Why is Christopher Walken speaking as if he’s live-translating his lines at a NATO conference?
Why isn’t the angel of death focusing on killing people rather than on making periodical appearances during which he doles out increasingly logically-questionable exposition?
Why did I sit through the entire film only to find out that everything following Newman getting the ‘universal remote control’ from Bed, Bath, and Beyond is a dream?
These, too, are paradoxes.
The movies are built on them.
PARTIES
The HERO hates PARTIES and will only attend one out of duty. Being open to joy/exhibiting signs of happiness is inherently repellent to the hero.
For the hero, happiness only exists in brief flashbacks to Super 8/B&W/video footage of the time when he was married, before he lost his wife in that unpreventable accident for which he blames himself, even though it totally wasn’t his fault.
So he walks through sites of revelry with suspicion, trying to retrieve his naive daughter from the clutches of some piece of pond life – let’s call him Chad. Sure, Chad’s swagger may initially impress, but the daughter will soon realize what Chad’s really after and reject his oleaginous advances, thus buying her old man enough time to bust down the door and kick this Chad punk into next week.
Pin-dicks like Chad, high on reefer and horny as hell, represent the worst aspect of masculinity: callow, young, hubristic. How far removed from the stately smolder of a man in the prime of his life (55–70)! Such a man – a real man – can truly protect a woman (17– 35) who could become an excellent, fun stepmother to his daughter – they could even hang out like friends – so when he’s busy they can sort of cancel one another out and stop beefing about how he’s away the whole time, as long as they don’t start going to …
See: ENJOYMENT, WHAT IS; HERO, THE
POINT OF VIEW
Let us for a moment imagine the stories we could tell if cinema were ever to look at our world from a male POINT OF VIEW.
For the last seventy or so years, the industry has been pretty much a chicks-only affair. Occasionally a man (McG, Len Wiseman) gets to tell stories his way – but more and more it’s stories about linen and chunky beads and salads and tearing little bits off baguettes and driving responsibly and being emotionally open and laughing with friends and being vulnerable over stoneware bowls of artisanal ice cream and it’s driving me crazy my God some days I can’t get up. I simply won’t get up. Unless I feel myself starting to sway. Then I’ll look out the window to see if I’m being towed.
See: IS IT ACTUALLY COMPLICATED, OR ARE YOU JUST MAKING A MEAL OF IT?
POLO NECKS
The POLO NECK is an immediate, irrefutable indication of villainy.
The one exception is Illya Kuryakin (David McCallum) from The Man from U.N.C.L.E., but that was episodic television – a completely different mythos! In fact, I think this is one of the reasons why Guy Ritchie’s typically excellent movie reboot wasn’t the box-office smash it should have been: people don’t like to see heroes in knitwear. Knitwear suggests cosiness, complacency and inactivity; if an action hero is doing his job, he should look sweaty just standing in a vest. Think of how wet Bruce Willis gets in John McTiernan’s 1988 hostage dramedy Die Hard. And that movie takes place at Christmas! Shit, that man’s sexy. He gets so fucking wet I can’t stand it.
In Tobe Hooper’s underappreciated 1985 sci-fi slap Lifeforce, Col. Colin Caine (Peter Firth) saves humanity by staking one of the last surviving space vampires. And yet we never truly accept him as a HERO. This is because he insists on wearing a polo neck teamed with a trench coat – the go-to outerwear for the Third Reich.
I know what you’re saying: ‘Christopher Lambert, motherfucker. Christopher fuckin’ Lambert.’ But he would soften the edgy fascism of his trench coat with a soft linen shirt.
The only thing that can take the edge off a polo neck is Steve McQueen and a shoulder holster.
See: CURLY HAIR; GUY RITCHIE, THE COMPLETE WORKS OF; HERO, THE; STEVE MCQUEEN LOOKING SEXY AS SHIT WITH A GUN HOLSTER AND POLO NECK
POSTERS
On the POSTER for Bruno Barreto’s 2003 cabin-crew drama View from the Top, the ‘I’ in the word ‘VIEW’ is typeset to look like it’s the symbol for a women’s toilet. Straight away we’re engaged, thrillingly, by a series of questions:
– Is the ‘I’ inherently feminized in modern society? Is the male ego, or ‘I’, redundant?
– Is the ‘I’ literally a toilet? A private place where you close the door and pull down your pants? A place to ‘jettison’ unwanted personal ‘cargo’ (feces, urea, etc.)?
– Had they just not thought about how weird it looks?
Clearly, this is a movie which challenges reason itself.
Posters must provoke!
POST-TRAUMA SHOWERS
POST-TRAUMA baths are not cinematic. If you’ve just killed someone in a violent rage, the last thing you’ll want to do is hop in the tub.
In Paco Cabezas’s 2014 gangland execution dramedy Tokarev, Paul Maguire (Nicolas Cage) kills a Foreign National by repeatedly smashing his head into the ground.
Now he’s sweaty and uncomfortable.
Wisely, he heads straight for an enormous shower stall, large enough to accommodate his full width.
Cabezas, a director who trusts his audience with an almost touching zeal, allows this moment to breathe, much like the pores on Maguire’s massive back.
We must presume that Maguire has put on the immersion heater or has a tankless hot-water system, because as the droplets fall, ricocheting off his rhomboids, the last thing he’ll want is to be jolted out of his ‘oh-the-humanity’ reverie by an icy gush. Skipping out of the shower shrieking, ‘Holy shit, you guys, this thing’s fucking freezing,’ might make him look shallow.
And Maguire is not shallow. He actually feels pretty damn conflicted about smashing that man’s skull. He’ll have scratches on his knuckles for days: a haunting reminder of the all-too-fleeting nature of life and the awesome power contained within him – a power that he can and will unleash on anyone else who refuses to give him adequate intel.
Because when you think about it, what compelled Maguire to do what he did was injustice. Paul Maguire can’t stand injustice.
He would probably love to walk away from injustice like everyone else, perhaps even profit from it, but he can’t. He was born with an unerring sense of what justice is, and is able to do what it takes to enforce it on an ad hoc basis. Sometimes this will involve the death of others.
How can he justify these deaths?
It’s instinctive.
We just have to trust that Maguire will only kill when necessary. Was this particular killing necessary? It was borderline. Hence the long shower. He’s cross with himself. Perhaps there was no need to kick the man in the stomach with such force/frequency, but everything else was on the level.
So yes, it was necessary. That fat fuck whose head came apart in his hands wouldn’t give him the intel he’d asked for, so that fat fuck had to go down. If he hadn’t been such a pussy-ass fat fuck, he might be in a coma now instead of the morgue. That’s not Maguire’s fault. It’s someone else’s, i.e. the fat fuck’s.
And okay, maybe (on second glance) repeatedly shooting him after he’d smashed in his head was excessive, but by that point he was dead anyway. Isn’t it better that Maguire unleashes his fury on a corpse rather than on someone who’s still alive?
Cabezas grants us the time to read all these thoughts into the landscape of Nicolas Cage’s back.
Maguire stares at his hands as if he can’t believe he has hands – as if they should have just dropped off from the shame. A weaker character would do an UGLY SNOT-CRY, while sliding down the tiles into a fetal position near the drain.
But Paul Maguire stands tall until the last of the guilt is hosed off.
See: THE COMPLETE WORKS OF STEVEN SEAGAL; WEEPING, UGLY/SNOTTY; WATER-SOLUBLE REMORSE
POWER
But few memorable films have been made about power suppliers, despite the increase in so-called ‘origin’ stories.
See: GAPS IN THE MARKET, FINDING/EXPLOITING
POWERFUL MEN VS THEIR WEAK SONS
POWERFUL MEN frequently have WEAK SONS. In Félix Enríquez Alcalá’s 1997 eco-thriller Fire Down Below, Orin Hanner Jr (Brad Hunt) and Orin Hanner Sr (Kris Kristofferson) are discussing how to deal with Jack Taggart (Steven Seagal), an undercover Environmental Protection Agent posing as a handyman.
‘Should I take him out?’ asks Hanner Jr.
Hanner Sr’s reply?
‘You couldn’t take out a cheeseburger from a drive-thru window.’
What Orin Hanner Sr fails to realize is that taking out a cheeseburger from a drive-thru window is actually quite easy. Indeed, the drive-thru window’s sole purpose is to make this already-not-terribly-taxing transaction less onerous. This is a system designed for people who have concluded that one of the things preventing them from eating more cheeseburgers in-house is the exhausting walk from the parking lot to the counter.
Orin Hanner Jr almost certainly could take out a cheeseburger from a drive-thru window. In fact, this task would be far better suited to his limited abilities. How can Orin Hanner Sr seriously expect Orin Hanner Jr to physically combat Steven Seagal? No one on earth can ‘take out’ Steven Seagal! Has anyone even landed a punch on Steven Seagal?
So we can only assume that Hanner Sr’s comment is not true. It is, in fact, a comic exaggeration intended to wound.
But if Hanner Sr has such little faith in his son’s ability, why has he given him such a high level of responsibility within his criminal organization? Hanner Jr is essentially acting as Hanner Sr’s deputy for much of the narrative! If Hanner Sr wasn’t so busy at the casino or having hot women straighten his tie during business calls, perhaps his son would feel more motivated!
Has Orin Hanner Sr stopped to consider the impact of selfishly privileging his own feelings of negativity and hostility? How’s he meant to build up trust within his crime syndicate if his henchmen don’t feel loved and nurtured? If that’s how he speaks to his son, they might ask, imagine how sardonic he might be with us!
When people are unfairly maligned, their self-esteem plummets, they doubt the love of the person criticizing them and they become defensive. Sometimes they’re so upset they feel compelled to get a tattoo of a Celtic symbol as a badge of their individuality. So if you say to someone, ‘You can’t even take out a cheeseburger from a drive-thru window,’ perhaps that person will start to believe that he’s unable to perform other simple tasks – like breathing. Next thing you know, he’s writhing on the floor and choking for no reason! How’s he meant to rough up rival criminals when he’s thrashing on the deck like a beached haddock?!
And this is to say nothing of the damage Orin Hanner Sr is doing to himself as a parent. He’s continually eroding the bond of trust between himself and his child. By making statements that aren’t true, or not meant, he’s actually de-authorizing himself as a leader and a father. He’s showing that his judgments are wildly inaccurate! Nonsensical even! How is Orin Hanner Sr modeling leadership for Orin Hanner Jr, should Orin Hanner Jr get to run his own crime syndicate? He’s not!
If this gang is to succeed in the criminal world, they’re going to need incredible tenacity, because there’s so much resistance to gangs from ‘legitimate’ elements in society. People often react negatively to hoodlums (‘You’re hurting me,’ ‘I’ll make you pay for this,’ ‘I’m going to avenge my son,’ etc.), so henchmen really have to believe that what they’re doing is both necessary and valuable. If they feel like they can never please their boss (no matter how hard they try!), why should they put in any effort at all?
By undermining his son, the powerful father ends up making himself weak …
I am the strong one, Dad.
Me.
See: CRIME SYNDICATES, BUILDING SELF-ESTEEM WITHIN
PRISON RAPE
In Félix Enríquez Alcalá’s 1997 eco-thriller Fire Down Below, Jack Taggart (Steven Seagal), confident of the impending incarceration of antagonist Orin Hanner Sr (Kris Kristofferson), contends that he knows someone in PRISON called Tyrone who will probably RAPE him.*
In Rowdy Herrington’s 1989 doorman dramedy Road House, the villainous Jimmy (Marshall R. Teague, appearing under the not-entirely-effective pseudonym Marshall Teague) tells Dalton (Patrick Swayze), ‘I used to fuck guys like you in prison.’
How come the rape threat in Fire Down Below is such good-natured fun, while the rape threat in Road House is so heinous?
It boils down to consent.
Kris Kristofferson’s Orin Hanner Sr is evil. Therefore, he wishes evil to prevail. Rape is evil. Therefore, Kristofferson’s assent to rape can be assumed, even when he’s the ‘victim’. Seagal is literalizing the untenability of the villain’s philosophical standpoint. Plus, while it’s amusing to threaten rape, it’s another thing to actually do it! And in any case, it wouldn’t be Seagal doing the raping – it would be Tyrone! Taggart isn’t personally implicated at all! He’s just making a light-hearted observation of a likelihood (possibly) based on past experience/hearsay!
In commercial cinema, the way you threaten rape is crucial.
See: RACIAL STEREOTYPES, NAMES INTENDED TO EVOKE; RAPE, FUN WAYS TO THREATEN
* Kristofferson’s character, not Seagal! I’d like to see someone try to rape Steven Seagal! He wouldn’t allow it! – Ayo.
PURE CINEMA
4(+) powerful men in vests walk toward us, the sweat on their massive arms reflecting the blood-red fireball behind them.
A speedboat skims the ocean like an expensive stone. The driver pushes the throttle to the ‘max’, while his other lovely arm silhouettes his attack rifle against a blood-red sky.
Seven coal-black choppers crest over a blood-red sky, their pilots’ bulging arms rippling invisibly in their sleek cockpits.
Three magical movie moments.
But what links them?
None of them have dialogue.*
In PURE CINEMA, there are no words. Only indelible images. Nothing more. Apart from action and sound effects and light.
And music helps.†
See: HAILS OF EMPTY BULLET SHELLS; MASSIVE LOVELY ARMS; QUICKLY ASSEMBLING SNIPER RIFLES; SILENCERS AFFIXED TO THE TOP OF RIFLES; WOMEN IN CLINGY DRESSES STEPPING OUT OF SEXY CARS
* Is that a link? Neither Heinrich Himmler nor Oprah Winfrey are Dutch nationals – Ayo.
† I concur. Images on their own can feel kind of ghostly – like say you’re lying on the floor – the TV’s on but it’s muted – the speaker’s been making a fizzing sound ever since you karate-kicked it – the remote’s out of reach – you’re too bruised to move – a cartoon comes on – and it feels creepy – these happy-looking animals being forced to speak English regardless of their species – but they can’t convey loss – or anything like real pain – their recovery times are really rather fast considering these are quite serious injuries – they seem oblivious to death – the fact that we are dying every second of our lives – so you find yourself in the middle of a soft howl and you let half an hour’s worth of stored-up saliva fall from your mouth – Ayo.
Q
‘Quitting is never acceptable …’
QUITTING
QUITTING is never acceptable in commercial cinema.
In John Irvin’s 1986 crime-syndicate dramedy Raw Deal, FBI chief Harry Shannon (Darren McGavin) tells newly reinstated FBI agent Mark Kaminsky (Arnold Schwarzenegger) that he might quit. Shannon’s legs were shot full of holes during a Mafia assassination attempt by the same people who murdered his son, Blair. Now he’s so demotivated he refuses to even try to walk!
Kaminsky will not accept such moral cowardice: ‘You don’t have to walk, but you have to try like hell.’ He then adds, cannily, ‘Did you ever quit in front of Blair?’ Presumably, FBI chief Harry Shannon never did, b
ecause without emitting so much as a slight grunt he manages to walk several steps before collapsing into Kaminsky’s arms for a hug that is as non-sexual as it is life-affirming.
See: GOALS, USING MEMORIES OF A DECEASED RELATIVE TO HELP FOCUS ON ONE’S; ‘HELL’ AS MINIMUM REQUIRED EFFORT LEVEL
R
‘You swallow the scorpion …’
REALITY
Movies are not REALITY.
In Orson Welles’s 1941 clunker Citizen Kane, we discover that Charles Foster Kane (Orson Welles) could never be happy because he had a sled fetish. How do we know this? Because right before he dies, he says ‘Rosebud’ to his snow globe. Then it starts to snow in his mouth! Next thing we know, a bunch of young people dressed up as old people claim to be able to recall this sicko’s life with photographic accuracy.
In John G. Avildsen’s 1976 slugfest Rocky, a white person becomes a boxing champion!
In Roman Polanski’s 1974 water-shortage saga Chinatown, there isn’t a single scene in an Asian restaurant!
The whole thing is laughable!
But in Polanski’s 1968 pregnancy dramedy Rosemary’s Baby, Guy Woodhouse (John Cassavetes) allows the devil to inseminate his wife so he can get better acting roles.
Finally, something I can believe!
See: SNOW, HIGHLY IMPLAUSIBLE NATURE OF MOUTH
RELUCTANCE
Think of how often a movie HERO displays RELUCTANCE.
The Grip of Film Page 11