From “Richard Pryor: Live on the Sunset Strip,” RIchard Pryor soberly reflects on how he never wants to use the “N” word again after visiting Africa. Extremely moving.
From “Richard Pryor: Live on the Sunset Strip,” RIchard Pryor soberly reflects on how he never wants to use the “N” word again after visiting Africa. Extremely moving.
The movies written, directed, and produced by John Hughes have a complex legacy. They are beloved and reviled by many and I can understand both reactions. First, the criticisms. Yes, the Hughes films oftentimes portray a one-dimensional view of adolescence, primarily showing teenagers as misunderstood lost souls in a world of uncaring and/or buffoonish adults. Yes, the Hughes films almost exclusively show a white (allegedly) middle-class view of the world. Yes, the Hughes films seem to exaggerate class and social differences in high school to increase the drama of his stories. And lastly, the Hughes films are sometimes too cute and cleverly written, giving adolescents an idealized world where they are smarter and funnier than all of the grown-ups around them.
Now, for the good stuff. It’s clear Hughes truly liked his teen characters, took them seriously, and most importantly, treated their concerns with the same gravity that teens often took them. Just because most of us have had life experiences that help us take life’s disappointments and setbacks in stride, we often forget how such setbacks can seem like the end of the world to a young person. It’s this sensitivity that still makes Hughes’s films resonate today and why many of them still hold up. They certainly hold up much better than the self-conscious “Heathers,” which comes off as someone trying too hard to make an anti-Hughes film.
Susanna Gora’s “You Couldn’t Ignore Me If You Tried” is an in-depth look about the making of Hughes’s most iconic teen films (“Sixteen Candles,” “The Breakfast Club,” “Pretty in Pink,” “Ferris Bueller’s Day Off,” ” Some Kind of Wonderful”), but also looks at a couple other Brat Pack films (“St. Elmo’s Fire,” “Say Anything”) and even includes a chapter on the impact of the music of these films, as well as the fallout of David Blum’s infamous “New York” magazine article that coined the phrase “brat pack.” There’s also extensive interviews with cast members, fellow writers/directors, studio executives, and others who were part of the creative process that brought these films to the screen. Even if you dislike some or all of the films, Gora’s book is a terrific analysis of an era of American film that’s too often dismissed.
Being surrounded by macadamia nuts this week reminded me of this droll scene from “Best in Show.” With Christopher Guest as one of my all-time favorite characters, Harlan Pepper.
I’ve always had a strong stomach when it comes to “controversial” material from comedians. But Stanhope is literally the only one that has made me shake my head repeatedly saying “My God, that’s so WRONG!” … Of course, while laughing harder than I’ve ever laughed in my life.
The great thing about Stanhope isn’t that he says shocking things … but that he says them so casually and effortlessly. He’s one of the few comedians who probably has actually lived all of the embarrassing, brain and soul searing things he’s ever talked about.
This is the infamous “Tranvestite Hooker Incident” monologue from the superb (and rightfully titled) “Sicko” album. Hysterically funny and shocking stuff, but definitely not safe for work or little ones. Seriously, even if you think you can handle strong material, this is probably beyond your limits. Hopefully, you’ll be laughing too much to care. Key line: “YOU stood in line to … And where’s my $7.50?!?” Ah… if you dare to listen, you’ll understand. Don’t say I didn’t warn ya …
“Pecker” is arguably John Waters’ last good film. I hate to say this, because I personally like Waters as a raconteur and essayist. Even for his movies that I didn’t particularly like (“Cecil B. Demented” and “A Dirty Shame”), the audio commentaries on the DVDs are a riot and are worth the price of the DVDs alone.
Having said that, “Pecker” is Waters’ very funny and appealing utopian vision of an unusually cool, but diverse underground … a mix of high-brow and low-brow, blue-collar and hipster, gay and straight, criminal and non-criminal, etc. I’ve never really liked Edward Furlong as an actor, but he’s really great as the title character, an “outsider” artist and photographer who sees beauty and art in (mostly blue collar) things many people dismiss or laugh at “ironically.” His navigation from obscurity to fame to fame on his terms may be unrealistic, but it is inspiring and very sweet.
Despite my sentiments about what a sweet film this is, there is full frontal nudity and a lot of rude jokes / language scattered throughout “Pecker” so if you’re prudish, it’s best to stay away. However, “Pecker” is a very fun movie and it gives one hope that someday, artistic and social barriers can come down and all the cool people can finally come together, hang out, and well, be cool with what each person decides makes them happy.
For better or worse, “Pecker” is the pop cultural artifact that introduced “teabagging” to a wide audience.
This is a shorter version of the 70+ minute monologue Henry Rollins delivered on seeing KISS for the first time towards the end of the 1990s. This is very funny stuff, but if you like what you hear, be sure to check out the full 70+ minute version on Rollins’ “Talk is Cheap Vol. 2” 2-CD set. I think the delivery of this tale is better on the longer version, but this is still a lot of fun.
Being a cultural phenomenon can be a good thing for the initial success of any film. Some of these iconic films not only maintain their popularity throughout the years, but their status as classics only strengthens. Examples of this phenomenon: “Casablanca,” “The Godfather,” “Star Wars,” and “Pulp Fiction.”
However, some films are so of their time, that they don’t hold up as well and are often dismissed in later years as flukes. “Saturday Night Fever” is probably the best example of a film that was phenomenally successful (with both audiences and critics) during its initial release, but which subsequently became a pop culture joke due to the fading popularity of disco. While the reputation of “Fever” has improved slightly over the years (most noticeably after lead actor John Travolta became hip again from his role in “Pulp Fiction”), most people look at it as a campy reminder of the 1970s at their tackiest. Yes, there are a lot of scenes that seem unintentionally funny these days (Travolta’s character Tony primping in front of the mirror). Yes, those 1970s fashions are painfully ugly. And yes, the film has a wall-to-wall disco soundtrack, so if you despise disco, this film will likely be pure torture to watch. But while I would never call “Fever” a great film, it’s a damn good one.
While most people remember the dancing, the music, and the bad fashions, most people don’t ever talk about how dark “Fever” actually is. “Fever” is an extremely gritty and grim 1970s NYC urban masterpiece that belongs in that celebrated genre of films that also includes “Mean Streets,” “Taxi Driver,” “Serpico,” “Dog Day Afternoon,” “The Warriors,” and “Death Wish.” The language is pretty crude and by today’s standards, very politically incorrect. Many of the male characters in the film are fairly misogynistic. There’s also the extremely dark fact that Tony not only attempts to rape his dance companion at one point, but that he doesn’t stop the gang rape of a young woman who is in love with him when it’s happening in the backseat of the car he’s driving. (He thoughtfully calls her the c-word after it’s over and she’s crying hysterically). I’m not criticizing the film for any of this, by the way. These ugly scenes not only illustrate how complex “Fever” actually is, but that there’s no way the film would ever be released, let alone shot, as scripted if made these days. Nowadays, Tony would have to have a “redemptive arc” of some kind or be punished in some way for what he does or doesn’t do. The ugly scenes in “Fever” are so powerful, it makes me a little pissed that the film isn’t better than it actually is. But what’s there isn’t bad at all. When I watched it again recently, the film that it most reminded me of is Martin Scorsese’s “Mean Streets.”
The scene I’ve included here is not from any of the famed dance sequences, but the scene where Tony and his friends enact revenge on a gang they believe hurt their friend. It’s a pretty well-staged and intense fight scene.
The unsung hero of “Fever” is the screenwriter Norman Wexler. In addition to “Fever,” Wexler was the author of many gritty 1970s films including “Joe” and “Serpico” (both films yielded him Oscar nominations). However, the secret to Wexler’s genius was revealed in Bob Zmuda’s book about Andy Kaufman “Andy Kaufman Revealed!” Before Zmuda became Kaufman’s partner-in-crime, he worked for Wexler as his assistant. However, Zmuda called Wexler “Mr. X” in the book because Wexler was still alive when the book was written… and Zmuda still lived in grave fear of Wexler. (He confirmed “Mr. X” was Wexler long after Wexler passed away). Zmuda’s accounts of “Mr. X” are some of the funniest and most dangerous tales of urban performance art you’ll ever read. “Mr. X” later inspired Kaufman’s brand of confrontational performance art, but compared to “Mr. X,” Kaufman comes off as cuddly as Wayne Brady.
From the 1990 album “The Last Temptation of Reid” comes the Dead Kennedys’ Jello Biafra and Ministry’s Al Jourgensen project from hell, Lard. This track is called “Can God Fill Teeth?” Alternately funny … and annoying … but in a good way. I always liked this song, even though most of it sounds like a cat being stretched in two. Lard was thoughtful enough to also include a cover of “They’re Coming to Take Me Away, Ha – Haa!” on the same album, but “Teeth” makes that one sound like the Carpenters.
“The Decline of Western Civilization II: The Metal Years” is Penelope Spheeris’s follow-up to her groundbreaking documentary on hardcore punk from 1980 (“The Decline of Western Civilization”). “Decline II” chronicles heavy metal, circa 1988 in Los Angeles, predominately glam metal, which was the rage at the time.
“Decline II” is often cited for being extremely funny because many of the participants seem absolutely delusional about their prospects at future success in music … and in life. There are interviews with stars (Ozzy Osbourne, Steve Tyler, Joe Perry, Poison, Dave Mustaine, Lemmy, Alice Cooper, Gene Simmons, Paul Stanley, Chris Holmes) and interviews with up and comers, most of which you’ve never seen nor heard from since this film came out.
However, the most compelling part of the film is arguably the interview with Chris Holmes of W.A.S.P. Lying in a pool chair, literally pouring vodka down his throat, explaining he’s a piece of s–t, while is mother is sitting next to him, trying to put on a good face, but looking like she wants to cry. One of the saddest and most disturbing scenes from a documentary ever.
Despite this, the humor outweighs the pathos. One of the best scenes in the film comes near the end where legendary club owner Bill Gazzarri hosts his annual “Miss Gazzarri Dancer” contest and Gazzarri tries to get everyone excited about a band called Odin, which he claims are going to be the next big thing. Needless to say, they fell far short of this goal. I’ll let you be the judge as to whether the public was ignorant in their mass rejection of Odin through this clip:
Spheeris later hit the box-office jackpot as the director of “Wayne’s World” in 1992, a job she got in no small part due to her success with “Decline II.”