The Screengrab : roddy mcdowell

Screengrab's Top Guilty Pleasures (Part Two)

Andrew Osborne — Thu, 20 Nov 2008 21:30:00 GMT

SCOTT VON DOVIAK'S GUILTY PLEASURES:

BENEATH THE PLANET OF THE APES (1970)

If your weaknesses include pre-Star Wars sci-fi of the '70s and monkey movies, it really doesn't get any better than the Planet of the Apes series. I would classify the first Apes movie as a genuine classic, no guilt required. The same can't be said about the first sequel – at least, not by me and certainly not with a straight face. For one thing, star Charlton Heston only agreed to a few days of shooting, so he disappears a few minutes into the movie and is essentially replaced by James Franciscus as a newly arrived astronaut from the past. Franciscus appears to have been cast for his resemblance to Heston…that is, until late in the movie when you actually see both actors in the same shot and realize what a freakish-looking human being Charlton Heston really was. His performance may not be fondly remembered, but Franciscus did give us an immortal reading of the line, "My God! It's a city of…apes!" Beneath also offers Barney Miller's James "Inspector Luger" Gregory as a gorilla and Victor Buono as the leader of a race of underground mutants who worship an atomic bomb. Best of all, it has the most abruptly nihilistic ending of all time, as Charlton Heston attempts to put an end to the series by blowing up the planet. Fortunately for us Ape-heads, it didn't work.

O.C. AND STIGGS (1985)

This one is close to indefensible. I know Robert Altman loved all his children equally, but pundits like myself are supposed to be more discerning. Rationally, I know O.C. and Stiggs ranks with bottom tier Altman like Kansas City, HEALTH and the odious Pret-a-Porter, but for some ineffable reason I love it anyway. Goodness knows the leads (Daniel Jenkins as O.C., Neill Barry as Stiggs) are a uniquely uncharismatic pair – at times downright repellent, in fact. The plot is nonexistent even by Altman standards – two teenagers bum around suburban Arizona, torment their hated neighbor and conspire to bring King Sunny Ade to town for a concert. Yet there's something about the lazy summer vibe and tacky-tiki setting that sucks me in, something fundamentally amusing about applying the Altman filter to the John Hughes template, and even something geekily satisfying about the way Altman weaves in references to other movies, whether his own (the continuing campaign of Hal Philip Walker from Nashville) or others (Dennis Hopper reprising his Apocalypse Now role). If the filmography of Robert Altman is a vast palace of wonders, O.C. and Stiggs is the pink flamingo on the lawn. He wouldn't have it any other way.

POINT BREAK (1991)

I know the release date is 1991, but I like to think of Point Break as the last movie of the '80s. It's goofy and way over the top, but it doesn't get bogged down in CGI and fireballs and seizure-iffic editing – it's pre-Michael Bay action filmmaking at its most testosterone-poisoned, so naturally it could only have been directed by Kathryn Bigelow. The role of quarterback-turned-FBI agent Johnny Utah (Johnny Utah! Genius! The perfect genetic splicing of Johnny Unitas and Joe Montana!) fit Keanu Reeves like the wetsuit he often wears in the movie; if you were going to pick one agent to infiltrate a gang of surfers who rob banks while wearing Reagan and Nixon masks, it would be him. Of course, he needs a crazy partner with a fondness for meatball subs, which is where Gary Busey enters the picture. And he needs a worthy adversary to brah-mance, a golden god Zen master of surfing and bank robbery and all that is extreme in life – and who better for that role than the star of that cheesiest of all '80s action-fests, Road House? Point Break is basically a two-hour dick-measuring contest, which Reeves wins by jumping out of a plane without a parachute and using his sheer dudeness to fall faster than Patrick Swayze.

THE FAST & THE FURIOUS (2001)

Let me be clear: I speak only of the first of the fasts and the furiouses, not the 2 stinky 2 believe sequels. The 2001 original is a supercharged street racing thriller straight out of the old Roger Corman playbook. Ideally, it should be viewed not in an air-conditioned cineplex with stadium seating and THX sound, but at a hot, sticky drive-in with a case of cold beer on hand. The opening half hour offers up a bare-knuckle brawl, a drag race down a deserted city street, a high-speed police chase, a surprise attack by an Asian motorcycle gang, and finally a little down time at a house party where two gorgeous young women lock lips. It was at this point, I well recall, that someone in the audience behind me jumped up out of his seat and yelled "I love this movie!" to uproarious laughter and applause. It's that kind of picture. Sure, the lead is limp noodle Paul Walker, and Michelle Rodriguez is at maximum glare-and-pout annoyance, but for once Vin Diesel is the right man in the right place. His name alone qualifies him as an astute casting decision, but his sleek chrome dome and rumbling voice seal the deal.

Click Here For More Guilt From Andrew Osborne, Leonard Pierce, Hayden Childs, Vadim Rizov & Sarah Clyne Sundberg

Contributor: Scott Von Doviak

Where’s Roddy McDowell When You Need Him?

Scott Von Doviak — Fri, 10 Oct 2008 14:00:00 GMT

A couple of weeks ago, I told you all about my experience watching the restored version of Conquest of the Planet of the Apes at Fantastic Fest, and in the process managed to anger some hardcore Apes fans. Apparently my tone was a bit too cavalier for their liking, and they were particularly offended that I didn’t do a shot-by-shot comparison between the existing version of Conquest and the bloodier, less conciliatory cut that will be released as part of the new Blu-Ray Apes boxed set. As it turns out, I may not have taken the movie seriously enough – but not for the reasons these fans cited. No, it was my skepticism that apes would someday be serving me beer that proves now to be unfounded. Indeed, the events foretold in Conquest – the violent overthrow of human society by an ape revolution – may be mere months away.

Shocking evidence after the jump.

Fantastic Fest Review: "Conquest of the Planet of the Apes" - The Unseen Cut

Scott Von Doviak — Sun, 21 Sep 2008 13:00:00 GMT

This is not the first time I've seen Conquest of the Planet of the Apes in a theater. I caught it during its original release, but being five years old, I didn't really pick up on the whole Black Power thing. I was probably just excited to see monkeys running around in jumpsuits and setting people on fire. In fact, that's still about as good as it gets for me, which goes a long way towards explaining why I had so much fun at the Fantastic Fest screening of Conquest of the Planet of the Apes: The Unseen Cut.

Why "unseen"? Well, it seems the first version of the film, which has not been seen in this country since it was test screened back in 1972, was a little too violent and disturbing to earn a PG rating. But as part of the 40th anniversary celebration of the Apes series, 20th Century Fox is releasing a new DVD boxed set containing all five orginal Apes movies in Blu-Ray, including the original version of Conquest complete with the nine minutes of footage that had been trimmed following those test screenings. This is the version that screened at Fantastic Fest.

There are certain drawbacks to watching Conquest in high-definition. The later Apes entries were produced on a considerably lower budget than the original, which means that Roddy McDowell is basically the only actor onscreen who gets the full makeup treatment. It's more obvious now than ever that most of the supporting chimps, gorillas and orangutans are wearing cheap latex masks. But by the time you notice that, you've already had to suspend quite a bit of disbelief. The premise: In the far-off future of 1991, all the dogs and cats have died off from a virus brought back to Earth by the astronauts. Missing their pets, humans adopt cute widdle chimps and such, but the apes prove to be such quick learners, their masters soon retrain them to be servants - or to put it more bluntly, slaves. (Sure, it sounds cruel, but if I could train my lovable li'l chibeagle Maury to fetch me a beer and take out the trash, I'd do it in a heartbeat.)

Unbeknownst to the human government, Ceasar (Roddy McDowell), the son of the chimpanzees who arrived from the future Planet of the Apes in the previous movie, is still alive and living in a circus operated by Armando (Ricardo Montalbon). Sickened by the enslavement of his fellow apes, Ceasar leads an uprising against their human overlords.

This, of course, is a time paradox. If Ceasar's parents had not come back from the future Earth ruled by apes, he would not have been born in the past and thus could not have led the rebellion that caused that planet of apes in the first place. Again, this is something I didn't consider when I was five.

The whole "race war" allegory also flew over my head at the time, though it's inescapable now. That's especially true in this restored version. I can't cite chapter and verse as to the differences between this and the Conquest released in theaters and subsequently on video, but the climactic ape riot is definitely more violent. There's a lot more blood - although it's fakey Technicolor blood - and the shots of gorillas bludgeoning humans to death are greatly extended. The biggest difference is in McDowell's closing speech, which, I am reminded, is just fucking awesome. So awesome I must quote it in its entirety:

"Where there is fire, there is smoke. And in that smoke, from this day forward, my people will crouch, and conspire, and plot, and plan for the inevitable day of Man's downfall - the day when he finally and self-destructively turns his weapons against his own kind. The day of the writing in the sky, when your cities lie buried under radioactive rubble! When the sea is a dead sea, and the land is a wasteland out of which I will lead my people from their captivity! And we will build our own cities, in which there will be no place for humans except to serve our ends! And we shall found our own armies, our own religion, our own dynasty! And that day is upon you NOW!"

Pause. Deep breath. Anyway, you may recall that the theatrical release quickly backs off from this moment. Apparently the test screenings did not go well, so some additional McDowell dialogue was dubbed over the final shot, some crap about "Now we put down our weapons and rise above it all and blah blah blah." Screw that noise. Long live Planet of the Apes!

Related:
Fantastic Fest Review: "Zack and Miri Make a Porno"
When Good Directors Go Bad: Planet of the Apes (Tim Burton)

Yesterday's Hits: The Longest Day (1962, Andrew Marton, Ken Annakin, and Bernhard Wicki)

Paul Clark — Tue, 26 Aug 2008 19:00:00 GMT

What made The Longest Day a hit?: In 1962, World War II was still fresh in the minds of the American people, most of whom were alive when it was being fought. In the intervening years, movies about the war became popular, but seventeen years after the war was over, super-producer Darryl F. Zanuck decided the time was right to make the biggest war movie of all, focusing on one of the turning points of the war- D-Day. Zanuck called upon Cornelius Ryan to adapt his exhaustive book, which approached the battle through many different perspectives, from the top brass on both sides to the men on the ground, and Zanuck even went so far as to have the French and German soldiers speak their own languages for the film rather than having everyone speak English.

In addition, Zanuck enlisted an impressive cast- one that included John Wayne, Henry Fonda, Robert Mitchum, Richard Burton, Robert Ryan, Rod Steiger, Sal Mineo, Peter Lawford, Roddy McDowell, Curt Jürgens, Jean-Louis Barrault, Red Buttons, and an up-and-comer named Sean Connery- to help him pay tribute to the men who fought and died to help turn the tide for the Allied forces. It worked, and The Longest Day became one of the biggest hits of 1962, grossing almost $40 million domestically, trailing only another pair of super-productions- How the West Was Won and Lawrence of Arabia- at the yearly box office.

What happened?: While the American people saw World War II as both a military and a moral victory, the country was soon to enter into a conflict that wasn’t nearly so simple- Vietnam. As our involvement in Vietnam dragged on for years with no victory in sight, both the soldiers and the people at home were souring on the idea of war, especially as images of various atrocities began showing up on television. After Vietnam, war meant something very different to many Americans than it did after World War II, and the war movies that came out of Hollywood reflected this. The morality of these movies became more complex, with less cut-and-dried heroism and more characters questioning the validity of war. This coincided with the fall of the Production Code, and consequently battle scenes became much bloodier and more chaotic. 1998 brought the most violent mainstream war movie of all, Steven Spielberg’s Saving Private Ryan, whose brutal take on D-Day quickly replaced The Longest Day’s comparatively tame recreation of the battle in the minds of most moviegoers.

Does The Longest Day still work?: Surprisingly, yes. Having been raised on violent, gritty anti-war movies, I expected a star-studded classically-styled movie about Normandy to come off as quaint. But it actually holds up pretty well. Much of this has to do with how its story is told- instead of re-creating the battle from one perspective, we see it from many angles- the Allied generals who planned it, the Germans who didn’t quite anticipate it going down like this, the paratroopers who were dropped inland, the men on the beach, the Resistance fighters, even the residents of the surrounding towns. Because of this, The Longest Day becomes less about morality than it does about tactics and strategy- hardly a contemporary approach to the war movie, but a compelling one nonetheless.

Even the star-studded cast worked better for me than I’d anticipated. Often, casting so many stars can be distracting, with the familiar faces taking the audience right out of the action. But here it’s almost necessary to keep all of the different plot strands straight. It helps that most of the big names are playing officers, so we can remember that Mitchum is leading the boys on Omaha Beach, Fonda heading the charge on Utah, Wayne commanding the paratroopers, and so on. Wayne’s presence is key here- he never fought in World War II himself, but he appeared in so many war movies both during and after the war that he fit the Hollywood mold of a soldier more than most of the stars who actually did fight.

One could make a similar claim for The Longest Day- it didn’t exactly look like war, but the classical Hollywood image of what war ought to look like. This isn’t necessarily a bad thing, just a reflection of changing times. At one point in his career, Zanuck famously quipped, “There is nothing duller on the screen than being accurate but not dramatic.” The Longest Day fudged a number of details about D-Day (for example, a key battle takes place at an abandoned casino that hadn’t even been built yet in real life), but from a dramatic standpoint it works. And although it doesn’t correspond to our contemporary idea of what a war movie should be, it’s fascinating as an example of what was once the prevailing popular view of war, from a time when it was easier for us to feel that way.