One of the better songs from the 1980s era Rolling Stones, this was from the Stones’ decent but uneven 1983 album “Undercover.” The “hot” woman in the video is Anita Morris, who first gained fame starring in the original Broadway version of “Nine” and subsequently played sexy women “of a certain age” in many 1980s films (“The Hotel New Hampshire,” “Ruthless People”). It’s nice to see the Stones let a sexy older woman be the object of lust instead of the usual young bimbo. Sadly, Morris died of ovarian cancer in 1994. So, in honor of Ms. Morris and sexy older women everywhere, I’m raising a glass in tribute.
The video here is the uncensored version which was edited for MTV. From what I remember, the cut parts were the buttons flying off the pants of someone watching Ms. Morris and fire shooting out of her ass. Maybe there was more, but it’s been nearly 30 years since I watched this video.
Trivia note: this was Martin Scorsese’s original song choice to underscore the cocaine-helicopter freak-out scene from “Goodfellas.” However, he chose Harry Nilsson’s “Jump Into the Fire” instead, because the scene in the film took place in 1980 and “She Was Hot” came out in 1983. Scorsese advised he only uses songs that could have been out / released at the time a scene would take place. I think the Nilsson choice was better, but “She Was Hot” would have played wonderfully in that famous scene.
“American Gigolo” was a transitional film for writer/director Paul Schrader. Pre-“Gigolo”, Schrader was primarily known as the writer of “Taxi Driver” and director of “Hardcore,” which unabashedly showed the nastier side of the inner city sex industry. On one level, “Gigolo” was as sleazy as “Taxi Driver” and “Hardcore,” but it’s the film where Schrader started to trade (in his words) “violence for style.” The style in question was appropriated from Ferdinando Scarfiotti, the set designer for Bernardo Bertolucci’s 1970 masterpiece “The Conformist,” and who served as visual consultant for “Gigolo” (as well as for Brian De Palma’s 1983 remake of “Scarface”). Arguably, this is the film that made Giorgio Armani a household name in America and was the film that made Richard Gere a star.
“Gigolo”‘s story is almost like the seamier flipside of “Pretty Woman,” which came out 10 years later. Gere plays Julian Kay, a high-priced gigolo catering to rich women in Beverly Hills, Hollywood, and Palm Springs. While he has risen high enough in the ranks of prostitution to not trick with men, it’s clear that this wasn’t always the case. Julian eventually finds himself set up for a murder he didn’t commit, but his alibi is one of his tricks, who is married to a local politician. He needs to find a way to exonerate himself, but his journey leads him down some very dark paths and finds himself increasingly in danger.
“Gigolo” is a film that manages to be extremely sleazy without being offensive. But despite its high style, it’s not what I would call classy or clean (I mean that as a compliment, by the way.) Schrader has acknowledged the debt of Robert Bresson’s 1959 film “Pickpocket,” even though they are very different films from each other. However, if you watch and like “Gigolo,” you should really check out “Pickpocket” (which is available to watch for free if you have a HuluPlus subscription). The endings of both films are very very similar.
“The Great Rock n’ Roll Swindle” is an extremely controversial documentary about the Sex Pistols that features manager Malcolm McLaren as the lead character instead of the band. McLaren rewrites the Pistols’ history as being an elaborate hoax/scam/con job on the record industry and his running away with millions of dollars of corporate cash.
On one level, this is a very funny and engaging film. And the Sex Pistols footage is totally amazing to watch. However, as we’ve learned in subsequent years from numerous books and interviews with the surviving band members (and in Temple’s updated documentary from 2000 “The Filth and the Fury”), McLaren was not the master Machiavelli and lovable rogue he painted himself to be. Instead, McLaren was a largely incompetent, greedy, and (arguably) evil man who callously disregarded and exploited the pain and misery of those around him to get as much money as he possibly could that should have been rightfully been given to others. I still find the film entertaining, even with a huge asterix in my mind that what I’m watching is complete bollocks, to coin a phrase.
The Japanese subtitles on this trailer are appropriate, because the only way you could watch “The Great Rock n’ Roll Swindle” in America until around 1992 or so was on imported Japanese videocassettes. That’s how I first saw this film (around 1986) and was in constant rotation in my VCR for the next six years. It also features a lot of footage that never made the final film.
What’s really fascinating is that the Sex Pistols film was originally supposed to be a film called “Who Killed Bambi?” directed by American sexploitation master Russ Meyer and scripted by Roger Ebert. Ebert posted the entire script he wrote on his blog as well as his version of how his and Meyer’s involvement with the Pistols came about. A totally fascinating read.
When I first saw the preview for “Robocop” in the summer of 1987, I rolled my eyes and thought it looked like a really stupid “Terminator” ripoff. Except for one thing. I noticed that the director listed on the final title card was Paul Verhoeven. I hadn’t seen any of Paul Verhoeven’s critically acclaimed and controversial films from Holland at that point, but I did know the name and I became mildly intrigued.
Cut to a couple of months later. The film comes out, has a great opening weekend, and lots of my peers tell me it’s really really good. So, I check out “Robocop” with good, albeit modest expectations. The movie opens with some funny satirical ads from the future. I’m thinking, “OK, this is kind of funny,” and then we go to a corporate boardroom. The corporate talking heads are introducing a new robot that will help bring order to a crime-ridden Detroit. Except that there’s a technical glitch, which results in one of the most shockingly, graphically violent scenes I’ve ever seen in a film. Please note this is not safe for work or little ones and is the X-rated version of this scene that needed to be toned down for an American R-rating.
After the mayhem unravels, the scene ends with the CEO shaking his head at the VP who led this project, and saying “Dick, I’m very disappointed in you.” At that moment, Verhoeven’s mix of sardonic humor and sickening violence had me hooked.
The shocks and laughs continued. And not only did the nihilistic satire impress me, but the very visceral way the film was shot and edited knocked my socks off. It reminded me a lot of the first “Mad Max” film and did not look like anything else being produced by a Hollywood studio at the time. People criticize and praise Tarantino for mixing disturbing violence and humor, but Verhoeven was doing it in spades with the first “Robocop” in 1987. This scene featuring the corporate scumbag played by Miguel Ferrer, being eliminated by a sleazy hitman played by Kurtwood Smith (who is hired by another corporate scumbag played by Ronny Cox) is a prime example of this. I love the way the models/prostitutes casually run away from the sex/cocaine party like they’re missing an important TV show. This clip is also not safe for work.
While the nihilistic satirical attitude impressed me, Verhoeven still has the courage to invest his story with real pathos. The scene where Murphy/Robocop starts having flashbacks to his life as a human and goes home to find his wife and child gone and an empty house is heartbreaking.
“Robocop” still holds up more than 25 years later and it’s truly amazing (as outrageous as the film seemed at the time) how much it got right about our present day American life. Corporations don’t run police forces (at least not yet), but they do run a lot of American prisons. The return and popularity of gas guzzling automobiles reached its peak in our country in 1997 (which is when the first “Robocop” takes place).
While “Robocop” could be called an American classic, I feel funny saying that since the film has Verhoeven’s very European attitude guiding the film throughout.
“Taxi Driver” is arguably director Martin Scorsese’s best film. While I admire “Raging Bull” a lot, will watch “Hugo” with my kids anytime they want to watch it, and will put on “Goodfellas” when I want a Scorsese film to entertain me and make me laugh, “Taxi Driver” is the one that sticks to my brain the most.
Written by Paul Schrader when Schrader was coming out of the tail end of a hellish personal period when he was drinking too much and going to porn theaters, “Taxi Driver” is a brilliant portrait of a damaged mind rotting away into the ugliest thoughts a mind can have.
The lead character, Travis Bickle (in what’s arguably, Robert DeNiro’s greatest performance), is an ex-Marine who can’t sleep and decides to deal with his insomnia by being a taxi cab driver in NYC. However, Travis purposely seems to go the worse areas of NYC, specifically Times Square and 42nd street, for fares. As the unreliable narrator, he spits at this world and predicts that one day a real rain will come and wash all the scum off the streets.
But Travis can’t help subjecting himself to this world, even spending time in low-rent 8mm and 16mm porno theaters on his off hours. His vision is so warped that he convinces Betsy, a beautiful blonde campaign worker (played by Cybill Shepherd) to go on a date with him, but takes her to a fancy porno theater because he thinks it’s a classy date. He could be naive … or he could be wanting to subject her to the same filth he’s subjecting himself to … in much the same way emotionally crippled people put potential lovers through the ringer to prove their love for them. Betsy wisely ditches him, which sends Travis further down a downward spiral. Notice how the camera pans away from Travis while he’s on the phone. It’s almost like we can’t watch him being rejected because it’s too painful.
Travis then becomes obsessed with a teen prostitute named Iris, played by Jodie Foster and decides he wants to rescue her from her pimp, played by Harvey Keitel. He also becomes obsessed with the political candidate Betsy is working for. Travis starts buying guns and working out. The conclusion is troubling to say the least. Below is a scene where Travis in the middle of his madness is quietly watching “American Bandstand” with jaundiced eyes … especially watching the interracial couples dancing while pointing his gun at the TV. The song playing is Jackson Browne’s terrifically sad “Late for the Sky”:
“Taxi Driver” is the flipside and middle finger to the mid-1970s Charles Bronson urban revenge blockbuster “Death Wish.” DeNiro’s Travis character is not only nuts, but racist and sexually twisted. However, the way that Scorsese directs the film (with brilliant editing by Marcia Lucas), you can’t help but feel for Travis while also being repulsed by him.
Of course, by now, everyone knows that “Taxi Driver” was the film that inspired John Hinckley Jr. to attempt to assassinate President Ronald Reagan in 1981 in order to impress Jodie Foster. While this is (hopefully) a ridiculous notion to most of us, the film is so brilliantly made and gets you so far inside the mind of a gone individual, it really does seem like a blueprint for being a psychopath if one were not in the right frame of mind.
But that’s the problem with great art. By conveying the darkest parts of the human soul in a realistic and convincing manner, you run the risk of encouraging those in a similar frame of mind to identify a bit too deeply with what you’re trying to express. However, you can’t begin to understand such dark souls without realistically looking into the heart of darkness that beats in many lost souls that wander through our culture.
Another pre-internet mash-up gem … this time mixing “Peanuts” and David Lynch’s “Blue Velvet.” Yes, those Peanuts characters get dragged into all kinds of gleefully obscene memes. But that’s because most of them wind up being really freakin’ funny.
When you create a film that many people consider to be a masterpiece and a lasting contribution to the art of film (in director David Lynch’s case, it was 1986’s “Blue Velvet”), it’s a fool’s errand deciding what you’re going to do for an encore.
Some directors scale back and do something more modest (i.e. Quentin Tarantino’s “Jackie Brown,” Barry Levinson’s “Avalon”). Some directors create the epic they’ve always wanted to make, oftentimes with varying results: from great (Francis Ford Coppola’s “Apocalypse Now”, PT Anderson’s “Magnolia”) to severely flawed (Bernardo Bertolucci’s “1900”) to catastrophic (Michael Cimino’s “Heaven’s Gate”).
Still others decide to make a film that is a depository for every weird idea they’ve ever had, for every f–ked-up notion they’ve ever wanted to put into a film but couldn’t before, and are making this film because this is the one time they can possibly get away with it. These films are typically ones that you probably hate on first viewing, but may grow to like, even love. The best examples of this are Robert Altman’s “Brewster McCloud” (his follow-up to “MASH”), The Coen Brothers’ “The Big Lebowski” (their follow-up to “Fargo”), and David Lynch’s “Wild at Heart.”
“Wild at Heart” came with big expectations and actually won the Palme d’Or at 1990’s Cannes Film Festival (to a cavalcade of boos, allegedly led by Roger Ebert). I had huge expectations for “Wild at Heart,” not only because it was Lynch’s new film, but had Nicolas Cage (when he was only starring in cult movies), Harry Dean Stanton, Laura Dern, and Willem Dafoe, all favorite actors of mine.
My initial reaction? Supreme disappointment, almost anger. The film was as violent and disturbing as “Blue Velvet,” but I thought Lynch trying way too hard to live up to some reputation as some Fellini-esque boogeyman and was just being freaky and weird for the sake of being freaky and weird. I thought it was calculated and crass, a Troma film for art houses.
But … I couldn’t get the movie out of my head. I saw it again at college a few months later and liked it a little more. When I was home that summer, I rented it on video and grew to appreciate it even more. By the end of the summer, I was a fan, but still thought it was a much lesser work than “Blue Velvet” and “Eraserhead.”
Over the years, I’ve grown to like it a lot more and now see it as a transitional film for Lynch as an artist. Kind of a movie he had to get out of his system, before he really let his freak flag fly with “Lost Highway” and “Mulholland Dr.,” arguably his masterpiece even more than “Blue Velvet.” (I like “Blue Velvet” more, but think “Mulholland Dr.” is one of the most complex and brilliant films ever made).
This is not to belittle “Wild at Heart”. As I’ve said earlier, I’ve grown to appreciate and even love this film. Yes, it’s oftentimes weird for the sake of being weird. Yes, it’s patently (and I believe intentionally) ridiculous in many scenes, but if you’re in a mood to be rocked silly with graphic sex, violence, vulgarity, and insanity, it can be a lot of fun. Definitely not for prudes.
Watching this film just made me smile from ear to ear the first time I saw it back in 2000. The reason is that, for all intents and purposes, I was the lead character, William Miller, back in middle and high school … albeit with much much much less ambition … as evidenced by the fact that I didn’t pursue a career in journalism or filmmaking.
With the exception of “Say Anything,” “Almost Famous” is writer/director Cameron Crowe’s best film. It’s his autobiography disguised as fiction. What’s particularly amazing is that he really did live most of the antics in the film at the age of 15 and not only did Crowe not become a drug casualty or bitter hack as he got older, he transcended all of it and became a successful filmmaker.
Yes, there’s a lot of this film that may seem corny. But the lead character (as well as the person the lead character is based on) is only 15 … and is a decent person. His way of navigating this sometimes very dark world and maintaining his integrity is what makes this film particularly inspiring. It’s clear that Crowe has a genuine love for humanity and for people. As flawed as many of the characters are in this film, he doesn’t make any of them completely unlikable. His ability to see the humanity in a very debauched world is what makes this film such a joy to behold.
The performances, from Patrick Fugit as Miller, to Kate Hudson, Billy Crudup, Frances McDormand, Jason Lee, and Phillip Seymour Hoffman are all terrific. Hell, even Zooey Deschanel is charming in this film (which trust me, is extremely hard to admit).
A lot of rock critic types rolled their eyes at this film when it came out and you can sense the jealousy in their attacks for obvious reasons. While This is not a perfect film, denying its charms is to deny the film’s audacious optimism and humanity. This is a great, great movie and is a film that always makes me feel better about the world.
From 1968’s “White Light / White Heat” here is the Velvet Underground’s infamous 17-minute plus epic of noise and decadence “Sister Ray.” A bonafide classic and the last hurrah for the orginal VU when John Cale was still a member. After this, the Velvets were still a great act, but started to shift away from darker themes.
An outtake from the Stones’ 1978 masterpiece “Some Girls” that should have definitely been included in the original mix of songs, but now has thanks to the Deluxe Edition double CD that was recently released. While this cover of the Freddy Cannon classic is a damn nice discovery, the version by the Flamin’ Groovies from the early 1970s is even better:
Dave's Strange World 