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Showing posts with label James Spader. Show all posts
Showing posts with label James Spader. Show all posts

Friday, July 19, 2019

Retro Review: TUFF TURF (1985)


TUFF TURF 
(US - 1985)

Directed by Fritz Kiersch. Written by Jette Rinck. Cast: James Spader, Kim Richards, Paul Mones, Matt Clark, Claudette Nevins, Olivia Barash, Robert Downey Jr., Panchito Gomez, Michael Wyle, Catya Sassoon, Frank McCarthy, Art Evans, Herb Mitchell, Bill Beyers, Lou Fant, Jim Carroll, Jack Mack and the Heart Attack. (R, 112 mins)

For a hot minute from 1986 to 1987 at the tail end of the original Brat Pack era, James Spader established himself as the next William Zabka, whose performances in THE KARATE KID, JUST ONE OF THE GUYS, and BACK TO SCHOOL were instrumental in establishing the template for every smug, bullying '80s teen movie douchebag who came down the pike. Spader's supporting turns in PRETTY IN PINK and LESS THAN ZERO carried on the Zabka tradition but with a more cerebral bent. Where Zabka mastered the portrayal of the asshole jock bully, Spader's prickiness possessed an intelligence and a jaded, erudite malevolence that bordered on sociopathy. Spader ran with that a few years later in Steven Soderbergh's 1989 landmark indie SEX, LIES AND VIDEOTAPE and again in David Cronenberg's controversial 1997 film CRASH. Essentially a career journeyman with an occasional STARGATE blockbuster to his credit, Spader is known more these days for his TV work, which began in 2003 with a stint on THE PRACTICE that was spun off into BOSTON LEGAL, teaming him with William Shatner. Like Shatner, Spader is completely aware of his eccentric "James Spader" persona and is in on the joke, whether it was his brief turn as fill-in Dunder-Mifflin branch manager Robert California on THE OFFICE or in his most steady "James Spader" role yet, the sardonic ex-black ops agent Raymond "Red" Reddington on THE BLACKLIST, soon to be in its seventh season on NBC.






Before making his mark with PRETTY IN PINK, and with a couple of minor supporting roles and some TV credits under his belt, 24-year-old Spader's first starring gig in a feature film came with TUFF TURF. Released in January 1985,  a couple of weeks before Spader's Buddy Repperton-esque teen psycho role in Sean S. Cunningham's THE NEW KIDS, and just out on Blu-ray from Kino Lorber (because physical media is dead), TUFF TURF is ostensibly part of the low-budget high school gang movie craze of the period, like 1982's CLASS OF 1984, 1983's YOUNG WARRIORS, 1984's SAVAGE STREETS, and 1986's 3:15 and DANGEROUSLY CLOSE to name a few. But it quickly stakes its claim as the weirdest of the bunch, with Spader's character introduced shouting "Be Bop a Lula!" as he rides his ten-speed through a mugging, and defuses the situation in an impromptu fashion by shaking a can of soda and spraying it at some punks rolling a guy at a Reseda bus stop. Five minutes into TUFF TURF, and it's already difficult to tell if it's a serious movie and even after watching it, the question remains. Spader is Morgan Hiller, a Connecticut country club preppy who recently relocated to a blue collar area of L.A. after his dad (veteran character actor Matt Clark) lost everything back east when his business collapsed. With his dad driving a cab while studying for the California real estate exam and his mom (Claudette Nevins) riding his ass because he lacks the ambition of his successful toolbag of an older brother Brian (Bill Beyers), the last thing Morgan needs is trouble, but he gets it the next morning on the first day of school, when the punks from the mugging, led by Nick (29-year-old Paul Mones) and his girlfriend Franky (former child actress, '70s Disney star, Paris Hilton aunt, and future REAL HOUSEWIVES OF BEVERLY HILLS reality TV personality Kim Richards), recognize him and see he's the new kid. Morgan keeps tangling with Nick and his goons, who destroy his bike and leave a dead rat in his locker, but he finds a buddy in smartass goofball Jimmy (a pre-fame Robert Downey Jr.) and gradually woos Franky from the vicious clutches of the possessive Nick, which only makes things worse.



It also leads to unexpected comedy, with a seemingly improvised set piece where Morgan and Jimmy take Franky and her friend Ronnie (Olivia Barash) for a joyride in Nick's car and crash a posh Beverly Hills country club. It only gets more strange when Morgan commandeers a piano and sings a maudlin ballad to Franky. There's also a brief appearance by punk icon, poet, and BASKETBALL DIARIES subject Jim Carroll as himself (in the world of TUFF TURF, Downey's Jimmy plays drums in Carroll's band), long scenes of people driving around or one of Franky putting on makeup and trying on outfits for a date with Morgan, and numerous instances of shots where it seems like someone should've said "Cut" before they did. Seriously overlong at 112 minutes, TUFF TURF feels like the cut before the final cut, and likely would've been more consistent and effective at 85 or 90 minutes, without all those static, lingering shots, or the incongruous broad comedy.






The film was directed by Fritz Kiersch, who had a decent-sized hit the previous year with the Stephen King adaptation CHILDREN OF THE CORN. But it's hard telling what to make of the vaguely REBEL WITHOUT A CAUSE-inspired script by one Jette Rinck (an obvious pseudonym further signifying the film's serious James Dean worship; "Jett Rink" is the name of Dean's character in GIANT), which seems like it was the result of two writers--one with a violent gang thriller and the other with a goofy teen comedy--clumsily crashing into each other on the studio lot like they're in an old Reese's Peanut Butter Cup commercial, yelling "Hey, you got your comedy in my thriller!" and "No, you got your thriller in my comedy!" and cobbling the random, scattered pages of the scripts into one. TUFF TURF is a hot mess, the kind of movie where tragedy strikes when an enraged Nick shoots Morgan's dad, sending him into a coma, but it can still end with a fun closing credits sequence where Spader and Downey head to a show and hop onstage to play air sax and mug shamelessly with L.A. regional legends Jack Mack and the Heart Attack. There's also a showdown in an abandoned, ramshackle warehouse and a terrible score by noted record producer Jonathan Elias, who's also credited with "synthesizer realization," arguably the most 1985 movie credit ever. And TUFF TURF's D.P. is renowned Belgian cinematographer Willy Kurant, whose credits include Jean-Luc Godard's MASCULIN FEMININ (1966), Alain Robbe-Grillet's TRANS-EUROP-EXPRESS (1966), Orson Welles' THE IMMORTAL STORY (1968) and, uh, Louis C.K.'s POOTIE TANG (2001). See what I mean? Everything about TUFF TURF is just weird.


TUFF TURF opening in Toledo, OH on 3/1/1985

Friday, February 20, 2015

On DVD/Blu-ray: THE HOMESMAN (2014); V/H/S: VIRAL (2014); and BAD TURN WORSE (2014)


THE HOMESMAN
(France/US - 2014)



In the small frontier town of Loup in the Nebraska Territory in the 1850s, three women have gone insane: Gro Svendsen (Sonja Richter) suffers a breakdown after being unable to conceive a child and watching her husband (David Dencik) throw her just-deceased mother's corpse out in a heavy snowstorm before it starts stinking; Theoline Belknap (Miranda Otto), a mother of three, tosses her newborn baby into an outhouse pit; and 19-year-old Arabella Sours (Grace Gummer) loses her three children over three days to diphtheria. Rev. Dowd (John Lithgow) has decided to send them away to receive special care and treatment at a hospital in Iowa run by Altha Carter (Meryl Streep), the wife of a prominent Methodist minister. The trip is at least five weeks away and the women's husbands (there's also William Fichtner as Theoline's, and Jesse Plemons as Arabella's) are either unable or unwilling to make the journey, so Loup spinster Mary Bee Cuddy (Hilary Swank) volunteers. Cuddy moved to the area from New York, owns a large piece of land, and contributes to the welfare of Loup but is still gossiped about as she's been unable to land a husband. Now resorting to proposing marriage to men strictly as a business deal, the lonely Cuddy is repeatedly turned down for being "too bossy and too plain-looking." Looking for purpose in a life that's left her "uncommonly alone," Cuddy agrees to transport the three women across the Missouri River into Iowa, and finds an unwilling partner in a man calling himself George Briggs (Tommy Lee Jones). A scheming claim jumper, Briggs made some enemies and Cuddy finds him strung up in a noose and left for dead, kept alive only by sheer luck as he's managed to keep the horse holding him there from bolting. Cuddy cuts him down and offers him $300 and a jug of whiskey to help with the journey and provide protection from various threats and obstacles that may arise.


Based on a novel by Glendon Swarthout, THE HOMESMAN was directed and co-written by Jones, and it turns into an interesting companion piece with his 2005 feature directing debut THE THREE BURIALS OF MELQUIADES ESTRADA (also, like THE HOMESMAN, co-produced by unlikely Jones pal Luc Besson). Both films--and tangentially, Jones' 2011 HBO film THE SUNSET LIMITED--share the common themes of death, honor, and redemption, but THE HOMESMAN is another beast altogether. Stunningly shot by Rodrigo Prieto, it finds Jones in auteur mode, with nearly every shot intricately staged and precisely framed as exquisite works of art. There's a Clint Eastwood aesthetic in his depiction of the west that recalls UNFORGIVEN (1992), and Jones not only takes time to build the characters but also, like Kelly Reichardt's minimalist MEEK'S CUTOFF (2011), is a stickler for harsh realism. THE HOMESMAN dives into the arduous obstacles and unpleasant realities of frontier life, the very realities--disease, isolation, environment--that turns three women into "cuckoo clocks" and the five-week journey into a months-long ordeal. This is an offbeat and thoroughly unique western, anchored by two terrific performances from Jones and Swank, and it's a film that would seem to have been a natural hit with audiences until you actually see it. Between this and THREE BURIALS, Jones has proven himself to be a gifted storyteller and a challenging filmmaker unconcerned with commercial appeal, and a lot of THE HOMESMAN is just too weird to play on 3000 screens and be the next OPEN RANGE or APPALOOSA sleeper hit (it's probably the best western since John Hillcoat's brutal 2006 western THE PROPOSITION). Lionsgate didn't seem to have any idea what to do with this, releasing it under its arthouse Roadside Attractions banner and only rolling it out on 220 screens. From the situations that arise--namely a whopper of an unexpected plot turn that completely shifts gears about 2/3 of the way in, and Briggs' ultimately surreal and nightmarish run-in with an erudite and dismissive hotelier (James Spader)--and the sly way Marco Beltrami's score vacillates between the grand, sweeping accompaniment you'd expect to hear in a John Ford western to the eerie and unsettlingly discordant piano and percussion sounds during the darker moments, THE HOMESMAN is a western that consistently defies genre expectations while utilizing standard tropes like Briggs' eventual redemption still not altering his status as an outsider--think of the way John Wayne's Ethan Edwards stands outside that door at the end of THE SEARCHERS, an unsympathetic and violent man who finds salvation in bringing his family back together but still remains distanced from that family, always and forever an outcast no matter how heroic he may be. Jones' George Briggs remains an enigma--it's clearly not his real name and we never learn about his obvious outlaw past, but he does what he's been paid to do and the journey, with all its ugly brutality and outright horror, is his redemption. Therein lies Jones' niche in the western genre: he's a John Ford purist at heart in a nihilistic Sam Peckinpah world. Also with Barry Corbin, Tim Blake Nelson, and Hailee Steinfeld (TRUE GRIT), THE HOMESMAN is bold and uncompromising, quirky and unpredictable, and one of the great undiscovered films of 2014. (R, 123 mins)


V/H/S: VIRAL
(US - 2014)



The third entry in the horror anthology franchise is not only the worst, but it also might be the worst portmanteau since that pair of slapped-together GEORGE A. ROMERO PRESENTS DEADTIME STORIES releases from a few years ago. Making its predecessors look like DEAD OF NIGHT and CREEPSHOW by comparison, V/H/S: VIRAL is a sloppy, incoherent, unwatchable disaster, with a wraparound story that has nothing to do with the events we see in the stories that unfold. DEADGIRL director Marcel Sarmiento handled the wraparound, "Vicious Circles," which deals with a would-be viral video dickbag who's fighting with his girlfriend but splits to follow a car chase on TV that speeds by his house. "Dante the Great," directed by Gregg Bishop (DANCE OF THE DEAD), is about an egomaniacal, murderous magician (Justin Welborn), whose magic is powered by his haunted cloak, and is notable for the land-speed record it sets in ditching its faux-doc concept to go for straight narrative. TIMECRIMES director Nacho Vigalondo helms "Parallel Monsters," where a guy (Gustavo Salmerin) encounters his doppelganger, at which time they agree to swap universes for 15 minutes but it's hardly a harmless visit. Justin Benson and Aaron Morehead direct "Bonestorm," where a bunch of skaters head to Tijuana and run afoul of a south-of-the-border death cult, with the entire segment shot almost exclusively with helmet-cams with occasional switches to first-person shooter POV shots. A fifth segment, "Gorgeous Vortex," was cut from the film just before release, with the explanation being that it slowed down the pace and changed the tone of the project, but it's included on the DVD and Blu-ray as a bonus segment at the conclusion of the actual film. Directed by Todd Lincoln (the completely forgettable THE APPARITION), it's an impenetrable, bizarre, dialogue-free fever dream that's completely pretentious bullshit that doesn't get a pass simply because it seems to be a little more high-minded than the idiocy that made the final cut. A photo-finish with RAZE as 2014's worst film and the absolute nadir of the hipster horror movement, which is pretty much that last thing I have to say about V/H/S: VIRAL. You win, fanboys. I'm out. (R, 81 mins)





BAD TURN WORSE
(US - 2014)


An intermittently interesting Texas noir, BAD TURN WORSE has moments where it looks like it'll be another twisty BLUE RUIN, but it doesn't know when to shut up and can't avoid belaboring its points. For example, when you've got a main character handing a copy of Jim Thompson's South of Heaven to another character and telling them "You've gotta read this!" at the five-minute mark, you might be trying a little too hard. A thriller with teenage protagonists that too often feels like it was written by teenagers--which is a shame because who doesn't want to love a bleak, cynical noir written by someone named Dutch Southern?--BAD TURN WORSE works in a love triangle, a haphazardly-planned heist, money-laundering, and $20,000 belonging to a Corpus Christi gangster but still ends up with the inevitable showdown at an abandoned cotton gin where the chief villain spends an inordinate amount of time dropping snide bon mots on the hapless protagonists as he spells out his master plan instead of just dealing with the issue at hand. In a small and mostly dead Texas town, Bobby (Jeremy Allen White) and his bookworm friend Sue (Mackenzie Davis)--she's the Jim Thompson superfan--can't wait to go to college, much to the disappointment of Sue's boyfriend BJ (Logan Huffman), who's bummed about losing his friends and acting out in the worst way possible. Like, stealing $20K from the safe of small-time criminal Giff (Mark Pellegrino), who runs a cotton gin owned by ruthless, big-city crime lord Big Red (William Devane). BJ blows the whole $20K on going to the city for the weekend and making it rain, showing Bobby and Sue a good time before they leave. But when they return on Monday, Giff wants to know who took the money, and to protect BJ, Bobby takes the blame. Giff wants his money back and forces the trio to steal another $20,000 from a money-laundering drop used by Big Red's guys. Needless to say, there's one double-cross after another, especially once BJ discovers that Bobby and Sue have been carrying on a clandestine fling behind his back.


Writer Southern and sibling directors Zeke & Simon Hawkins do a commendable job of establishing the downbeat atmosphere of this hellhole of a town (the film played the festival circuit a year before its eventual release, under its original title, WE GOTTA GET OUT OF THIS PLACE). It's the kind of place where all the businesses are boarded up, everyone works at Giff's cotton gin, and there's little business opportunities except very small-time crime (one suspects the copper wire business is booming). Even the sheriff (Jon Gries) is on Giff's payroll. Sue and Bobby are often chided by the townies for "goin' off to college," and even Bobby's mom dismisses his newfound educational aspirations with "You're not a college kid...you're a cotton kid," almost like she knows he's only going so he can be close to Sue (that's also why BJ thinks he's going). Sue is obviously too smart for BJ (and Bobby, for that matter), but unlike BJ, she never intended them to be forever. It's a depressing, dead-end town where dreams died at least a generation back, and it's the perfect setting for such a story. It's good for about 2/3 of the way, but in the final act, everything collapses as the filmmakers resort to piling on the double-crosses and have Pellegrino's Giff stop just short of donning a monocle and twirling a mustache to show how nefarious he is. Pellegrino has some great moments where he gets to spit out some memorable dialogue ("You sure like to gamble for someone with such a shit pokerface," he tells Bobby, and when he gives Bobby an ultimatum after threatening to have his goons rape Sue, he promises "I'm gonna do more to your sweet pea than hollow out her heinie-hole") but Southern has the character behave too inconsistently, careening wildly from criminal mastermind to none-too-bright doofus depending on what the story needs him to be in any given scene. Devane makes an impression with his too-brief screen time, showing up to deal with Giff and lay down the law in a bathrobe and slippers. BAD TURN WORSE is OK, but it could've easily been something a little more if the filmmakers didn't feel the need to oversell, overplot, and overexplain, like they didn't trust their audience to process the ambiguities or connect the dots. Certainly, any fan of Thompson's brand of hard-boiled pulp fiction could've made the homage-to-Thompson connection without having it stated by the characters time and again throughout. Well-intentioned and occasionally quite good, BAD TURN WORSE is more like Target Just Missed. (Unrated, 92 mins)