The buddy movie will never die. It has hit heady highs with Butch and Sundance, and deep, deep lows with Jay Leno and Mr Miyagi. Take two guys, or two gals, or a guy and a monkey, and put them together in circumstances that mean they have to stay together. Make sure they loathe each other, or at the very least make sure they're very different characters. Now watch them bounce off each other. That's it. Oh sure, you need a plot, and you need supporting characters, and maybe a love interest or whatever. But that's usually just window dressing. The buddy movie lives or dies on the lead pairing. If they don't strike sparks off one another, you're fucked and the movie will be a terrible stain on humanity.
Midnight Run is my favourite buddy movie and a masterclass in screen chemistry.
This is the trailer.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=B1_N28DA3gY&feature=related
Very little of that dialogue is actually in the final cut, and that minute and a half itself is pretty unrepresentative of the film. To be honest, you'd be hard pressed to find a minute and a half of the movie where someone isn't shouting "FUCK" at the top of their lungs, so you can kind of understand that. Anyway, Midnight Run isn't the kind of film you can sell on the basis of the plot, or a few clips.
Robert De Niro plays Jack Walsh, an ex-cop kicked off the force by corrupt colleagues, and who now scrapes a living as a bounty hunter dragging in scumbags he used to arrest for the wonderfully low-rent bail bondsman Moscone, played by the incomparably sleazy Joe Pantaliano. Charles Grodin plays Jonathan Mardukis, an accountant who embezzled millions of dollars from mobster Jimmy Serrano and then gave it all to charity before sensibly going on the run. Walsh is sent after Mardukis, and has to get to him from New York to an LA jail before the mob, the FBI, or a rival bounty hunter gets to him first. You will be unsurprised to learn that Mardukis and Walsh are not thrilled with each other's company. And that's the plot. They have chases, gun fights, fist-fights, helicopters attacking them and so on on the way, but all that's besides the point. The reason to watch this film is the pairing of Grodin and De Niro.
It is not, at first sight, an appetising prospect. "From the director who bought you Gigli, and the writer of The Whole Ten Yards, comes a comedy starring that well-known comic genius Robert De Niro, alongside the guy from those movies about a St. Bernard". And since both Robin Wiliams and Cher were once mooted for the role of Mardukis, the film could have been even
less enticing. It's certainly true that the film isn't perfect. This isn't a masterpiece of cinema verite, nor is it emblematic of sea-change in the art form; it has almost no ambitions beyond being a buddy movie, some scenes don't work, the direction is often merely workmanlike, and I have difficulty believing that De Niro can kill a helicopter with a handgun.
And yet.
It's been one of my favourite movies for almost twenty years, ever since I first hired it from the tiny VHS video rental place on the way home from school. The chemistry between De Niro and Grodin is one of the best I've ever seen, and is all the more remarkable because it's a chemistry that exists not only between two actors obviously enjoying themselves, but also between the characters they play. Too many buddy movies have their lead pair dynamic revolve around artificial one-liners, knowing winks to the audience and a partnership made up of one cool guy and one comedy doofus. If Midnight Run were made today I'm sure they'd get someone like Steve Carrell to play Mardukis, and he'd be egged on by an eager director to present a neurotic hive of mannerisms and self-conscious
schtick, while Walsh would be played by, I dunno, The Rock or Nic Cage, gurning frustration to the camera at every opportunity. Lessons about friendship would no doubt be learned. Instead, we get Grodin and De Niro, and every single exchange they have in the movie seems to spring naturally from the characters they portray: neither has been designated by a scriptwriter as 'the funny one', and neither is guilty of ever trying to
force a laugh out of their odd couple dynamic.
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http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oLyz_JWJCJI
Improvising many of his scenes with Grodin (at one point looking
right at the camera and opining "what a pain in the ass this guy is"), the two leads bounce brilliantly off each other (De Niro cites it as one of the movies he most enjoyed making), Grodin constantly nagging De Niro into ulcerating anger. Grodin picks at De Niro
every single second they're together, berating his measly tipping, his smoking, his lack of sensitivity and his furious silences. And De Niro responds with some of his best work on the screen, managing to make Walsh both hilarious and poignant, furious and bedraggled, a man clinging to his dignity and his incorruptibility in a business even he admits is "fucking miserable". Brest said later that he would leave the camera running when a scene was done just in case De Niro added a little touch, like the watch, a tic that pays off near the end in an entirely improvised scene in a boxcar.
I said earlier that the movies action scenes are kind of besides the point, but they're still pretty
good action scenes.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=slmtDntOA-khttp://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VwiqA35sD9o&feature=related
The supporting cast is also fantastic. Dennis Farina, a real life ex-cop and tough guy, is both chillingly cruel and hilariously pissed off as Jimmy Seranno, the mobster Mardukis ripped off; Yaphet Kotto as Agent Alonso Mosley; Pantaliano as Eddie Moscone, a two faced shyster who would sell his own mother if he could turn a profit on the deal; John Ashton, a thick, unshaven slob who dogs Walsh's tail throughout the movie. The two asshole mobsters Serrano put on Walsh deserve a mention as well, affectionately known by their boss as moron number 1 and moron number 2. They even got Jack Kehoe in to play a role, a sure sign that someone wants quality in every part, no matter how tiny.
There are so many little moments of delight it's tough to pick a favourite. De Niro turning to camera and flashing an FBI badge after filching it from Kotto's pocket; the furrowed brow of Kotto as he surveys the wreckage left by a car chase through the desert that leaves a count of trashed Police cruisers that would not shame a Burt Reynolds movie; "fistophobia". And then there is the swearing. If you've ever seen the film on TV the chances are some fuckwit has dubbed over and cut out most of the incredibly brilliant swearing that goes on in this movie, an act I consider to be artistic vandalism akin to spraying DWAYNE 4 SHARONDA in neon yellow paint on a Carravaggio. This is fifth dan, black belt swearing, of the kind rarely seen outside of The Sopranos or a Martin Scorcese movie. Profanity spews forth from every character as freely and naturally as carbon dioxide is exhaled from the mouths of ordinary mortals. It's wonderful.
As I said earlier, this isn't a masterpiece of cinematic style or a visionary film from an auteur at the top of his game. It's just a buddy movie. But in their exchanges and the hard-earned moments of connection and understanding between the two, De Niro and Grodin manage to engage your senses of empathy and humour at the same time. The film is not an Ibsenesque tragedy, and ends as you probably suspected it would, but the happy ending has been earned by the sterling character work from the its two leads, and rings true. I've seen the film many times, and every time it's been like a reunion with an old friend, clinking a beer together and then settling back into an easy chair to bask in the comforting glow of company you know will neither disappoint nor bore you. It will never start a cult of cinema showings where the audience dress as their favourite characters, and it will not inspire a wave of young film-making Turks to follow in its footsteps.
It
is just a buddy movie, after all. Sometimes, that's all you want.
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I'd love to do something for this, but I don't know what films are available on Netflix in the US. Is Layer Cake on the Instant Watch? 'cos I love that film (and not just to perve on Daniel Craig).
It isn't .
I'm really glad you liked Shane. My write up for it is going to let me finally touch upon discussion of PTSD and the post war western that I've been threatening promising to write for Jacob. And Layer Cake isn't currently available.
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I recommend doing it after the person has presented their film. Their writing may have interesting insights.
maybe i'm streaming terrible dj right now if i am its here
Dude
....
Spoilers!
You forgot to mention the most important lesson
I gotta make a choice soon, there's so many good movies on netflix. the bastards.
That was my first choice... I noticed it wasn't there so I moved to Die Hard.
If Die Hard gets removed before week 5, I think I'm going to do Reindeer Games, or Phantoms
I'd like to officially replace it with either Reindeer Games, or Ghost Dog: Way of the Samurai, I'll let the OP decide
It may be renewed. It has at least once before. So we can hold off on a decision till it gets closer.
Because that clever solution didn't occur to me. Let me work that out.
4 movies I'd love to rewatch, and 4 that I either wanted to watch or haven't heard of.
http://movies.netflix.com/WiMovie/Chinatown/374030?trkid=4213507
The cramped, dirty office, lit by sunlight filtered through Venetian blinds. The cigarette smoke coiling lazily through the blades of a ceiling fan. The rumpled trenchcoat and fedora. The mouthy secretary. The mysterious, classy dame. The gumshoe.
Even people who've never watched a private eye movie in their life know the drill. After seventy years the little tics and visual shorthands left over from the great heyday of hardboiled detective fiction still saturate our pop culture, surfacing in everything from kids' cartoons to SNL sketches. They've been done, redone, examined, turned over, refuted, parodied, laughed at, revived - the whole long arc that any really good idea takes as it passes through a thousand hands over the years. That's the thing with good ideas; they're perennial. They keep turning up, and they stay fresh.
So in one sense, you already know Chinatown. But make no mistake - you're in for an experience as fresh, original and bracing as if it had come out yesterday. Chinatown is a movie that's full of good ideas.
Jack Nicholson stars as Jake Gittes (pronounced "gittys"), private eye in Depression-era LA. He's a little different from the private eyes you might be used to. He's not a loner; he employs a large staff of competent professionals to handle the drudge work of tails and photographing. He's not a rumpled, heartbroken Bogart character; Gittes keeps a clean, spacious, modern office, dresses to the nines, and moves through his environment with an easy, extroverted confidence. He's a smart, worldly guy who likes what he does for a living and is pretty sure he's got it all figured out.
Is it a spoiler to say that he doesn't?
It starts, of course, with the dame. A woman calling herself Evelyn Mulwray comes into Gittes' office to hire him to tail her husband Hollis and find proof of his infidelity. Gittes, an old hand at these things, tries several times to turn her away. "Let sleeping dogs lie," he advises. He really seems to believe that it's better that way. Of course, when she pulls out the giant checkbook...
The husband will not strike you as the unfaithful type. He's a much older man, tall and gangly, and seems to lead an incredibly boring life. He gives a lecture at City Hall about the dangers of a new proposed dam - it seems Hollis is the county water commissioner - and then spends the night visiting drainage ditches and dry riverbeds all over town before going to bed in his home at a respectable hour.
Jake is good at his job, though, and..."determined" isn't the right word. It's more businesslike than that. Let's say "persistent." After some clever tricks with a stopwatch and the judicious use of a telephoto lens, Jake does catch the husband with a young woman. The photos create a scandal; the man's name is dragged through the mud, while Jake Gittes gleefully passes his business cards to the press.
And then a woman, a complete stranger, turns up at Jake's office, demanding to know who hired him to follow her poor husband.
Whoops.
That's where Chinatown really kicks off, and the less said about the twisty, complicated plot that ensues, the better. It's a really good plot, a pleasure to follow, with clues that lead seamlessly into a complicated web of corruption and, ultimately, the blackest human evil. As a mystery, Chinatown is almost unparalleled in the craftsmanship of its construction. Raymond Chandler used to joke that whenever he was stuck on a difficult chapter, or had trouble getting his hero to the next stage of the story, he'd have a couple tough guys kick down the door and start shooting. As you watch, notice how rarely that happens in Chinatown. Jake Gittes may not be as noble or incorruptible as the classic private eyes - although he's more noble and incorruptible than he looks - but he's every bit as competent if not more so. He's in every scene of the movie, and the story always moves ahead because of his tenacity and facility at unraveling the maze that's been set before him.
That's why it's all the more distressing that, good as he is, Jake may be up against a problem that even he can't solve. The movie's title is a reference to something the screenwriter, Robert Towne, was told by a former LAPD officer; back in the old days, unsure of how best to deal with the complexities of Chinatown, the police opted to do "as little as possible." It's a sad lesson in pragmatic cynicism that Jake Gittes has learned before, and will learn again in the movie's legendary, eminently quotable "downer" ending.
Largely because of that ending, Chinatown has a formidable reputation as a classic, but I want to emphasize that that doesn't mean it's not fun. It is! There are fights, chases, and menace a'plenty. Jake's journey takes him from a midnight confrontation with a genuinely chilling pair of hired killers -
- to the sunlit portico of the most powerful man in LA -
- to, of course, the bed of a beautiful woman. I think because Chinatown was made in the 1970s and directed by a European, some people blithely assume it is somehow satirizing or deconstructing the hardboiled detective genre. I don't think that's true at all. Chinatown unironically delivers all the pleasures of that kind of story; it just does them really well, with a piercing intelligence, a dash of urbane wit, and a painstaking, craftsmanlike dedication to authenticity and historicity.
The director, Roman Polanski, is a contentious subject. I won't say anything except to note that missing this movie because of him is a huge mistake, and Polanski is only one of the reasons it works so well. The story comes to us courtesy of Robert Towne, who also wrote Bonnie and Clyde and co-wrote The Parallax View, the beautiful photography is by Robert Alonzo, and the music was composed by none other than the great Jerry Goldsmith. For whatever reason, all of these men turned in some of the best work of their careers here.
Let them, and Jake Gittes, take you on a ride to Chinatown. It's unforgettable.
It's also interesting that the film was made around the time Nicholson found out the truth about his parentage (he was raised thinking that his grandparents were his parents, and his mother was his sister, not exactly an unknown practice). Which, if you've watched the movie, adds some interesting metatext to some of the scenes.
This is what is referred to in screenwriters' circles as "the throughline." It's not the plot; it's what the movie is about. The Godfather trilogy's plot is how the son of a prominent mafioso rises to power in a dangerous world of crime and betrayal. The Godfather's throughline, however, is the notion of "family" and how that can be perverted in pursuit of ideals. The throughline is what defines a film or a character. It's the intangible humanity that allows the audience to engage in a meaningful way. Not every movie has a throughline; however, all great movies do.
Towne's throughline for Chinatown came organically one day as he was driving around the hilly coast of Southern California. He grew up there and spent time with his grandfather, who had an orange orchard, which was not at all uncommon in those days. Almost all of America's oranges came from California at that time, and the Tuscanesque topography of the greater Los Angeles area was less the bustling metropolis we know today and more of a breezy agrarian mecca of horticulture. Towne drove through the hills of the ever-modernizing L.A. outskirts and had the thought, "What ever happened to the oranges?" He was suddenly reminded of his childhood with his grandfather and how no matter where you went in Southern California, you could always count on a cool Pacific breeze blowing the scent of the citrus orchards up the coast and into your nostrils. It sounds lovely. But now, thirty years on, Towne couldn't remember the last time he smelled oranges in the air of Los Angeles. The more the thought about it, he couldn't remember the last time he smelled anything but car exhaust and the fumes from constant construction. The city was no longer a dusty little farm-and-ranch town, but one of the top five largest cities in the US. Soon, it would be in the top two.
And made him entirely saddened. That wonderful reminder of his childhood was gone forever, and not only would he not experience it ever again, but no one would. That part of L.A. was in the past, and not welcome in the cosmopolitan future of the city. The place had lost something simple and pure and never gave it a second thought. Progress was the future, and that future would be tamed and shaped by men who believed in it. The passive innocence of yesteryear wasn't just forsaken, it was forgotten, or maybe even omitted out of purpose. Modern living didn't have a place for anything delicate, or at least not for something delicate that could be a communal and persisting experience. Modernity was roughhewn and ruthless and unforgiving, and those who were to succeed in that environment had to play by those rules better than everyone else.
Innocence wasn't lost. Innocence had been taken, used up, corrupted, tossed aside, and forgotten in the way people are careless about things they find no value in.
And then Robert Towne wrote Chinatown.
I've watched Chinatown twice and both times I wasn't entirely able to follow the labyrinthine plot.
I like the line in the mostly disappointing sequel, The Two Jakes: "I'm the leper with the most fingers." It neatly sums up Gittes' status in LA.
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Part of the scam involved Mulwray's deputy (Higgins!) who was causing water to be diverted into the ocean to help fake the drought.
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