Bad Timing (1980)

 ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

Bad Timing (1980) – N. Roeg

Let’s face it, after the high-water marks of Walkabout (1971) and Don’t Look Now (1973), director Nicolas Roeg never really made it as an auteur (he also co-directed Perfomance, 1969, with Donald Cammell and served as cinematographer for Lester, Schlesinger, Truffaut, others).  This might be his last hurrah (though there were other attempts to follow this theme to come). Perhaps following on from the cut-up technique he used to edit the Julie Christie-Donald Sutherland sex scene in Don’t Look Now, he used that technique for Bad Timing, although for the entire film.  Some reports suggest the film was shot as a straightforward erotic thriller and only later sliced and diced (à la William Burroughs) but I prefer to see it as a puzzle film, intended as such. After Tom Waits’ “Invitation to the Blues” plays, we are in an ambulance with Art Garfunkel tending to a comatose Theresa Russell (subsequent versions of this scene include “Who Are You”). From there, we jump back and forth in time across their (intense) relationship. It’s an “opposites attract” scenario with free spirited Russell living in the moment and Freudian psychotherapy professor Garfunkel trying to control her. In keeping with Garfunkel’s occupation, sex and death are the main themes here, but it isn’t clear who is unravelling more as the film “progresses” (or just as more details are added to beginning, middle, and end).  At some point, we realise that Harvey Keitel is actually a police detective investigating whether any malfeasance has taken place on the night that Russell was sent to the hospital and suspicion rests on Garfunkel. Things do conclude with a revelation and I guess that cements the feeling that both characters are equally damaged by this oil-and-water affair. But the reason to watch this film (if you are fully prepared) is for the madness and intensity and brave acting by both Russell (who subsequently married Roeg) and Garfunkel (previously in Carnal Knowledge, 1971, another risky choice) who don’t shy away from nakedness (physical or emotional).  Reviews suggest this is polarizing (no surprise).

Superman II (1980)

 ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

Superman II (1980) – R. Lester

I have mostly skipped the comic book fare of the last decade (or two) but, at the insistence of Amon (aged 8), I re-watched Superman (1978) and this sequel, which is perhaps a better film. (I’m not even going to tell him about Superman III with Richard Pryor which I still remember with horror).  As foreshadowed at the start of the first film, Superman has to fight three supervillains led by General Zod (Terence Stamp) after they are freed (by a nuclear explosion in space) from the “Phantom Zone” jail created by the leaders of the planet Krypton to lock them away forever.  Of course, they arrive on Earth (via the Moon) and start to wreak havoc.  Meanwhile, Clark Kent has finally let Lois Lane (Margot Kidder) know his secret identity and has given up his super-powers to become mortal – just at exactly the wrong time!  Even more than in the first film, Superman II (directed by Richard Lester, best known for his work with The Beatles; e.g., Help!) has its tongue firmly in its cheek and Christopher Reeve carries it off.  The old-school action sequences are so much better than the CGI explosions of today, even if the citizens of Metropolis are seen to be laughing as the villains and Superman throw each other through buildings and cars get blown across the city streets (by Zod’s bad breath). Of course, it all ends well (and Clark even gives Lois a magic kiss to wipe her memory).  This is what larger than life comic-book style is all about. Amon gave it a big thumbs up.

 

Atlantic City (1980)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

Atlantic City (1980) – L. Malle

There’s something quaint and a little bit corny here in Louis Malle’s Atlantic City.  We’re treated to aging Burt Lancaster offered a glimpse of past glories (that may never have been) in a city that has also seen better days.  There’s a rough and gritty 1970s look (the clothes, the cars, the hair, the attitudes, the telephones) that you can’t really be nostalgic for, except somehow you are.  (And sitting here in the 10s, missing the 70s in a movie where they miss the 40s is pretty weird). Everyone’s down at the heels, including thirty-something Susan Sarandon who works at an oyster bar and wants to be a casino dealer (encouraged by Michel Piccoli, in a bit part as the casino owner).  Then a drug deal gone bad places Burt (playing Lou, a former numbers-runner for the mob but now a gigolo of sorts, walking the dog and rubbing the feet of a dead mobster’s widow) in the right place at the right time. So, he attempts to claim some nobility until the real drug dealers figure things out.  Although Lancaster and Sarandon give strong and “real” performances, the rest of the characters here veer toward caricature (the corny part) but there’s a warm and endearing feel nevertheless.  Not perfect by any means but this French look at fading America captures something wistful in the air (before the 80s need for greed quashed it).

The Shining (1980)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ½

The Shining (1980) -- S. Kubrick

Jack Nicholson and Shelley Duvall agree to act as caretakers to the Overlook Hotel in Colorado during the winter.  Their son Danny comes with them and his psychic powers are immediately enflamed because of the Hotel’s scary past – a previous caretaker had murdered his wife and two daughters with an axe.  Stephen King, author of the source novel, notoriously hated this film version because of the transgressions that Stanley Kubrick made when transposing the book to the screen.  There is no doubt either that this is a Kubrick film, dominated by his obsessional production design and odd touches – and endless tracking shots (in the hotel’s hallways and in the giant hedge maze outside).  I never noticed during previous viewings just how slow and dream-like the acting can be.  For example, when Jack sits with Danny on the bed, telling him how he wishes they could stay in the hotel forever (and ever and ever), the camera hangs expectantly and the scene takes a few beats longer than it should.  Moreover, when Jack meets Delbert Grady in the red and white men’s room the pauses between each line seem enormous and when they are shown in a two-shot, it feels like a staged Jeff Wall photograph (as does the earlier shot in the bedroom and the shot with the scary naked women in Room 237).  But truly it is the soundtrack, dominated by Penderecki, that makes even mundane scenes feel creepy and even horrifying. But how mundane is the film, really?  On the simplest level, this is a film about a breakdown in a family, with Nicholson perhaps feeling hemmed in and restricted by his wife and son (this is less overt in the 113-minute international cut of the film that I watched).  However, there may be deeper levels – and in fact that wormhole can be very deep (try googling The Shining and conspiracy – or watch the outrageous documentary Room 237) with a range of experts putting together the evidence from Kubrick’s changes, ellipses, mistakes, and perhaps intended clues and contradictions (particularly in “telling” continuity errors and the jumbled physical geography of the hotel).  Of course, it seems believable that Kubrick wanted to comment on family and relationship issues which can easily elicit anxiety and horror when trust slips, but was he also encoding messages about the Holocaust or genocide of the Native Americans?  Has he left clues that he faked the Apollo 11 moon landing footage?  On this pass through the film, I could find no real evidence of these “deeper” things, even though I was looking.  However, I didn’t try to unpack the evidence closely.  I am willing to believe that Kubrick was deliberately trying to disorient us and that things in the film are there for a reason.  Yet, I just let the dream imagery wash over me and I prayed for Scatman Crothers to come to my rescue.

The Big Red One (1980)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

The Big Red One (1980) – S. Fuller

Although it lacks the intense socio-political message(s) that director Sam Fuller crammed into his earlier war picture The Steel Helmet (1951), the Big Red One instead succeeds on the basis of its sheer epic nature (at least in this 160 minute reconstruction).  Across a number of different theatres of WWII, Lee Marvin and his squad try to stay alive while Germans try to kill them.  Robert Carradine stands in for Fuller himself (these are his personal anecdotes), a cigar chomping fledgling author.  Mostly the film feels alive rather than grim or horrifying (although there is that) – maybe we become numb to all the dead bodies because the characters themselves are numb?  Marvin is tough but also warm and the affection Fuller feels/felt for this sergeant comes through loud and clear.  The rest of the characters (including Mark Hamil) are somewhat less defined (and all a bit juvenile, as they probably were).  Relentlessly, the war keeps coming and coming and coming, yet somehow the movie never feels long.  We are alive and focused on the moment of action.

  

Melvin and Howard (1980)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

Melvin and Howard (1980) – J. Demme

American films from the 1970’s have a different feel, although I suppose I’m thinking pretty specifically about films by Bob Rafelson or Bob Altman.  But there are probably countless other examples of these kinds of character-driven (not formulaic) films that are funky and good-looking but not overly stylized with great soundtracks.  Maybe we should throw Scorsese in here or F. F. Coppola and that might make sense since Jonathan Demme, like these two, began with exploitation films.  Sure, Melvin and Howard is a 1980 film but it clocks in just under the wire before the blockbuster really changed things for the worse and marketing took over art in Hollywood.  But I digress.  Melvin and Howard is an easy going tale based on the real story of a blue collar man who picks up Howard Hughes one night in his pick-up truck and ends up being mentioned in Hughes’ will (to the tune of 156 million).  The movie actually focuses on Melvin Dummar (Paul Le Mat) and his life, with all of its ups and downs, marriages and divorces to wacky Mary Steenburgen (a stripper/dancer), and move up to Utah from Vegas.  Demme films it all on location and it feels real and very 1970s America when people coped as best they could and often gave it their all.

   

Mon Oncle d’Amerique (1980)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

Mon Oncle d’Amerique (1980) – A. Resnais

After an audacious start (placing human nature in its biological context), Resnais presents three interwoven case studies of bourgeois lives, filled with alternating success and frustration. Then, just as audaciously, a psychologist begins to comment (using a sort of evolutionary behaviorism), linking the action to a theory about "need for dominance" and the likelihood of depression (or aggression) when dominance is foiled. Lab rats demonstrate. Outmoded but intriguing.

The Long Good Friday (1980)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

The Long Good Friday (1980) -- J. Mackenzie

Easily my favorite British gangster film, driven by a powerhouse performance by Bob Hoskins and an amazing propulsive score by Francis Monkman.  Hoskins is the leader of a "corporation" that is seeking to bring the Olympics to London (in 1988) and do a multimillion pound development of the docklands area.  On Good Friday, he meets with his potential American business partner (played by Alphaville's Eddie Constantine) to seal the deal. However, all hell breaks loose, as bombs explode and Hoskins' associates are murdered.  He is being done over and he doesn't know by whom -- the movie unfolds as a good mystery should, only gradually revealing the brutal truth. The score, the editing, and the intermittent violence help to ratchet up the tension which shows in the emotional performances by Hoskins and his moll Helen Mirren.  Highly recommended. 

The Empire Strikes Back (1980)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

The Empire Strikes Back (1980) -- I. Kershner

In some ways, this is better than the first Star Wars, however you couldn't just jump in without having watched "Episode 4" because the narrative is much more "serial" like. That is, we jump right in where the other movie left off, with no real exposition to introduce the characters. The direction here is often a lot more "fun" and the cross-cutting episodic structure works well (from the ice planet Hoth to Billy Dee Williams' cloud city). The Yoda scenes pay tribute to the film's spiritual kung fu roots, even as we are still squarely situated in an action movie, for better or for worse. The plot does advance in this episode and naturally leaves us hanging for the next installment (another three years later -- a lifetime for a young boy).