Welcome to our first Aftertaste of the new year. To usher in 2016, I decided to throw Jason a bone by doing a retrospective on what he has called on the air one of his favorite movies of all time. Needless to say, Jason is very excited to not talk Star Wars anymore, and in turn talk about something he actually cares about.
But hold on, Bingers. There’s more. To spice up this retrospective, I brought in my old friend and Binge voicemail favorite Nate Peterson to offer his own opinions on the entire series. Is he as high on Back to the Future as Jason? Why am I so cynical when it comes to the series? What can we expect to see from this experience of watching the movies that we haven’t seen before? Is Nate going to get so heated throughout this retrospective it will be the lawst time he appears on the Binge airwaves?
While I expected to talk about the first two films of the series in this one podcast, we were such blabbermouths that we were only able to get through the first movie. We touch on many things in this observation of 1985’s sentimental hit.
Things such as:
How creepy is Doc and Marty’s relationship, and could it resonate today as it did then?
How hot is Lea Thompson?
How bad is Lea Thompson’s old age make-up?
How triumphant is George’s moment of glory?
What would the owner of that 50s diner think of Obama being our president?
Who the hell sleeps like THAT?!
What would Eric Stoltz have done with the character of Marty McFly?
Who the hell is Eric Stoltz?
All this and more lie ahead in this, our first retrospective of the year. So click that download button and wait for all our Back to the Future knowledge hit your ear holes at 1.21 gigawatts. Or, something like that.
One of the best things about being a die hard movie fan is each and every person has that one film which sets off certain emotions that others cannot reach, and people are left wondering why that film means so much to them. A particular point of contention when it comes to this development of emotions is the art of a good Christmas movie. Everyone has their own Christmas movie which they watch this time of year. Oh sure, there will be some that you watch when they’re on TV. For example, I will watch Elf every time I see it’s on. Because…it’s Elf. But there’s always that ONE Christmas film you HAVE to watch every holiday season, no matter the circumstances. For some, it’s A Christmas Story. For others, it’s Die Hard. For traditionalists, there’s It’s A Wonderful Life. For me, it’s Gremlins.
In recent years, there have been some random rumblings that this treasure of mine, this holiday movie I hold so near and dear to my heart, is going to get remade into a modern day extravaganza, presumably with CGI creatures replacing the practical models which were such nightmares for effects master Chris Walas (The Fly) over thirty years ago. Of course, news like this should not, and hardly ever does, bother me. Hell, just in recent years, 80s horror has caught its fair share of remake viruses. Everything from A Nightmare on Elm Street to Fright Night is now a slicked up piece of studio paraphernalia disguised as attempts ‘to reach a wider and broader audience.’ Even Steven Spielberg’s earlier films have been reduxed, as Sam Raimi attempted production on a Poltergeist remake which, as the knight in Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade so elegantly put it, was chosen, poorly.
So what is it about Gremlins that makes it seem invulnerable to studios desperate for a nostalgic hit to catch a dwindling by the technological minute audience’s attention? Well, I am going to give a few things, let’s call them factors, which make this film seem more like an unreality as opposed to a reality.
Let’s start with the obvious one:
5) The Spielberg Factor
I bring this upcoming fact up almost as much as I bring up Star Wars. But I will say it again. In 1984, there was not an internet at each cinephiles’ disposal. However, given this fact, even back then, it was hard to not know that Steven Spielberg’s name was plastered all over Gremlins‘ ad campaign. It was such an odd occurrence in those days that a producer’s name was ever mentioned in advertisements. But when the man who makes E.T. attaches his name to ANYTHING, it’s going to get noticed. Let alone a movie with a sweet little furball as a main component and a huge attraction in all the trailers. But would he KEEP it that cute? We’ll get there. My point for the time being is, what movie producer, in the prime of his career, can attach his name to a remake of this film and make people come out in droves? I would venture to guess no one, but feel free to call me out on it. Also, let’s not forget this was the first film from Spielberg’s brand new venture, a little studio he owned and was calling Amblin Entertainment. Gremlins was a huge risk, and I’d say only Spielberg and his offbeat director Joe Dante could have pulled it off.
4) The Pheobe Cates Factor
When Gremlins was released in 1984, Pheobe Cates was on the cusp of breaking out as the next big thing. In fact, the movie she was in just a few years before this one was a little film called Fast Times At Ridgemont High. And, despite how funny and well written it was, anyone who has seen that hilarious film will remember what the two most memorable things in it were. So being given a role in the next Steven Spielberg production had to be a huge coup de gras for her, and a chance to propel her to bigger and better things. Too bad one particular scene, which I will get to later, put a damper on those chances. But the point here is that Cates was a love interest in perhaps the most loveless onscreen couple I, to this day, have ever seen. Yet I’d be damned if her charm carried it. Not a tremendous actress by any means. But Cates was a presence to be sure, and one I wish had stuck around past Gremlins 2.
3) The Danger Factor
Well, you knew I was going to get to it eventually. It is no secret that 1984 was a banner year for film, if only because of what Spielberg’s output caused. Earlier in the year, Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom, complete with a PG rating, was released to a mainstream audience. Yet audiences were not expecting hearts being ripped from chests and caged people who were eventually charred in lava to be a part of the agenda. If that wasn’t enough, Gremlins once again pushed the decency envelope to new heights. There are some downright frightening moments in Gremlins. In fact, its whole middle section is an almost outright horror film. With the egg hatching an obvious homage to Ridley Scott’s Alien, and the mom, all alone in the house, getting stalked by four creatures and eventually roasting one in a microwave, it pushed boundaries not seen before in a movie geared toward kids. Just seeing the sweet Peltzer mom wielding that knife like Michael Myers is violent enough for me to turn Gremlins off if I’m showing this to a five year old. Don’t forget. There were plush toys, shampoo bottles, sleeping bags, you name it with Gizmo’s face plastered all over them. Succumbing to their kids’ pleas to see Gremlins was looked at as an almost dangerous proposition for parents, because their E.T. loving kids were now being exposed to a horror film. Indy 2 and Gremlins are the main factors that caused Spielberg himself to suggest to the ratings board that a new rating between PG and R be made. As a result, we have PG-13. In essence, Gremlins changed film forever. All the film’s poster showed was a box with a mysterious furry creature inside. But with Spielberg’s name attached, it was going to be cute, right? The man who brought us a plush alien who wanted to go home and made friends with a boy on Earth just two years prior, was now producing a movie that began as an almost sequel to E.T., and eventually developed into a frightening horror film with the darkest elements of satire. In fact…….
2) The Dark Satirical Edge Factor
Watching Gremlins today, I would say that it is without a doubt one of the most brilliant satires to ever be produced. Its darkness is at times beneath the surface, and others worn outwardly on its sleeve. For example, there is one particular scene with cardboard cutout/hero Billy walking Kate to her house. It’s snowing. Talk of Christmas is taking place, and Kate, with snow falling around her face in a beautiful image of beauty, is triggered. She verbally explodes at Billy, exclaiming, “while some people are opening their presents, others are opening their wrists.” Of course, as a child, I never picked up on it. But THAT, my friends, is a satirical line etched in blackness. It is cold, yet sharp edged humor at its finest.
I can’t go much further without discussing ‘the scene’ we all think about when thinking about Gremlins. That’s right, you know the one I’m talking about. The one with Kate telling Billy (and Gizmo) why she no longer likes Christmas. It is a bout of contention in inner circles of film fans that is almost as contentious as the Han Shot First debate. Some people claim it is supposed to be an endearing moment. Others (including Joe Dante himself on the film’s commentary) claim it to be in the vain of the blackest of comedy. I watch that scene today, and I don’t see Cates thinking what she’s saying is funny. She seems to be trying to win an Academy Award, while at the same time telling kids in the audience who dragged their parents to this ‘family film’ that there is no Santa Clause.
Spielberg himself famously hated the scene. He went to Dante and told him so. Dante pleaded his case, and Spielberg made an offer. If Dante made Gizmo the film’s hero -as opposed to the plan of Billy- Dante could keep his scene. See, people don’t realize how much of a collaboration the art of filmmaking really is. Spielberg, being the main money man, could have insisted on cutting the scene, no ifs, ands, or buts. However, seeing his director wanting the scene so bad to stay, he made a compromise. All that being said, I wonder just how smart keeping the scene was, as it gets funnier and funnier each time I see it delivered. Maybe that was Dante’s genius. Maybe that’s exactly what he meant to happen. However, this victory for Dante ended up being catastrophic for his actress, as I wholeheartedly believe this one scene, this one set of lines, is to blame for making Cates’ at the time flourishing film career hit a dam and never recover.
1) The Christmas Setting Factor
Christmas is supposed to be the most wonderful time of year, correct? The genius of Gremlins is how it takes It’s A Wonderful Life, and turns it completely on its head. Towns like Kingston Falls (anyone have any idea where this is, by the way?) are towns we have all been to. People turn up in the beginning of the film only to get terrorized later. The Wizard of Oz/Witch type entrance of Mrs Deagle, setting her up as a generally greedy and horrible human being (ie villain), is ended when the Gremlins disable her chair and she goes flying out the window. Let’s also not forget how Gizmo was purchased. It wasn’t in a slicked up magic filled shop. It was in a seedy part of town by an inventor who was trying his best to not come off as the dead beat father he really is. And by the way, if you need any more indication of just how wickedly satirical Gremlins really is, take a look at the progression of Deagle’s death(?) scene. She hears noises outside her porch, and we hear her say to herself how much she hates Christmas Carolers. She opens the door with all intentions of dousing the kids with water, only to see those slimy little bastards singing, you guessed it, Christmas Carols. And let’s not forget the irony of them getting blown up in a theater showing Snow White and the Seven Dwarves – a Disney film also etched in darkness. Gremlins is the result of beautifully handled satirical strokes, as it takes horrible montrosities and has them experience family and holiday traditions.
As a stand alone film, Gremlins is almost perfection personified. Its lack of a charismatic lead actor (there’s a reason Zach Galligan also didn’t do much afterward) works in its advantage. Reason being Spielberg and company knew people weren’t coming to see Billy. In fact, the original script (written by none other than a very young Chris Columbus) had Gizmo turning into Stripe, and the one who put the stops to that was Spielberg himself. He knew there was a sensibility within audiences at the time to see the little guy be the hero of the story and last until the end. Did he see merchandising dollar signs? Perhaps. But that one decision is what made the movie bearable for those who came and saw something they were not expecting. The first half hour or so of the film is typical Spielberg at its best. Small town. Likable people. Otherworldly creature that captures our hearts. And then, like a magician, the rug is pulled out, and the Gremlins are unleashed.
This is why I feel the film needs to be left alone. The synergy that came with Gremlins will never happen again. Thing is, before seeing Poltergeist, I would have almost said go ahead. After all, maybe CGI could benefit the movie’s higher reaching terrifying arcs. But Poltergeist‘s remake from earlier this year firmly cemented my final feelings on the matter. It was a pathetic attempt to rework something that is not only sacred, but also a part of its time. The ‘danger’ that came from the original 1982 film’s scene of a man’s face coming apart was turned by the remake into unintentional comedy. All things I have outlined above keep me from wanting Gremlins to once again make its way to our slicked up cinemas. What would be their approach? Seeing where the creatures come from? Helping explain the rules, which as ridiculous as they are, have almost zero bearing on the film’s overall impact?
Update: On November 9th, four days after I initially wrote this article, Daniel Fleetwood succumbed to his disease and left us. I would like to personally express my condolences to him and his family, as the journey they all took to what this article is about touched me on a major emotional level.
The day I joined Binge Media, I found myself getting a little nervous. Reason being with the exception of Johnny Moreno and Jim Law, I had not really spoken to any of the site’s staff and only heard them on air. Or, in the case of Nick Spears, just read his words. However, one thing I was extra nervous about was how I was going to interact with the head of Binge Sports himself, Luke Norris. I was not really a sports fan anymore, and the last thing I wanted was to be seen as an introvert who does not like talking to his peers. However, on one rainy November night, I read this article from Norris, and knew that no matter what, I was on pretty much the same exact wavelength. In case you’re too lazy to click the link, the article tells the inspiring story of Lauren Hill. No, not the singer. Ms Hill was a Mount Saint Joseph college student who had the dream of playing college basketball. Except, there was one problem. Hill was diagnosed with Diffuse Intrinsic Pontine Glioma (DIPG), a deadly form of brain cancer. Told she would not see the year 2015, Hill indeed played for her school, and was even given a coaching role on the sidelines before her death on April 10th of this year.
This story not only tugged at my heart strings. It also made college basketball into something so much more. Norris’s articles detailing Hill’s amazing journey were informative and detailed, painting the picture of a sport I had admittedly very little knowledge in to begin with. I knew from that instance I had absolutely nothing to worry about when it came to my interactions with Mr Norris, and we have co-hosted several podcasts together since.
I bring this story up because I was someone on the outside who really did not know the power of college basketball to touch and move people until Hill’s story. And now, I have been seeing and feeling experiences very similar related to something I know and love, which is Star Wars. Specifically, the story of Daniel Fleetwood. Fleetwood is a 32 year old Texas native who was informed in 2012 that he had been diagnosed with spindle cell sarcoma, which is a very rare form of connective tissue cancer. In July, doctors informed Fleetwood that he had just two months to live. Though the disease has been intensely progressive, Daniel’s trying his best to enjoy life, making a bucket list of things to do before he passes. One is most important, however. Since it is highly doubtful he will make the December 18th release date, Fleetwood asked to see the highly anticipated new Star Wars film The Force Awakens early. In videos, he and his wife Ashley pleaded that even if it was in a supervised state, he would do/sign anything to make this dream happen.
Soon, stars like Mark Hamill, John Boyega, Peter Mayhew, and Daisy Ridley were retweeting the Force For Daniel campaign Ashley had started. The pressure on Walt Disney Studios and director JJ Abrams seemed to mount with each pressing day and hour. With their highly secretive film still not done with the final edit phase, Disney and Abrams did indeed grant Daniel his dying wish. On Thursday November 5th, one day after a personal phone call from Abrams himself, Fleetwood had his own private screening of an unedited version of the film in his very own home.
It is a story that tugs at my heart for a few reasons. One, the outcry of support from actors and fans associated with the film had this almost invisible energy (Force?) behind it that is rarely seen. So often, the internet and social media are used as hurtful tools to put down and destroy. Here, a difference was made and if Daniel dies tomorrow, he can very well say he died knowing that his story touched so many others.
But also, and this is an ultra important thing. It showed the power of media as a whole. Until the story of Lauren Hill, I never thought twice about college basketball. But doing what she loved made her final days memorable for so much more than lying in a bed with tubes keeping her alive. Her courage to persevere made her seem like the strongest of the strong. Which made her sport a brighter star in an ever darker sky.
Star Wars has been called many things. It is an indulgence which this site is, admittedly, taking every advantage of that we can. But it also, in many ways, kept Daniel from leaving the world too early. It drove him to persevere in much the same way that Hill did in her final days. It also brought out the best in everyone, from Disney, to Lucasfilm, to Abrams himself. Sure, they were sort of brow beaten and made to look like total assholes if they had not granted Daniel his wish. But they had every right not to. Yet, they made sure this fan since the age of 8 years old was able to go out with brand new images of the Force to keep him company.
Major accolades to Daniel, Ashley, and everyone involved in making this happen. Disney has told us for years to wish upon a star. The Fleetwoods wished upon a Star Wars, and by God their wish came true. Daniel, we are smiling upon you, and love that your wish was granted. But…here’s the real question. How was the movie?
Remembering Melissa Mathison
Well, this was a major shock. On November 5th, we lost the woman who was able to literally bring the lit heart of an out of this world being into our own. At the age of 65, E.T. screenwriter Melissa Mathison lost her battle with neuroendocrine cancer. She was credited by Steven Spielberg for making his story as heart felt and humane as it was, and the way she closed the gap of Spielberg’s outlined story was not short on brilliance. She would continue to work, writing and producing films like The Indian in the Cupboard and Kundun. But her later life will probably be most remembered for her divorce from Harrison Ford, reportedly the most costly split ever.
Spielberg has credited Mathison for the immortal line ‘E.T. phone home,’ adding that her heart ‘burned as bright as the heart she gave E.T.’ Maybe this is why since that film, Spielberg never seemed to find the magic which made the heart so easy to tug in 1982. Sure, he’s made some terrific films. But since the synergy of E.T., it has been proven that Mathison’s pen was indeed the wand he needed then, and has been missing since.
I have never faltered in my adulation for the movie E.T. In the 90s, I was starting to fall off the Star Wars bandwagon a bit, proclaiming it to be passe. Yet, E.T’s story never failed to grip me. The fact that the person who gave that little squishy alien its bigger than life heart is no longer with us makes mine dim just a little. Rest in peace.
Ever see a movie and think “This movie was just like that other one because of X, Y and Z”? I feel that way too, and for better or worse almost every movie is a product of what has come before it. I believe that most movies can be explained by comparing them to other films, so I break down the top three films that I believe contain the crucial elements that make up the film in question. This week’s entry is The Martian.
The Martian was a pretty big critical success, raking in a worldwide total of $319,197,016 so far. The film still has legs and audiences have responded positively to the sci-fi drama. When releasing a film, timing has a lot to do with how it is received, both in terms of the time of year and even the era in which it was released. The Martian has definitely benefited from a gap in quality theatrical releases, and as such is getting a ton of fans saying it’s an original and new type of film. While the film is really solid and possibly one of the year’s best, it definitely wears it’s influences on its sleeve. So how do you make The Martian? The recipe calls for three parts:
Cast Away was a big movie back in 2000 and it still stands as one of the acting pinnacles of Tom Hanks’ career. With director Robert Zemeckis, the story of Chuck Noland’s fight to survive was filled with raw emotion, talent and centered around the main character’s intelligence and will to survive. Sound familiar? The Martian borrowed heavily from Cast Away in terms of writing and acting. Replace the volleyball Wilson with Watney’s video diaries and you start to see the similarities even further. The fact that Scott’s film borrows from Zemeckis’ only cements both stories as solid pieces of entertainment.
Noticing a theme here? By no fault of his own, the indirect influence of Tom Hanks is all over The Martian. Apollo 13, the based-on-a-true story account of the ill-fated NASA mission to the moon is, much like Cast Away, another brilliant piece of acting from Hanks. This time with Ron Howard at the helm, the film does a really great job of conveying the triumph of scientific achievement in the face of overwhelming adversity. Through their communication with NASA and the resourcefulness of the astronauts, the men made it home safe. Despite the fact that Apollo 13 is a true story and that this event actually happened, the sequence of events is eerily similar to Watney’s experience. It’s easy to see that, again, whether it was Mark Waid’s source novel or Drew Goddard’s script, they went with the “if-it-ain’t-broke-don’t-fix-it” approach and reworked this plot for new audiences.
The more perceptive of you could probably see this one coming, but make no mistake; Saving Private Ryan has a critical element of the mix. To quote the goddamn poster, “This time, the mission is a man.” There is no The Martian without a stranded Mark Watney, and as such Matt Damon proves he will always need saving. There’s something about Damon that makes him seem like a survivor, and for whatever reason we buy him in that role. Between this movie, The Martian and Interstellar, Damon is Hollywood’s go-to “man-sel in distress” these days.
So there you have it. The awkward love-child of Cast Away, Apollo 13 and Saving Private Ryan gives you The Martian. We’re not saying that Matt Damon is taking over for Tom Hanks but it kinda seems like Matt Damon is taking over for Tom Hanks. I can’t decide if that’s douche chilly or cool as hell. At this pace I wouldn’t be surprised if Damon’s next is a Bachelor Party/Toy Story/Turner and Hooch animated erotic murder mystery. Fingers crossed.
We’re looking for feedback on this article, so let us know what you think by commenting below. Thanks and Binge On!
Starring: Tom Hanks, Mark Rylance, Michael Gaston, Eve Hewson, Amy Ryan, Peter McRobbie, Austin Stowell, Alan Alda, Billy Magnussen, and Sebastian Koch
It is hard to look at Steven Spielberg’s recent career efforts with anything less than a bit of cynicism. After being a complete innovator of the blockbuster defining mytharc and the king of populist entertainment for going on thirty years, Spielberg’s forays into filmmaking from 2005 on have been inconsistent at best, below average at worst. Yet with films like War Horse and Lincoln, it seems the 68 year old filmmaker seems intent on consistently challenging himself (speaking of which, over the horizon lies his greatest challenge yet in the form of Ready Player One, but that’s for discussion another day.) With Bridge of Spies, Spielberg crafts the answer to yet another form of a challenge: how to make a film in which no less than sixty-five percent takes place in court room settings and rooms with old men yelling at each other, seem like anything but.
The success in which Spielberg is at this lies safely nestled in that bridge of inconsistency he has been crossing this entire decade and a half. There are times in Bridge of Spies, like a shot with Hanks hiding behind a rain drenched car, as well as pretty much all scenes with Hanks in Germany, that are stunningly breathtaking and Spielberg at his most articulate, talented best. Yet in the end, Bridge of Spies amounts to nothing less than a mildly enthralling thriller, and nothing more than Spielberg at his millennial best. Which isn’t necessarily bad. It’s just that Spielberg has seemed intent on proceeding through his late career as less of a renaissance than a coasting method. Still, Spielberg working in this fashion is better than 90% of the filmmakers out there playing the same game.
Bridge of Spies tells of the trial of Russian spy Rudolf Abel (a beyond excellent Rylance) and the inner battle his lawyer James B. Donovan experiences while defending him. Believe it or not, even with the majority of the film taking place in this setting, Spielberg makes each and every minute count. Enthralling conversations and Donovan’s inner turmoil being explored makes for more thrilling screen time than it sounds, and it is a tribute to all involved that Bridge of Spies is as good as it is.
Don’t get me wrong. There are moments the film moves out of the settings and into the battlefield, with planes dangerously flying over Russian air space. As expected, Spielberg milks each bit of suspense out of these moments of action that he can, and his villains the ‘Commies’ are at the center of it all. Though in watching Bridge of Spies, it’s hard to not wonder if the filmmaker, much like 2005’s War of the Worlds, is trying to draw upon parallelisms. In this case, what went on in a post World War II era America and a post 9/11 America. The populist tendency seems to have all but vanished, and while Bridge of Spies offers plenty of thrills, I found myself missing that Spielberg more and more as the time went by.
Nonetheless, what we get here is nothing to sneeze at, and the film is no doubt helped by a script polish done by none other than Joel & Ethan Coen. Wry humor and nuanced criticism flies during Bridge of Spies‘ second half, and even a hint of of late era Spielberg’s ever drying up cynicism can be heard throughout. Most of the film’s best moments come from a downplaying Rylance, whose discovery is Spielberg’s best coup de gras in quite awhile. Hanks is no less or more than the Hanks we have seen for over two decades now, and it says a lot in the script writing, Hanks’ performance, and Spielberg’s direction that by the end of the film we are more invested in his safety than that of America’s entire committee of intelligence.
Surprisingly, the film’s big faults lie with its efforts to endear us to the families of the main characters at the heart of Bridge of Spies. Ryan is a barely there, very supplemental house wife we would expect from something which takes place in this era. Whether that’s a commentary on how far women have come or how they were perceived is not for me to say. But suffice to say that even TheGreen Mile, a film I find to be grossly overrated, tackled this nuance with more fury than Bridge of Spies seems ever so reluctant to touch upon.
Far be it from me to judge Spielberg on his artistic handling of 50s house wives. Right or wrong moral questions are forever asked by the Hanks character of James Donovan, and that same bit of parallelism can be said of who Spielberg the filmmaker is now. Should Rudolf Abel be punished for what he is, as opposed to who he is and whether he did wrong? Should Spielberg continue to defy what made him by repeatedly testing how tolerant we can be of his late career non resurgence? Fortunately, Bridge of Spies does not force us to think about either for too long, as it is a very good, bordering on great ride through post World War II history. Though I can see the old man with a rake telling the kids to get off his lawn starting to peek through what used to be a hungry filmmaker owning his turf.
Strap yourselves in folks, as the Binge Movie Aftertaste brings you its biggest show yet. Joined this week by special co-host Johnny Moreno, we interview two people who have had hands in two of the most successful films ever made. And as if that wasn’t enough, there are a few Poltergeist and Steven Seagal stories to also tide you over. What more do you want from us?
The very beginning of the show consists of me catching up with Moreno, as he gives details on how his trip to Wizard World Chicago was, complete with stories of meeting up with the great Adam Simon. How does it feel being someone who doesn’t like comic books roaming around a comic book convention? Moreno gives great insight.
We then get into my interview with the great Carl Gottlieb. Now before people jump down my throats, let me say: I KNOW I forgot to ask about the Indianapolis speech. But pretty much everything else is covered in this thirty plus minutes, as Gottlieb gives great insight to what it was like coming up the ranks with the great Steve Martin and Steven Spielberg. The making of Jaws is discussed at length, as Gottlieb makes sure to give me hell about having not read his book Jaws Log (it has since been bought, so thank you for the recommendation sir). But he kindly gives stories about the film that made us all afraid of the water. Stories about the pressure Spielberg was feeling, how big penny pinchers producers Richard Zanuck and David Brown were, Gottlieb coming on set and writing new dialogue on the spot, and much more. He also gives perceptions about his penned screenplays for the underrated Jaws 2 & 3, and Roy Scheider’s on-set grumpiness during the making of 2. You want Jaws stories? Listen to this interview and be sure to pick up Mr Gottlieb’s book Jaws Log. We thank him very much for his time.
But we are not done. Most shows would stop at that. But we deal yet another deck of interviewing awesomeness as Moreno and I get screenwriter Michael Grais on the line. Grais gives highly animated stories about how Poltergeist came to being and the surprising hilarity associated with Craig T Nelson. Lots of insightful views of being around the late Heather O’Rourke and director Tobe Hooper are shared, as well as the making of the also penned by Grais Poltergeist II. As for Poltergeist III and the remake? Well, we bring it up. But, Grais’ remarks about them say it all.
Moreno then jumps in to ask about one of his childhood favorite films Marked For Death. Grais shares some insane yet also insanely believable stories about Steven Seagal (we’ll never look at Black Rain the same again), and of course where Grais came up with the idea for the film. This needs to be heard to be believed. I ask a little about Grais’ also penned script for Cool World, and then we let him go, leaving Moreno and I in awe over what we just heard.
So what are you waiting for? Listen NOW!
And don’t forget to pick up Gottlieb’s book Jaws Log in stores now.
First, an intro. I thought I was stumbling on an incredible idea. After watching this week’s movie and thinking of the idea for this column, I went online and was all set to message the boys saying I had a genius idea. Then, I did a history check on the site, and wouldn’t you know it, they had started this -or something LIKE this- when they initially started the site up. Thanks to them for allowing me to bring it back. Hopefully, I can bring something different to it. But HOW different?
Every week, I will watch a film which I have not seen in a no set standard of time range. It could be a month or it could be twenty years. I will give a bit background on both the movie’s making and my expectations going in. I will also break down how I felt immediately afterward, and my feelings now. Truth be told, this column would cease to be interesting if I did not feel different on my new viewing. We all age, and as we get up there in years, we bring new experiences and new life instances into the films we watch. Sometimes, this makes the movie a different experience than before. This is certainly the case with this week’s film. But, I am sure there will be times when I feel the exact same way as I did on my initial viewing.
Now, enough of my talking. Let’s get to it, shall we?
Background: A.I. is a film that was more than thirty years in the making. As much of a ‘schmaltzy’ director that Steven Spielberg is, he sure likes to surround himself with interestingly off beat personalities. Firework but talented John Milius is a known friend of his -as well as a script doctor to more than one of his most famous projects- as was reclusive filmmaker Stanley Kubrick. Kubrick first began trying to adapt Brian Aldiss’ 1969 short story “Super-Toys Last All Summer Long” into A.I. as far back as the 70s.
After hiring and subsequently firing many writers to take on the task -including Aldiss himself- Kubrick started doubting that not only was it almost impossible to get the characterizations right, but the special effects technology was not up to the standards required to fulfill his vision. Enter Kubrick’s viewing of Spielberg’s Jurassic Park. After viewing Spielberg’s epic monster film, Kubrick turned to his friend to try and mold the project to his sensibilities and produce it. Spielberg agreed to produce the film, but only on the condition that Kubrick himself direct it. But as does happen in Hollywood, other projects came up, and Kubrick died in March of 1999, shortly after completing the Tom Cruise vehicle Eyes Wide Shut. Spielberg finally took it upon himself to honor his friend and finish his vision.
Me, I walked into A.I. with the most lofty of expectations. I was a recent college dropout (I wouldn’t finish until 2012), and all I knew was that one of my heroes, the man who defined my childhood with films like Raiders of the Lost Ark and E.T., was now taking a Kubrick vision to the screen. I walked into the theater not hearing much, and my senses were set to be shattered with a huge epic telling of a harrowing sci-fi epic, as told by Steven f’n Spielberg.
What I Thought Then: In a word, I hated it. I felt like Haley Joel Osment’s character of David when I walked out of that theater in June of 2001. I walked in completely optimistic, and walked out pessimistically shattered. Interestingly, the uncommercial appeal of the movie baffled me. A.I. wasn’t the typical Steven Spielberg science-fiction/fantasy movie, made to warm hearts and move merchandise. Aside from the film itself, there was really only one A.I. product: a single, inexplicable toy teddy bear named Teddy. The film moved sluggishly along, and we meet people in David’s life only to see them systematically disappear. As the film begins, we meet his parents (Sam Robards and Frances O’Connor), who I figured we would be with for the entire film’s length. David was going to not feel right at first, but they would learn to love him and eventually, we would see their downfall through David’s eyes. These parents are in the film a grand total of 50 minutes.
From there, the film goes all over the place. Jude Law is Gigolo Joe. His sections were the most entertaining parts of the film, but they were not long enough for my taste. The only real highlight from the middle section was the Flesh Fair. Industrial band Ministry makes an appearance, and David sees lots of violent and dismantling mayhem. Spielberg lights this section up in a way that is all but disorienting, and it is full of such lit up fury that it somehow engrossed me. The final section of the film was the most laborious 45 minutes of film I had seen up to that point. It could have ended three times before it did, and by the time it was over, I had no emotional resonance. All I cared about was after two hours and twenty minutes, my hero Steven Spielberg finally ended a film which I thought should have ended twenty minutes before. It was an angry, but sad experience.
What I Think Now: Even after my initial hate for the film, I still picked up the DVD the day it came out. Still, it sat on my shelf for years. As I moved, so did this film. Almost like Teddy, this movie was something which spoke to me -albeit negatively- but I was not willing to revisit it. One night I blindingly brought it to an ex’s place to watch. But she said the scene of David with spinach in his mouth scared her to pieces when she first saw it and never wanted to revisit it again. Cut to this last weekend. After years, over a decade, of contemplating and start-stops, I dusted off my copy of A.I. and placed it in my DVD player. My feelings now? It is one of the most inexplicable and moving movies I have ever seen. Back in 2001, critics and people -ahem, me- thought the lines of dark and light were easy to read. People seemed to know when Kubrick’s vision ended and Spielberg’s began. Of course Spielberg was going to go for sentimentality, right? Years later, I see that way of thinking to be lazy, as Spielberg himself has said he was hesitant to redo Kubrick’s script for these exact reasons. The ending of the movie, which was so schmaltzy that everyone attributed it to Spielberg’s rewrite, is all Kubrick’s, and Spielberg worked hard to give the entire movie a hard edge. In fact, the most schmaltzy moment I’ve ever fallen for is the third act of this movie’s reveal that David is modeled after his inventor’s dead son. In part because losing a child does make one obsess, and in part because it brought the loss/loneliness story into sharp view. Now, doesn’t that just scream film manipulation? Ummm, no.
Also, looking at it this time, I did not see a hint of the sentimentality people were bitching about. Look at what A.I. is about. It’s about a robot who thinks he’s a child interacting with his parents who try to treat him like he’s their child, but know that he’s just a robot. It’s about the inherent tragedy of the human condition of loneliness or loss that could cause you to create a hyper intelligent companion that you can interact with as a human being. How is that ‘schmaltzy?’ The brilliance of Spielberg’s handling of this material is that it is not what the surface leads you to believe.
One more thing I want to point out. Why the hell was Frances O’Connor not our next big name actress after this movie? From an acting stand point, the moment she leaves David in the woods is one to marvel. It’s such a heartbreaking moment of sacrifice because her character seems to truly love David in that moment, and that’s why she has to abandon him, so she can save him from dismantling. And the film’s ending wouldn’t work if she didn’t sell the something’s-not-quite-right nature of her ‘revival,’ which she does.
In Conclusion: A.I. was a movie I was not ready for the first time I saw it. I came to be amazed. I did not expect a melding of minds which ended up being nothing of the sort. Though he is credited as screenwriter, all Spielberg did was meld his friend’s vision into a film that in the end honors his friend in probably the best way it can. He made a movie whose meanings and unending arcs we can debate for decades after it was made. I also think this was the start of the most consistent section of films Spielberg has done in the 2000s. Minority Report, Catch Me If You Can, War Of The Worlds, and Munich are fascinating pieces of cinema that really allowed Spielberg to flex different muscles than what he as a filmmaker was used to doing, and what we as an audience expected from him. Maybe it took a trip to Kubrick’s sensible mind to do so.
Starring: Chris Pratt, Bryce Dallas Howard, Irrfan Khan, BD Wong, Vincent D’Onofrio, Judy Greer, Nick Robinson, and Ty Simpkins.
Think back to November of last year. You get bundled up in a movie theater, grab your popcorn, and a teaser for a brand new Jurassic Park movie, entitled Jurassic World, plasters itself on the screen. Now think back to how at first you were amazed by the effects shown in the trailer, but then a slight tinge of fear crept into your brain. Not a fear of dinosaurs. But a fear that the movie being advertised, which had its trailer capped off by Chris Pratt riding a motorcycle next to raptors, was going to end up being a remake of the first film wrapped up in a thinly-knitted sequel blanket. Then think of how a badly handled sequel could make for a ho-hum night at the movies, and you have my opinion of Jurassic World.
Steven Spielberg’s name is plastered all over the film’s credits. Though unlike the previous three Transformers sequels, I feel he was very hands on with his handling of Jurassic World. For example, can the ritual of a shark getting eaten on a daily basis be any more of an obvious attempt by Spielberg to further put down his former lawyer Bruce (for which the mechanical shark in Jaws was named)? Though this sequel/remake hybrid comes off as more of a remake than the former. Want a car getting pursued by a T-Rex? You can either put in a copy of the 22 year old original, or watch it get reenacted once again in all its new 3D glory. It is a sad part of modern filmmaking that I absolutely hate. A film is advertised as a sequel, but all it does is come off as a cardboard cutout copy of the original. This isn’t an accident, as Safety Not Guaranteed director Colin Trevorrow has openly declared himself a huge fan of the first film, and has pulled the Bryan Singer card by saying this is a sequel to Jurassic Park that ignores its two sequels. Yet even with this bold decision promising people more of a continuation of the first film than The Lost World and Jurassic Park III, scriptwriters Amanda Silver and Rick Jaffa (Rise of the Planet of the Apes) don’t help his cause.
Jurassic World follows its combined Jurassic Park/Jaws 3 instinct by reopening the park to 20,000 people, who are experiencing things such as riding a Triceratops and seeing an underwater Mosasaurus in all its aquatic glory. Meanwhile, only returning character Dr Henry Wu (Wong) is carefully constructing a brand new attraction sure to thrill visitors called the Indominus Rex. Shortly after park consultant Owen Grady (Pratt) arrives to take a look at the creature, it breaks loose, causing havoc and bringing people who want to help the people together, while pulling apart others who want to help the animals. Sound familiar?
In all his scenes, you can tell Pratt is trying his best to meld the sarcastic quirkiness of Jeff Goldblum’s Ian Malcolm with the warm and intelligent sensibility of Sam Neil’s Alan Grant. But between his sarcastic lines -most of which I groaned at- and zero chemistry with Howard’s character of Claire, the human element of Jurassic World is exceedingly frustrating to watch develop. Yes, Trevorrow attempts to create a love story between previously failed couple Claire and Owen -they went on one date that was a miserable experience for both- but like the majority of the movie, it feels forced.
There were a few things I did like about Jurassic World. Its climactic ending is a sometimes exciting, fifteen minute roller coaster ride. Having the T-Rex still display battle wounds from its first fight with raptors was a nice touch, and the two kids in danger here (one of which was in Iron Man 3) are very affable. Though while Trevorrow can explain until he is as blue as the film’s dark pallet that he is just a fanboy trying to make a great sequel to one of his all time favorite movies, he is missing what made that film so wondrous.
Back in 1993, Spielberg did a nice job of building his world within the cinematic confines he was restricted to. So much so that it was a magical moment when Goldblum/Neil/Dern first come across the Brontosauruses walking in and around the water. Now, audiences expect nothing short of newer, bigger, and meaner dinosaurs coming across each characters’ paths. However, when the characters you put in danger are as bland as those played here by Platt and Howard, you have a major problem. Even with an admittedly exciting ending, some nice hints at nostalgia and a few decent scenes involving the I-Rex, I say pass up the money grabbing 3D release of Jurassic World and just watch the original again instead.
Starring: Sam Rockwell, Rosemarie DeWitt, Saxon Sharbino, Kyle Catlett, Kennedi Clements, Jane Adams, and Jared Harris.
In 2013, a seeming pointless remake of Stephen King’s first novel Carrie, starring Chloe Moretz in the title role, hit cinemas and was mostly met with resounding groans. In a way, I can see the point in Kimberly Pierce’s attempt at recreating the zeitgeist of Brian DePalma’s 1976 original film for a brand new generation because 2012 was dominated by headlines of extreme bullying. While watching Poltergeist, the 2015 remake of Steven Spielberg and Tobe Hooper’s 1982 film, it was almost impossible to not think of the failed Pierce effort from two years ago. Reason being director James Wan’s recent forays into haunted house horror The Conjuring and Insidious have revamped the seemingly dying sub genre for a whole new generation. Evil Dead director Sam Raimi, seeing a chance to pounce on a trend much like Pierce did two years ago, acquired the rights to Spielberg’s sentimental film and employed director Gil Kenan (Monster House), as well as highly regarded actor Sam Rockwell (Moon) in the lead role, hoping to aspire dollar signs similar to Wan’s recent efforts. While people who like their scares served on a rapid-fire platter might find something to grasp with the result, Poltergeist mostly falls down in the most clumsily put together big studio horror film I have seen in a long while.
When judging a film for what it is, we are taught to take what a new version gives us and not fall back on comparisons to what came before it. Unfortunately, I am having a hard time doing so with Poltergeist 2015. I guess the wall I am running into is I have always felt that while there are definitely scares in the original film that not only pushed the boundaries of its PG rating, but ran over them with a tank, there was always an established heart in its center. Here, writer David Lindsay-Abaire (Oz: The Great And Powerful) and director Kenan layer the film with a modernized coat of paint while also highlighting some key differences. For example, the three kids in this version are handcuffed to their portable devices, and if it weren’t for its music video style kinetic energy, I would think there was some sort of modern commentary being given to us about how much these small ports of technology inhibit the family unit to the point of extinction. Don’t get me wrong. They come into play later in the film. But like so much of its attempts at modernization, this part of Poltergeist falters and we are barely introduced to the Bowen family (I guess MGM has a strange stranglehold on the Freeling name) before we are dragged to the depths of not unsettling scares, but a more than modest form of mediocrity.
One complaint I have about Wan’s style is his work does not build mood as much as jolt you silly with loud noises and booming music cues. Kenan employs this technique to massive effect in Poltergeist, as mood is abolished for silly camera movements and kinetic temperaments. Maddy Bowen (Clements) is sucked into the depths of TV hell rather quickly, and her family is rapidly pulled through one scary situation after another, first by paranormal ‘expert’ Adams and then by Jared Harris, 2015’s answer to Zelda Rubenstein’s quirky performance in the original. Echoing 2011’s Fright Night remake, Harris’s character is modernized in this take to be a reality star. While I enjoyed what Harris brought, there was a sense of forced kookiness to his character as opposed to the natural feeling dryness from Rubenstein’s original performance.
Despite identical story beats and lack of characterization, not all is bad in Poltergeist. Rockwell, as much as he seems to be mimicking his performance from last year’s Laggies, is a likable presence every time he appears onscreen. Which is hard to do given his character is a mostly drunk father of three who has just been laid off. DeWitt (Mad Men) does what she can with an underwritten role lacking the heroism and faultiness from JoBeth Williams’s previous incarnation. And Clements fills the shoes of the late Heather O’Rourke better than I was expecting, as her big eyes and eagerness to move makes us care once her plight unabashedly starts. However, the real revelation about Poltergeist is the successful expansion of the brother character, this time named Griffin and characterized by Catlett. The decision to make the brother a neurotically inclined center of the story is the only wise one I can think of from Lindsay-Abaire’s script, and there is even a cleverly placed Spielberg tribute in his room which I won’t spoil here.
Despite that one touch, it is impossible to mention a moment when this take on the material improves upon its counterpart. The horror genre is a genre known for its ability to milk a successful formula until it’s dry. Yet remaking a movie with as much sentimental value as Poltergeist just because of Wan’s currently successful style goes to depths even Pierce didn’t touch upon in her much better Carrie remake from two years ago. And it is looking to not go away anytime soon, as Wan’s The Conjuring 2 has been subtitled ‘The Enfield Poltergeist.’ Brace yourselves. As much as it pains me to say, Raimi’s much faulted production may only be the beginning.