Santorum Spreads to Hollywood
6/20/2007 5:00:00 PM
Former Senator Rick Santorum is... well, just read the article. — Peter Smith
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Fear the Fists of Captain Newfoundland
6/20/2007 4:00:00 PM
John Bell's new book Invaders from the North: How Canada Conquered the Comic Book Universe
chronicles decades of attempts by the comic book creators of the Great White North to come up with a costumed crime-fighter their nation could proudly call its own. "Conquered" might be a little strong, actually; Bell himself describes the history of the Canadian superhero as "somewhat quixotic." Sure, Johnny Canuck ("Canada's answer to Nazi oppression") gave der Fuhrer fits and even socked him on the jaw, but look what happens: sixty years later, the memory of J.C.'s brave exploits have been obscured by the legend of Captain America, who had funny wings on his hat and sat out the climax of WWII in a block of ice. (If Cap were running for the Democratic presidential nomination, the Swift Boaters would claim that he deliberately froze himself as an alibi after he probably molested and then killed Bucky.)
Nor was Johnny Canuck alone in fighting for truth, justice, and the Toronto Maple Leafs: there were also Captain Jack, Captain Canuck, Captain Newfoundland, and Nelvana of the Northern Lights.
Are you listening, Disney? All these characters have proven track records and ready-made mythologies, and you can probably buy the movie rights to all of them for a fraction of what you're paying Stan Lee. Reviewer Jeet Heer sneers that none of them are "superheroes of the first rank," as if he'd turn down help from any of them if his house was on fire. I hate to be the one to break it to everybody, but the Punisher is just a moody steroid freak with an arsenal and a gift T-shirt, and he got to go toe-to-toe with John Travolta. Quick, somebody stick a copy of "Captain Canuck" under Nicolas Cage's door, and and pray he reads it while his caffeine is kicking in. — Phil Nugent
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The Penis Mightier
6/20/2007 3:00:00 PM
Someone's compiled the best of Darrell Hammond's Sean Connery from Saturday Night Live. Since we won't be seeing Sir Sean in the new Indiana Jones movie (sadly, The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen will be his last movie), this may be the next best thing.
Part 1
Part 2
— Faisal A. Qureshi
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That Guy!: J.A. Preston
6/20/2007 2:00:00 PM
Let us say, for the sake of argument, that you're a Hollywood casting director. Let's say you're in need of a mustachioed African-American actor possessed of a certain ineffable dignity and intelligence, whose job it is to express doubt at the harebrained schemes of the lead (white) actor, and you need him on the cheap. And let's finally say that, for whatever reason, Ron Glass is not available. That’s when you tell your people to get on the horn to Mr. J.A. Preston. Best known to audiences as Ozzie Cleveland on Hill Street Blues or as the presiding judge in A Few Good Men, Preston has been making movies for thirty-six years, and has a good three-dozen films and twice that many TV spots under his belt. Though he’s never had the luxury of a starring role, Preston always carries an inordinate amount of gravitas. Only fortune, and the fact that he appears to have a decent sense of humor about himself, have prevented him from becoming another James Earl Jones. He’s one of those actors who almost makes you feel bad that he’s never gotten a big chance; but he’s such a pleasant surprise when he does show up — which is often — that it’s impossible to sustain that bad feeling for long. In films, he’s often the anti-Morgan Freeman; rather than the gently prodding Magical Negro who shepherds the clueless Caucasian through his many trials, Preston is the ill-tempered, patience-deficient educated black man who lets the clueless Caucasian know that he is taking zero shit from this point forward. (Such is the power of his glare that he even managed to get one over on the unstoppable Martin Lawrence in a few guest appearances on his TV show.) Biographical information on Preston is as scarce as his leading roles, and he hasn’t made a film in several years; whether he’s ill, bored, or just in a prolonged dry patch, he’s still a career winner.
Where to see J.A. Preston at his best:
Real Life (1979)
For his hilarious debut feature, Albert Brooks cast a largely unknown J.A. Preston in the role of Dr. Ted Cleary, the only rational person involved in the making of a family documentary. Preston steals more than one scene with his ability to make the director deeply uncomfortable. "Albert, you have more trouble dealing with a black man than any white person I have ever met," intones Preston in his sad/angry voice, to the poorly feigned shock of a clearly petrified Brooks.
Body Heat (1981)
Lawrence Kasdan’s underrated neo-noir remakes Double Indemnity with a lunkheaded William Hurt as a Florida attorney and a steaming-hot Kathleen Turner as his femme fatale. Like the Jack Nicholson remake of The Postman Always Rings Twice — but with better results — it ramps up the sex and the rank, irresistible evil. One of the high points of the film is a fine supporting turn by Preston as one of Hurt’s professional acquaintances, who knows exactly how the story will end, and who tries and fails to make Hurt change direction.
Remo Williams: The Adventure Begins (1985)
The adventure also ends in this lackluster adaptation of the popular men’s action novels. A lumbering Fred Ward makes an uncharismatic lead, and the plot is weightless. But most problematically, actors and screenwriters alike(with the possible exception of Joel Grey) missed that the Destroyer novels were satires, goofs on anything and everything including the men’s adventure genre itself. There isn’t much worth seeing here, but J.A. Preston puts in a fine performance as government agent Conn MacCleary. His character didn’t live long enough to appear in any potential sequels, but fortunately, that wasn’t an issue. — Leonard Pierce
Previous That Guy! columns:
Tom Atkins
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Everybody Watches the Watchmen
6/20/2007 1:00:00 PM
Amongst comics fans, no film project is causing as much excitement and dread as Zach Snyder's upcoming adaptation of Watchmen. Right now, rumors are flying about casting: former child star and 2006 Oscar nominee Jackie Earle Haley (Little Children) has apparently snagged the iconic role of Manichean vigilante Rorschach; Haley’s Little Children co-star Patrick Wilson looks like a lock for conflicted superhero Nite-Owl II; and Ain’t It Cool News hints that Jason Patric and Tom Jane respectively will play the omnipotent Dr. Manhattan and the aging, brutal Comedian. — Leonard Pierce
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A Comedy of Ill Manners: The Curtis Harrington Funeral
6/20/2007 12:00:00 PM
The mainstream media gave the passing of director Curtis Harrington early this May only a modicum of attention. Yet the funeral itself was the event of the year, judging from the blog-based obits starting to come in. Ian Whitcomb, in his Letter from Lotusland, reports attended the service for his "dear old friend." Held at Forever Hollywood to a full chapel, the event soon turned into vaudeville, or something out of a Christopher Guest film. "A cellist played mournfully, the same cellist who'd been playing when Curtis had his last margarita at Lucy's El Adobe, near Paramount, the night before he died. We acknowledged friends and stayed respectful," Whitcomb writes.
"Then there was a commotion: I recognized another old friend, a sort-of friend, the avant-garde filmmaker and scurrilous author Kenneth (Hollywood Babylon) Anger, getting ejected from the chapel. Bald as an egg and orange of hue, he was loudly stating 'You're throwing me out! This will be on the front page of the Times tomorrow!'" But Anger didn't stay excluded long. After a viewing of the body, the actor Jack Larsen (Superman's Jimmy Olson) rose to say some words, but Anger, had snuck back in and positioned himself in the front row, and began screaming again: "Speak up!" "It was never a coven that we were involved in!" and "I financed Curtis's trip to Italy!"
At that point, as Whitcomb has it, "Anger took over from the gentlemanly Larsen. He announced that everyone was wrong: Curtis was in fact eighty-six, and died of prostate cancer, the disease that he, Anger, is going to die of. He even gave us the exact date: Halloween, 2008. 'I will be laid to rest right here and there will be a service — but unlike this one it will be by reservation only.' Much laughter. The mourners had become audience and were enjoying the show. But I could feel Curtis writhing in his casket. His enemy was having the last laugh." A second memorial service a week later at the Linwood Dunn Theatre was Anger free. — D. K. Holm
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Morning Deal Report: Narnia Up
6/20/2007 11:00:00 AM
The next Narnia movie (what took them so long?) will be directed by Michael Apted. It finds Peter, Susan, Edmund and Lucy seven years older and wiser. Peter has found satisfaction in his teaching job, while Susan feels insecure about not going to university. . . etc, etc.
Frank Miller adapts Raymond Chandler. Why do I get the feeling a few extra bludgeonings are getting shoehorned in there?
Interesting item from Variety: Donnie Yen will star in a Chinese supernatural thriller. Apparently China doesn't make a lot of spook movies because they could distract the glorious peasant workers from their revolutionary march.
Filmstalker reports that Martin Scorsese and Robert DeNiro are hard at work on their next film, an adaptation of Don Winslow's book The Winter of Frankie Machine. I believe this DeNiro guy is mostly known for mugging his way through Ben Stiller movies. It'll be interesting to see if he can tackle a dramatic role. — Peter Smith
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Tony, Carm, Hil and Bill
6/20/2007 10:00:00 AM
Not exactly film-related, but a moving picture nonetheless: So, Hillary Clinton is making news for a viral video spoofing the Sopranos finale in announcing her choice of campaign song. It stars Hil and Bill going to a diner, sitting down, and eating carrot sticks (not onion rings) while Chelsea parks the car and they get some strange looks.
Interesting. Everybody's trying to decide whether this makes Hillary seem looser and more "with it," but it also begs the question: Wha? Leaving aside the still-burning question of whether Tony Soprano actually got whacked, isn't anybody feeling a mite uncomfortable putting the Clintons, one of whom is after all a former President, in a gangland context? What next? George W. Bush singing "Springtime for Hitler"?
Also, we're waiting for someone to start parsing Bill Clinton's stated fondness for Smashmouth in this video. Come on, Drudge, don't let us down now. — Bilge Ebiri
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Your Unexpected Source for DVD Reviews: American Cinematographer
6/19/2007 4:00:00 PM
You might think reviews in American Cinematographer would be superficial and "corporate." But the online version of the magazine runs DVD reviews of films you wouldn't expect to be heralded by the American Society of Cinematographers. For one thing, few of them are American. The DVD section kicks off with a look at The Films of Alejandro Jodorowsky, followed by reviews of Amarcord, Michael Haneke's difficult Funny Games, The Conformist and Performance. More predictably, there are also reviews of The Premiere Frank Capra Collection and The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants, called "one of the most underrated releases of last year."
Curiously, the reviews don't focus solely on the cinematography (though the Pants review does note that "the filmmakers visually convey the characters' friendships with long takes and careful compositions.") The only major feature posted from the print version of the magazine is the reassuringly technical cover story on Pirates of the Caribbean: At World’s End: "Wolski shot At World's End in Super 35mm with a camera package comprising Panaflex Platinums, a Panavision Lightweight, Arri 435 and 235 cameras, and Primo prime and 11:1 and 4:1 zoom lenses. Lens filtration was limited to NDs and polarizers for exterior work." Good to know. — D. K. Holm
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Sicko Update
6/19/2007 3:00:00 PM
We spend a lot of time crawling through the e-stacks at YouTube to bring you Videos of the Day, upcoming trailers, clips for our weekly Top Tens, and so on. One thing we won’t be bringing you, though, since it’s been unceremoniously yanked from the site, is the entirety of Michael Moore's Sicko. The whole movie, in what’s reported to be high-quality video that could only have been made by an insider, was uploaded to YouTube over the weekend in fourteen-minute chunks, only to be interdicted Monday morning after complaints from the Weinstein Company. The Hollywood Reporter has the whole story, including Moore's denial that he was the source of the leak. — Leonard Pierce
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