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Film Features Film/TV

Now Playing In Memphis: Parties, Planes, and 3 Women

Normally, this is the time for the midwinter blues at the multiplex, but 2023 is starting strong, thanks to our robot friend M3GAN. Here’s my full review of this killer flick.

Stepping up to challenge M3GAN is a reboot of the cult 1990 hip hop comedy classic House Party produced by baller supreme, LeBron James. To answer your first question, yes, Kid N’ Play are in it. So are Snoop Dogg, Lil Wayne, and a whole house full of celebrities who show up when cleaners Kevin (Jacob Latimore) and Damon (Tosin Cole) hijack King James’ crib for an epic throwdown. 

Gerald Butler is Brodie, a pilot who crash lands in the Philippines with a full load of passengers in Plane. He soon discovers that the jungle is ruled by a feral, anti-government militia who takes his survivors hostage, hoping to get big ransoms from their families. Bodie must enlist a convicted murderer (Luke Cage’s Mike Colter) who was being extradited on his plane to help rescue the passengers. Beatings ensue.  

In Puss In Boots: The Last Wish, the cutlass-armed kitty cat from Shrek returns with Antonio Banderas in the lead voice role as a swashbuckler on a mission to restore eight of his nine lives. But Florence Pugh as Goldilocks, the leader of the Three Bears crime family, wants the Wishing Star, too. The DreamWorks film was nominated for a Best Animated Feature Golden Globe. 

Never bet against James Cameron, they say. And they’re right! Avatar: The Way of Water recently topped Top Gun: Maverick as 2022’s biggest box office draw, and it’s quickly closing in on the $2 billion mark. It helps that there’s actually a decent story to go with the next-level visual effects. If you’re going to see this one, make sure it’s the IMAX 3D version, and go soon!

At Black Lodge on Sunday is a triple feature of 90’s comedy, including Amy Heckerling’s 1995 classic Clueless. Like, duh!

On Thursday, Jan. 19, the Crosstown Arts film series presents Robert Altman’s 3 Women. The director’s follow-up to his seminal improv comedy Nashville is based on a vivid dream Altman had. Starring Shelly Duvall in her greatest role, and the legend Sissy Spacek before she was legendary, the mostly scriptless film owes some of its psychological complexity to the third woman, Janice Rule, who had just completed her PhD, and went on to retire from acting and become a practicing psychiatrist in Hollywood.

See you at the movies!

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Film/TV Film/TV/Etc. Blog

Throwback August: Nashville


Nashville
(1975; dir. Robert Altman)—In an ironic twist that would probably delight Opal, Nashville’s clueless English journalist/groupie/hyperbole machine, BBC.com recently named Altman’s rambling network narrative about country music, hero worship, God, America, life, liberty and all the rest, one of the 25 greatest American films. But I’m not part of its fan club. I wouldn’t show it to anyone as evidence of Altman’s genius, either; I’d lead with something earlier (California Split, McCabe and Mrs. Miller) or later (Short Cuts, Gosford Park) to make my case. Like David Lynch’s Blue Velvet, Nashville is a beloved work from a major artist I respect and admire that leaves me wondering what I’m missing, no matter how many times I see it.

Forty years later, Nashville’s combination of triple-decker sound design and gliding, rubbernecking three- and four-way imagery remains stimulating and fun to roam around in. But an awful lot of fat and filler gunks up this cynical 160-minute pep rally, and the alleged viewer freedom offered by Altman’s roving zooms and overlapping dialogue is seldom as radical as its reputation. Plus, the country music that keeps the film a-goin’ is often just plain bad, particularly during a wheel-spinning 20-minute concert sequence at The Grand Ole Opry. Whatever topical humor folks chuckled at back then is out of date by now, although some of the most outlandish satirical touches have indeed turned into prophecy; the campaign speeches droning on from the Hal Phillip Walker-mobile sound Trump-like in their button-pushing iconoclasm and defiant claims to political-outsider legitimacy.

Ronee Blakely as Barbara Jean in Nashville

Notwithstanding key physical and emotional contributions from polyestered, pot-bellied presences like Alan Garfield and Ned Beatty (“I’m gonna hard-boil me a couple eggs”), a thrillingly brief Elliott Gould cameo wherein he smartasses his way through a log-cabin luncheon, and everything about the indomitable Lily Tomlin, the most affecting scenes involve men humiliating and embarrassing women. Several small moments—a singer (Christina Raines) chanting unreturned “I love you”s in a hotel bed while her bedmate and band member (Keith Carradine) snoozes next to her, or Barbara Harris lurking and peeping from the wings like the Phantom of The Opry as her pantyhose and dignity tear and fray—secretly prepare you for the big, unforgettable ones. Like the meandering monologue by troubled singer Barbara Jean (Ronee Blakely, who wrote this scene the night before shooting) that sabotages her riverboat concert. Or the off-key, mostly artificial and completely deluded Gwen Welles’ disastrous performance at a men-only Hal Phillip Walker benefit. When it comes to the women of Nashville, you may say they ain’t free. And it do worry me.
Grade: B


Throwback August: Nashville

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Film Features Film/TV

Time Warp Drive-In’s Hell on Wheels

Automotive and film technology came of age at roughly the same time, and cars have always been a particular source of fascination for filmmakers. When the first drive-in movie theater opened in New Jersey in 1933, it was the beginning of a potent and inevitable synergy between two of America’s favorite cultural forces. Movies sold the dream of freedom, and cars became the most prominent and expensive symbols of that freedom. People would pay to sit in their cars and watch movies about cars.

The theme of the next edition of the popular Time Warp Drive-In series (running the last Saturday of each month through October) is Hell On Wheels, which gave the organizers, filmmaker Mike McCarthy and Black Lodge Video proprietor Matthew Martin, plenty of choices for programming.

The night will kick off with George Lucas’ American Graffiti. The film was Lucas’ first big hit, made after the studio-destroying dystopian sci-fi film THX 1138 had all but ended his career. Few films can claim the deep cultural impact of Lucas’ Star Wars, but American Graffiti comes close. Its meandering, multi-character story structure bears a resemblance to Robert Altman or Richard Linklater’s work but is utterly unlike the Hero’s Journey plots that would come to be associated with Lucas’ later work. Still, Lucas’ techno-fetishism is on full display with the loving beauty shots of classic autos designed in the days before wind tunnels and ubiquitous seat belts.

Even though the film was set in 1962, the chronicle of aimless youth cruising around a sleepy California town kicked off a wave of nostalgia for all things 1950s. The pre-British Invasion rock-and-roll and doo-wop soundtrack became one of the best selling film soundtracks in history, and Ron Howard — who, as Opie on The Andy Griffith Show, was himself a bit of TV nostalgia — and Cindy Williams would ride the popularity of American Graffiti into starring roles on Happy Days and its spinoff, Laverene & Shirley. It also marked the big break of a struggling actor and part-time carpenter named Harrison Ford.

The second Hell on Wheels film, Two-Lane Blacktop, is a classic hot rod movie from 1971 starring James Taylor (yes, that James Taylor) and Beach Boys drummer Dennis Wilson. If American Graffiti manifested America’s longing for a simpler time before the social upheaval of the 1960s, Two-Lane Blacktop was one of the counterculture’s dying gasps. It’s an Easy Rider-like plot with muscle cars: Two nameless street racers heading east from California challenge a square (Warren Oates) to a cross-country race to Washington, D.C. The dialog is sparse and the performances fairly flat, but the real point of Two-Lane Blacktop is the wide-open vistas of a now-vanished America.

The third film of the night, 1968’s Bullitt, is similarly light on dialog, but it is the opposite of counterculture. Steve McQueen at his sexiest plays a homicide cop trying to solve the murder of a mob informant. McQueen’s Frank Bullitt is the prototype of the “playing by his own rules” cop that would become so familiar in later films, but the movie’s real significance lies in the epic car chase that sees McQueen driving an iconic 1968 fastback Mustang through the streets of San Francisco set to Lalo Schifrin’s swinging jazz score. The oft-imitated but never equaled scene is worth the price of admission for the entire evening.

The program closes with Robert Mitchum playing a Tennessee bootlegger in1953’s legendary Thunder Road. Mitchum co-wrote the screenplay and produced the movie, which tells the story of a Korean War vet’s turbulent return to the violent world of moonshiners and flophouses. The noir-inflected film served as the template for dozens of hot rod exploitation stories, taught greasers to emulate Mitchum’s laconic cool, and even inspired Bruce Springsteen to write a song about it. It’s a fitting capper to a night of burning rubber and tail fins.