Diane Franklin appeared in a slew of memorable 1980s films. These included her breakout role as Karen in the surprisingly meaningful teen sex comedy, The Last American Virgin, in 1982.
That same year, she delivered a haunting performance as the doomed eldest daughter of the quasi-fictional Montelli family in Amityville II: the Possession. This film was loosely based on the infamous Amityville, New York murders of 1974.
Oh, also: Better Off Dead (1985), TerrorVision (1986), and Bill & Ted’s Excellent Adventure (1989).
In this interview with Ray’s Happy Hour-ish podcast/YouTube channel, Ms. Franklin discusses some of her iconic roles, storytelling in the movies, and 1980s pop culture. She also talks about her recent and upcoming film projects. Enjoy.
A crime film starring Brad Pitt, James Gandolfini, and Ray Liotta. This is going to be good, I thought.
I love crime films and fiction, after all: The Godfather trilogy, The Sopranos, the novels of Michael Connelly.
But I didn’t like this “neo-noir” movie. Not at all, in fact.
I don’t mind a bit of “noir”. But noir, in its quest to be endlessly and relentlessly dark, can sometimes lapse into self-parody.
That’s what Killing Them Softly is. Despite the all-star lineup, this movie is hampered by banal dialogue, bad artistic sensibilities, and an aimless storyline.
Let’s start with the dialogue. I don’t mind a few F-bombs. The Sopranos was full of them. But there were entire strings of dialogue in Killing Them Softly in which “fuck” was the most frequent word. That gets boring after awhile—and it usually means lazy scriptwriting.
Likewise, I’m not politically correct. (Read some of my other blog posts.) I’m not a “sensitive guy” or a “male feminist”. I attended high school and played boys’ sports in the politically incorrect 1980s. I’ve heard my share of locker room talk.
I don’t, however, need a film scene in which two male characters ramble on forever about women’s genitalia. There was more than one scene like that in Killing Them Softly.
The setting is dreary. I mean dreary. This is a movie shot in a world where the sun never shines. (I’m sure that was intentional, part of the self-consciously overdone “noir” effect.)
But there’s little plot to fit inside the grim scenery. The plot just goes from one violent and/or depressing scene to the next. There are no discernible stakes. It’s all nonstop, chaotic bloodshed and depravity that don’t really go anywhere. What’s the point?
There is not a single likable character. This means that there is no one to root for.
A movie about horrible people, and only horrible people. Who cares if they all die? I certainly didn’t. (That might make the movie end sooner, I thought.)
Dark themes and storylines (horror, crime, war, etc.) only work if there is an element of redemption. There has to be good struggling against the evil. There has to be a glimmer of hope. There has to be at least one character that the audience can become invested in.
Wrong Turn has at least two protagonists—a college student and her father—whom the viewer is inclined to care about. Wrong Turn has moments of extreme depravity, but also moments of nobility and heroism. By the end of Wrong Turn, you’re rooting for the college student and her dad. You want them to survive their ordeal.
There is no nobility or heroism in Killing Them Softly. It’s just a slog through the mud of human existence. (Please don’t watch this movie if you’re already feeling down about the state of the world.)
There is one bright spot, and this may be the only bright spot. According to Wikipedia, the original director’s cut of Killing Them Softly was more than 150 minutes (2.5 hours) in length. We can be grateful that they trimmed the final version to only 97 minutes. But it was still 97 minutes too long.
A group of progressive-minded college students from the city visit a small town in Virginia, with the aim of hiking the Appalachian Trail.
What could possibly go wrong?
The town folk aren’t too friendly, to begin with. There are Confederate flags all over the place. The people seem clannish. And one of the college students seems determined to pick a fight with the locals.
But all of the locals insistently warn the college kids, over and over again, to stick to the tourist route when hiking the trail.
And don’t go up the mountain!
As is always the case in horror movies, though, the protagonists don’t follow sensible advice. Hijinks ensure.
This is a reboot of an earlier film by the same name, which I also saw many years ago. The new reboot, starring Charlotte Vega and Matthew Modine, is better, and more complex.
Reboot or not, the basic idea itself is not original, anyway. If you’ve read Deliverance (or seen the movie), you’ll recognize the setup. A 1981 film called Southern Comfort used a version of the same premise. (Only in that film, the victims of the backwoods brutality were National Guardsmen.)
The conflict between the city and the country is as old as civilization, and certainly as old as America. It is especially acute now, in the midst of the culture wars.
What this movie was not—to its credit—was a simplistic put-down of Southerners or country people. There is a lot more going on than that. Before the end of the movie, we also discover that at least one of the “liberal” college students lacks any sense of integrity when the chips are down.
There are some major plot holes toward the end of the film. But they’re forgivable in the context of an overall plot that is already farfetched.
This is definitely not a boring movie, even if it’s a less than perfect one.
Warning for sensitive/younger viewers: There is no explicit sex, but there is plenty of violence that is often painful to watch. How could there not be, in a movie like this?
The year was 1993. Bill Clinton was president. Almost no one had heard of the Internet yet. (I certainly hadn’t.) Most cars still had cassette decks. And life was much, much simpler than it is today.
But there were plenty of sinister goings-on in the movies. Released in September of 1993, Kalifornia is a road thriller movie starring Brad Pitt, Juliette Lewis, David Duchovny, and Michelle Forbes. It’s one worth watching, even though it got lost amid the sea of good movies to come out around that time. (The 1990s was a good decade for film, on balance.)
Here’s the set-up: A graduate student (Duchovny) and his girlfriend (Forbes) plan to drive from Louisville, Kentucky to Los Angeles. Along the way, they will photograph famous murder sites. (There’s a book deal in the works.)
The problem? They are short on funds. So they place a ride share ad in their campus newspaper. No Craigs List in 1993, alas.
Who should answer the ad but Early Grayce (Pitt), a sociopathic, homicidal parolee, and his developmentally impaired girlfriend, Adele Corners (Lewis). The odd couple begin their cross-country ride, and bad things predictably happen.
Say what you will about Brad Pitt, but the guy is a good actor. He is thoroughly convincing as a sinister redneck outlaw. We haven’t seen much of Juliette Lewis in a while, but she’s good in this movie, too. The following year, Lewis would play a similar role in Natural Born Killers, as the cold-blooded love interest of mass murderer Mickey Knox (Woody Harrelson).
(Speaking of Natural Born Killers: I watched that movie shortly after it came out in 1994, and I found it to be one of the most overrated films of the 1990s.)
Kalifornia, by contrast, is a now mostly forgotten gem. If you’re in the mood for something dark and suspenseful from the Clinton years, skip Natural Born Killers, and give Kalifornia a try.
I watched the Bong Jun-ho movie Parasite last week.
I purchased this movie on blind faith—-or rather, the recommendation of a trusted store clerk at Best Buy. Sometimes I do that. Throw the dice.
At first I thought that Parasite was going to be some kind of monster movie. Then, about twenty minutes in, I thought, “Oh, a light comedy.”
And then Parasite turns into something else entirely.
One thing I’ve noticed with the novels of Haruki Murakami: Asian stories often go in directions that are unexpected for Western audiences. Parasite is like that. This is unlike any movie you’ve ever seen.
Parasite is categorized as a black comedy thriller, and I suppose that’s as good a description as any. This movie is alternately sad, suspenseful, and hilarious. You don’t want to like many of the characters….but you just can’t help empathizing with them.
There are a few plot holes and jump-the-shark moments in Parasite, but they’re mostly forgivable. Parasite grabs hold of you, and pulls you into an alternate reality for more than two hours.
You’ll come out a little off-kilter. This is a movie that lingers with you for a few days.
I finally got around to watching 1917 last night. This is going to be a very quick review, with one minor spoiler.
1917 is the story of two World War I British soldiers who set off across no-man’s land and German-occupied territory to deliver an important message to a British officer. Not far into the film, one of them is killed. (That’s the spoiler; and I’ll explain in a moment why it was necessary.)
As is usual with journey-based stories, things happen along the way. Obstacles are met and overcome. That’s what keeps you watching.
I would give 1917 a mixed review. The film is, on one hand, visually stunning. The journey through no-man’s land is appropriately bleak and gruesome. I’ve read many nonfiction accounts of World War I trench warfare. 1917 seems to achieve some historical accuracy, and it certainly achieves realism.
The problem, however, is that a story of one soldier walking across the French countryside doesn’t quite have the narrative drive needed to support a movie of almost 2 hours (119 minutes). The adventures that the main character, Lance Corporal William “Will” Schofield (George MacKay) experiences aren’t connected to any central storyline. As a result, they seem episodic and often disjointed.
1917 definitely comes up short when compared to similar “journey through the battlefield” films like Fury and Saving Private Ryan. Fury is the story of an entire World War II tank crew, their interactions, and their final act of self-sacrificing heroism. Saving Private Ryan is a complex movie with multiple storylines and richly developed characters.
The Will of 1917 completes his mission…sort of. But he doesn’t really do anything heroic, and he doesn’t change. Also, for most of the movie, he has no one to interact with. This movie therefore often devolves into seemingly random scenes of Will walking alone for long stretches, dodging this or that, observing this or that.
It might be unfair to compare a WWI movie like 1917 to modern-day World War II classics like Saving Private Ryan or Fury. The Second World War, after all, is widely regarded as a heroic struggle. Most Americans think of Eisenhower and George Marshall as noble men. The World War II generation—now sadly passing from the scene—is our “Greatest Generation”.
World War I, by contrast, was a vast waste of lives and resources that should never have been waged by either side. World War I wasn’t a moral crusade against the Nazis. It was a bloodbath with unclear aims and causes, waged against the Kaiser’s Germany and the Austro-Hungarian Empire over the assassination of an archduke.
That could be part of the reason why 1917 falls short of Fury and Saving Private Ryan. When there are no real villains, there are often no real heroes, either.
Also, American audiences in particular are less connected to World War I as a film topic. Whereas many of us grew up hearing firsthand accounts of World War II from our parents and grandparents, World War I is a distant conflict that relatively few Americans participated in. (I have met many, many World War II veterans in my lifetime. I have never met a single veteran of the First World War. And many of them would have been alive during my younger years.) A movie about World War I therefore must bring a lot to the table in order to draw us in.
1917, in summary, is not a bad movie. But nor is it one that you can’t afford to miss.
I watched The Howling (1981) tonight. This is one of a handful of enduring werewolf films that came out in the early 1980s.
Here’s the setup: After a television newswoman (Dee Wallace) has a harrowing experience with a serial killer, she goes to a mountain resort to recover. The problem? The locals are all werewolves. Predictable hijinks ensue.
This movie is almost 40 years old, and well…it shows. The soundtrack sounds like elevator music. The choreography is dated. When blood splatters (as it often does in werewolf movies), it looks like something from a can marked Sherwin-Williams.
Nevertheless, there are some genuinely creepy scenes in this movie. One of the strengths of The Howling (noted even at the time) was the makeup artistry of Rob Bottin. The werewolves in this movie do look real, even if the blood doesn’t.
Strong performances in this film by Dee Wallace, as well as the late Christopher Stone and the late Elisabeth Brooks.
This movie does, nevertheless, contain a few clichés that would be best avoided by a savvy filmmaker approaching this subject in the modern era. For example: two metamorphosing werewolves having explicit sex. This would be hard to do convincingly even with today’s CGI technology. It was really hard in 1981, and should not have been attempted, in this viewer’s opinion.
This is not a bad movie, but it isn’t a particularly memorable one, either. Among werewolf films of that era, I much prefer An American Werewolf in London, which was released the same year.
John Brown (1800 – 1859) is remembered today mostly for his attack on Harper’s Ferry, Virginia. The attack ended with Brown’s arrest, conviction, and hanging.
Before Harper’s Ferry, though, John Brown was also involved in the troubles in Kansas. During the 1850s, pro-slavery southerners clashed with anti-slavery free soilers. The results were often bloody—hence the term, “Bleeding Kansas”. The violence in Kansas never really extinguished itself; it spilled into the larger violence of the U.S. Civil War.
While in Kansas, Brown carried out operations with his own small militia group. Brown was fueled by a mixture of abolitionist fervor, religious zeal, and (probably) mental illness. Stark egotism was also a factor. Brown occasionally freed slaves. But mostly he killed whites whom he deemed guilty of association with slavery—sometimes rightly, and sometimes wrongly.
John Brown was—-in some ways—not unlike the violent white progressives of modern times, who foist themselves on Black-dominated groups like Black Lives Matter, often for purposes of their own agendas and their own self-aggrandizement. For this reason alone, I was extremely skeptical of The Good Lord Bird, a historical miniseries about the latter days of John Brown. This is an election year, and I figured that The Good Lord Bird would be some kind of leftwing Hollywood agitprop.
Having watched the first two episodes, I am happily surprised. The series is actually quite good, and not overtly political.
The Good Lord Bird is told from the perspective of Henry Shackleford, a fictional escaped slave who joins Brown’s militia operations with mixed emotions. We get the sense that Shackleford just wants to get on with his life, but Brown is determined to draft him into a higher spiritual/political cause.
Ethan Hawke is cast as John Brown. Having read several biographies of the real John Brown, I don’t find Hawke completely convincing. I don’t fault Hawke for falling short here. John Brown would be an extremely difficult role for any actor.
John Brown, moreover, isn’t really the star of The Good Lord Bird. Despite the weightiness of this historical period, the miniseries is best described as a coming-of-age drama set against the backdrop of American history. Henry Shackleford (played by the young actor Joshua Caleb Johnson) is the real star of The Good Lord Bird.
In the second episode of the miniseries, Shackleford disguises himself as a young woman in order to make his way through pro-slavery territory with another escaped slave. The two are diverted to a town that is a staunch pro-slavery enclave. While there, Shackleford takes refuge in a brothel, where he teaches a worldly prostitute how to read, even as he develops an adolescent boy’s crush on her.
The Good Lord Bird is set in the 1850s. At this time, slavery was legal in much of the United States. Racial inequalities were taken for granted. What we now refer to as racial epithets and hate speech were then just common speech.
Where appropriate, The Good Lord Bird deals frankly with these shameful aspects of our history. What The Good Lord Bird does not do (so far, at least) is descend into racial guilt porn. The writers and producers of the miniseries assume that you already have a negative view of slavery.
Nor is this a hagiography of John Brown. The Good Lord Bird depicts Brown as the very conflicted moral figure that history reveals him to be. For example, one scene shows Brown executing an innocent Southern sympathizer and family man in cold blood. In another scene, Brown is shown blithely risking the lives of escaped slaves and white accomplices alike in an ill-conceived militia operation.
The Good Lord Bird also has a sense of humor about its subject matter. This is not needlessly edgy, inappropriate humor of the Quentin Tarantino variety, but rather the kind of humor that one would expect in a well-written coming-of-age adventure story.
If you like good storytelling set against a historical backdrop, you can’t go wrong with The Good Lord Bird. The miniseries is available on Showtime.
In order to combat a crop-eating plague of ordinary rabbits in the American Southwest, a scientist experiments with hormone injections that will hopefully make the long-eared Leporids sterile.
But of course, something goes wrong, as it always does in horror movies. Instead of making the rabbits infertile, the hormones transform them into hyper-aggressive bunnies that are as large as Bengal tigers. They don’t eat people. (That might have been too much of a stretch, even for a movie like this.) But they sure like to kill and mutilate their human enemies.
That’s the setup for Night of the Lepus, a 1972 horror film.
Hokey? Sure. But this Nixon-era movie is actually not as bad as it sounds.
To begin with, some of the best acting talent of the day was involved. The cast includes Janet Leigh and DeForest Kelley, of Psycho and Star Trek fame, respectively. The screenplay, moreover, is written so as to make this outlandish premise as believable as it possible could be.
Not that there aren’t problems. The special effects are really, really bad—-even for fifty years ago. And then there’s the basic concept: Giant killer rabbits?
In one scene, a police officer grabs a bullhorn and announces to a crowd that killer rabbits are on the way, and everyone must take shelter. It must have been difficult for the actor to recite that line with a straight face.
Don’t cancel anything important to watch this movie. But if you like vintage horror films and you’re capable of suspending your disbelief for 88 minutes, you might enjoy Night of the Lepus. As bad horror movies go, this one is pretty good.
It’s been a while since a movie has grabbed me from the opening scene, pulled me in, and not let me go for more than two hours. That’s exactly what happened, though, when I watched the sports drama Ford v Ferrari, which lasts for an enthralling 152 minutes.
Here’s the setup, based on a true story: In the early 1960s, Ford Motor Company is stuck in a sales and image slump. Henry Ford II, the grandson of the company’s founder, charges vice president Lee Iacocca (played by Jon Bernthal) with bringing home a victory for the Ford racing team in the annual 24 Hours of Le Mans race in France.
Iacocca initially approaches Ferrari founder Enzo Ferrari about a Ford-Ferrari partnership. (Ferrari was the reigning corporate champion of auto racing in Europe.) But after a humiliating refusal from the Italian CEO, Iacocca must build an American team that can bring Ford’s new GT40 race car up to the task. Oh, and he also needs the right driver for the Le Mans.
This leads him to California, where he enlists the talents of performance car designer Carroll Shelby (Matt Damon). Shelby is a brilliant designer, but his company is struggling financially, so the contract with Ford is a godsend.
And Shelby knows just the right driver for the race: Ken Miles (Christian Bale), a decorated World War II British bomber pilot turned racer. Miles has an instinctive understanding of every nut and bolt in a race car. He’s difficult to work with, though. In an early scene, Miles hurls a wrench at Shelby. In another scene, he sucker-punches him. And Shelby is his chief benefactor. Continue reading “‘Ford v Ferrari’”
This is because at the end of the day, a horror movie is the product of someone’s imagination. As a writer myself, I can’t completely set that aside. I can only suspend my disbelief so far. I might find a horror movie interesting, or suspenseful. But rare is the horror film that makes me look over the edge of my bed at night, wondering if something might be there.
My hometown of Cincinnati isn’t exactly Paris or New York. It is therefore somewhat understandable, I suppose, that our local news media is making a big deal of the episode of The Brady Bunch that was filmed here nearly a half-century ago:
While I was growing up in the 1970s and 1980s, going to Kings Island—Cincinnati’s only real amusement park—was a “big deal”. Much of the scenery in the above clip from The Brady Bunch therefore looks familiar.
Kings Island is still there, by the way. But it’s changed a lot since 1973.
A few feature-length films were shot in Cincinnati in the 1980s. Rain Man, starring Dustin Hoffman and Tom Cruise, comes immediately to mind. This movie was filmed in various locations in and around Cincinnati.
Watch the Mel Brooks satirical Western comedy, Blazing Saddles, if you haven’t seen it before.
There is one memorable scene in Blazing Saddles in which the African American Sheriff Bart(played by Cleavon Little) distracts a pair of Klansmen, so that his sidekick, Jim (played by Gene Wilder) can carry out a necessary mission of reconnaissance.
Jim pretends to catch Bart for the Klansmen. He grabs Bart by the collar and calls out to the Klansman, “Hey boys, look what I’ve got!”
It was the late spring of 1994. Bill Clinton was in the White House. Seinfeld was the country’s most popular sitcom. (Friends wouldn’t debut until the autumn of 1994.)
I was living in Wilmington, Ohio. I had a job I liked, and I lived in a cheap apartment with wood panel walls and worn shag carpet from the 1970s. I was 25 years old. Those were good times, all the way around.
For five days, from May 8 to May 12, 1994, ABC aired a miniseries adaptation of Stephen King’s 1978 post-apocalyptic novel, The Stand.
In case you’re not aware, The Stand is one of King’s most popular books. The Stand is a good-versus-evil epic about a supernatural battle between good and evil.
80sThen80s now is one of the few accounts I follow on Twitter, because, well…I’m nostalgic for the 1980s.
Today the account tweeted this post about the movie Red Dawn (1984). In response to the poll, I gave the movie a 9.
Red Dawn wouldn’t necessarily be a 9 if it were released today, mind you. But you have to evaluate a movie by the filmmaking standards of its era. A lot of movies in the early 1980s were pretty rough, compared to the slick, CGI-enhanced productions of today. And so it is with Red Dawn. Continue reading “Remembering ‘Red Dawn’”