper leading man. Diaz was miscast. Day-Lewis was enjoyably big, but also distractingly so. Ultimately, it was never able to recover from all its production troubles. I do like the U2 song that plays over the end credits, though.

(In addition, THE KING OF COMEDY and AFTER HOURS didn't do much business when they were released but have both since been reassessed; I like the former but have never really warmed to the latter.)

 

So yes, I would say Scorsese has a batting average superior to most big-time directors, even plenty of those names listed above. And LAST TEMPTATION is firmly in the ‘definitely great’ camp.

The film was controversial for its depiction of a flawed Jesus. But anyone who bothered to absorb the opening crawl should have known to proceed with leniency: "This film is not based upon the Gospels but is a fictional exploration of the eternal spiritual conflict."

(They should have put "based on a true story" – that would have really stirred the pot.)

Marty was using Jesus Christ the man as the starting point for an exploration of the struggles we all go through – heightened, of course, by JC's unique internal wrestling match between being both a deity and a flesh-and-blood human.

In short, he's a flawed hero who goes through a journey – an 'arc', to use a term that the KUNDUN-approving, wannabe-screenwriter cousin of Tony Soprano would appreciate. Which should tell you everything: this is a movie, where Jesus Christ is the protagonist. It’s not a sermon; it’s not a fly-on-the-wall documentary. It has thematic depth and spiritual resonance, but it also needs to move and entertain us. And it does.

JC is cut from the same cloth as other Scorsese leading men. He suffers the sexual distractions of RAGING BULL’s Jake LaMotta. He is miffed by a world full of sin, like Travis Bickle in TAXI DRIVER. He appears to die at the climax but then doesn’t really, like Ace Rothstein and his exploding car at the start/end of CASINO ( ... OK, that one might be a stretch).

Let’s talk about casting. First, the obvious question: why not de Niro as Jesus? Ironically, at the time of filming he may have been busy playing the devil for Alan Parker in his movie ANGEL HEART.

Or why the hell not Harvey Keitel? He was on set and everything, playing Judas Ascariot (dyed ginger, for some reason). Yes, he's still second-billed and yes, Judas is pretty much the antagonist and a meaty role in itself. But come on, Harvey would have been amazing! Just look at what he managed to do shortly after as a tormented soul, sometimes in a religious setting, in Abel Ferrara's BAD LIEUTENANT.

Anyway, the final casting choices do work well and are leftfield enough to fit in with the movie's slanted take on its subject matter, as is having many characters talk in anachronistic Noo Yoik accents. Willem Dafoe as the man (of God) Himself is as committed as you’d expect (and surely influenced Ewan McGregor); David Bowie is an icily callous Pontius Pilate; Barbara Hershey a suitably sexy Mary Magdalene. And putting Harry Dean Stanton in your movie (as Saul/Paul) never fails to elevate it.

So, another tick for Mr Reliable Marty. And SILENCE, his questioning-faith companion piece from 2016, is also excellent.

Five stars out of five.

Valid use of the word ‘last’?  On Earth, yes. Up in Heaven? Not sure it’s that kind of place.

What would a movie called THE FIRST TEMPTATION OF CHRIST be about?  Who can be sure that the temptations depicted here hadn't been part of Jesus's life for years already? The Bible is famously light on details about his teens and 20s, after all.

Previously:  THE LAST PICTURE SHOW

Next time:  LAST PASSENGER

Check out my books:  Jonathanlastauthor.com

ABOUT LAST NIGHT (1986, Edward Zwick)

 

* * * 

Two yuppies find romance in mid-’80s Chicago.

Starring  Rob Lowe, Demi Moore, James Belushi, Elizabeth Perkins

Written by  Tim Kazurinsky, Denise DeClue

Produced by  Jason Brett, Stuart Oken

Duration  113 minutes

I mean, honestly. Would you fancy trying to sell something called Sexual Perversity in Chicago to a mainstream audience? No, I didn’t think so.

TriStar Pictures weren’t up to the task either, and they probably had Harvard graduates with diplomas in marketing and everything. Thus, David Mamet’s play joined a list of adapted works that were released with a different title. It’s a grand tradition that includes BABE (The Sheep-pig), FIELD OF DREAMS (Shoeless Joe), GOODFELLAS (Wise Guy), STAND BY ME (The Body) and BLADE RUNNER (Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?).

Now, Mamet wasn’t involved in the production of ABOUT LAST NIGHT, although the frank, foul-mouthed pitter-patter dialogue certainly sounds like your man. Especially James Belushi's explicit monologue about his own 'last night', which he unleashes on a rapt Rob Lowe (who, as a notorious '80s sleaze hound, was probably taking notes).

I've never seen the play, but I'm sure it wasn’t totally discarded in the reimagining. So this gives me enough of an excuse to quote from Mamet’s excellent nonfiction book Bambi vs. Godzilla: On the Nature, Purpose and Practice of the Movie Business, within which the Chicago-native gives the following writing advice:

The audience will undergo only the journey that the hero undergoes… Similarly, the audience will not suffer, wonder, discover, or rejoice to any extent greater than that to which the writer has been subjected. To suggest that the writer can, through exercise of craft, evade or avoid the struggle of creation is an error congruent with confounding the study of theology with prayer.

In other words, you have to have gone through what your characters go through, or at least your protagonist. Not necessarily literally, but definitely on an emotional level – clearly not everyone has to be Paul Schrader, depressed and living out of his car while scribbling down TAXI DRIVER.

In the case of ABOUT LAST NIGHT, however, there’s not much chance that Mamet, either of the two credited screenwriters or the viewer themselves haven't been through at least some of what our heroes face. It’s a pretty by-the-numbers account of well-worn romantic comedy/drama tropes, uncovering little that won’t be familiar, even if just from other movies.

To wit: 

– An act one, getting-to-know-each-other montage, set to a song that seems to be called ‘So Far So Good’ and contains the lyrics "We've no way of knowing / How far this is going / If this isn't love / Then it's in the neighbourhood".

– The male and female pals discuss the politics of men telephoning women: frequency, proximity to how recently the lovers met, etc.

– Moore turns up at Lowe's door but and then insists that she's not coming in, no way, uh-uh. Smash cut to them having sex in an empty bathtub with the built-in shower on full blast.

– A moving-in-together sequence that features much dropping of boxes, and is set to another cheesy song that opines, "And it feels like a home / Though we've just begun / Ain’t it lucky / That we lucked into one another?"

– When Lowe's boss makes an unreasonable demand of him, Lowe replies, "Fuck you!", to which his employer responds, "Fuck me? Fuck you!"

– "I love you" changes everything and is uttered at the exact halfway point, dividing the movie neatly into a ‘will this get serious?’ half followed by a ‘will they go the distance?’ one.

– That second half is full of suspicion and arguments and is waaaaay less fun than the first.

There were few stars more attractive than post-BLAME IT ON RIO, pre-STRIPTEASE Demi Moore, and here her combustive mixture of endearing cuteness and gravel-voiced derision make up for Lowe's blandness – an actor who really only found his voice post-Brat Pack, a couple of seasons into TV's The West Wing. 

Belushi, meanwhile, is billed as ‘James’ and not ‘Jim’, which usually indicates a dramatic role, but here he’s mostly slobbish comic relief and equips himself ably. Ditto an hilarious Elizabeth Perkins, who really deserves to be known for more than playing Wilma Flintstone and for seducing a 12-year-old boy in BIG.

So all in all, ABOUT LAST NIGHT isn't terrible. But in terms of films based on David Mamet plays, it's certainly no GLENGARRY GLEN ROSS – which I'm surprised upon adapting no one wanted to rename something less ambiguous, like REAL ESTATE WARS or FIVE ANGRY MEN.

Final thought: the title of this movie is uttered out loud by the characters several times, should you be after a new drinking game.

Three stars out of five.

Valid use of the word ‘last’?  Not really, as we’re talking about a love affair and not a one-night stand. But I guess it’s catchier than ABOUT ALL THOSE PREVIOUS NIGHTS WE’VE SPENT TOGETHER DURING WHICH SOME THINGS HAPPENED …

What would a movie called ABOUT FIRST NIGHT be about?  That would be the ideal title for a behind-the-scenes DVD feature on the Sean Connery/Richard Gere 1995 Arthurian romp FIRST KNIGHT.

Previously:  THE LAST MAN ON EARTH

Next time:  THE LAST DAYS OF AMERICAN CRIME

Check out my books:  Jonathanlastauthor.com

THE LAST STARFIGHTER (1984, Nick Castle)

 

* * * 

A teenager is so good at videogaming that aliens snap him up to fight in an interstellar war for real.

Starring  Lance Guest, Dan O'Herlihy, Robert Preston, Catherine Mary Stewart

Written by  Jonathan R Betuel

Produced by  Gary Adelson, Edward O Denault

Duration  101 minutes

INT. LORIMAR PRODUCTIONS, HOLLYWOOD, CA. - MID ‘80S

FADE IN on a HUGE MOUNTAIN, not unlike the Paramount logo.

PULL OUT to reveal that it is actually a HUGE PILE OF COCAINE, stacked up on a LONG DESK in a CORPORATE BOARDROOM.

We take in more of the boardroom and the several MOVIE EXECUTIVES who are buzzing around in an animated state of BRAINSTORMING. The walls are covered in POST-IT NOTES and the EXECUTIVES are GESTICULATING WILDLY at each other.

One of them, clearly the BOSS, CRASHES DOWN face-first into the coke and begins SNORTING IT LIKE AN OPEN HATCH ON A SPACE SHIP, while we tune into a nearby conversation.

 

EXECUTIVE #1
(excitedly)

I’ve got it! I’ve got it!

 

EXECUTIVE #2

What? What?

 

The BOSS looks up from his SCARFACE-STYLE MOUNTAIN OF POWDER to take in their exchange. The white mask on his face makes it look like he is participating in a DRUG-FUELLED REVERSE MINSTRAL SHOW.

EXECUTIVE #1

Okay, so you’ve got Arnold Schwarzenegger, right? He’s big, right?

 

EXECUTIVE #2

Big. Yeah?

 

EXECUTIVE #1

Right, okay, and so then you’ve got Danny Devito. He’s, he’s--

 

BOSS
(getting it)

Small...

EXECUTIVE #1

Yes! Small! They couldn’t be any different, but what if, what if-- guys, you’ve gotta hear this-- what if--

 

EXECUTIVE #3
(interrupting)

No good.

 

EXECUTIVE #1

What?

 

EXECUTIVE #3

My buddy is Ivan Reitman’s assistant. His people are already working on a treatment, I think it’s called 'Condom Full of Walnuts Meets Testicle with Arms'. Arnold and Danny as brothers. 

(beat)

I told my buddy they’re gonna need to work on that title.

 

SILENCE. Apart from the sound of ENORMOUS LINES OF COCAINE being snorted.

BOSS
(getting an idea)

Guys...

 

His colleagues all TURN TO HIM in TWITCHY ANTICIPATION.

 

BOSS (CONT'D)

I’ve got it. Kids like video games, right?

 

EXECUTIVE #2

Yeah...

 

BOSS

What’s better than just playing a video game?

 

No one knows. Many stand around RUBBING THEIR GUMS, as if expecting to find the answer there.

 

BOSS

Being a real hero in your own video game!

GASPS around the room. Everyone starts to rack up an EXTRA CHUNKY LINE. Everyone except EXECUTIVE #1.

 

EXECUTIVE #1
(timidly)

But, but boss ... didn’t Disney already do that? TROM or something--

 

BOSS

You’re fired!

(pushes an intercom)

Marlene, get me Universal.

(thinks a beat)

And Pablo Escobar!

FADE TO BLACK

Allow me to indulge in some nostalgia for a moment.

No, not for THE LAST STARFIGHTER. I’m certain I watched it as an adolescent but couldn’t remember much – just something about an arcade machine in a motorway service-station (actually turns out it was a trailer park), some kind of proto-X-WING game that our lead was so good at, he somehow got recruited to fight actual aliens. Other than that, I wasn't sure which memories were of this film and which were of everyone’s favourite Fred Savage-starring Super Mario Bros. 3 commercial, THE WIZARD.

My nostalgia is instead for a time when arcade machines were everywhere. If you popped out with your Dad to get fish and chips on a Friday night, there would be a Streetfighter 2 or Final Fight cabinet you could have a go on while the bloke behind the counter was still scooping out the chunky chips to join your battered saveloy. Cinema foyers had them, too; I have vivid memories of darting out of the queue for ROBIN HOOD: PRINCE OF THIEVES at the ABC Catford to give the 3D Pac-Mania a go.

But as the ’90s wore on, bit by bit the coin-operated game in the corner disappeared. Some suffered the indignity of being replaced by a fruit machine, which was no substitute, let me tell you.

THE LAST STARFIGHTER takes us back to that glorious time when the arcade machine was still king. 

The film booms into life with a space backdrop and a musical score that is the exact median between STAR WARS and SUPERMAN: THE MOVIE, over credits that come at you like FLASH GORDON. You certainly can’t accuse this thing of not setting its stall out early.

Our hero is Alex Rogan, who pines to escape his small town existence, where his reliability as a handyman around the trailer park means that he can't get away to spend Saturday with his pickup-driving pals and love interest – old Mrs Elvira’s dodgy pipework isn’t going to fix itself!

Now, Lance Guest was 24 at the time of filming, playing a character who is supposed to be a teenager. As with every time this happens, the most the filmmakers can do to sustain the illusion of youth is to keep poor Lance completely clean-shaven at all times. They must have had to put a razor to him between every take to prevent even one tell-tale hair poking through, removing trash bags full of empty shaving foam cans from the set each day. It’s surely only a matter of time before we see a class action lawsuit filed by Guest, Richard Grieco (TEEN AGENT), Alan Ruck (FERRIS BUELLER'S DAY OFF), Billy Warlock (SOCIETY) and the rest against movie studios for historic abuse, claiming debilitating skin conditions caused by years of stubble rash.

Anyway, Alex saunters off to relieve his frustrations by yanking furiously on his joystick. But today won't be like any of the other times he's stood prone in front of a screen with his brow furrowed and sweat seeping out of his pores. "Nine-hundred thousand – you're gonna bust the record!" exclaims the toothless old cleaner who likes to watch Alex when he's playing with himself.

This prompts the entire community to evacuate their trailers and gather around one man (I mean, boy) and his Starfighter arcade cabinet. The bleeps and blips are joined by whoops and cheers until the entire spectacle climaxes with the machine announcing that Alex is indeed a "record breaker".

But the trailer park folk aren’t the only ones to witness Alex be the best of the best at aiming long pixilated lines at moving pixilated shapes on a black background. Later that night, a humanoid alien in a flying DeLorean (five years before BACK TO THE FUTURE PART 2!) turns up and tells Alex that the game was really a recruitment tool and that Alex is "the best we’ve ever seen".

From then on, it’s basically what A NEW HOPE would have been like if the third act had taken up 80% of the movie. Back in 1984, with no new STAR WARS on the horizon after RETURN OF THE JEDI closed off the trilogy the previous summer, this would have been catnip for those desperately jonesing for more battles in space.

Viewed today, it's a palatable slice of cheese-on-toast from an era when a kid could still dream of immortality being just a 20p coin away.

Three stars out of five.

Valid use of the word ‘last’?  It’s kind of unclear as to how Alex is the last of those who fight among the stars, since he meets a shitload of others from a bunch of different planets. 

What would a movie called THE FIRST STARFIGHTER be about?  Arguably, it's STAR WARS: THE PHANTOM MENACE – since that whole saga is set ‘a long time ago’, they presumably made it into space before the rest of us.

Previously:  THE LAST SEVEN

Next time:  THE LAST THING HE WANTED

Check out my books:  Jonathanlastauthor.com

INDIANA JONES AND THE LAST CRUSADE (1989, Steven Spielberg)

 * * * * * 

Whip-cracking, daredevil archaeologist Indiana Jones teams up with his father (also an archaeologist, but a stuffy old-fashioned one) to track down the actual holy grail.

Starring  Harrison Ford, Sean Connery, Denholm Elliott, Alison Doody, John Rhys-Davies, Julian Glover

Written by  Jeffrey Boam

Produced by  Robert Watts

Duration  128 minutes

Despite the five stars, I am going to come down on LAST CRUSADE, just a tiny bit.

The film plays it a little too safe. Spielberg reproduces all the beats from RAIDERS, but this time with the comedy cranked all the way up. He wants to exorcise our memories of TEMPLE OF DOOM, copying best pal and Indy collaborator George Lucas’s tactic with STAR WARS: deliver popular first instalment, go dark for the sequel, reign it in and return to the tried and tested for part three. 

(See also Robert Zemeckis’s Spielberg-produced BACK TO THE FUTURE saga, although Zemeckis did at least introduce a Western setting to freshen up his trilogy-capper).

Now, OK, I get it. TWILIGHT ZONE: THE MOVIE fucked everybody up; John Landis the most, of course, but the other directors involved in that ill-fated project were not in the mood for any more darkness after such a shocking onset tragedy, the fallout from which was still rumbling through the courts. Steve got all his angst out of his system with TEMPLE and then insisted on nothing but lightness in his next franchise picture. 

Added to this, by the late ’80s his marriage to Amy Irving was on the rocks, so the biggest director in the world just wanted to have some fun and forget about troublesome things. Hence finally doing his Bond film with the main man himself, and making the endeavour much more of a comedy with some adventuring than an adventure sprinkled with jokes.

But TEMPLE is still my personal favourite – yeah yeah, it’s not ‘better’ than RAIDERS, but it's the one I come back to the most. What if Steve (and George, can’t forget him) had decided to travel further down this challenging path for Indy? I'm not sure how much darker they could have gone than kidnapped children working as slave miners, hearts getting ripped out and a possessed Indy intimidating his pre-teen sidekick, but it’s just a shame that we got RAIDERS: HERE WE GO AGAIN instead of another stab at something more daring.

I can't find it anymore, but I once watched a YouTube video where someone played TERMINATOR 2 and TERMINATOR 3 side by side to demonstrate how the later film completely replicates the structure of its predecessor. I’ve never seen this done with RAIDERS and CRUSADE, but I’m betting that it would work. If you’re flicking through the channels and come in during the truck chase towards the end of CRUSADE’s second act, then it might take you a few minutes to realise that you’re not watching the truck chase towards the end of RAIDERS’ second act.

And then there’s that overabundance of humour. Take how the film treats the character of Marcus Brody. In RAIDERS, he’s Indy’s friend and colleague at the university, a sturdy influence who provides our hero with the knowledge and confidence he needs to embark on his quest. In CRUSADE, he’s reimagined as a goofy counterpoint to Henry Sr, someone notorious for getting lost in his own museum and who stumbles around foreign countries mumbling, "Uhhh ... excuse me ... does anyone here speak English?"

But come on, before this becomes the most negative five-star review of all time – of course CRUSADE is a brilliant film. 

One thing I especially appreciate is that the obligatory relationship subplot is actually between Indy and his Dad, rather than a forced love-interest. Screenwriter Jeffrey Boam (THE DEAD ZONE, THE LOST BOYS, LETHAL WEAPON 2) has the good sense to realise that no one gives a shit about Alison Doody’s Dr Elsa Schneider, and so rather than dragging her tryst with Indy out all through the movie before having her betray the Joneses towards the end in a stunning 'twist', Boam tosses the reversal in as soon as possible so we can get her out the way and spend more time with the father/son dynamic.

This decision to sideline her character does make one feel pretty sorry for the soon-to-be-forgotten Doody. When she signed up to be the top-billed woman in the latest Steven Spielberg blockbuster co-starring Harrison Ford and Sean Connery, I doubt she considered the possibility that it wouldn't boost her career.

Which leads me to mention in closing that although CRUSADE was clearly made as a family-friendly tonic to the nastiness of TEMPLE, which Spielberg had already disowned, one nicely adult touch still crept in: the revelation that both generations of Jones men have slept with the same double-crossing villainous woman. Good on ya, Sean!

Five stars out of five.

Valid use of the word ‘last’?  Well, that cave place they were all fleeing at the end was pretty much collapsing all around the old knight dude, so no one's getting back in there again.

What would a movie called INDIANA JONES AND THE FIRST CRUSADE be about?  Either some kind of prequel with a Jones ancestor set in the 11th Century, or flashing back to an even-younger-than-River Indy, when he's a four-year-old on a quest to exert his authority over Henry Sr and his hitherto unseen mother – possibly by refusing to eat his broccoli. 

Previously:  THE LAST EMPEROR

Next time:  THE LAST SUMMER

Check out my books:  Jonathanlastauthor.com

THE LAST EMPEROR (1987, Bernardo Bertolucci)

 

* * 

Biopic about the life of Aisin-Gioro Puyi, the 11th and final Emperor of China.

Starring  John Lone, Joan Chen, Peter O’Toole, Ying Ruocheng, Victor Wong, Dennis Dun

Written by  Mark Peploe, Bernardo Bertolucci

Produced by  Jeremy Thomas   

Duration  163 minutes   

Could THE LAST EMPEROR be the ultimate Oscar ‘prestige’ film? It certainly ticks all the boxes:

– Bum-numbing runtime.

– Foreign setting (where everyone speaks English with an accent, so there’s no need for subtitles).

– Foreign director (from a different foreign country), who is also a ‘name’.

– True-life story.

– Sweeping cinematography.

– Lots of impressive costumes and sets.

– Bombastic score.

– ‘Important’, in some way.

And, holy shit: the thing won nine Academy Awards in 1987. Everything it was up for! And it did so THE LORD OF THE RINGS: THE RETURN OF THE KING style, with nothing troubling the acting categories (see also TITANIC, although that did get Actress and Supporting Actress nominations).

What else was in the running for the big prize that year? You had BROADCAST NEWS, FATAL ATTRACTION, MOONSTRUCK, and HOPE AND GLORY. No clear winner among those, with that last one probably having the best chance since it was another historical drama.

So what swung the vote for LAST EMPEROR? Most likely it was the final point on my above tick list.

Being known as an important film rings alarm bells, as far as I’m concerned. That can be worse than style over substance: worthiness over substance. But then, maybe worthiness is substance? If so, only politically, not artistically. And from where did this worthiness actually originate? Was it the filmmakers’ intention, or was it manufactured later on by the marketing team? You know what I mean: "This is the movie we need right now", "A significant film for our times" – that sort of bollocks. Do directors hope to make a film that resonates specifically at the particular time of its release? Does a screenwriter sit down and think, OK, what's the most important thing I could possibly write my story about?

As a film, LAST EMPEROR seems to have been completely forgotten. It’s never mentioned in best-of lists, or cited as a worthy or unworthy Oscar winner. Its only discernible cultural impact was getting The Simpsons’ parody treatment, in the Stonecutters episode. And is there anyone who has ever sat at home and said, "Ooh, you know what, come on, let’s fire up THE LAST EMPEROR!" " … But I thought we were going clubbing?" "I said give me 10 CCs of LAST EMPEROR, stat!"

Also getting those alarm bells ringing for me was the critical consensus on LAST EMPEROR: phrases banded about like ‘visually breathtaking’, ‘astonishing use of locations’ and ‘stunning opulence’. Was I about to spend nearly three hours staring at a travelogue, as nice-looking but uninvolving as slowly leafing through a pile of holiday brochures?

Personally, I don’t care about nice scenery. I don’t care about historical accuracy. I don’t care if Bertolucci was the first director allowed to film in China's Forbidden City. Alright, that's harsh: I care a little bit, in passing, but not enough to sustain me through 163 minutes. I need more. I need story, characters, incident. I need it to be worth the time spent with this emperor – as a human being, not as a symbol or icon, no matter now pretty his clothes and surroundings may be.

So, did THE LAST EMPEROR give me what I need? Not really, I’m afraid. I’d call it the most boring Best Picture winner ever, but then THE ENGLISH PATIENT came along a decade later to tick those boxes all over again.

After opening on our emperor chap towards the end of his life in 1950, in what had by then become the People's Republic of China (and to which point the narrative will switch back intermittently), we start at the beginning, when he is coronated as a mere toddler. He’s petulant and sulky and rude to his servants, including Cary-Hiroyuki Tagawa (LICENCE TO KILL, RISING SUN, Shang Tsung in 1995's MORTAL KOMBAT).

This earliest period is mercifully brief, and we soon skip ahead to the teenaged emperor; although he’s still pretty bratty, revelling in the fact he can ‘do anything I want’. You could call this the coming of age segment, except that he doesn’t learn anything and is too irritating and arrogant for us to invest in his journey. When he learns that China outside the Forbidden Kingdom now has a president and so he ain’t the emperor of nowt no more, we think, Good, maybe now you'll learn some humility, ya spoilt little twerp.

From then on, we jump through the rest of his life, as he becomes gradually less insufferable, but no more interesting. He’s tutored by Peter O’Toole, who I think was sober during his scenes, but there’s no guarantee that his drinking buddies Ollie Reed and Richard Harris weren’t visiting the set and getting him plastered between takes. There are some tense moments when an optician tells our man he needs glasses, but his entourage insists that ‘the emperor does not wear spectacles!’ He marries Joan Chen and has a second wife as well, kind of. He cuts off his ceremonial ponytail, checks out of the Forbidden City and becomes a self-proclaimed ‘playboy’ in the outside world. Sometimes there’s a voiceover, sometimes there isn’t. Eunuchs are mentioned frequently. People loll around zonked out on opium. I too struggle try to stay awake.

Probably the highlight for me came during the opening credits, when I learned that there were in fact three collaborations in the ’80s between Dennis Dun and Victor Wong, beyond the John Carpenter classics BIG TROUBLE IN LITTLE CHINA and PRINCE OF DARKNESS. They’re even credited together! But sadly, they don’t share any scenes, let alone face down ancient sorcerers or cylinders hidden under monasteries that contain the liquid embodiment of Satan.

I don’t think I ever got over that disappointment, and LAST EMPEROR never provided anything that adequately compensated. At least I managed to get through this whole review without once using the word ‘epic’ ... shit.

Two stars out of five.

Valid use of the word ‘last’?  As far as China was concerned, absolutely. See other individual countries for current status of emperor-ness.

What would a movie called THE FIRST EMPEROR be about?  Qin Shi Huang was the founder of the Qin dynasty and the first emperor of a unified China. His era of 259 BC was quite a while ago, so details for a biopic are likely to be pretty sketchy.

Previously:  PUSS IN BOOTS: THE LAST WISH

Next time:  INDIANA JONES AND THE LAST CRUSADE

Check out my books:  Jonathanlastauthor.com