Despite the fact that Jonathan Demme’s “Melvin and Howard” won two Oscars in 1981 (for Bo Goldman’s screenplay and Mary Steenburgen’s supporting acting turn), the film is one of the best forgotten films of the last 40 years. The film is based on the true story about a ne’er-do-well named Melvin Dummar (Paul Le Mat’s best performance) who allegedly gave a ride to a hitchhiker … billionaire Howard Hughes … and how Hughes left a $156 million fortune to Melvin upon Hughes’s demise. The film chronicles the ups … but mostly downs … of Melvin as he stumbles along, bouncing from job to job and making bad choice after bad choice in his quest for happiness and success. The Hughes inheritance seems to be the one break Melvin has been working towards his entire life … until that’s taken away from him too.
Many of the events of this film seem unbearably sad, except that “Melvin and Howard” … like Melvin … always keeps its chin up. Even though Melvin’s actions oftentimes seems tragically foolish, it’s his optimism … even in the midst of a crushing reality … that makes the film eminently watchable and a true joy.
The attached scene is arguably the best scene in the film, despite the badly synced audio. Melvin’s wife Lynda, played by Steenburgen, has just won a lot of money on a TV game show … money that she hopes will lead to a normal life. Except that Melvin blows the money on a flashy new car and boat. It’s this moment where Lynda leaves him and there’s a very touching piece of dialogue between the two:
Lynda Dummar: C’est la vie.
Melvin Dummar: What’s that?
Lynda Dummar: French, Melvin. I used to dream of becoming a French interpreter.
Melvin Dummar: You don’t speak French.
Lynda Dummar: I told you it was only a dream.
One of the funniest and saddest bits of dialogue ever in an American film. A great, great movie. One of Demme’s best.
During my review of the documentary “The Rep,” I mentioned that some of my favorite moviegoing memories from my youth and young adulthood took place at the Naro Expanded Cinema, a repertory theater in Norfolk, VA. I thought I would recount a few of them here:
1. “2001: A Space Odyssey” (1968) dir. Stanley Kubrick
The very first film I saw at the Naro. After having been to the Naro several times, my Mom took my brother and me to see this revival of “2001” in a 70mm 6-track stereo print during the summer of 1981. At the time, I was weaned on “Star Wars,” so I wasn’t as impressed with “2001” as I would become in later years. But I still remember being impressed with the realism Kubrick conveyed in this vision of space travel. Fortunately, I got to see it several years later in another 70mm revival in Washington D.C. when I was more ready for it and was … finally … bowled over.
2. “North by Northwest” (1959) dir. Alfred Hitchcock
Another one my Mom dragged me to because she thought it would be good for me. Initially, being 12-years old or so, I groaned over seeing an “older” unrated film that would have no profanity, nudity or graphic violence. These reservations were instantly dispelled once I realized how much fun this movie was … one that combined action, suspense, comedy, and … yes … sex in a brilliantly sophisticated package. To this day, Eva Marie Saint’s character is still one of the smartiest, sexiest, most complex action heroines of all time. And Cary Grant … as Robert Evans once said, Grant had more grace walking backwards than everyone else had walking forwards.
3. “Raiders of the Lost Ark” (1981) dir. Steven Spielberg
I had already seen this multiple times before seeing it at the Naro on a double-bill with “Poltergeist” during the summer of 1983. But … what I remember the most is the glorious stereo soundtrack that the Naro properly showcased. When Indy cracked his whip in the streets of Cairo, I heard the sound of the whip start behind my head, carry through the speakers surrounding the sides, and then exploding upfront. The single most impressive display of filmic sound design I’ve ever experienced. Thanks, Naro!
4. “The Rocky Horror Picture Show” (1975) dir. Jim Sharman
The Naro was THE best place to see “Rocky Horror” because back when I first saw it around 1985 or so, the theater owners allowed the audience to go absolutely bats–t crazy. The only rule was that you couldn’t throw anything at the screen. Otherwise, anything went. I’ve since heard things have changed, but that’s OK. Seriously, you don’t want to trash such a wonderful place to see a movie … but it was really really fun. Especially on Halloween.
5. “Stop Making Sense” (1984) dir. Jonathan Demme
This classic concert film featuring the Talking Heads was nice to see on a huge screen with a booming, bass heavy sound. What was especially cool was the fact that so many people in the audience were taken with the music that they started dancing in front of the screen … which prompted the film to stop until people sat down. This happened at least 8-9 times before the film could finally end.
6. “Suburbia” (1983) dir. Penelope Spheeris
One of the best moviegoing memories from my youth was seeing Penelope Spheeris’s punk melodrama “Suburbia’ in a packed midnight screening at the Naro in 1985 (with an audience full of mohawks and trenchcoats) with a good friend of mine and my friend’s Dad, who attended the screening with us since me and my friend were not legally able to drive. The audience went completely nuts at the beginning of the film, when the wild dog attacks a toddler (one of the worst mannequin substitutes I’ve ever seen in any idiom), which isn’t funny, but kind of is in the context of the film and the audience. My friend’s Dad (who, at the time, was roughly about my age now) took the film in stride, enjoyed himself, and later compared the film to “Rebel Without a Cause” on the ride home, which he highly recommended to us. While I later saw “Rebel” and thought it a much superior film, I have a really soft spot in my heart for “Suburbia.”
7. “Blue Velvet” (1986) dir. David Lynch
I was fortunate enough to see “Blue Velvet” on its original theatrical run when I was one of three paying customers in the audience. I’m so grateful for this particular experience, because I was able to accept Lynch’s vision the way it was originally intended … an unironic (but not unfunny), highly disturbing nightmare. When I saw it at the Naro a few months later, the place was packed. Unfortunately, it was packed with hipsters already predisposed to laugh at everything. While I remember having a great time that night when I saw it in a packed theater, in retrospect, I also remember being a little pissed that they were treating it all as a big joke. Again, the film is not unfunny … but it’s not a smug post-modern jokefest. That night I learned that there’s a danger in thinking you’re smarter than the material you’re watching … especially before you’ve actually seen it.
8. “Husbands and Wives” (1992) dir. Woody Allen
I remember seeing this at the Naro in early 1993 during a particularly dark period in my life as the second half of a double-bill with another film I don’t remember. I distinctly remember the Allen film hitting me right between the eyes. Yes, I remember laughing a lot, but I also remember being completely shattered at the end of it. One of the most brutally cynical views of marriage and relationships ever created. It’s no wonder this was filmed and edited during the height of Allen’s and Mia Farrow’s relationship “issues.” I think I skipped the invitation to have a beer after the film that night.
9. “Pink Flamingoes” (1972) dir. John Waters
The very last film I saw at the Naro … and I saw this during the film’s 25th anniversary revival in 1997. I had seen the film more than a few times on video before and while I thought it was funny, I thought other Waters films (specifically, “Female Trouble” and “Polyester”) were much better. However, seeing “Pink Flamingoes” in a theater brought a new dimension that I had never considered before … collective embarrassment. Seeing this film with a paying audience on a huge screen made a lot of “Flamingo’s” notorious scenes seem way dirtier … and funnier. One of the few times I remember actually convulsing in embarrassed laughter during a theater screening … while turning several shades of red. Seriously, that s–t hurt! But it was a lot of fun!
Back before you could find virtually any movie on cable TV, VHS, DVD, Blu-Ray, Netflix, etc., you had to rely on a local repertory movie theater to see movies that fell outside the mainstream. These films were not only the edgy independent ones, but also foreign and classic films that hadn’t been shown in theaters for years. The local repertory theater where I grew up … the Naro Expanded Cinema in Norfolk, VA … showed a terrific mix of all these genres and some of the best moviegoing memories of my youth and young adulthood took place at the Naro.
The Naro is still open, but is in the midst of desperately trying to raise funds to buy a digital projector before the end of the calendar year. The reason is because after December 31 this year, most Hollywood studios will no longer be supplying theaters with 35mm film prints, the primary means of projecting films for several decades. The big first-run chains (Regal, Cinemark, AMC, etc.) aren’t worried since most are already showing digital prints exclusively (and their conversion was subsidized by the studios) . But the smaller, independent theaters are the ones that are hurting the most. It’s like one final kick to the teeth to what has been a filmgoing tradition for several years. Strangely, I live in a town that’s 1/10 the size of the Tidewater, Virginia metro area and our local repertory house already finished their digital projector campaign … but I digress …
I thought a lot about the Naro while watching “The Rep,” a terrific documentary about the current struggle repertory theaters face, specifically one in Toronto, Ontario called “Toronto Underground Cinema” that started in 2010 and the owners’ oftentimes desperate efforts to keep their theater afloat. Granted, the notion of starting a business like this in a modern era … where most people (including myself) are now comfortably watching movies on large-screen televisions in HD … seems foolhardy at best. But as a film-lover, I can’t help but feel my heart break when these cinephiles put their hearts and souls into programming great movies for people to watch … only to have 5 or less people show up for a screening. It becomes apparent that the owners are not the best businessmen, but damn if their hearts aren’t in the right place. In addition to showing the struggles of the Toronto Underground Cinema, “The Rep” interviews other theater owners and filmmakers (Kevin Smith, John Water, Atom Egoyan) about their own experiences with repertory cinema.
Look, if you really care about moviegoing … and there’s a local repertory theater in your town … do the right thing and check out a movie there every now and then …. even if you can instantly watch it on Xfinity or iTunes right now. If that repertory theater shows second-run Hollywood films on occasion to pay its nut and support edgier fare at other times, wait to see that blockbuster you would otherwise see at the multiplex and pay to see it at the rep. Because the people that run those places care about movies … far more than the dips–ts working at the multiplex … and are probably are working there for free mainly because they see a value in preserving the filmgoing experience many of us grew up on.
Of course, the crowning irony of this tirade is that I had to watch “The Rep” through a download from Amazon. Regardless … this is a movie worth checking out however you see it … and hopefully it will inspire you to check out a repertory theater near you.
Nowadays, most people know Bob Forrest as the counselor with the hat on numerous Dr. Drew Pinsky reality series (“Celebrity Rehab”). However, lesser known these days is that Forrest was also the leader of Thelonious Monster, one of the most highly-regarded alternative LA bands of the 1980s / 1990s. Along with the Red Hot Chili Peppers, Jane’s Addiction, and Fishbone, Thelonious Monster was part of a vibrant and exciting Los Angeles music scene that didn’t involve hairspray and makeup.
Forrest and his band had several shots at the brass ring, including record deals with RCA and Capitol Records, but never broke through the way the Chili Peppers and Jane’s Addiction did, mainly due to Forrest’s excessive substance abuse. Forrest’s low points were extremely low, including washing a syringe in dish soap that an HIV-positive drug shooting buddy had just used because he did not have one at the time. Even Dr. Drew, who knew Forrest as a frequent guest on his nationally syndicated KROQ-FM talk show “Loveline” assumed Forrest was dead at one point.
But Forrest did manage to clean up. And after several humble years working as a dishwasher, started work in drug counseling, where he has had tremendous success helping addicts stay sober.
Forrest’s story is told in an excellent documentary called “Bob and the Monster.” The movie has been on the festival circuit since 2011, but is now reaching video with an added coda discussing events since 2011. “Monster” is not just a terrific time capsule of a great era in recent music history, but a compelling story about how anyone, no matter how low they’ve sunk, can turn their life around and make a tremendous difference in the lives of others. Featuring interviews with Anthony Kiedis, Flea, Courtney Love, Gibby Haynes, Keith Morris, and Steven Adler among many others.
Also highly recommended is Forrest’s autobiography “Running with Monsters” which has just been released as well.
The very moving final scene of David Lynch’s “Twin Peaks: Fire Walk With Me” with Sheryl Lee and Kyle Maclachlan. The film itself is very uneven, but this ending always puts a lump in my throat. This is among the five best scenes in any Lynch film.
One of the first major studio films to deal with the Vietnam War after the war was over, “The Boys in Company C” was released near the beginning of 1978. The film got mixed reviews at the time and whatever notice it got was overshadowed by the double punch of Michael Cimino’s “The Deer Hunter” (released at the end of 1978) and Francis Ford Coppola’s “Apocalypse Now” (released in the summer of 1979).
It’s a real shame that “The Boys in Company C” has been shuttled to the sidelines over the years, because it’s a really good movie. Admittedly, it’s uneven at times (at one point, it shifts from a war movie into a sports movie). But the film is extremely ambitious, attempting to tackle several important subjects (combat, drugs, racism). And the film boasts several terrific performances, specifically by Stan Shaw, Andrew Stevens, Craig Wasson, Michael Lembeck, James Canning, R. Lee Ermey, James Whitmore Jr., Noble Willingham, and Scott Hylands.
This was R. Lee Ermey’s first acting role and it’s very reminiscent of his role in Stanley Kubrick’s “Full Metal Jacket,” which many people mistakenly believe is his debut. Ermey plays the same hard-ass drill instructor we all know and love (and — gulp! — are deathly afraid of), but in “Boys in Company C,” there’s also a humanity that’s missing from his performance in Kubrick’s film. The scene above is a compilation of Ermey’s entire performance, but the part you really need to watch is the scene that starts 3:10 into the clip. This is Ermey and Shaw having an intense discussion about boot camp, Shaw’s struggles with being company leader, and Ermey’s explanation of what he needs Shaw to do. It’s a powerful scene, wonderfully acted by Ermey and Shaw. Please note that because it IS Ermey playing a drill sergeant, the language is beyond rough and extremely politically incorrect.
And not to slight Shaw. Most people remember Shaw as the doomed Toomer from “The Great Santini,” but his performance as Washington is outstanding, and in a film that’s basically an ensemble piece, Shaw is the lead of the film. Had this film come out a few years later, Shaw arguably may have had the career Denzel Washington had. His performance in “Boys in Company C” demonstrates he has the talent and charisma to have gone all the way.
Another terrific Aimee Mann cover … this time of Harry Nilsson’s “One” which Three Dog Night turned into a big hit during the early 1970s. Mann’s version was brilliantly used over the opening of P.T. Anderson’s 1999 masterpiece “Magnolia.” I like this version WAAAAY better than Three Dog Night’s cover, which is the best known version.
Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to violence, the word and the act. While violence cloaks itself in a plethora of disguises, its favorite mantle still remains… sex. Violence devours all it touches, its voracious appetite rarely fulfilled. Yet violence doesn’t only destroy, it creates and molds as well. Let’s examine closely then this dangerously evil creation, this new breed encased and contained within the supple skin of woman. The softness is there, the unmistakable smell of female, the surface shiny and silken, the body yielding yet wanton. But a word of caution: handle with care and don’t drop your guard. This rapacious new breed prowls both alone and in packs, operating at any level, any time, anywhere, and with anybody. Who are they? One might be your secretary, your doctor’s receptionist… or a dancer in a go-go club!
OK, I did not write those words. They come from the infamous opening to the film director John Waters once called the greatest film ever made. Russ Meyer’s “Faster, Pussycat! Kill! Kill!” film is one of the most wonderfully sleazy movies ever made … and it’s also one of the most fun to watch. It’s one of those films that seems really, really dirty even though it probably would get rated PG-13 if released today (it was rated TV-14 when it popped up on Turner Classic Movies). It would make a great double-feature with “Road House.” There’s no nudity here, but the above clip not safe for work as this is from a less politically correct time. Go baby go! Go! Go! GO BABY GO! Work it out!
Dave's Strange World 