Oeuvre: Tim Burton - Sleepy Hollow

The Legend of Sleepy Hollow was one of my favorite short stories as a boy.  Likewise, the animated Disney short of the same name was in constant rotation around the Halloween season.  The chilling tale of the superstitious schoolteacher, Ichabod Crane and his mysterious meeting with the Headless Horsemen aroused my curiosity and fired up my imagination.

So, how does Tim Burton's film compare?  The movie, Sleepy Hollow, may have a streamlined title but it also has a far more complicated plot.

At the turn of the 19th century, man of science, Constable Ichabod Crane (Johnny Depp) is sent to a small, Dutch village to investigate a series of brutal beheadings.  The townsfolk believe that the killer is not of flesh and blood, but a hessian from the Revolutionary War they call the Headless Horseman, who has risen and is on the hunt for fresh heads.  Determined to find the true culprit of these crimes, Ichabod uncovers a sinister conspiracy deep within the heart of Sleepy Hollow, and maybe even... beyond the grave.

Andrew Kevin Walker and make-up effects designer Kevin Yagher conceived of this adaptation as a period piece slasher film.  This comes as no surprise, given that Walker also wrote Se7en.

Johnny Depp performs ably as the capable but cowardly Ichabod Crane, now constable instead of school teacher.  Also considered for the role were Brad Pitt, Liam Neeson, and Daniel Day-Lewis.  Depp is slightly goofier than Neeson or DD Lewis might have been and maybe if the film had been closer to the source material, they would have been better choices.  Unsurprisingly, Depp wanted a prosthetic nose and ears to match the description of the character.  Equally unsurprisingly, the studio refused.  He gives a performance that's vaguely feminine and fragile and while he's far too pretty to fit in with the rest of his surroundings, its always fun to watch Depp swing for the fences.

Christina Ricci is cast as Katrina Van Tassel and she is given more development than her character ever had in the book.  And yet, there's still nothing to her character.  Its some sort of mathematical paradox in which zero is somehow greater than zero.  I suppose she spurns Ichabod later but that's about it.

Brom Bones (now named Brom Van Brunt) is Ichabod's romantic rival but his role in the story is chopped down immensely, if you'll pardon the pun.  Ichabod's first run-in with the Horseman and the chase to the bridge remains intact, and even contains one of the possible endings of the original story, but it appears around the halfway point of the film.  Apart from that Brom acts more as the Jock in a slasher film, than the Gaston-esque figure he is in the book.

Apart from that, we are given a whole new cast of characters.  Baltus Van Tassel, Magistrate Philipse, Doctor Lancaster, Reverend Steenwyck, Widow Winship, Notary Hardenbrook, all great names, are played by an embarrassingly talented cast including Michael Gambon, Richard Griffiths, Ian McDiarmid, Jeffrey Jones, Michael Gough, Christopher Lee, and Miranda Richardson, most of whom play town elders and all of whom have something to hide.

Much is removed from Washington Irving's classic.  However, the tone of the film remains the same.  Eerie is the best word to describe it.  As I've said previously, the book is reshaped from a thrilling horror to a horror thriller.  My frustration at the changes aside, I have to concede that the film still works.  Burton turned this slasher film into a Hammer Horror film, even bringing in Hammer alumni such as Christopher Lee and Michael Gough.  The action and the kills are well shot and when the mystery really picks up, there is a modern energy that meshes well with the period setting.

"Their heads were not found severed..." warns Reverend Steenwyck, ominously.  "Their heads were not found at all."  There is a fantastic atmosphere that pervades most of this film.

The production design by Rick Heinrichs, from the imposing town halls, to the spindly scarecrows in a cornfield, to the twisted, dead tree in the middle of a forest are all straight out of what I like to call "horror by candlelight."  It all looks like something out of an Edgar Allen Poe novel.

The cinematography, shot by none other than the immeasurable Immanuel Lubezki is breathtaking and haunting.  His use of darkness and fog is classic horror the way it was meant to be seen.  Burton's frequent collaborator, Danny Elfman steps up to the plate in a big way.  Horror films are particularly difficult to write music for.  Low and ominous is an easy direction but its damn near impossible to make anything that stands out.  Almost any track would fit perfectly in a campfire setting.  He elevates the still and unnerving cinematography and provides a soundtrack that sends chills down your spine.

There is only one element of the movie I outright object to and that is the ending, which essentially amounts to a climb up a wind-mill (gotta milk that Dutch heritage for all it's worth) and a horse chase with the Headless Horseman.  Why does it bother me?  Well, I'll tell you.

SPOILERS FOR THE LEGEND OF SLEEPY HOLLOW BELOW!!!

The short story is COMPLETELY different!  In Washington Irving's original tale, Ichabod Crane is a lanky, gawky, superstitious schoolteacher who comes to Sleepy Hollow to... well... teach school.  Despite his awkward appearance, Ichabod is surprisingly charming and attracts the eye of every woman in town, including Katrina Van Tassel, a young woman and heir to her father's considerable fortune.  Ichabod also has an appetite and daydreams about wedding Katrina so that, when her father passes away, he can inherit the fortune and eat, and eat, and eat.

All of this becomes a point of contention to the local bully, Brom Bones, who also seeks Katrina's hand.  He attempts to embarrass Ichabod, though the pranks fail to dissuade him.

Then, on a cold, autumn night, Ichabod attends a party at the Van Tassel's.  There, Brom tells everyone the ghost story of the Headless Horseman, an evil spirit who lost his head and seeks others to take it's place.  He warns that if anyone sees this specter, they must make for the bridge next to the old burying ground, where the Horseman will disappear.

That night, on his lonely ride home, Ichabod sees a man in the distance on horseback.  The massive man approaches him and Crane sees that the man has no head.  The Horseman charges Ichabod and chases him through the forest, with Ichabod running for his life.  Ichabod crosses the bridge and watches in horror as the Headless Horseman crosses the bridge and throws a severed head at Ichabod's face.

The next day, Ichabod is gone.  All that remains is his horse, a trampled saddle, a hat, and a broken pumpkin.  Brom Bones marries Katrina.  Did Ichabod truly run into the Headless Horseman that night?  Was he dragged to hell?  Or was it merely Brom Bones in disguise?  And if it were, did Ichabod flee the city?  Or was he savagely murdered and his body hidden?  The true fate of Ichabod Crane remains a mystery.

The End.

To me, that ending is WAY scarier than any ferris wheel fight scene.  The idea that our hero could be dispatched and we'll never know the truth is frightening.  I suspect that as children, we all have a fear that we will be taken and nobody will know what happened to us.  I understand that a story about a schoolteacher and only one supposed murder can't sustain a feature film but I prefer this sinister and ambiguous conclusion.

Its the movie's lame ending and a tired, bland love story between Ichabod and Katrina, that prevent this movie from being a horror classic.  That said, I still think that its a lot of fun and if you're in the mood for something to watch on Halloween that has that October spirit, I think this is a fun film to check out.

Oeuvre: Tim Burton - Mars Attacks

Tim Burton must have been inspired after binge watching the films of Ed Wood.  How else do you explain this throwback to the sci-fi schlock of the fifties that is MARS ATTCKS?

While Batman drew upon decades of rich, varied source materials, and Ed Wood was adapted from a biography, Mars Attacks is based on... trading cards.  And boy does it show.  How can I tell?  Because the story has no story.  Or maybe it has too much story.  Let's unpack this.

The "plot" is that hideous Martians visit Earth, at first, in peace (or maybe not, its never clear), and then with great malice.  During the discovery and subsequent invasion, we follow a slew of colorful characters, performed by one of the greatest casts ever assembled, including a pervy assistant to the President played by Martin Short, a jealous reporter played by Michael J. Fox, a frustrated bus driver played by Pam Grier, a snobbish First Lady played by Glenn Close, her precocious daughter played by Natalie Portman, a quiet, misunderstood teenager played by Lukas Haas, his oblivious grandma played by Sylvia Sidney, a redneck soldier played by Jack Black, Tom Jones played by Tom Jones, and Danny DeVito as a rude gambler named Rude Gambler.

But the main characters are Jack Nicholson as both the President of the United States and as an obnoxious casino owner, Annette Bening as a delightful hippie, a chihuahua-toting entertainment news reporter played by Sarah Jessica Parker, and her unlikely love interest, Pierce Brosnan as a suave Professor who smokes a pipe.

All of these actors live and die by the material written for them, which varies to a dangerously uneven degree.  Of this monumental cast, I'd say Nicholson, Grier, Bening, and Brosnan come out shining.

When the movie is at it's strongest, it skewers those silly science fiction flicks Hollywood used to crank out.  That's one of the reasons Pierce Brosnan is so successful.  His role is the most 50's B-movie of them all.  He squints off in the middle distance, pondering man's place amongst the cosmos.  He performs an alien autopsy in a round, white room, wearing scrubs and a bubble helmet.  He reaches into the alien's head and pulls out Nickelodeon-green slime.  And he's almost never seen without his pipe.

But all too soon, we reach the breaking point of the film.  Namely that Mars Attacks doesn't know what to do after Mars attacks.  Before, the movie was a comic sendup, but it builds and then crumbles into disappointing series of lame gags.  The Martians have no purpose, no end goal, and as a result, they are subjected to cartoon gimmicks that make no sense.  Why do the Martians ogle a women like horny teenagers?  Why do they pose for a family photo in front of the Taj Mahal?  Why do they use the Easter Island heads as bowling pins?  Do Martians have family vacations and cheesy group photos on Mars?  Do they have bowling?  Is it possible that we are, in fact, not so different after all?  No, its just lazy writing.

The problem is an obvious narrative issue.  The story simply lacks focus.  Brosnan and Sarah Jessica Parker have a great blossoming romance, even as they are experimented on aboard the alien spaceship.  But once there, they have nothing to do with the plot.  This is made all the more frustrating by a hint of a romance in the last 2 minutes of the movie between two characters who SHOULD have been the primary focus of the film, namely Lukas Haas and Natalie Portman.  Haas has the closest thing anyone has to a narrative ark and its a shame that the movie didn't choose to put him front and center.

The special effects in this film are sometimes great and sometimes terrible and its hard to tell when it's intentional and when its a failing.  The aliens are an unsettling sight to behold but as I mentioned, they're boring at best and irritating at worst.

The big takeaway from Mars Attacks is that it is good when it needs to be good, and bad when it needs to be bad, and sometimes its the other way around.

Oeuvre: Tim Burton - Ed Wood

Ed Wood is Tim Burton's Schindler's List.  There.  I said it.

Lets dive right in, shall we?  In the early 50's, a young filmmaker named Ed struggles to make movies by any means necessary.  Undeterred by repeat failures, he is convinced his luck has changed when he meets the once great, now forgotten horror star, Bela Lugosi.  Together, the pair make some of the worst films of all time.

There are two types of Ed Wood fans; those who discovered his objectively terrible films on their own, and those who discovered him through this film.  Some are the former.  Most are the latter. Anyone who says otherwise is a liar.

The film shows considerable maturity for Burton.  Saddled with the responsibility of telling the story of a real person's life, Burton stays away from the stop-motion animation and gothic imagery that has defined his career up to this point.  Instead, he makes a film "the Ed Wood way."  The production design by Tom Duffield recreates Wood's reality in painstaking detail and the black and white cinematography by Stefan Czapsky captures it beautifully.  You're not just in Ed's world, you see it from his eyes.

They say we love characters for trying more than for their success.  Ed may be the poster child for that ideal.  The screenplay written by Scott Alexander and Larry Karaszewski, based on the book by Rudolph Grey certainly thinks so.  We're always in Wood's corner.  We cringe as he gets knocked down and we cheer for him each and every time he gets back up.

The film boasts an impressive cast including Sarah Jessica Parker, Patricia Arquette, Jeffrey Jones, Bill Murray (who regrettably has never appeared in another Burton film) and a delightful cameo by Vincent D'Onofrio and Maurice LaMarche simultaneously as Orson Welles.

Martin Landau is magnetic as the foul-mouthed Hungarian.  His relationship with Ed, as they grow from idolized admiration to mutual appreciation, is tragically beautiful.  Both are striving for respect and legacy.  Wood, for a respect he has never achieved and Lugosi for a respect he once possessed.  Never meet your heroes, kids.

But the real star of the film is Johnny Depp as the titular Ed Wood in what may be the finest performance of his career (not counting Captain Jack in Pirates 1).  He imbues the character with delicate sensitivity.  He looks at everything and everyone with the energetic wonder of a child.  Watching Depp going over dailies of Lugosi stumbling through a scene, you'd think he was watching the second coming of Christ.  He has no self-critic, no voice in his head asking if what he's making is total shit.  He can't afford it.

Ed surrounds himself with failures, not to prop himself up, but because nobody of substance would agree to work with him.  They become his friends, compatriots, and accomplices as he passionately convinces them to steal giant, robotic squids and get baptized in a swimming pool.  And when Wood reveals himself as a transvestite, very risqué back then, they embrace him with loving arms, laughing with him.  They form a loyal circus group of badness that you want to join.

Ed Wood has had a hard time finding its crowd.  Its the film that most casual Tim Burton fans, I'm talking about the Hot Topic crowd here, seem to have missed.  Whereas, more serious cinefiles, those who stick up their noses at Batman or Sleepy Hollow, praise as his best.  Whichever way you look at it, whichever camp you find yourself in, its certainly a gem.

Under the care of almost any other director or written by any other screenwriter, this story could be nothing more than a series of potshots at the character but that's not the case here.  Sure, there are more than a few jabs at the hapless filmmaker and his crew, but at its heart, this is a story about determination and pursuit of one's dreams.  The film is never cruel.  Rather, its filled with admiration and respect for a man who was a terrible artist, but was still a man, with hopes and dreams, who made friends and watched people die.  He felt love and he felt heartache.  In that way, Ed Wood is one of the most human films I've ever seen.

Despite being critically well received and winning several Academy Awards, the film was a box office flop.  No accounting for taste, I suppose.  Check it out, immediately.

Oeuvre: Tim Burton - Batman Returns

After the monster smash that was BATMAN, Warner Bros was willing to do anything to get Burton back at the helm but Burton had moved on.  The tradeoff: he could do whatever he wanted with this one.  So how does one of Hollywood's most visually inventive directors follow up one of the most financially successful films of all time with a massive budget and free reign?  He makes one of the most unique super hero films of all time.  He makes BATMAN RETURNS.

The plot is all over the map, as though Burton and his screenwriters got bored every 15 pages and decided to go a completely different direction.  So here we go...

It's Christmas time and a corrupt businessman named Max Shreck has bribed all of the politicians to look the other way as his new power plant drains Gotham of all its energy.  Meanwhile, living in the sewers under the streets, is a deformed man named Oswald Cobblepot.  Abandoned and left for dead by his parents, Cobblepot was saved by either the Circus or an abandoned zoo, its never clear which.  Cobblepot blackmails Shreck for control and the two concoct a plan to elect the hideous Penguin Mayor of Gotham City.  At the same time, Shreck's shy but intelligent secretary, Selina Kyle discovers Schrek's fiendish plot and he throws her out a window.  She lives and decides she's had enough of men pushing her around.  She returns from the dead to seek revenge on all mankind as the vicious Catwoman.  Oh, and Batman's in it.

Narratively, it's a mess.  The stories work independently and there are no plot points that I would call "bad" but as a collective whole, the story simply doesn't work.  There is also a subplot about the Penguin deciding to kill all of Gotham's first born sons.  Then all children in general.  And an attempt to turn the Batmobile into a bomb.  And Wayne Corp deciding whether or not to do business with Shreck.  And a duel relationship between Batman and Catwoman/Bruce Wayne and Selina Kyle.  It's bananas.

Michael Keaton returns as Bruce Wayne and Batman and he makes a strong argument for being the best Batman ever to grace the silver screen.  He is quiet, understated, and still trying to come to grips with how to be Batman and live a normal life.

One of the most common complaints about this movie is that there are too many villains.  The problem isn't the number but that their stories lack focus.  The Dark Knight Rises had the same problem, but at least the villains in Returns are interesting.  As the Penguin, we have Danny DeVito in the role he was born to play.  Correction: he was born to play Burton's Penguin.  He's gross.  He's violent.  He's frightening.  He's perverted.  He's hilarious.

The role of Catwoman was coveted by virtually every woman in town.  Legend has it, Sean Young dressed up in a cat suit and walked through the Warner Bros lot before barging into the Producer's office and declaring, "meow! I am Catwoman!"  The role eventually went to Michelle Pfeiffer and I don't care what any of the Nolan Fans say, Pfeiffer has yet to be beaten as Catwoman.  She plays both parts as extreme as possible and it works.  Her character carries an understandable grudge against all the men who have held women down for far too long (more on that later).  Her suit, which she had to be vacuumed into before every take, is a thing of genius, making her look like the Bride of Frankenstein had an S&M fetish.  Like everything else in this movie, she is far removed from the source material, but what is on screen is memorable and iconic.  Her performance single-handedly thrust countless boys into puberty.  Too much information?  Probably.

All of the villains are interesting creations, except for Shreck played by Christopher Walken.  Does anyone ever believe him as a human being?  I don't know if Shreck was a part of the comics (although Max Shreck is the name of the actor who played Nosferatu years ago so I'm guessing no), but he only works as a stitch in this movie.  He ties the villains together and while the film gets some of its best satirical pot shots at his expense, he only adds to the bloated feeling throughout.

So why do I like this movie?

Well, despite its loopy, convoluted story, I just can't ignore what a unique film this turned out to be.  It exists in a strange spectrum.  Only a studio's desperation to keep Burton happy and a director determined to not just repeat himself could have lead to a film with this tone. There is a dark spine in this movie, as crooked as it may be.  It's a spine with child murder and perverted sexual politics.  Its comic book origins are firmly in place when the Penguin ascends into a One Percenter Christmas party in a giant Rubber Duckie and when a band of deranged Circus performers attempt to abduct all the first born children of Gotham's elite, but it also contains banter about overpaid security guards and fillings of voids, if ya know what I mean.

Then there is the discussion of women's rights as everyone but Bruce Wayne view women as sexual objects.  Shreck openly debases the obviously intelligent Selina but tells his fellow board members, "she does make a hell of a cup of coffee."  Even as the Penguin's control of Gotham tightens, he can't help but look at his admirers with the lust of a man who has never been touched and practically calls Catwoman a cock tease.  Meanwhile, Catwoman herself is fed up, not just of all the men in her life, but with women who act as damsels in distress.  Its refreshing to see a character confront these concepts so aggressively and unapologetically.  As Batman punches her in the face she cries, "how could you? I'm a woman!" As Batman tries to help her up, apologizing, she kicks the legs out from under him, stating, "as I was saying, I'm a woman and can't be taken for granted."  Hear me roar, indeed.

McDonalds famously cancelled their toy deal with Warner Bros after parents complained about the film's content.  Its a one of a kind film that can have armies of marching penguins that is "too dark" for the kiddies.

After Batman Returns, Warner Bros decided they'd had enough of this director and his quirky visions.  They decided to go considerably brighter and hire Joel Schumacher to direct the next film.  While I enjoy Batman Forever for what it is, we all know what Batman and Robin turned out to be.  After the campy Batman fizzled and died, Nolan stepped in with his considerably more grounded Dark Knight Trilogy.  Even though I despise the last film of the series, I adore the first two. Those films simply do not happen if Batman doesn't crash and burn with Batman and Robin and those films don't happen if Burton doesn't scar children with his perverse super hero film.

So, I guess what I'm saying is, we have to be thankful for Batman Returns, but not just for what it gave us in the future.  I genuinely like it.

Oeuvre: Tim Burton - Edward Scissorhands

After the ground-shaking success of BATMAN, Tim Burton had free reign to do whatever he wanted. While some directors use their clout to make big budget, original movies that otherwise wouldn't have been made, (cough, Christopher Nolan, cough) Burton went small and personal, and so we have Edward Scissorhands.

You probably know the story of Edward Scissorhands by now. And if you don't, you at least recognize the unforgettable images or have heard Danny Elfman's equally unforgettable score.  A lonely inventor creates a man but dies before he can finish him, leaving the man with only scissors for hands.  When an innocent Avon lady accidentally discovers him, she brings him home to her small suburban neighborhood, where he becomes very popular among the bored townsfolk.

Johnny Depp makes his Burton debut as the titular Edward Scissorhands.  Known primarily as a teen heartthrob from 21 Jump Street and A Nightmare on Elm Street, Depp curls inward as the shy, misunderstood character. Depp speaks less than 170 words in the entire film and yet his performance is clear and touching.

Dianne Wiest plays Peg, a devoted wife and caring mother, but also a door-to-door makeup salesperson. In many ways, she is similar to Edward. She's optimistic and eternally kind despite being continually downtrodden and disrespected by her neighbors.  She is married to Alan Arkin, who could not be more All-American Dad if he tried.

In any love story, you need a love interest.  Kim, played by Winona Ryder is a girl next door type whose teenage attitude makes her fear Edward and reject him as a freak.  However, she has a good heart and a patient spirit like her mother and finds herself warming to him, much to the annoyance of her boyfriend Jim, played by Brat Pack alum,  Anthony Michael Hall.  He plays a jock who treats Edward like a child and pretends, in his own callous way, to be friends with him.

And finally, there is the lonely Inventor played by Vincent Price.  He is inspired to invent Edward while looking at a cookie baking machine of his own creation.  It's that kind of movie.  His role was expanded in the script, but Price was very old, and his battle with emphysema and Parkinson's meant that most of his scenes were cut.  Fittingly, the last scene he shot for the film, that of his death, would be the last thing Price would film in his life.  He passed away shortly thereafter but his role in this movie, however brief, is charming and endearing.

This may be the most Tim Burtony movie of all time.  It is the perfect confluence of his talents.  Once again, his American heritage mixes with his German influences, and while they merged smoothly in Batman, here they clash but they clash beautifully.  Edward Scissorhands exists in a reality slightly skewed from ours.  Peg's pink Avon uniform stands out vibrantly against the gothic castle.  Edward's pale skin and gravity defying hair make him stick out like a sore thumb amongst the clean cut "normal" people that surround him.  His contempt for the American suburbs is fully on display here as well.  The houses are painted in garish Easter pastels and all the men leave for work at exactly the same time, but there is also a scary, dark castle atop a scary, dark mountain that comes out of nowhere.  If it weren't for the fairy tale elements of this movie, one could argue it is riddled with plot holes and marred by dramatic simplicity but it totally works.  If you wonder where Edward gets the blocks of ice, you're asking the wrong questions.

One of the deeper, darker concepts this movie explores is our relationship with phenomena.  Edward is treated with admiration and curiosity but he's nothing more than a novelty to most of the town.  These people are terribly bored.  To them, he is something to gawk at, and when he doesn't behave the way they want him to, he's something to fear.  They are more than happy to believe that he is a thief, a sex offender, and even a murderer despite all evidence to the contrary.  Even Peg, the well-meaning mother, is corrupted by Edward's presence.  As Edward becomes more and more popular, she starts to use him as a means of increasing her social value.

In a deeply troubling scene, Peg sits with Kim and admits that she should never have brought Edward down from that castle.  That their lives would have been better if he had just stayed up there forever.  Its upsetting because even Peg, one of Edward's most passionate defenders, thinks its better for Edward to be locked away in desperately lonely isolation, instead of hoping that others will grow to acknowledge and love him as they do.  Its a dismissal of humanity's worth as a whole.

The only pure person in this movie isn't Edward, its the Inventor, a man who created life out of the emptiness in his heart.  Edward is a child and can be molded as one.  Left to his own devices, he cuts his face.  He hurts everything he touches but longs for human interaction.  His very first lines are "don't go."  He wants to understand the world around him and sees beauty everywhere, but even he is corrupted by the world he is forced to inhabit.  In our culture, he experiences desire and longing, but with it come jealousy and violence.  Edward, it seems, is not meant for this world.

It's impossible to separate the artist from the art in this case.  I'm not referring to Burton's fondness for vibrant colors, black blacks and pale makeup.  I'm referring to Edward as a character and Burton's childhood in Burbank.  At its core, the story is about a lonely young man, who doesn't understand people.  He becomes an artist and even achieves a small level of fame before being chased out of the town he never asked to be a part of.  Edward and Burton even look alike, with the same pale skin and trademark straggly hair.  This only contributes to the film's feeling of honesty.  There is something true about Edward Scissorhands and I think it's because its the most personal movie Tim Burton ever made.

What Burton creates here is a modern day fairy tale; the story of where snow comes from.  The film is intensely moving, thanks in no small part to Depp's performance and Elfman's score.  One scene in particular, in which Winona Ryder asks Edward to hold her always draws a tear from my eye.  Edward Scissorhands is a deeply beautiful, tragic love story that deserves to be seen by everybody. Its just that good.

Oeuvre: Tim Burton - Batman

The sequels and remakes have used the additives of 'Returns', 'Forever', 'Begins', 'V. Superman', and 'And Robin' but 25 years ago, there was only one 'BATMAN.'

While you know all the players, you may not know the plot.  Orphaned billionaire Bruce Wayne protects Gotham City as the masked vigilante known as Batman.  His life is complicated when he falls for Vicki Vale, a famed photographer pursuing the true identity of the fabled Batman.  But when an old enemy returns from the dead as the twisted Joker, Wayne must put his personal interests aside and stop this madman once and for all.

There's a whole generation out there who think Batman begins and ends with Nolan and that Burton's films, while revolutionary for the time, are dated by todays standards.  While that is occasionally true, there is still much to admire.  A quarter of a century later, 'Batman' still stands out for its dark imagery and mythic atmosphere.

Michael Keaton is a Batman.  He doesn't overcompensate with a deep, gravely voice.  He rarely speaks in anything over a whisper.  Everything about his Batman is minimal, from his quiet but stern composure signifying that he is, in fact, badass, to his simple, pitch black costume, thanks to Bob Ringwood.  But where Keaton truly excels is as Bruce Wayne.  The character has proven impossible to capture by everyone who has played the part by everyone except Christian Bale and Keaton.  Keaton's Wayne is vulnerable, bordering on aloof.  He's a slightly stuttering recluse who doesn't know how to talk to people.  You'd never guess that he puts on a cowl and beats up muggers but that's what is so great about him.

The object of Wayne's affections Vicki Vale played by Kim Basinger, a last minute replacement for Sean Young.  What makes her character so interesting is that she begins the story pursuing Batman but turns her eye to Wayne who she finds more interesting and elusive.  Almost any other movie would have the opposite, no matter how predictable.

Michael Gough is a considerably better Alfred Pennyworth than Michael Caine ever was.  Like everything else in this movie, he's understated compared to Nolan's often self-important reboot.

And then there's the show-stealing Jack Nicholson as Jack Napier but you can call him... the Joker, a maniacal lunatic who plans to take over Gotham with the ingenious use of cosmetics.  Lex Luthor can keep his real estate schemes, our guy's got makeup!  Nicholson plays the part very traditionally.  He is slightly more ominous than Cesar Romero ever was but he's also just plane goofy.  He has a prosthetic grin permanently stretched on his face but you feel that Jack would have been smiling like that regardless of the makeup.  He's clearly having a ball.

One aspect of the story that I admire greatly is the Batman/Joker dynamic.  You get the same "you made me!  No, you made me!" talk that all superhero movies feel the need to saddle themselves with, but here we get a variety.  Batman confronts Jack Napier, the Joker confronts Bruce Wayne, and finally, Batman confronts the Joker.  With every interaction the relationship is different and in every scene it grows.  That's rare, even for superhero movies these days.

Danny Elfman's score opens the film and presents itself as the most memorable Superhero score next to John Williams' Superman over a decade earlier.  Sparing a very few exceptions, these two giants have not been topped.  It's ominous, its fast, its energetic, its just Batman.  But the rest of the soundtrack is pretty fantastic too.  The Joker's motif, 'Waltz to the Death' is fun to listen to and works incredibly well when juxtaposed to the grim aesthetic.  And the track 'Descent into Mystery' which plays as Batman travels back to the Batcave for the first time gives me chills.

With the help of Production Designer Anton Furst, Burton's Gotham is a thing to behold.  Skyscrapers so high they pierce the thick, story clouds that shroud Gotham in a perpetual darkness.  Wayne's mansion feels authentically exaggerated and his Batcave will continue to set the gold standard by which all other Batcaves will be judged.  The world exists in a timeless age, where men wore trench coats and fedoras, but computers also exist.  And yet, it never detracts from the story.

There are things that age the story (I'm looking at you, Prince!), and there are massive jumps of logic that some won't be able to make (where did all those goons on the church rooftop come from, anyway?) but if you're willing to look past all that, I think Tim Burton's Batman is a treat.  There are so many aspects of the movie that still haven't been topped, despite the six films that have followed it.  But if you think its unique, wait till you get a load of 'Batman Returns.'

Oeuvre: Tim Burton - Beetlejuice

Last month, I stressed the importance of a filmmaker's sophomore effort.  A great deal of importance is placed of a director's first film, as it should be.  It's the film that gets your foot in the door.  It's often treated as a "Here's who I am!" statement.  But its the next film, with more experience and a greater budget, that you plant your feet, spread your arms wide and declare "This is who I CAN be!"  With 'Beetlejuice', Burton shows his true colors.  Turns out its a lot of blacks and whites.  But also, a whole lotta fun!

Alec Baldwin and Geena Davis play Adam and Barbara Maitland, a couple  hopelessly, dorkily in love.   He spends most of his time in the attic building a model of their quaint little town and she buys him a can of furniture oil and they're both really excited about it.  Norman Rockwell could not invent these two.

But there's trouble in paradise.  The lovers die in a freak accident and return home as ghosts only to discover that their beloved house has been infested by a dysfunctional family from New York.  Unable to scare away the unwanted inhabitants, the newly-deads turn to a sleazy, disgusting spirit for assistance.

All, literally all of the characters in this movie are a lot of fun.  There's no weak point.  Alec Baldwin and Geena Davis are charming and delightfully inoffensive and yet they're never boring.  They accept their fate with a sense of bewilderment and curiosity, refusing to let death get them down.

Jeffrey Jones, Catherine O'Hara and a young Winona Ryder play the Deetzes, the family that buys the haunted house.  The father, Charles Deetz is a big land developer who came out to the country for some piece and quiet.  Perfectly content with this old-fashioned lifestyle, he even comes with a copy of "American Birds."  Catherine O'Hara plays a wicked step-mother of sorts as Delia, a no-talent artist, crawling out of her skin out in the sticks.  With the help of Otho (Glenn Shadix), a vaguely homosexual interior decorator/spiritual, the two tear down the perfectly nice home and rebuild it into a gaudy, modern catastrophe.  Winona Ryder plays Lydia, a slightly suicidal goth with a flair for photography.  She's so morbid that she can see the deceased and agrees to help the lovely couple.  All of these people are cartoons and they should be hair-tugging annoying, but they're all funny in their own ways and compliment one another.

Then there's the world of the dead, a DMV for the recently deceased headed by Sylvia Sidney as a heavy-smoking caseworker.  Its a scene filled with tons of sight gags, colorful characters, and marvelously simple special effects.

But the real star of this movie is Michael Keaton as the bio-exorcist and titular Beetlejuice.  I really can't stress enough how fantastic he is in this film.  In every scene, he jumps off the screen.  He plays the part as a used car salesman meets the Genie.  He's a mad tornado of crass and filth.  Keaton was robbed at the Academy Awards last year for his brutally honest performance in 'Birdman' but he wasn't even nominated for his performance in this.  Unforgivable.

Legend says that following the surprise success of 'Pee-wee's Big Adventure', Burton began searching for a new project to pursue.  However, he was despondent after script after script of unoriginal ideas.  He was about to give up hope, when at the bottom of a mountain of listless screenplays, he found a concept bursting with unique imagery that fit Burton like a glove.

The Production Design by Bo Welch, the Art Direction by Tom Duffield, the Set Decoration by Catherine Mann, the Costume Design by Aggie Guerard Rodgers, and the Makeup by Ve Neill, Steve LaPorte, and Robert Short, for which they won an Oscar, are all top notch.  The effects aren't perfectly polished.  At no point, do I forget that we're on sets on a soundstage somewhere, but that's part of the charm.  It's all rough and tumble.

The score by Danny Elfman is iconic.  Whenever anyone makes a movie about conniving spirits, this theme is bound to show up in the trailer or TV spots and for good reason.  Like the characters, the scenery, the special effects, and everything else about the movie, its chock full of personality.

Burton directs this story with a precise deliberation and a fantastic imagination.  The stop-motion animation, particularly a snake within a snake that looks like something from 'Dune.'  His excitement and love for every aspect of filmmaking is tangible and I spent most of the movie grinning ear to ear.  There's a scene at the dinner table involving a choreographed dance sequence, shrimp cocktails, and the Banana Boat Song by Harry Belafonte.  The last act in particular, when Beetlejuice makes his way into the human world, is a hilarious thrill ride.  When I saw this film as a kid, I remember not laughing.  Not because it wasn't funny, it is, but because I couldn't understand what I was watching.  What is happening in this movie?  Its unexpected, unpredictable, and wholly original.  I can't imagine NOT liking this film.  It's a blast.





Extra Tidbit.  Some crazy individuals with too much time and even more talent made an awesome Beetlejuice Rollercoaster in Minecraft.  Check it out here...

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=afcudstM9zA

Oeuvre: Tim Burton - Pee-wee's Big Adventure

Once upon a time, there was a school called CalArts.  In this school, legendary Disney animators, men of great talent who worked with Walt himself, met in classroom A113 to teach a new generation of talented youngsters the art of animation.  These artists would grow to change the face of the industry forever.  They included Pixar founder, John Lasseter, Iron Giant director, Brad Bird, stop-motion titan, Henry Selick, and a shy, thin, quiet young man with dark clothes, tangly, wiry hair, and an affinity for German expressionism named Tim Burton.

Shortly after graduating, Burton and several other students went to work for the Mouse House and Burton was given the chance to direct a short film of his own creation.  The film, 'Frankenweenie', which we will get to eventually, was deemed "too dark for children" and Burton was fired.  But all was not lost, for a man named Paul Reubens saw the movie.  Impressed with this up-and-coming director's visual style, Reubens offered Burton the chance to direct his first feature film based on a television show Reubens conceived and starred in.  Burton agreed and that brings us to 'Pee-Wee's Big Adventure.'

The world that Pee-wee inhabits must seem alien and Neverland Ranchy to the uninitiated but I will try my best to explain.  Pee-Wee is a grown man with the mind of a child.  He is not mentally retarded, rather he has in him the spirit and logic of youth.  This is never expressly stated, but the movie does its best to convey, from his amazing house complete with fire pole, a Breakfast Machine that would make Rube Goldberg's mouth water, and a secret room hidden in a hedge containing Pee-wee's most prized possession, his Bike, that Pee-wee lives in the best possible world as perceived by a child.  Adults behave how children perceive them to behave.  Serious at one moment and silly the next, to the eye-rolling embarrassment of Pee-Wee.  "If I were grown up, this is how things would be!"

Pee-wee's bike, the envy of all, is stolen during one of Pee-wee's daily trips to the Magic Shoppe.  The Police won't help and so Pee-wee embarks on a cross country road trip to reclaim his lost treasure.

Reubens is really a marvel as Pee-wee Herman.  He has been playing the part for almost 35 years now.  The character is an absurd creation.  Mathematically, it should be creepy and yet, it works.  Its entirely possible that Pee-wee Herman is the perfect vessel for this sort of performance.  Can you imagine Paul Reubens bringing that sort of logic to Willy Wonka?

The screenplay by Paul Reubens, Michael Varhol, and the late, great Phil Hartman is brimming with energy and humor.  It hops from one small story to the next with a feverish determination.  In a mere 90 minutes, we are treated to dinosaurs, water wrestling, an escaped convict with a real dark past, singing hobos, clown doctors, a bucking bronco, the Alamo, a leather clad biker gang, and a ghost story from a trucker named Large Marge, my personal favorite.  There's so much more going on in this movie, almost too much, but the throw-it-at-the-wall-and-see-what-sticks approach really works to this film's benefit.

If you watch Frankenweenie or any of Burton's college shorts like 'Vincent', you can see that Burton's vision was sharply defined even at a young age.  However, his trademark style is not fully apparent here, though glimpses of his skewed doors and preference for black and white stripes do appear here and there, as does his love of stop-motion animation.  The production design by David L. Snyder is fun and the editing by Billy Weber is fine.  Weber has edited Days of Heaven, The Warriors, Beverly Hills Cop, Top Gun, Midnight Run, The Thin Red Line, Miss Congeniality, The Love Guru, and The Tree of Life.  What a strange career that man has had.

The only part of this movie that is definitively Burton is the score by lead singer of Oingo Boingo, Danny Elfman.  The soundtrack is bouncy and robust though far more lighthearted than his more iconic scores we will hear in the near future.  

Overall, 'Pee-wee's Big Adventure' is a fun film with a great sense of imagination and a slightly tweaked universe.  Burton directs with a firm hand and there's never a moment where I felt like he didn't know what he was going for.  This is by no means a "substantial film" but it is a good time.

Oeuvre: Mel Brooks Retrospective

As I said in my first review, the Oeuvre project was just something that I started with a friend to keep in touch, as well as keeping our critical minds sharp, and to give us a chance to explore and revisit films we might never have watched otherwise.  

For the past month and a half or so, I've been watching and reviewing the films of Mel Brooks.  I had heard of almost all of his work but I had never seen most of them and exploring unknown decades of his career was intriguing.

Its always interesting to watch a director change over time.  Whether they evolve or stagnate.  As long as I've known about Mel Brooks, I've known him as a comic legend.  The common man equivalent to Woody Allen.  There was even a debate over which of these New York Jewish comedians was "better" on 'Siskel and Ebert.'  (http://siskelandebert.org/video/8R52X9UUUHXO/Sneak-Previews--Mel-Brooks-or-Woody-Allen-1980)

Is that reputation justified?  Somewhat.  Do I think he's worthy of his iconic status?  Sort of.  After watching all of his films, I can definitively say, he's more visual than Allen.  In fact, his visual flair may be Brooks' greatest asset.  He's not a auteur but he has an eye for the sight gag and his passion for meta humor must have been revolutionary.  He had a talent for surrounding himself with and reusing talented performers such as Gene Wilder, Madeline Kahn, Cloris Leachman, Harvey Korman, Marty Feldman, and Dom DeLuise.  These casting favorites, along with a long career as a parodist gave Brooks a brand he would live by for the rest of his career.  I don't think he integrated himself as a star of his own films as successfully as Allen, in fact I think it was often a detriment to his material.  Perhaps his films would have been stronger with someone else in front of the camera.  And unfortunately, that self-imposed label as a parodist would haunt him.  I firmly believe that the only reason 'Life Stinks' is treated with such vehement disregard is because it is such a radical departure for him. 

When I think of Mel Brooks at his best, I think of self-referential comedy, broad slapstick, gross-out jokes, social commentary, and a love of the absurd.  Of all his films, I think 'Blazing Saddles' is the one that best encapsulates his career.  It deftly blends satire of the Western genre with an undercurrent of racisms and general prejudice.  Its climax is the most self-aware Mel Brooks has ever gotten without tripping over himself, and the screenplay sparkles with line after line of quotable material.

Its hard to watch his career from beginning to end without thinking about his influence but also about how time seemed to pass him by.  While he was making 'High Anxiety', the Zucker Brothers were about to hit it big with the absurdist parody 'Airplane!'  A year after he retired with 'Dracula: Dead and Loving It', Wes Craven released one of my favorite horror/self-aware comedies, 'Scream' and only a few years after that, Keenen Wayans released 'Scary Movie' which itself felt like a Brooks style parody of Scream.  We reached a whirlpool of parody circling parody, a snake eating its own tale.  I can't help but think of Brooks as one of the grandfathers of that style of comedy.

Brooks had a legendary rise to stardom as a comedic filmmaker with The Producers, winning best original screenplay for his first film.  How many can claim that?  Diablo Cody is the only name that comes to mind.  Though his star dwindled and faded away with flops towards the end, its clear how numerous films of his wind up on multiple Greatest Comedies of All Time lists.

For good or ill, hilarious or mind-numbingly terrible, his films were consistently his.  And that's one of the greatest compliments I can pay any director.

***

Up Next!

Oeuvre: Mel Brooks - Dracula: Dead and Loving It

After 'The Twilight Saga', everyone seemed in agreement that vampires were overexposed.  A common complaint lobbed at the the series (one of many) was that Edward Cullen and his ilk had nothing in common with vampires, except that they had sharp canines and an occasional thirst for blood.  "Vampires don't sparkle!" they cried.  "You make vampires look silly!"  Poor devils.  If only they'd seen Gary Oldman's hairdo in Francis Ford Coppola's 'Bram Stoker's Dracula' then they'd see how silly a vampire could really look.  Apparently, Brooks thought Oldman looked ridiculous as well for he set out to make his own Dracula parody just shy of the 100th anniversary of Bram Stocker's original novel.  And so, we finish off the films of Mel Brooks with his 1995 box office bomb, 'Dracula: Dead and Loving It.'

The plot closely adheres to most tellings of the Dracula tale.  A solicitor named Thomas Renfield travels to Transylvania to meet with Count Dracula over a real estate deal (no, really).  Dracula reveals himself to be a vampire and hypnotizes Renfield, making him his bitch before traveling to London to... suck some hot bachelorette neck, I guess.

Lets get all the Dracula puns out of the way.  It sucks.  Its lifeless.  It has no teeth.  It's a stake in the heart of Mel Brooks' career.  Bela Lugosee-something-else.  Yada yada yada.  The fact of the matter is that the film isn't very good.  Its more than not very good.  It's terrible.  It's a waste of time.  It's not very appealing to look at.  The cinematography, production design, special effects, and sets look simultaneously expensive and Party City cheap.  For a 90 minute runtime, it feels interminably long and what's worse, its boring.

But the devil is in the details.

Leslie Nielsen plays the titular Dracula.  He is humorous in his effortless Leslie Nielsen way and his comic timing is as impeccable as ever.  He finds a comfortable spot between Bella Legosi, Christopher Lee, and Gary Oldman but despite his decent Bela Lugosi impression, he never creates his own Dracula.  He's just Leslie Nielsen in a Halloween costume.

Peter MacNicol gives Brad Dourif a run for his money as Top Creep.  He starts the film steady as a weak-stomached, extremely British Renfield, but once he falls victim to Dracula's trance he turns into this horrible, screeching mess.  Every minute he was on screen, I wanted to staple my eyes shut.

Amy Yasbeck returns as Mina.  She has worked with Brooks before, plus she is pretty and has a long neck.  However, she has given nothing to do until the last act when she too falls under Dracula's spell.  Her crowning moment is a dance scene between her and Dracula with wirework out of 'Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon.'

Mel Brooks plays Professor Van Helsing and yup... that's about it.

The only shining light in this film is Steven Weber as Harker, Mina's husband-to-be.  He is the only character who consistently made me smile.  A friend of mine suggested that he may be struggling with a deeply buried homosexuality.  I think he's just fantastically repressed by the times and wants to grab some tit.  His restrained desperation never ceases to be amusing.  He's an oasis in this comedic sahara.

Nielsen stands out in this movie, not because he's particularly good or bad but because he is a legend of parody.  Thanks in no small part to 'Airplane!' and other Zucker Brothers comedies, Nielsen's deadpan delivery and stretchy visage make him instantly recognizable as a satirical icon.  He just doesn't belong in this movie.  He sticks out like a sore thumb and his casting feels like a desperate attempt on Brooks' part for a safe bet.

With 'The Twelve Chairs', Brooks introduced the world to Frank Langella.  Most people don't know this, but Langella played Dracula in 1979.  Why couldn't Brooks bring him back for this, as a knowing wink to the audience?  He was probably busy filming 'Junior.'

This movie is so cheaply made, it's baffling.  In the very beginning of the movie, we see a carriage riding in broad daylight.  Then a shot of the red sunset.  Then a shot of the carriage in broad daylight again.  Its that sort of carelessness that envelopes the film with a lingering scent of "who gives a shit?"  None of the characters have character except for Steven Weber and Leslie Nielsen and even he's just playing himself.  Its impossible to understand what's really going on because nobody has personality, fears, or desires, except "wouldn't it be sad if this woman I told you I loved became a vampire?"  All this could be salvaged if there was a sharp wit to the dialogue but Brooks just replaces the "Your name sounds like something else" jokes from 'Spaceballs' and 'Robin Hood' with the surprisingly less amusing "Aren't accents funny?" jokes.


This is not the worst movie I've ever seen.  Its not even the worst comedy I've seen this year (I'm looking at you, 'Hot Tub Time Machine 2!').  But its really amazing how much work can go into something and the finished product still looks like garbage.  I've always found the process of making comedies fascinating.  Unlike theater or live studio audience sitcoms, you can't tell if something's funny or not until you release it.  You tell a joke on film and nobody can laugh until the director calls "cut!"  I imagine you must feel incredibly stupid jumping around and screaming while dozens of crew members stand stone faced.  And how embarrassed must you be, when the film is released, and all those pin drop quiet, laughless moments are magnified a thousand times?

When 'Dracula: Dead and Loving It' was released, it received universally negative reviews, as well it should.  For a thirty million dollar budget, it only made ten at the box office.  This brought about a firm and decisive end to Mel Brooks directing career.  Not with a bang but with a whimper.

Oeuvre: Mel Brooks - Robin Hood: Men in Tights

For the first time in over two decades, Mel Brooks made an original film.  Unfortunately, 'Life Stinks' was a flop in every sense of the word, so, Brooks returned hat in hand to his comfort zone of spoofs with 'Robin Hood: Men in Tights.'

The plot of the story will be familiar to you, even if you haven't seen the Kevin Costner film.  The dashing Robin of Loxley returns from the Crusades to find Rottingham under the tyrannical rule of the corrupt Prince John.  With the help of his Merry Men, Robin Hood must fight to restore order to the kingdom and win the heart of the fair Maid Marian.

Its impossible to ignore the feeling that Brooks is coasting on this one.  There is a constant feeling of "Fine! You like my older parodies?  Well here is exactly what you're expecting!" that never leaves the film.  He's constantly peppering in elements and even direct jokes from his pervious movies.  Prince John's ever-repositioning mole is just a retelling of Igor's hump.  He even exclaims, "I have a mole?!" like how Igor famously asked, "what hump?"  The Sheriff orders Robin Hood to "walk this way!" and they mimic his pompous strut.  The tune for "Men in Tights" is note for note the tune for "Jews in Space."  Mel looks directly at the camera and says, "It's good to be the King."  Dave Chapelle stares down the lens and name-drops Blazing Saddles.  A camera breaks through a glass window after a push in shot like in 'High Anxiety.' And a gaggle of disgruntled peasants scream, "Leave us alone, Mel Brooks!"

Maybe that's the key.  Maybe this is the ultimate parody.  Maybe Brooks isn't just lampooning 'Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves' but his own filmography, challenging the nature of parody, self-referential humor, and the separation of an artist from his content.  Nah, I think he's just lazy.

Brooks receives primary writing credit along with J. D. Shapiro and Evan Chandler.  The former went on to write 'Battlefield Earth' and the latter went on to write nothing else and then died.  You tell me which was the good career move.

And yet, everybody in the cast seems to be aware that the script is less-than-stellar and they counter by throwing themselves into their roles as broadly as possible, working their asses off to wring every drop of comedy they can out of this hot and cold screenplay.

Cary Elwes is Robin Hood and it is perfect casting.  He may be the most charismatic actor to play the part since Errol Flynn.  As 'The Princess Bride' showed, Elwes was born to play dashing, confident swashbucklers.  Unfortunately, Hollywood wasn't making that type of movie anymore, so he's stuck with this.

As Maid Marian, Amy Yasbek is torn between being the respectable maiden society demands and being horny as hell.  Her assistant, Broomhilde played by Megan Cavanagh is a retread of Joan River's character in 'Spaceballs' but with actual character and jokes.

While many play Prince John as a contemptuous, Prince Joffrey-esque prick or sniveling, thumb-sucking coward, Richard Lewis plays the part like the head of a Las Vegas casino.  Its a fresh take that gives his performance a classless texture.

Mark Blankfield gives Mr. Magoo a run for his money as the funniest blind character and Robin Hood's loyal servant.  Mel Brooks cameos as a Rabbi trying to sell the people on circumcisions (a few laughs there), Tracy Ullman is fun as a nasty witch/cook with the hots for the Sheriff.  Oh and Patrick Stewart shows up.

Roger Rees is tasked with playing the pathetically smarmy Sheriff of Rottingham and he commits fully.  There is no fear in this man.  He has the broadest range of emotions, from smug self-satisfaction, to spluttering exasperation, to red-faced fury, to perverted frustration, arousal, and disgust.  He probably comes out of the movie with the most laughs, and for good reason.  He's hilarious.

The real wild card of the bunch is Dave Chapelle in his big screen debut.  I can't tell if he's happy to be in this movie or not but he's definitely done with this Ahchoo joke.  He seems to have a special skill set which is making black jokes and anything outside of it, like a choreographed dance number, makes him visibly uncomfortable.

Its hard not to think of this as a step back for Mel's career after the original film 'Life Stinks' but the movie works more often than it doesn't and it terms of his previous parodies, it far outstrips 'Spaceballs.'  One of the reasons this movie is successful is that the story of Robin Hood lends itself to comedic interpretation far more easily than Star Wars.  The story and those in it have been passed down for centuries and retold dozens and dozens of times, in Errol Flynn's 1938 classic, Disney's 1973 family film, or Ridley Scott's 2010 catastrophe.  Nottingham, Merry Men, "steal from the rich and give to the needy" are all ingrained in cultural history.  Robin Hood is as well known as Darth Vader, but while Rick Moranis had to warp the icon to make him comedic, everyone in Men in Tights simply play heightened versions of their characters.  Lone Starr is just a generic hero but Robin Hood is well-defined by legend and so are his relationships.

In general, the writing is just sharper.  I'll never laugh at Pizza the Hutt.  But for every eye-rolling "your name sounds like another word" joke that Brooks is overly fond of telling, there is one of genuine cleverness.  When Rabbi Tuckman can't convince any of the Merry Men to partake in a ritual circumcision he sighs, "I've got to work on a younger crowd."  And a scene involving a metal glove will never fail to make me laugh.

In an ideal world, Brooks could have skipped all of his films in between and just made this right after 'Young Frankenstein.'  Its obviously a parody but it almost works as its own retelling of the Robin Hood myth.  Then he could have made 'Life Stinks' and moved on to wholly original films.  Alas.  Men in Tights has a cult following now but it was only a moderate success at the time.  Brooks thought a parody of Robin Hood was a safe bet, but the age of his particular brand of parody was coming to a close.  The noose was tightening and his next and final film was the nail in the coffin.

Oeuvre: Mel Brooks - Life Stinks

After almost a quarter of a century making parody after parody, Brooks attempted something truly revolutionary; an original idea.

Life Stinks is the story and eventual mantra of coldhearted CEO, Goddard Bolt,  a man with nothing but contempt for anyone whose net worth is less than seven figures.  His greatest ambition is to tear down a crummy neighborhood and build a monument to his own hubris.  Unfortunately, that land is owned by a business rival who agrees to sell the property for next to nothing if Bolt can survive one month on said streets.  A wager is struck, hands are shaken, and the countdown begins.

Immediately, Brooks realizes that being homeless is a daily struggle, one which he is not capable of confronting.  He loses his hairpiece and mustache, his suit is torn, and he spends the first night sleeping amongst the rats.  Out of desperation, he befriends a colorful cast of kind, well-meaning bums with Dickensian names like Sailor, played with innocent charm by Howard Morris and his watchful protector, Fumes, played by Theodore Wilson.  They christen him "Pepto" after the Pepto-Bismol box in which Bolt spends his first night.

There comes a point in every filmmaker's life where they attempt a Frank Capra story.  Frank Darabont had 'The Majestic' and Steven Spielberg had 'The Terminal.'  One thing that all these stories have in common is a lack of any anger or sarcasm and most importantly, open sincerity and sentimentality.  Brooks is walking down a familiar trail here but for the most part, he rarely stumbles.

Brooks is surprisingly solid as Bolt.  He's so clueless without his money that he doesn't even think about soup kitchens and he really sells the desperation.  Lesley Ann Warren, as exceptional as she is underrated, plays Molly, a Broadway dancer with a tragic past.  She plays the part with tremendous bite and when she tells Brooks what happened to her, your heart will break.

Easily my favorite part of the movie is the perpetually pouty Jeffrey Tambor as Vance Crasswell, Bolt's sincerely insincere competitor who walks into every room like he's interrupting something important and isn't sure if he should leave or not.

One of the issues this movie faces is that its stylistically inconsistent.  We start off with a strong, visually amusing beginning that reminds me of 'The Hudsucker Proxy' by the Coen Brothers.  However, that heightened atmosphere is abandoned once Bolt winds up on the streets.  The problem is that, while the slums are a fantasy of what homeless life is like, its only a slight fantasy.  As a result, the two worlds, and Goddard Bolt's entire character arc don't gel.  The whole last act needs to be rewritten too.  It feels like Brooks didn't know how to resolve the story and since he has followed convention at every turn up to this point, he went with the most obvious choices for a finale.  He pursues a go-big-or-go-home ending when the story felt so much more intimate than that.  This leads to a climax that is clumsy, contrived, and ineffective.

That said, this movie has a good heart at its center.  Brooks is really stretching himself here both as an actor and a filmmaker as a whole.  Its not a strong film but it shows growth and maturity.  The way Annie Hall showed confidence in Allen's storytelling ability, Brooks is trying to tell a true story where the jokes come from the characters and not movie references.  Its clear that Brooks has something to say here, possibly out of the guilt that comes with being successful in LA where the dichotomy between the rich and poor is extreme.  He attacks the one percent, lawyers, hospital workers, and most importantly, the viewer, for how we turn away and do nothing.

Life Stinks is constantly referred to as one of Brooks' weakest films.  I honestly don't know why.  I've seen Brooks' worst and we'll get to that momentarily.  The transition from the first act to the inciting incident is jarring and the last act needs to change completely but the middle hits a consistent stride that Brooks has never had the courage to try before.  Its not a great film but it is by no means a bad one.  I assume one of the reason Brooks fans don't like this movie is the same reason I think that its so interesting.  Its original.

Sadly, the film was a both a critical and financial flop and so, Brooks returned to his comfort zone, but one can't help but wonder, if this story were a little tighter, the writing a little sharper, and the reviews a little more positive, what might have been.

Oeuvre: Mel Brooks - Spaceballs

Brooks has satirized westerns, silent films, horror films, Hitchcock thrillers, and period piece epics.  Each genre as important to film history as the other.  But in 1987, Brooks took aim at the film that revolutionized entertainment and changed the way films were made, and indeed marketed, forever.  STAR WARS.

The story is awfully familiar.  Lone Starr, a rebellious space pirate and his loyal companion, Barf, attempt to rescue the beautiful Princess Vespa as President Skroob, Colonel Sandurz, and the evil Dark Helmet threaten to destroy the peaceful planet of Druidia.

Bill Pullman is charming Lone Starr, a dashing rogue with a mysterious past.  He and Candy have legitimately good chemistry and the two would make a good team in a better movie.  Looking at him, you think, "I would vote for that man if he ran for President."

Daphne Zuniga plays Princess Vespa.  She's very attractive and willing which is all the part required. She is constantly pursued, though never aided by her servant, a trashy golden robot named Dot Matrix, voiced by the late Joan Rivers.  I constantly felt bad for Joan.  Her character doesn't do anything and I can't imagine Joan found any of these jokes funny.  She's forced to deliver lines like, "I couldn't hold my oil."

The two shining stars of this galactic farce are John Candy as Barf (hear me out) and Rick Moranis as Dark Helmet.  Both are playing to type but they embrace it so thoroughly, its hard not to laugh.  Candy plays Lone Starr's co-pilot, a Mog (half man, half dog, his own best friend) and his cowardly sincerity, wagging tail, and perky ears go a long way.  But the real winner in this picture is Dark Helmet and the inspired casting of Rick Moranis.  Moranis made a career out of playing lovable losers.  Here he is appropriately, hilariously dweeby and pathetic.  Making "Darth Vader has asthma" jokes is nothing new but this is the first time it felt earned.  He squeezes every drop of comedy out of the character.

Brooks plays two roles.  His scenes as the malevolent President Skroob are often funny.  His scenes as Master Yogurt (get it?) are not.

Unlike Brooks' more successful parodies, Blazing Saddles and Young Frankenstein, the social commentary and the plot don't ever move hand in hand.  The merchandising of Star Wars, as inescapable now as it was 40 years ago, never effectively synchronizes with the plot.  The result is a comedy that stops for jokes and a plot that doesn't mean anything.

This is a really strange film for Brooks, not because there isn't comedic fruit, people have been making fun of these movies for decades, but because while Blazing Saddles made fun of westerns, High Anxiety made fun of Alfred Hitchcock's filmography, and History of the World made fun of period piece epics, Spaceballs is making fun of one film specifically.  Its even more specific than Young Frankenstein.  The film doesn't so much reference or poke fun at other science fiction films or tropes as it does mention them directly ("Why not?  It worked in Star Trek.").  This could have been a parody of how films tried to copy the Star Wars formula with diminishing returns.  Instead, it becomes one of them.

Long gone are the days of The Producers when Brooks would write a cohesive story.  Spaceballs is so rigidly tied to Star Wars' structure that it is incapable of breathing.  Its hampered by a spine that wasn't meant to be funny, and in the few moments it breaks away from that skeleton, like when Dark Helmet fulfills his deepest fantasies with action figures, it suddenly snaps back into its unfunny plot.  The Producers set out to find a play so horrible that it would be a surefire flop.  Blazing Saddles put a black sheriff in charge of a racist town.  Notice something similar?  Both plots contain comedic conflict.  And here is Spaceballs' plot synopsis according to IMDB, "Planet Spaceball's President Skroob sends Lord Dark Helmet to steal Planet Druidia's abundant supply of air to replenish their own, and only Lone Starr can stop them."  Where is the comedy in that?  From the names, I guess.

This movie may be the definition of "it was funny at the time" humor.  In the first 10 minutes, we already have two bumper sticker jokes.  Jabba the Hutt is replaced by Pizza the Hutt and its the only time Brooks outdoes Lucas.  Jabba is a fat slug but Pizza the Hutt is flat out revolting.  Now if only the gag made us laugh instead of... gag.  But then there are things that are dated or just plain boring to begin with.  Michael Winslow, the funny noise guy from Police Academy, remember him?  Yeah, he's here to do the same schtick.  The only people to do something original with that premise were Key and Peele.  But then there's jokes about matching luggage, industrial strength hair dryers, and robotic henchmen who talk like 20s New York gangsters and wear zoot suits.  The Millennium Falcon is replaced with a Winnebago and in the climax, the bad guys' ship turns into a giant robotic cleaning lady with a vacuum.  It sucks.

And don't get me started on Yogurt and the Schwartz.  Is this a Schwarzenegger joke?  Is it a jewish sounding word?  I don't know but what's worse, I ain't laughin.

That being said, there were things I really enjoyed about the movie.  As previously mentioned, Lone Starr and Barf (just keeps getting funnier, Mel) have great chemistry.  They make a good team and I would have liked to see them together in something not Han and Chewbacca related.  A weak scene involving Star Trek beaming and butt displacement has a hilarious, laugh out loud payoff.  And there was also one scene that really, honest to God, impressed me.  There is a scene by campfire on the desert planet of Not-Tattooine-Really-Please-Don't-Sue, where Lone Starr and Princess Vespa discuss their pasts.  She is to marry a prince she doesn't love but considers sacrifice part of her duties as a princess.  Lone Starr flirts by telling her that physical contact isn't all its cracked up to be.  Its a genuine scene and it genuinely works.

One of the defining traits of Mel Brooks' career has been his passion for meta comedy.  He has implemented it as an unexpected finale of 'Blazing Saddles' and he has used it as a crutch when he couldn't think of an ending for 'History of the World.'  Now Brooks embraces the insanity and brandishes the absurdity with a bold confidence.  Star Wars is, after all, the film that practically defined merchandising.  I would go so far as to wager that it was the Spaceballs merchandising joke alone that inspired Brooks to make this entire film.  Around half way through the movie, the hapless villains are at a loss for what to do.  "We'll consult the videotape!" declares Colonel Sandurz.  They open up their VHS collection, containing all of Brooks' previous filmography, and pop in Spaceballs.  They fast forward, black and white squiggles covering what we've already seen in a way that only those of the VHS generation will remember.  Then they reach where we are now.  Dark Helmet and Sandurz see themselves in real time.  The movie is watching itself.    This is it, guys, the singularity.  The only way to go further will be for the movie to show us the ending at the middle and be done with it.

Only one aspect of this movie really interested me on an intellectual level.  With so many shots of people shouting out "the Schwartz!" in awe, it did make me chuckle thinking about how stupid Mark Hamill, Harrison Ford, Carrie Fischer, and Alec Guinness must have felt, talking about nonsense like "Jedi Knights" and "the Force."  What the hell is a Jedi anyway?  The only difference is that Star Wars has a shelf life of forever and Spaceball has a shelf life of about 15 minutes.

This film has one major problem that I jut can't overlook and that is that it is very negative and mean-spirited towards the subject matter.  I know that I can't be impartial.  My love for Star Wars goes back longer than I can remember.  But I couldn't shake the feeling that Brooks really doesn't like Star Wars and that, in the end, he just thinks its stupid.  Try as he might, he's always under Star Wars' shadow.  Go watch Family Guy's "Blue Harvest" if you want to see a Star Wars parody done right.  Not every joke lands, but most of them do and there's love in the work.  Brooks comes across as resentful and bitter at what Star Wars has done to the world.  But his movie doesn't exist on its own.  Its not a glaring take-down or even a chink the the armor.  Its a crass, ugly film that tries to be funny and occasionally succeeds but never lets us forget, with every bit of gross-out humor, and every lightsaber dick joke, and every empty second devoid of laughter, that we could be watching an infinitely better film.

Oeuvre: Mel Brooks - History of the World. Part I

It's good to be the King.  Not so great to be an audience member.

'History of the World. Part I' is an uneven, overlong, tired comedy of clichés and jokes as old as the time periods it lampoons.

Essentially, Brooks is satirizing epic period pieces, breaking this film into 5 chapters; the Stone Age/Dawn of Man, the Old Testament, the Roman Empire, the Spanish Inquisition, and the French Revolution.

We begin with an homage to Stanley Kubrick's '2001: A Space Odyssey' and masturbating apes, laying to rest my suspicions that this was indeed going to be a long 92 minutes.  Both the Cavemen and the world they inhabit look like instillations at the American Museum of Natural History.  There is one clever joke in the entire segment, one, in which we see a Caveman painting and creating art for the first time.  "With the birth of the artist came the inevitable afterbirth... the critic."  Then Mel goes and ruins a perfectly good joke by having another Caveman piss on the wall.  I check my watch.

The Old Testament has a famous joke about there being 15 Amendments until Moses dropped one.

The Roman Empire contains the lion's share of the screen time, roughly 41 minutes.  It tells the story of a stand-up philosopher, a slave, and a virgin who desperately want to flee Rome.  Lots of adding 'us' to the end of names.

The Spanish Inquisition is essentially one eight minute Las Vegas style musical number.  Its as hit and miss as it sounds.

The movie actually picks up steam with the French Revolution segment, where it takes on a Prince and the Pauper type romp.  Of all the segments, this one feels like it could be its own movie and its a shame that Brooks didn't cut the rest and focus on this story entirely.  The sever dichotomy between the poor and the wealthy alone is ripe for comedy.  Brooks is at his disgusting best as the King, forcing a woman to sleep with him to free her father from prison.  Unfortunately, Brooks has little interest in the plight of the peasants and the story rushes to and messy climax before pulling the rug out from under us in an ending so lazy and maddening that it soured the entire movie for me.  Alas.

Mel Brooks plays Moses, Torquemada, Jacques, and King Louis XVI but his most substantial role is Comicus, a stand-up philosopher who isn't as funny as Mel Brooks thinks he is.  He should be playing Narcissus.

Gregory Hines plays Josephus, a slave who can dance and call people "Honkus."

Dom DeLuise continues to play fat people who used to have more characteristics but they ate them all.  History calls him Emperor Nero.

Madeline Kahn plays Nympho, a character who speaks entirely in lame double entendres while Mel Brooks strokes himself off camera.

Harvey Korman appears in the last sketch as Count de Money.  The big (only) joke here is that people keep calling him Money, a callback to Korman's Hedley Lamar in 'Blazing Saddles.'  A real knee-slapper (sarcasm).  A slightly more highbrow joke would be for people to keep calling him Manet, but class has never been in Brooks' wheelhouse.  Besides, we have more piss jokes to tell.

Chloris Leachman plays Madame Defarge, whom the more well-read will know as a revolutionary in Charles Dickens' 'A Tale of Two Cities.'  She has little to do and Brooks is merciful by not making a Madame Defart joke.  The audience breaths a sigh of relief.

The film also contains the biggest waste of Orson Welles since the infamous Paul Masson commercial but with far fewer laughs.

Far more talented actors only get one role while Brooks gets five.  Why not bring everyone back and make this the Cloud Atlas of comedy?  Madeline Kahn is a talented comedian and is constantly underused.  Why not have her play multiple roles?  Because Mel Brooks would get tired of kissing the same pair of tits.  That's why.

Almost every scene in this movie is a clunker.  Brooks seems to know this, and for the most part, keeps every scene down to three minutes.  He never tries to establish a cohesive through-line or purpose to these set pieces.  There is no rhyme or reason to their length.  Each "story", and ultimately the movie itself, only lives as long as Mel Brooks can think of jokes to pile on to this weary skeleton.  He could only come up with 10 jokes for the Spanish Inquisition so its only 8 minutes.  He thought there were loads of jokes he could write about Rome.  So its five times as long.

This is a comedy of labels rather than ideas.  Brooks seems to think that shouting "GAYS!" or "JEWS!" is funny.  People are not inherently funny.  They are the baseline of a joke.  "An alcoholic, a priest, and a child molester walk into a bar" is not a joke.  It is a setup.  "An alcoholic, a priest, and a child molester walk into a bar... and that's just the first guy."  THAT'S a joke.  At one point during the Spanish Inquisition, Torquemada cries, "we've flattened their fingers, we've branded their buns, nothing is working... send in the nuns!"  At that point, a line of nuns march out, remove their coifs and gowns and diving into a pool for a synchronized swimming routine, where they do nothing religious and cease to be nuns entirely.  So why have them be nuns in the first place?  Because nuns are funny to look at?  Because "nun" is a funny word to say?  Nothing is working, indeed.

I feel like a teacher lecturing the class clown.  Mel, you're coasting on passing grades and the odd chuckle.  I know you can be better than this.  I just wish you'd try harder.  For the rest of you, go see what Monty Python is doing with 'Life of Brian' and 'Monty Python and the Holy Grail.'  Now that's an A student.