Head (1968)

It’s really hard to describe the movie Head, it’s the kind of film that you will either love or absolutely hate; there is practically no middle ground. I belong to the former category myself, as I find it to be an extremely amusing, if dated, piece of film making.  It’s definitely a product of its time; the late 1960’s. It is a movie that is about nothing, but says everything about its leading actors, The Monkees.  It was an attempt by the Monkees to shed their squeaky clean teen idol image in hopes of ingratiating themselves with the counterculture.  Head is the ultimate “college” movie, but sadly, college students at the time just yawned with indifference; they would have rather been dead than sit through a movie starring those “musical hacks,” The Monkees. The studio, of course, was oblivious to this fact and gave Rafelson the green light to make Head. The movie baffled the group's initial fan base, who went in expecting a goofy comedy, but instead were treated to a heady, and rather cynical, movie. To the fans (all three of them) that saw Head in  1968, it must have felt like the Monkees were flipping them the bird. I can only imagine the look of horror on their faces as Mickey Dolenz jumps off the Golden Gate Bridge in what is, essentially, an act of suicide.

Mind you, this happens at the very beginning of the film. The movie was a financial disaster and sent the Monkees in a nose dive that they never recovered from.  The studio (Columbia) didn't help matters with their piss poor promotional campaign; the TV spot  consisted of a thirty second close up of a man's face, then the word "HEAD" appeared on his forehead. The theatrical trailer to the movie was just as incomprehensible; it rapidly flashes images (in some case, outtakes) from the film, while playing random sound bites.

Rafelson was not content with just doing a full length episode of the Monkees and wanted to do something extremely different, nay extraordinarily insane, make a free form, stream of consciousness movie. There is no discernible plot to Head, nor, for that matter, is there a single character that the audience can relate to. Sure, we recognize The Monkees, but none of them are particularly sympathetic and are, at times,  down right unlikable; in one scene, Mike Nesmith and Micky Dolenz take wagers on whether or not a bikini clad woman will jump from the top of a building. The audience never really cares about the plight of the characters, because there is nothing to care about. 

Head often plays like an episode of Monty Python’s Flying Circus; like that show, it is a series of sketches that bleed into one another.  It is very self referential, rather than gloss over the fact that The Monkees were a manufactured product created to sell records, it fully embraces it (“a manufactured image with no philosophies.”) It constantly calls attention to the artifice by frequently breaking the fourth wall; Micky Dolenz gets frustrated and storms off the set of a western,  Peter Tork is worried about his image when the script calls for him to punch a woman, etc.
As a result, the audience never knows what is real (in the movie) and what is fake, thus creating a very surreal experience.  It is extremely fitting that at one point Peter starts whistling “Strawberry Fields Forever,” because, as the lyric in that song states, “nothing is real.”

In the movie, the Monkees are treated with absolute contempt by their co-workers; just their presence is enough to clear out the studio cafeteria. A few seconds later,  an overweight waitress sees them and quips, "Well, if it isn't God's gift to the eight-year-olds."  This is grounded in reality, as they were greeted with absolute disdain by the critics, who saw them as a cheap knock off of The Beatles (the pressed dubbed them the "Pre-Fab Four"). The Monkees TV show was greatly influenced by A Hard Day's Night, so this criticism has some merit. However, what really hurt The Monkees reputation was the revelation that they didn't play their own instruments on their albums. Of course, neither did the Beach Boys and many other, more respected bands from that era; The Monkees were singled out solely for the fact that they were a "manufactured" product. The result of this controversy is the common belief that The Monkees were no talent hacks that happened to be at the right place at the right time; they are no better than the Justin Biebers and Britney Spears of the world! Right?   What is largely ignored is that they could play their own instruments (they played live shows)  and actually did on the "Headquarters" album.  It needs to be mentioned that both Peter Tork and Michael Nesmith were fairly accomplished musicians in their own right, and wrote a few of the bands songs. Nesmith even manage to pen a hit song for Linda Ronstadt and The Stoney Poneys, "A Different Drum." The Beatles actually liked The Monkees and were big fans of the show.

I bring all this up, because it shows the mind set of the group as they prepared to make the movie Head. This was their chance to shed their prefabricated  TV image once and for all, and to prove their critics wrong. Of course, in 1968, it was a complete and utter disaster. However, like many other movies from that era, Head has developed a cult following. A part of this is due to Jack Nicholson's involvement with the film; he co-wrote the screenplay and has a "blink or you'll miss it" cameo in the middle of the movie. Head, in many ways, feels like a warm up for the following year's Easy Rider; they shared a lot of the same talent  and both have "loose narratives," and disillusioned protagonists.  Easy Rider resonated with the counterculture and was a box office smash; it was more grounded in reality, and visualized the hopes, and fears, of it's target audience. This is fairly surprising, considering that it is an extremely bleak film.

It's not too surprising that I find Head to be the superior out of the two movies; it definitely has similar flaws, like it's over reliance on psychedelic effects (a few scenes use the solarization process), but it is a much more energetic and creative film.  Easy Rider has a few wonderful moments scattered about, especially when Jack Nicholson enters the movie, but it is also incredibly boring at times. Head may have originally been a statement about The Monkees discontent with the system, but there are moments that still ring true today. There is a scene where the Monkees are onstage performing "Circle Sky," while shots of fans screaming are superimposed over their playing; one female fan looks like she's on the verge of having an orgasm. They scream the entire time, never once stopping to listen to the lyrics and trying to comprehend their meaning. It's not the music that excites them, but rather the product that is being presented onstage; the scenes end with rabid fans storming the stage and, literally, tearing the Monkees to bits. This is a phenomenon that is still alive in music today, fans (not necessarily teenagers) getting excited over a hyped up performer, regardless of the quality of his/her music. Head takes this idea a step further by juxtaposing images of the Vietnam War into the scene, thus hinting at how oblivious an obsessed fanbase can be to the world around them. It's a truly unnerving sequence and even a bit squeamish at times. How this movie got a G rating is a mystery to me?

My favorite moment is Micky Dolenz wandering through the desert, on the verge of dehydration. Just then he spots something in the corner of his eye; the film cuts to a long shot of Coca-Cola vending machine on top of a sand dune. Micky runs to the machine, inserts a few coins, and, much to his frustration, finds that the machine is empty. He starts banging on the machine, while the Coca-Cola jingle plays on the sound track. It's one of the funniest, and surreal, scenes from 1960's American Cinema.

Head is an underrated film that deserved a greater success; it only grossed a paltry $16,000 in its initial release. It's definitely worth a look, whether or not you are a fan of the Monkees. It may surprise you! Also, any film that has Frank Zappa giving Davy Jones pointers on how to improve his music can't be all bad.

Credits
Cast:  Micky Dolenz (Himself), Davy Jones (Himself), Michael Nesmith (Himself), Peter Tork (Himself),  Annette Funicello (Minnie), Timothy Carey (Lord High’ n Low), Teri Garr (Testy True),  Victor Mature (The Big Victor),  Logan Ramsey (Officer Lapid), Abraham Sofaer (Swami), Vito Scotti (I, Vitteloni), Frank Zappa (The Critic), Ray Nitschke (Private One), Carol Doda (Sally Sillcone), June Fairchild (The Jumper), I.J. Jefferson (Lady Pleasure), Sonny Liston (Extra) Toni Basil (Dancer).

Director: Bob Rafelson
Screenplay: Bob Rafelson, Jack Nicholson.
Running Time:  88 min. 

Josie and the Pussycats (2001)

Milwaukee, Wisconsin – April 2001.  My Basic Elements of Film making instructor comes into the classroom completely irate; the source of her anger – the Josie and the Pussycats movie. She can’t believe that Hollywood has adapted a second rate Hanna Barbara cartoon into a full length theatrical feature.  It is, in her words, “the death of cinema!” It should be noted that she has not seen the movie, but has already declared it an “irredeemable piece of garbage.”   How can an adaptation of little loved 70s cartoon possibly be good?  

She must have felt vindicated when Josie and the Pussycats opened not only to poor reviews, but poor box office as well. It was a financial failure; grossing a pathetic $14,886,015 (worldwide) on a $39 million budget.  The critics were especially harsh in their assessment of the film; Roger Ebert gave it half a star.  While it may not have been “the death of cinema,” it essentially ended the movie careers of directing/writing team of Deborah Kaplan and Harry Elfont.

It has baffled me why Josie and the Pussycats performed so poorly at the box office. After all, a movie doesn’t necessarily have to be good in order to be a huge success; just look at the Transformers movies. There a few reasons, I believe, why the movie did extremely poor business:

1)      The source material.  As I mentioned earlier, Josie and the Pussycats wasn’t exactly a beloved cartoon.  In fact, I’m willing to bet that the only exposure most people had to Josie and the Pussycats was their guest appearance on The New Scooby Doo Movies; the cartoon was rarely shown on syndication.  In the 1990s, the Cartoon Network did air a few episodes before replacing them with a better known cartoon.  I remember catching one or two episodes and thinking to myself, “This is a second rate Scooby Doo!” 

 On the flip side, devoted fans (all three of them) of the cartoon would probably hate the movie adaptation, because, other than the name of the band, it has almost nothing in common with the show.  Even the music is different; in the cartoon, Josie and her pals played pop rock, whereas in the movie they are more punkish.

2)      The Teen Cycle.  In 2001, the cycle of teen movies was beginning to wear thin.  Audiences were beginning to get sick of these movies and were moving on to better things; two huge fantasy movies would open later that year to great commercial and critical success, Harry Potter and the Sorceror’s Stone and Lord of the Rings: Fellowship of the Ring. Thus, beginning the rise of the nerd culture.  Hollywood rediscovered the teenage audience in 1996 with the release of Scream. It was a huge success, both financially and critically, and lead to countless imitations and sequels.  This would carry over to the music industry as well; in less than a year’s time the music charts would be dominated by boy bands and female pop singers (it’s important to remember this last point, because Josie and the Pussycats satires the whole teen music scene).  The problem with the teen audience is that it is in a constant state of flux; the same crowd that made Scream a hit in 1996 would probably have little desire to watch Josie and the Pussycats in 2001. Five years maybe a short time, but it’s a huge difference in the lives of teenagers. If Josie and the Pussycats would have been released a year or two earlier, then maybe, it would have done better at the box office. 

3)      Target audience. What audience was Josie and the Pussycats trying to reach? Universal tried to sell it as a teen comedy, but it really isn’t.  It lacks the tropes that are largely associated with the teen movie. For instance, it’s not set in a high school, nor is there a well choreographed dance scene at the movie’s climax.  Also, all teen comedies tend be small, self contained stories; they rarely leave their small town setting.  Josie and the Pussycats is a lot more epic in scope; the movie begins in the small town of Riverdale, but in flash the girls are flown to the big city to make their music dreams come true. There’s also a subplot involving the disappearance of a boy band, Du Jour.  It is a far more ambitious movie than She’s All That or Ten Things I hate About You, therefore, it probably wouldn’t resonate with a tween audience, who have grown accustomed to seeing  Freddie Prinze, Jr win the girl at the end.  It doesn’t work as nostalgia (like Scooby Doo did a year later), because the 1970s cartoon (and comic book) is too obscure. It surely didn’t appeal to the college crowd, largely because it was promoted as being yet another teen comedy.  It is certainly one of the oddest movies to ever come out of a major studio. 

I was working at North Shore Cinemas in 2001, which means I could see movies for free. So, on a whim, I decided to check out Josie and the Pussycats; I was curious to see just how bad it truly was. Maybe, it was due to my low expectations, but I walked out of the theatre completely surprised by the fact that I liked the movie. I was in denial over this fact for some time. I was a film student at UWM; I’m not supposed to like drivel like Josie and the Pussycats. After all, it signified the “Death of Cinema.” When people asked me about the movie, I would merely reply that “it wasn't as bad as I thought it would be.” However, I was reluctant to admit I liked it. When I watched it again on cable, I finally had to face the reality of the situation…I LIKED JOSIE AND THE PUSSYCATS!  I would even go as far to say that it is a genuinely good movie, despite Roger Ebert’s negative review. However, a few critics stepped forward (namely Nathan Rabin of the Onion) and bravely admitted to liking the movie. It made me feel good to know that I was not alone. 

Josie and the Pussycats certainly has its share of flaws; the biggest among them is Tara Reid as the air headed drummer, Mel. Granted, it’s a role that perfectly suits Reid limitations as an actress, but her one note performance gets a bit tiresome after awhile.  Also, the fight scene between her and former TRL host (and ultra tool) Carson Daly completely falls flat! The fight ends with Reid telling Daly that she would never go out with a guy like him. This is an injoke (at the time) as Reid and Daly were dating in real life. It is a groan inducing moment!  It makes even less sense now, considering the two of them broke up shortly after the movie. Thankfully, this joke proves to be the exception rather than the rule.  It is a shame that the filmmakers allowed Daly to appear in the movie, as it dulls the satire; instead of being a merciless attack on the music industry, it’s merely a friendly slap on the wrist. 

While Josie and the Pussycats may fail as a satire, it does make some rather valid points about the music industry; the girls are signed by the record label not because they have any musical talent, but rather they have the right look. Image is everything and the music exec, Wyatt, realizes that the three of them would make a great CD cover.  They happen to be at the right place at the right time; Wyatt has really no interest in their music.  I often wonder how different Britney Spears’ career might have been had the video for “Baby, One More Time” been a rather bland and forgettable affair.  Would teenagers have responded to video if it consisted of her dressed in a t-shirt and jeans singing to some dude across a room, instead of her prancing about in a skimpy school girl outfit? It was essentially the video that sold the song, which, in turn, led to Britney Spears becoming a pop culture phenomenon.  Britney Spears is a great example about how the look is more important than the actual music.  Ditto with the Backstreets Boys and all the other teen sensations that were big in the late 90s.  The movie even acknowledges the short shelf life of most teen pop stars; in the beginning the boy band, Du Jour, is supposedly killed in a plane accident. There is a brief tribute to them on MTV News, which ends with an in memory of "Du Jour 2000 – 2001." It also announces that their record label is going to release special editions of their albums to commemorate this loss.  Their music is not so much a work of artistic expression as it is product that is meant to be consumed and forgotten about. 

Commercialism has run amuk in the world of Josie and the Pussycats; Du Jour’s personal jet airplane has the Target logo painted on its walls. One shot is framed so that when can of Dr. Pepper is thrown into the foreground is aligned with a huge Dr. Pepper billboard in the background. The McDonald's logo lines the walls of Mel's hotel shower.

Even the popular music is just another ad space; the powers that be want to use the girls’ music into brainwashing the youth of America into accepting the newest trends, which they hope to achieve by implanting subliminal messages into their songs.  Josie and her friends are unknowing pawns in this scheme; in one scene, which follows a quick montage of the girls literally climbing up the charts, Josie asks Val and Mel if they find their meteoric rise to the fame odd. They ponder this for a second and then in unison shout, “NO!”  Wyatt momentarily breaks a sweat, afraid that he might have to replace the girls with a much more agreeable band.  It is a cyclical occurrence; when Du Jour starts to get wise to the tinkering that has been done with their music, Wyatt orders them to be killed, and the parachutes out of the plane, along with the pilots, abandoning the boys to a (seemingly) fiery end.

Deborah Kaplan and Harry Elfont are an extremely flawed but interesting writing/directing team; their best known movie is probably Can’t Hardly Wait, starring Jennifer Love Hewitt and Ethan Embry.  Their screenplays tend to be a bit muddled at times; this is especially true for Josie and the Pussycats, where supporting characters have a habit of disappearing for long stretches of the movie.  The character that suffers most is Alan M, Josie’s love interest, who fails to make an impression, because he is given very little to do. He comes off as kind of dense; it's not until Josie is given an elaborate make over that he notices that she's actually quite beautiful.  Who knows? Maybe Kaplan and Elfont were sending up She's All That, also starring Rachael Leigh Cook. The romance seems like an after thought; the filmmakers realized they had to appease some convention of the genre, so they shoe horned in Alan M.  It's amazing just how irrelevant he is to the entire story line.

A similar flaw can be found in Can’t Hardly Wait, when Denise (Lauren Ambrose) inexplicable ends up sleeping with Kenny (Seth Green), solely due to the fact that two of them share a pleasant moment (after endlessly bickering for most of the film). It feels absolutely forced and a complete betrayal of the Denise character; she's arguably the most interesting character in the movie, hence it's you feel cheated when she ends up with a loser like Kenny.

On the other hand, there are lot of creative visuals in the films of Kaplan and Elfont; the best example is the introduction of Josie and the Pussycats at the beginning of the film. The girls are seen in close ups, playing their instruments in an unspecified location. They perform a rousing rendition of the (catchy) song “Three Small Words,” then the camera pulls back to reveal that they are playing a gig at a bowling alley. The bowlers respond with complete indifference and carry on with their bowling; the girls are paid five dollars for their effort.  It’s an extremely effective introduction; through a single movement of the camera, we are told all we need to know about the girls and their current situation.  After the show, Josie comments that this may have been their best gig yet. Which makes you wonder what their other gigs must have been like. 

The funniest moment in the entire film is the reappearance of Du Jour at the end of the film. One of the members of the band, Les (Alexander Martin) emerges from the shadows and reveals that he successfully landed in the airplane, and now he, along with his band mates are going to stop Fiona from carrying out her nefarious scheme. The audience is lead to be that the cavalry has come to the rescue; then the camera pans over to reveal that other DuJour members are wrapped in body casts and and barely able to move. Les reveals that he landed the plane in the parking lot of a Metallica concert, and that their rowdy fans "kicked the crap" out of them.  It is an extremely funny pay off to the Du Jour story line.

It is also to Kaplan and Elfont's credit that the characters of Josie and Val never devolve into full fledged cartoon cartoons; they are the glue that holds everything together. If Rachael Leigh Cook and Rosario Dawson would have gone for a more broad, over the top approach, the movie would be overbearing and an absolute pain to watch.  It's easy to root for Josie and Val, because both are immensely likable characters. They also prove perfect foils Fiona (Parker Posey) and Wyatt (Alan Cumming). Posey is wonderfully over the top as the head of record company, Fiona, who despite her success suffers from an inferiority complex; the scene in which she tries to bond with the girls by holding a slumber party is both awkward and hilarious at the same time.  Cumming, however, steals the movie as the always scheming Wyatt. His icy cold demeanor is really a mask he wears, a way to distance himself from a painful childhood. He takes extreme delight in belittling those that he believes are his inferiors, and shows no signs of remorse when he orders Du Jour to be liquidated; murder is all in a day's work to him. 

Josie and the Pussycats is a from a perfect movie, but certainly wasn't deserving of the scorn that it received during its initial release in 2001. It is a fairly clever movie with genuinely fun and likable characters, and, most surprising of all, a fairly good soundtrack. There are certainly for worse ways you could spend your 99 minutes.

Cast: Rachael Leigh Cook (Josie), Rosario Dawson (Val), Tara Reid (Mel), Parker Posey (Fiona), Alan Cumming (Wyatt), Gabriel Mann (Alan M), Paulo Costanzo (Alexander), Missi Pyle (Alexandra), Alexander Martin (Les), Tom Butler (Agent Kelly) Seth Green (Travis), Breckin Meyer (Marco), Donald Faison (D.J.), Eugene Levy (himself), Carson Daly (himself),Aries Spears (the other Carson Daly). 

Directors: Deborah Kaplan & Harry Elfont.
Screenplay: Deborah Kaplan & Harry Elfont.
Running Time: 99 min.

King Kong vs. Godzilla: The Remake

Gareth Edwards' Godzilla reboot has made a substantial amount at the box office and it has already been announced that there is going to be a sequel. The question is: What can they possibly do for a sequel? The answer is obvious - REMAKE King Kong Vs. Godzilla. I'm no talking about a gritty, bad ass remake, I'm talking a shot for shot, scene for scene remake of the 1963 Toho monster brawl.  I'm sure you are thinking, "That's blasphemy! King Kong Vs. Godzilla is a classic!" Okay, you probably were not thinking that! In fact, you were more than likely thing the exact opposite, and that's my point, King Kong Vs. Godzilla is ripe for a remake as it is one incredibly bad movie. Hell, it's bad even for a Godzilla movie! 

It's marred by one of the worst looking King Kong suits in cinema history; hell, it wouldn't cut mustard in a kindergarten pageant. It looks like director Ishiro Honda and Toho special effects crew dusted off whatever moth eaten ape suit they could find and figured that it was good enough. Not to mention, Kong's arms inexplicable change in length through the course of the movie; in one scene they are fairly stubby and in the next they are incredibly long. Kong looks more like a giant, furry mutation than an actual ape.

However, the only way to do this remake right would be to retain the silliness of the original film; a gritty reboot would look absolutely ridiculous. Part of the original's charm is it's wacky sense of humor; my favorite part being when Mr. Tako, the head of a pharmaceutical company, shouts, "King Kong can't make a monkey out of us." The last thing I want in a remake is a group of miserable people who look all sullen while two behemoths duke it out on the streets of Tokyo. King Kong vs.Godzilla is a silly premise, therefore it requires a campy approach to the material.  Therefore, I humbly suggest that Edward just xerox the script of the original film and upgrade its visual effects. Leave in the subplot about the magic berries that make Kong sleepy! The sight of a CG Kong getting stoned off of berry juice would be absolutely incredible! On the other hand, please change the end. It always irked me that Kong emerges triumphant in the end! I wanted Godzilla to vaporize that walking carpet!! C'mon Edwards, make it happen!

Conan the Destroyer (1984)

I rather have a soft spot for Conan the Destroyer, which is, admittedly, due to my first seeing it on television as a kid; it’s a movie that my cousins and I watched on a repeated basis every time we hung out. It’s appealed laid in the fact that it was, essentially, a live action He-Man and The Masters of the Universe; with Conan filling in the role He-Man (sans the secret identity) and Queen Taramis (Sarah Douglas) as an Evil-Lyn surrogate. 

There are also loads of wizardry on display, battles, a giant monster, and, most memorable of all, a fight with a Man Ape (which resembles a Masters of the Universe reject). The writers even find to time to throw a virginal princess into the proceedings.  The difference between the two programs is that, as an adult, I find The Masters of the Universe absolutely unwatchable, while I am still greatly amused by Conan the Destroyer. I would never be as bold to proclaim it as being a good movie, that was greatly “misunderstood” by the critics, but it does make for an entertaining piece of 80s nostalgia; provided that you are in the right mind set. 

Conan the Destroyer was an attempt by Universal Studios to turn the Conan franchise into more “family friendly” fare by toning down the violence and amplifying the comedy relief. As a result, it is tonally inconsistent at times; it goes from goofy comedy to bloody violence, often in the same scene. The only thing that really makes it more palpable to children is the lack of sex. Though, there is a subplot devoted to Princess Jehnna's "sexual awakening." She has been sheltered her entire life and Conan is the first "real" man she has ever encountered, hence she is naturally attracted to him. There is even a scene in which the bumbling sidekick, Malak, attempts to talk to her about the birds and bees, but to no avail.

 The violence in the first film, Conan the Barbarian, had been a great concern for some critics, and the studio felt that its R rating kept it from being a bigger hit. I always found this criticism odd as Conan the Barbarian is a story that demands violence; after all, it’s not called Conan the Peace Maker. What most critics also ignore is that Conan does suffer the consequences of his actions; the most obvious being the death of his first, and only, love, Valeria. At the beginning of Conan the Destroyer, he is still mourning the loss of Valeria.  Conan is so lost in his grief that Queen Taramis is able to use this to her advantage; she promises to reunite him with Valeria if he agrees to partake in a quest that her niece, Princess Jehnna, is “destined” to make. It is prophesied that, on her quest, Jehnna will find a key that will awaken the Dreaming God, Dagoth.  Conan is so singled minded in his desire to be reunited with Valeria that it never occurs to him that Queen Taramis is lying. It also never crosses his mind that awakening a God might have dangerous consequences; when Akiro tries to warn him, Conan tells him to shut up. It’s only at the film’s climax, after having been betrayed by Bombaata, that Conan is able to get overcome his grief and just narrowly save the world.

If there is a fatal flaw to Conan the Destroyer is that it lacks a dynamic villain; Wilt Chamberlain, as the Captain of the Guards Bombaata, is a towering presence, but he is just a glorified henchman.  Taramis assigns him the important task of protecting Princess Jehnna’s virginity; this maybe one of the most ironic pieces of casting in movie history given Chamberlain’s claim that he slept with over 20,000 women. Whether this was intentional on the part of the filmmakers has yet to be seen.

Sarah Douglas is striking, and sexy, as Queen Taramis, with her statuesque figure and ice cold demeanor, but she is criminally under used; most of her screen time occurs in the first twenty minutes of the movie. She reappears at the climax, where she, rather abruptly, meets her comeuppance at the hands, or should I say horn, of Dagoth. It is a rather ridiculous end to a potentially great villain. We are misled into believing that Taramis is a worthy foe due to her hypnotic capabilities, but all that gets tossed out at the end.

Interestingly enough, it is also implied that she is also a warrior queen; at the beginning of the film she is suited up in armor and rides out with her men when they attempt to capture Conan. If there was ever a woman that could tempt Conan, it would be Queen Taramis as she is cut from the same cloth as Valeria. They are both extremely strong willed women and tall in stature; there is actually a moment where Taramis seems taller than Conan.  A better screenplay would have tossed out the whole Dagoth nonsense and focused primarily on Queen Taramis.  Sarah Douglas certainly has the acting chops to pull it off; she memorably played the evil Kryptonian, Ursa, in Superman II.

There is also a secondary villain in the form of Toth-Amon, a wizard who has in his possession a diamond Jehnna needs complete her quest.  He is merely a bump in the road and doesn't really have much purpose to the overall narrative. Though, his character is responsible for most memorable moment in the movie, Conan fighting an Man Ape monster in a room of mirrors. I admit the reveal of the monster scared me when I was a kid; it emerges from a mirror with its face obscured by a red hood. The audience is lead to believe this is the wizard Toth-Amon (who has a long, scraggly beard and one good eye), but then it pulls back the hood to reveal this ugly face:

AAAAAAAAAHHHHH! Well, that was my reaction when I was seven years-old.
My favorite bit is when the Man Ape grabs Conan by the ankles and swings him around in a circle. The look of bewilderment on Conan’s face never ceases to crack me up.  However, Conan’s discovery of Man Ape’s Achille’s Heel is fairly comical; he swings his sword backwards and accidentally smashes a mirror which, in turn, inflicts a huge injury on the monster’s body.

There are two heroines in Conan the Destroyer, Zula (Grace Jones ) and Princess Jehnna (Olivia d’Abo). It often feels like the writers took the character of Valeria and divided her into two different characters; Zula is a warrior, while Jehnna is the love interest, though it is more of a case of unrequited love. Jehnna develops a case of puppy dog love for Conan, but he never reciprocates her feelings.  This is done for two reasons:

1)      Valeria is the love of Conan’s life and no other woman could ever replace her.  When Jehnna asks if there could ever be another, Conan promptly replies, “Not on your life!”

2)      Olivia d’Abo was fifteen years-old while making this movie, hence it would feel downright sleazy to have Conan marry her in the end. They share a brief kiss at the end, but Conan is fairly indifferent to it.


However, it's also an example of how being politically correct can neuter a movie. Throughout the course of the movie so much is made of Jehnna's virginity; Queen Taramis sends Bombaata along on the quest to insure that Jehnna comes back as virgin, otherwise she won't make for a suitable sacrifice to Dagoth. The queen genuinely fears that Conan might have his way with Jehnna and when the princess develops a crush on him, it seems that her fears maybe well founded. It feels like the filmmakers are setting up a conflict for later in the movie; Will Conan give into his innermost temptations?  Jehnna constantly expresses her desire to be with Conan, however, this all proves to be a red herring.  Conan finds Jehnna to be rather petulant and is never tempted by her in the slightest. Jehnna, despite being smitten with Conan, never puts forth a real effort into seducing him. 

It doesn't help that Jehnna is completely devoid of a personality; she is solely defined by her relationship, or lack thereof, to Conan. Olivia d’Abo was awarded the Razzie for Worst New Star of 1984 (for her appearances in this film and the Bo Derek softcore porn, Bolero), but I find this to be a tad bit harsh. I think d’Abo does a fine job, given the circumstances; this was her first major role and she was given the assignment of bringing a completely underwritten character to life.  Hell, even a well respected actress would struggle with this character; just look at how bland Natalie Portman was in the Star Wars prequels. The fact that Jehnna isn't a totally unlikable character is a credit to d’Abo. 

Zula is another wasted opportunity.  Grace Jones with her androgynous features has a genuine screen presence, but too often her character fades into the background, while Conan and Bombaata are kicking some serious butt. Her main function is to be a sort of mentor to Jehnna; in the film’s funniest moment, Jehnna asks Zula how to get a man and Zula replies, “Grab him! And take him!”  Zula is a character who is driven by pure impulse and doesn’t have time for romantic nonsense. In another scene, Jehnna, hoping to impress Conan, asks Zula to teach her how to fight, but this gets interrupted by a drunken Conan, who rather, ineffectively, teaches Jehnna how to wield a sword. It’s a nice, humorous moment that successfully makes Conan more “human,” instead of the indestructible superman that often dominates the genre.  It must be said that Schwarzenegger, for all his limitations as an actor, is fairly adept at playing comedy.

 

The main problem with both of these female leads is that they fail to measure up to the character of Valeria from the previous film. Granted, this might have been intentional on the part of the writers, but because Zula and Jehnna are essentially the two sides of Valeria, they seem rather diluted at times;  Zula is a strong warrior, but she lacks Valeria’s warmth.  Jehnna is in love with Conan, but she is a rather weak willed character.  In Conan the Barbarian, Valeria was played by Sandahl Bergman, who with her piercing eyes and physical prowess made for a believable movie heroine.   For instance, compare Bergman’s fight scenes in Conan the Barbarian to Keira Knightley’s in the awful Pirates of the Caribbean sequels; despite all the fancy fight choreography, it is hard to believe that Knightly could ever hold her own in a sword fight, largely due to her twig-like figure.  On the other hand, it’s easy to believe that Bergman could stand her ground in a fight, because she has the physique of an athlete; she was a dancer in real life. In Conan the Barbarian, Valeria was Conan’s equal and even went so far as to fight the Gods for his life, on the other hand, in Conan the Destroyer, both Jehnna and Zula seem to be in constant awe of the man.  However, I will give the film this; there at least isn't a scene in which Jehnna inexplicably becomes an expert sword fighter, because the script demands it.  That’s what always irked me about the Pirates of the Caribbean sequels is how Elizabeth (Keira Knightley) goes from being the pampered daughter of a governor to a sword wielding badass without any transition. She just randomly picks up a sword and can hold her own against an expert.   

The two other members of Conan’s ragtag band of adventures are Malak (Tracey Walter) and Akiro (Mako). Malak is Conan’s bumbling sidekick who often complains about the lack of respect he is given.  In the first movie, Conan’s sidekick was Subotai, and while he was a source of humor, he was also a fairly competent warrior; the same cannot be said of Malak.  He is, in many ways, the audience surrogate in that he is often asking questions and expressing doubts about certain things, unfortunately, he is also pretty damn annoying at times. You often wish he would just shut his trap and let Conan go about his business. Though, there is a rather amusing scene, late in the film, where he keeps gabbing on about his "brother's sister's cousin."

Akiro serves multi-functions in the film; he is the minor comedy relief, a wizard, and, more importantly, the narrator of the story. Other than Conan, he is the only returning character from the first film. Mako's offbeat performance, in both films, is a lot of fun. It may not be the most complex characterization, but he manages to inject a lot of energy and humor into what could have been a rather thankless role.

Arnold Schwarzenegger is perfectly cast as Conan. It is a role that plays to his strengths as an actor; it highlights his muscular physique and gives him very little dialogue. I always felt that Schwarzenegger would have made a great silent actor, because not only does he have a magnificent physique, but a fairly expressive face as well. In Conan the Barbarian, the character becomes confident to the point arrogance, but that all changes when he loses Valeria. In Conan the Destroyer, he is a lost soul. At the beginning of the movie, he is wasting his potential on petty acts of thievery. At the movie's end, he is all alone; all of his companions stay behind to aide Jehnna in ruling her kingdom. He is not the cocksure protagonist of the first film, but rather an endless drifter. Conan keeps a stone face for most of the film, but his sad eyes tell the true story. Though, he is  not entirely dour, he does possess a sense of humor. I especially like this exchange between him and Jehnna:

Jehnna: I suppose nothing hurts you.
Conan: Only pain.

Conan is also far more cautious in the sequel; rather than blindly charging in and taking on Toth-Amon single handedly, Conan takes a short a detour to pick up Akiro, because he knows he'll need "magic to fight magic." In the first film, he tries to take on cult leader, Thulsa Doom, all by himself and is nearly killed for his efforts. He is stark contrast to Sylvester Stallone's John Rambo, who single handedly defeats the Vietnamese Army (and Russians) in Rambo: First Blood, Part II.  Though, it is a lot of fun to see Conan beat up on opponents twice his size.

The producers couldn't get John Milius to direct the sequel, so they turned to veteran director, Richard Fleischer. Fleischer had a rather long and interesting career in Hollywood;  he was at the helm of some genuinely good movies (20,000 Leagues Under the Sea, The Narrow Margin, Armored Car Robbery) and a few legendary turkeys (Che!, The Jazz Singer, Red Sonja). The best word to describe his direction is anonymous; he was a journeyman director who didn't have a distinct style, so he made a career aping other directors. In Conan the Destroyer, he seems content in doing his best John Milius impersonation, sans Milius' unapologetic approach to the material. Whether one likes or despises Milius, he was at least passionate about his film projects. Conan the Destroyer, on the other hand, was just another job for Richard Fleischer, and it often shows. Fleischer does have a knack for staging action scenes; the fight scenes in Conan the Destroyer are always comprehensible and exciting to watch. It's the non-action scenes that prove to be problematic.

The biggest asset to Conan the Destroyer is Jack Cardiff's beautiful cinematography, which gives the movie a lavish look; making it look far bigger than it actually is. The opening shot (of horses riding through the desert) is something you would expect to find in an epic like Lawrence of Arabia, not in a silly sword and sorcery film. It is almost enough to make you overlook the flaws in the script. 

Cast: Arnold Schwarzenegger (Conan), Olivia d’Abo (Princess Jehnna), Wilt Chamberlain (Bombaata), Grace Jones (Zula), Sarah Douglas (Queen Taramis), Tracey Walter (Malak), Mako (Akiro), Pat Roach (Man Ape/Toth-Amon), Jeff Corey (Grand Vizier), Ferdy Mayne (Leader), Sven-Ole Thorsen (Togra).

Director: Richard Fleischer
Screenplay: Stanley Mann.  Story by Roy Thomas and Gerry Conway.
Running Time: 101 min.

Way Out West (1937)

It’s really hard to describe the impact that Laurel and Hardy had on my life; they were my gateway to classic cinema. I first saw Way Out West when I was six years old (in 1985) and was amazed to find that I actually enjoyed a movie that my father found hilarious. Prior to this, I spent most of my time watching He-Man (and other dreadful 1980s cartoons) and had no desire whatsoever to watch “old” movies. When my dad purchased Way Out West on video (a colorized copy), I was absolutely skeptical. “It’s so old,” I cried. “How can it possibly be any good?”  Then I watched it and I have been hooked on Laurel and Hardy ever since. If this “old” movie was funny, then maybe other “old” movies were just as good, too.

Way Out West is my favorite Laurel and Hardy film. It is well directed by James W. Horne, who not only manages to get great performances from his supporting cast, but more, importantly never allows for the pace to lag; it is an extremely fast moving film. Way Out West is, thankfully, devoid of the unnecessary romantic subplot that often plagued comedies from that era (for a good example, see Bonnie Scotland, or The Marx Brothers' A Day at the Races). It also benefits from a great supporting cast: James Finlayson as the shady bar owner, Mickey Finn, Stanley Fields as the gruff Sheriff, and, most memorably, Sharon Lynn as the bitchy saloon singer, and Finn's wife, Lola Marcel.  Finlayson was a regular member of the Laurel and Hardy stock company and always proved to be a great foil for the boys. 

This was  Stanley Fields only appearance in a Laurel and Hardy film, but he is convincingly menacing in the role of the Sheriff. My favorite bit is when he tells the boys to get out of town in the next coach, or they’ll riding out of town in a hearse. Then after having made his threat, he adds, “Good day, strangers.”

Lynn is genuinely funny as Lola, especially when pretending to be Mary Roberts; she dabbles in  melodrama by adopting a fake southern accent and exaggerated body gestures (putting the back of her hand to her forehead, etc).  In the tradition of Laurel and Hardy, she is a very domineering woman and completely has Mickey Finn whipped.  She can turn on the charm in a heartbeat, but when crossed, LOOK OUT!!! 

What also helps Way Out West is that it actually has a solid story to build its jokes on; the boys have been entrusted to deliver the deed to a gold mine to Mary Roberts, the daughter of a deceased prospector. Mary lives in Brushwood Gulch with her guardians, Mickey and Lola, who treat her like a slave. When Finn finds out why the boys are in town, he tricks them into giving him the deed by having Lola pose as Mary.  The boys eventually get wise to the ruse and the rest of the movie concerns them trying to steal the deed back, so they can give it to the “real” Mary Roberts.  This adds an element of suspense that is generally lacking in Laurel and Hardy’s films, because we are curious to see whether or not the boys will succeed in their goal.  Mary Robert is played by Rosina Lawrence, who is fairly likable in the role, even if she isn't really given much to do.

Way Out West has four musical numbers in it, but they actually add to the charm, rather than detract from the overall comedy. The opening scene has Lola doing a song and dancer number at the saloon, “Will You Be My Lovey Dovey,” and is punctuated by shots of old men ogling her. The scene ends when one of the wives of the men arrives unexpectedly and starts slapping him across the head. This is the main reason why the musical numbers in Way Out West work so well; the filmmakers wisely incorporate comedy into the narrative. Compare this to the Marx Brother’s vastly overrated A Day at the Races (released the same year) where the comedy comes to a complete standstill while Allan Jones warbles out a few tunes. These musical numbers are completely dull and seem to go on forever.  Not only are the songs in Way Out West catchy, but they are fairly short, too. The most endearing scene in the film is when Stan and Ollie do a soft shoe dance while the Avalon Boys sing, “At the Ball.” From a narrative stand point there’s no reason for this scene to exist, but it is an absolute joy to watch, and, more importantly, it feels organic to the actual movie. They are about to enter Finn’s saloon, but notice the Avalon Boys singing and stop to listen to them. The music eventually overtakes them and they being to dance. It is a very naturalistic moment and doesn't seem contrived, unlike the dreadful musical numbers in A Day at the Races. 

Way Out West is loaded with hilarious comedy bits, here are a few of my favorite moments: 

Stan and Ollie have hitched a ride in a stagecoach and find that the other passenger is an attractive blonde (Vivien Oakland).  Ollie attempts to flirt with her and breaks the ice with, “A lot of weather we’ve been having.” He then follows up with, “Only four months until Christmas.”

 The movie repeatedly cuts to a close up of the woman who constantly wears an annoyed expression on her face. In a turn of events, it is revealed that the woman is the Sheriff’s wife.  She complains to her husband that Stan and Ollie annoyed her throughout the entire trip and he then tells them to take the next stagecoach out of town, or else. It’s a quintessential Laurel and Hardy moment; they are genuinely well meaning guys, but they have a tendency to get on other people’s nerves.

After having learned of Mickey and Lola's deception, Stan and Ollie confront them, and it turns into one big wrestling match; the deed constantly changes between hands and Stan ultimately stuffs it in his shirt, this leads to risque scene in which Lola locks Stan in her bedroom and then wrestles the deed away from him underneath her bed. Stan is extremely ticklish and whenever he is touched by Lola, he begins to laugh maniacally. This scene is interesting, because, with the exception of a few bits of dialogue, it plays like a silent movie; the humor is completely visual. 

Stanley's ability to use his thumb as a lighter. This gag gets repeated throughout the film; whenever the boys need a light, Stanley will snap his thumb and a flame with shoot out from the tip of it. This baffles Oliver and he constantly attempts to do it himself and, after numerous failures, is finally successful, but this completely freaks him out and he begins to scream, nearly blowing the boys cover in the process. 

Way Out West is one of the earliest movies to directly reference another movie, in this case Frank Capra's It Happened One Night. In that film, Clark Gable and Claudette Colbert are attempt to hitchhike, but with no success. Finally, Colbert is able to get a motorist to stop by slightly pulling up her dress and revealing her shapely leg. In Way Out West, Stan and Ollie are trying to catch a stagecoach, but with little success. Finally, Stan is able to get a stagecoach to stop by rolling up his trousers and showing off his right leg. It's a joke that would have resonated with 1930s audiences, yet is still able to work on it's own merits. When I first saw this movie when I was six, I (obviously) had not seen It Happened One Night, but I still laughed at this moment; it is so wonderfully absurd.  

While the film is brimming with slapstick, there is a lot of extremely funny dialogue as well. My favorite exchanges is Lola, impersonating Mary, asks, "Tell me about my dear, dear Daddy! Is it true that he's dead?"
To which Stan replies,"We hope so, they buried him."  

Way Out West is the kind of movie that gets ignore when film critics/historians (namely AFI) compose their Greatest Films list. It's certainly not a top 10 film, but it's definitely on par with the likes of Duck Soup and A Night at the Opera (critics have a raging hard on for the Marx Brothers), movies that often end up on  top 100 lists. C'mon AFI. 

Note: Just for the record I like the Marx Brothers. Duck Soup is one of my favorite comedies, but I definitely prefer Laurel and Hardy. 

Just for the hell of it, here are my top 10 Laurel and Hardy movies:

1)      Way Out West (obviously) (1937)

2)      The Music Box (1932)

3)      Sons of the Desert (1933)

4)      Two Tars (1928)

5)      Men O’ War (1929)

6)      Big Business (1929)

7)      Babes in Toyland (1934)

8)      Blotto (1930)

9)      Me and My Pal (1933)

10) The Live Ghost (1934)

Credits

Cast: Stan Laurel (Stanley), Oliver Hardy (Ollie), James Finlayson (Mickey Finn), Sharon Lynn (Lola Marcel), Rosina Lawrence (Mary Roberts), Stanley Fields (Sheriff), Vivien Oakland (Sheriff’s wife), The Avalon Boys (Singers), Harry Bernard (Man Eating at Bar), Tex Driscoll (Paw), Flora Finch (Maw), Mary Gordon (Cook).

Director: James W. Horne
Screenplay: Charley Rogers, Felix Adler, James Parrott.
Running Time:  65 min.