To give you some idea of the lead time we have on our episodes, ponder this: we recorded this episode only a couple of days before President Joe Biden delivered his State of the Union address for 2024. And here we are, with me coincidentally composing this post shortly after Biden announced his withdrawal from his reelection campaign.
I tell you this not to get all political on you, but because it’s important to part of our discussion during the first half of our episode. But I’ll deal with that anon.
In this episode and the next, Sean and I will look at films that are great in many, many ways, but they’ve had an unfortunate side effect that rippled out since its release. And unlike our usual pattern, where the two films have something specific in common, each film has its own bad effect.
Having said that, there’s an interesting connection between the two films that we discuss in this episode; I address it at the start of Part 2. But anyway, we begin with Mr. Smith Goes to Washington, the very first film we’ve reviewed from that magical year of 1939. Directed by Frank Capra and starring James Stewart and Jean Arthur, Stewart is a naif in the wilds of Washington, D.C. where he accidentally finds himself at the center of a political firestorm.
And here’s where Joe Biden comes in: I was struggling to describe just why I thought the filibuster scene in this film gets to me. I understand that filibusters don’t work like that anymore, and more’s the pity. But a couple of nights later, I saw Biden’s State of the Union speech and afterward, when the pundits were doing the commentary afterward, one of them said that Biden is a “romantic” when it comes to America. And I realized that that’s what I was trying to convey. Jefferson Smith—and I, for that matter—are romantics when it comes to America.
But the downside of this is that too much romanticism can bite you in the back when there are other people around who will bend those same rules to a selfish purpose, and that’s what we see in Mr. Smith Goes to Washington.
From Washington we go to Baltimore for Part 2 of our episode, to look at 1986’s The Accidental Tourist, directed by Lawrence Kasdan. William Hurt and Geena Davis head up some high-powered talent as Hurt’s character, Macon Leary, navigates his life in the wake of a broken heart, a broken marriage and a broken leg. It’s all tough to do when you’re a popular travel writer. And the unfortunate side effect…well, it’s not what I thought Sean was going to bring up, I’ll tell you that much.
Also of note: when we recorded this, I was barely over a case of Covid, so my voice might be a little crispy here and there.
COMING ATTRACTIONS:
Next time around we view a pair of films that are wildly different in both tone and content. We begin with the original Halloween from 1978, directed by John Carpenter and starring Jamie Lee Curtis and Donald Pleasance. From there we go to 1989 for Rob Reiner’s When Harry Met Sally… starring Meg Ryan and Billy Crystal. Join us, won’t you?
Neil Jordan has made a number of different kinds of films, from biopic (Michael Collins) to literary adaptation (the remake of The End of the Affair) to comedy (the remake of We’re No Angels) to revenge film (Angel, aka Danny Boy, his first film, and The Brave One). However, there have been two consistent strands in his career. One is how he’s tried to give many of the movies he’s made a fairy-tale like atmosphere. The other stand is of a man who falls in love with a woman who turns out to be something different than the man thought she was. Mona Lisa was the first example of the latter type of story, and while it’s not my favorite example – The Crying Game remains my favorite – it’s a terrific film nonetheless.
George visits Mortwell (Michael Caine).
Playing someone far removed from Harold Shand, the gangster character he played in The Long Good Friday – except for his working-class roots and his explosive temper – Bob Hoskins is George, a man just out of prison for an unspecified crime. He’s estranged from his ex-wife (Pauline Melville) and his daughter Jeannie (Zoe Nathenson), though he eventually makes up with the latter, and he goes to get a job from Mortwell (Michael Caine), a vicious gangster whom he did time for. George eventually gets a job driving a car, but to his initial disgust, he’s meant to drive around Simone (Cathy Tyson), a call girl. It doesn’t help Simone is black (George is prejudiced), and that she looks down on him, considering him ill-mannered and lower-class (Simone’s clients tend to be upper-class). After some initial tension, however, they soon develop a wary rapport, and she tells him she’s looking for another young prostitute, named Cathy, because she wants to protect her from a pimp named Anderson (Clarke Peters, best known today from TV’s The Wire). George agrees to help find her, and as he does, he starts to fall in love with Simone.
George and Thomas (Robbie Coltrane).
As I mentioned at the top, this is partially a fairy tale, as Jordan wanted to bring the simplicity and romanticism of fairy tales to the movies, as well as the danger and darkness of them. Along with the real-life inspirations (a news item about a man who was arrested for assault and who claimed he was trying to protect prostitutes from their pimps, and a TV documentary about a wealthy Soho sex entrepreneur who resembled a middle-class businessman more than anything else), Jordan’s main influence here was the tale of the Frog Prince (George even tries to tell Simone the tale early on). There are fairy tale motifs throughout the movie – George brings a white rabbit when he tries to see Mortwell for the first time, George’s friend Thomas (Robbie Coltrane, Hagrid from the Harry Potter movies, and also TV’s Cracker) has sculptures that could come out of a fairy tale – and also story motifs in general (George and Thomas talk about mystery novels Thomas always lends George to read, and George tells Simone’s tale as if it’s a story). Jordan also brings together both the romantic elements – George is constantly listening to the Nat King Cole version of the title song, especially when he starts falling in love with Simone – as well as the darker elements (when George is driving down the street looking for Cathy, or going around various adult clubs, Jordan and cinematographer Roger Pratt (best known for his work with Terry Gilliam, though he also shot Jordan’s remake of The End of the Affair) make it look like George is entering something out of Dante’s Inferno). Of course, Jordan ends up subverting the Frog Prince tale in that Simone does not fall in love with George, even though she does grow to like him; it turns out Cathy (Kate Hardie), whom George does eventually find, is Simone’s lover.
Anderson (Clarke Peters).
Hoskins was apparently not Jordan’s first choice for the role – Jordan wrote the part for Sean Connery, who wanted to work with Jordan but wasn’t fond of the part – but it’s hard to imagine anyone else playing it. George has to be rough yet naïve and ultimately romantic, and Hoskins pulls all of that off brilliantly. Take the scene when he finds a scene of an old porn movie Simone appeared in (he got it when he delivered a package to an adult video store). He tries showing it to Simone, who, naturally, is pissed, and starts slapping him. George gets angry and hits her as well, but immediately apologizes, and they hug each other while crying. Hoskins goes through a lot of emotions through the course of that scene, and yet makes them all work. Tyson has the tougher role, as we have to see what draws George to her, yet she also has to remain someone mysterious and opaque, and considering this was her first film role*, she pulls it off beautifully. Coltrane brings warmth, likability, and intelligence to Thomas. Finally, while Caine is only in a few scenes, he perfectly captures someone who maintains a veneer of respectability but who is slimy through and through. Caine once told Hoskins, who co-starred with him in four other movies, that Mona Lisa was one of only three great British gangster films (the other two being Get Carter, with Caine, and The Long Good Friday). I don’t agree with that, but it’s definitely one of the great ones.
*-Denis O’Brien, who helped provide the money for the film through his company Handmade Films (which he co-owned with George Harrison), objected to the casting of an unknown like Tyson, preferring Grace Jones for the role, as she was just off the Bond film A View to a Kill. Jordan and producer Stephen Woolley both successfully fought O’Brien on that issue, as well as the ending of the film – O’Brien wanted to end it on the violent shootout, when Simone shoots and kills Anderson and Mortwell, and almost shoots George, while Jordan and Woolley were eventually able to get the ending they wanted, with George reminiscing with Thomas, and finally reunited with Jeannie – though O’Brien did win one battle. During the scene where George visits various strip clubs to find Cathy, we hear Genesis’ “In Too Deep”, which Jordan objected to because he wanted something more like what would have played in those clubs, but O’Brien insisted on because of how popular lead singer Phil Collins was. It does play a little too on-the-nose (“All that time I was searching, nowhere to run to”), and Jordan’s objections make sense, but I do think the song works overall.
Apologies for the delay to this episode, but I got Covid last week at the same time as a sinus infection, and I was definitely laid low for awhile. Not a cool way to spend your birthday week, to be sure. Anyway, thanks for your patience.
In today’s episode we’re looking at two films that are updated versions of classic fairy tales, even if they don’t necessarily look like it on the surface. And we start with Ball of Fire, directed by Howard Hawks from 1941. Barbara Stanwyck is a woman hiding out from the police by staying with a group of scholars who are putting together an encyclopedia. In exchange for the room and board, she offers the men lessons in modern lingo and other forms of popular culture. Of course, there’s a little more to it as she finds herself attracted to one of them. Hijinks ensue as the man who’s benefitting from her being hidden gets the idea to marry her as a means of keeping her from testifying against him. It’s a bunch of screwball fun involving lots of character actors.
In the second half of the episode, we move forward to 1986’s Mona Lisa, a kind of neo-noir film directed and co-written by Neil Jordan. It features Bob Hoskins and Cathy Tyson as an unlikely couple who have an unlikely adventure together. It’s guaranteed that this film doesn’t end the way you expect it to, but you won’t be dissatisfied by that.
COMING ATTRACTIONS:
In Reel 68, we’ll be checking out another pair of modern fairy tales, but they’ll be foreign-based and a little more esoteric. First we’ll screen The Bride With White Hair (1993), a Hong Kong film directed by Ronny Yu. After that we go to Scandinavia for Hanna (2011), directed by Joe Wright and the inspiration for the 2019 Netflix series.
…in fact, I got the film titles backward. Absolute Beginners is first. But this looks a little better, graphically (he said, twisting himself to justify the goof).
This is the second of our three “lost” episdoes, and it seems like we managed to cover all the same points we did the first time around. Unfortunately, Sean wasn’t feeling well when we did this one, and I say that so you know why he doesn’t have his usual pep.
In this episode we look at a pair of musicals that have David Bowie in them, and in singing roles besides. And while Bowie is one of only a few live actors in one film, he’s still a relatively minor character, from a screen-time standpoint.
Both of these films are from 1986. As I noted above, we’re starting with Absolute Beginners, directed by Julien Temple. It stars Eddie O’Connell and Patsy Kensit as a pair of young adults working their way into British society and learning that their ideals have an unfortunate way of bumping into reality.
In Part 2 we check out Labyrinth, directed by Jim Henson. It stars Jennifer Connelly, David Bowie and a bunch of muppets. It was Henson’s last big project before his untimely death. Connelly does a fantastic job as a teenage girl who gets what she wishes for…and realizes what a mistake she’d made. We’d tell you to look for Star Trek: The Next Generation‘s Gates McFadden (the film’s choreographer) in the ballroom scene, but she’s wearing a mask, so you’re out of luck.
COMING ATTRACTIONS:
It’s the last of the Lost Episodes as we present films that are based on concept albums. First, from 1979 it’s Quadrophenia, and then we look at Pink Floyd: The Wall from 1982.
I (Claude) have no idea how it happened but our recording for Episode 43 has simply vanished. Having said that, however, Sean and I have committed to re-recording the show and you’ll get it in your feed, just out of order.
In the meantime, here’s Episode 44, which focuses on films that are directed not so much by film directors, but by people who are more conventionally known for their musical careers.
In Part One we have True Stories, from 1986 and directed by David Byrne, who you probably know is the founder of the band Talking Heads. As loose and unformatted as this film appears to be, there was in fact a script. And while many of the characters may seem to be a little weird to the casual observer, it’s their brand of weird and they wouldn’t have it any other way. It’s a touching tribute to small-town America. (Trust me, I lived in a Virgil, Texas for five years, only it was in New Jersey.)
From there we move on to Part Two, and a film from 2014 called God Help the Girl, written and directed by Stuart Murdoch. Murdoch is one of the founders of the band Belle and Sebastian, and it’s no small coincidence that “God Help the Girl” was also the name of a 2009 music project that he worked on, where female vocalists sang songs about girls and women. One of the standout voices on that album was Catherine Ireton, who appears on about two-thirds of the tracks in one form or another. At any rate, God Help the Girl (the film) is about a trio of young adults who help each other find direction through their music.
Both of these films use the music to help us get into the singer’s head, but they deviate from “traditional” musicals in that the action doesn’t stop completely while the character is singing. In True Stories the singing is more like dialogue. In fact, in a couple of cases dialogue segues into singing and then back again. In God Help the Girl the characters sometimes may occasionally sing to nobody in particular. But then again it’s part of the action and doesn’t prevent the story from moving forward.
