Tagged: review

When Sean Cunningham and Victor Miller concocted the story for Friday the 13th, they were merely trying to cash in on the success of John Carpenter’s [[[Halloween]]]. The seasonality for horror and the death of the promiscuous were copied along with the plucky virginal heroine.

What they did, though, was layer it with an interesting story of a mother’s grief for her son, the only thing to sustain her for two decades. Betsy Palmer gave a nice performance as the murderous mom, grounding the story more than it probably deserved.  The movie, shot on a shoestring budget, went on to become a major hit and an unexpected series for Paramount Pictures.

With Platinum Dunes, Michael Bay’s schlock remake arm, striking fresh gold with the remake this month, Paramount Home Video released the first three films in the series as deluxe editions. Under the snazzy lenticular covers are the same quickly made, poorly acted and over scored films, with a smattering of extras.

The first film told a story with a beginning, a middle, and an end as a group of teens attempted to reopen Camp Crystal Lake, long closed after two counselors were brutally murdered in 1958.  “Camp Blood”, as the locals called it, needed some TLC and they were readying it a new summer but one by one, the teens vanish, killed by an unseen assailant.  Along the way, we get our requisite one scene with a bare boob, lots of talk about sex, and a group of under-developed characters headed by the heroine, Adrienne King. 

When we learn that the grieving mom was behind the deaths, blaming careless counselors on her son’s death, you feel something for her.  And once she’s dispatched, of course, you get the shock ending straight out of Carrie.

The second film picks up immediately after, just months after the first ends.  Adrienne King is still recovering from the emotionally difficult period but gets one final shock at finding Betsy’s severed head in her refrigerator (starting the whole women in refrigerators trend, I suppose) and Jason actually alive and seeking his own revenge.

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Paramount Home Video concludes their Audrey Hepburn review with the fifth entry in their Centennial Collection, the classic Breakfast At Tiffany’s, on sale today.  It’s interesting that they’re celebrating a century but the first five releases are all from the same era, the 1950s and while this was released in 1961, still has that same look and feel.

The film has withstood the test of time very nicely given the loving touch of director Blake Edwards who oversaw this adaptation of Truman Capote’s novella and made it uniquely his own.  In the prose, Holly Golightly never sang “Moon River” nor did she really have a happy ending.  Characters differ between story and screenplay and by now, most people know Capote always envisioned Marilyn Monroe in the lead. He was crushed when Hepburn was cast.

While Monroe would have been good in many ways, this was all about style and elegance, the upper crust of Manhattan society and as a result, Hepburn was a better pick.

Making the movie was a challenge for Hepburn, playing the extroverted socialite escort (not a call girl) who ran away from her “hick” life and husband (an underrated Buddy Ebsen).  Instead, the social whirl of Manhattan at its finest was seductive and she wanted to live life to its fullest.  The pinnacle for her was Tiffany’s, the legendary jewelry store. Naïve in so many things, her actions are not always conscious ones and she pulls new tenant Paul Varjak (George Peppard) along in her wake. Her life is filled with fascinating people and annoying ones, such as the Japanese photographer, buffoonishly played by Mickey Rooney. The film is filled with terrific character actors including Martin Balsam but it’s also Peppard’s best role.  He is earnest and cool at the same time, working to craft a character, rather than easing his way through later roles as Banacek and Hannibal Smith.

Blake Edwards showed what he can do with comedy and subtle character interplay here, a visual style that became his signature for years to come, capped by [[[Victor/Victoria]]].  He’s accompanied by composer Henry Mancini who made his name with the score plus earning an Oscar for “Moon River”, which had lyrics from Johnny Mercer.  As we’re told at least twice on the extras, a Paramount exec felt the movie ran long and wanted to cut the song until Hepburn effectively said, “Over my dead body.”

The love story is a valentine to a time and place that no longer exists although the hopes and dreams of those escaping their homes for the City That Never Sleeps remain the same.

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There is something seemingly irresistible to combining romance with ghost stories.  Since the talkies began, moviemakers have told stories of lost-loves as either romantic comedies or dramas.  Every few years you get one that works on every level and becomes a popular classic such as [[[Ghost]]].  When they don’t work, you get [[[City of Angels]]].

[[[Ghost Town]]], the first significant romance since that latter film, falls somewhere in between.  Co-written and directed by David Koepp, this is a creative stretch for a man best known for his work on [[[Indiana Jones]]] and [[[War of the Worlds]]]. His premise, co-written with John Knapps, is a good one.  Dentist Bertram Pincus (Ricky Gervais) goes in for a routine colonoscopy but insists on general anesthesia and during the procedure he died for seven minutes before being revived.  Upon leaving the hospital, Pincus suddenly can see the ghosts who still walk the streets of Manhattan, ghosts with unfinished business.

Pincus, someone who generally has withdrawn from human contact after a disastrous romance gone bad years earlier, is suddenly besieged by the spirits begging for his help.  The only one who successfully gets through to him is Frank Herlihy (Greg Kinnear), who lived in the apartment directly below Pincus and is worried about his wife, Gwen (Tea Leoni), about to marry another man.  The budding antagonistic relationship between spirit and misanthrope forms the spine of the film as Pincus slowly learns to re-engage with the world.

Gervais, as usual, is a delight to watch being uncomfortable in his body and dealing with others.  Kinnear treads a fine line between being sympathetic and unlikeable (his character, after all, cheated on Gwen).  And Leoni softens at all the right times but her character doesn’t feel full formed and three-dimensional.

That’s the problem with the film.  There are lots of little bits to like but so much of this becomes predictable so you can see what happens long before it unfolds on the screen. The ghosts who all want his help have way-too-easily solved problems although one who has a surprising connection to Pincus offers a nice touch.

Koepp brings on the Greek ghost chorus to make Pincus feel overwhelmed or guilty or for cheap laughs.  Then they vanish for long stretches so we can focus on Pincus and Gwen.  These people seem so desperate, you ask yourself why did they back off and let just Frank get through to the dentist?  Questions like that rob the film of its ability to become truly entertaining.  It’s a fine date flick and certainly plays well on television but it’s eminently dispensable.

The single disc, on sale today, comes with a handful of perfunctory extras including commentary, a Making Of, and a set of bloopers that shows how much fun everyone had making the film.  It also shows how hard Gervais has to work to pull off his deadpan persona.