Smith's Verdict

Smith’s Verdict: ***

Reviewed by Tanner Smith

There is a clock in each shot. Trickery is used for pivotal sequences. The film is in black-and-white, save for certain random things in color…or are they random? And here we have “Rumble Fish,” the self-proclaimed “art film for young people.” It’s an arty piece of work full of stunning cinematography, unique visual effects, and a lot of symbolism. It’s based on a novel by S.E. Hinton, which apparently no one thought could be filmable except for Francis Ford Coppola, one of the most inventive filmmakers around. But he found a way—the result is not an entertaining film, but a fascinating one nonetheless.

This is Coppola’s second collaboration with Hinton after “The Outsiders.” Apparently right after Coppola and his crew were through with production on “The Outsiders,” Coppola decided to go another round (this time, co-writing “Rumble Fish” along with Hinton, adapting her own novel). Why not?

Like most of Hinton’s stories, “Rumble Fish” is about a band of tough, hard-luck teenagers who get by in their own ways, for better or worse. This one is centered around two brothers—one who can’t live up to the other’s reputation, and the other who can’t live it down. Rusty-James (Matt Dillon) is a hothead who acts tough, but doesn’t have a real gang to follow him or even a real battle to fight. He’s not bright enough to be a leader, but dumb enough to get himself into trouble. He’s no different than Biff Wilcox (Glenn Withrow), a similarly pathetic thug who calls Rusty-James out.

Rusty-James’ brother is a heroic figure simply regarded as the Motorcycle Boy (Mickey Rourke). He’s a born leader and a trouper of gang warfare. He’s also very clever and intelligent—everything Rusty-James isn’t. After being gone for a few months, he has returned to give Rusty-James some life lessons. And he better, because their father, a lazy drunk (Dennis Hopper), is of no help at all. In and out of Rusty-James’ life are his sometimes-girlfriend Patty (Diane Lane); his nervous best friend Steve (Vincent Spano); a “Messenger of the Gods” type nicknamed Midget (Laurence Fishburne); and his unreliable friend Smokey (Nicholas Cage) who believes he could be a gang leader. That’s about as much of a story as we get, with the tired and self-reformed Motorcycle Boy here with one simple purpose—to show Rusty-James what he’s constantly getting himself into.

Symbolism in “Rumble Fish” includes clocks in nearly every scene (including two characters standing in front of a giant clock-face) and fast-moving billowy clouds (whether they be in straight shots or in reflections). This is obviously supposed to symbolize that time for Rusty-James is running out before he develops as big a reputation as the troubled Motorcycle Boy. It’s also great to look out—the exaggerated imagery actually amounts to something, rather than giving us something pretty to look at with no substance in the story. Here, I actually felt there was something being said within the imagery. There are also red and blue fish (the only objects shown in color throughout the film) that are supposed to represent the relationship between the two brothers. How the Motorcycle Boy explains what they represent is thought-provoking.

That’s not to say this form doesn’t have its flaws. Sometimes, the symbolism can be a little too obvious, while other times it comes off as pretty distracting. But for the most part, it does work effectively.

There’s one great effects sequence in which Rusty-James has an out-of-body experience after getting hit in the head. He levitates in the air as he literally watches his life drift by. However the filmmakers did that effect that made Matt Dillon float in the air is outstanding work on their part. Watch the scene, and tell me if you see any wires.

As an art film, the imagery and cinematography seems to overshadow the actors, but they hold up on their own. Matt Dillon has played dumb tough kids for quite some time (“Over the Edge,” “My Bodyguard,” and other Hinton film adaptations, “Tex” and “The Outsiders”), but he’s still pretty strong in the role that requires him to change from tough to weak. However, if there’s one actor that stands out among the rest, it’s definitely Mickey Rourke, who is just excellent as the Motorcycle Boy. He has such quiet authority in a role that could’ve been thankless, but he makes it into a sensible, intelligent, intriguing individual. He’s like a veteran actor who suddenly got tired of the fame that his past has brought him, and would rather live it down. Rourke is outstanding in this movie.

“Rumble Fish” is a showcase of allegory, dilemma, and emotion. It’s quite different from “Tex” and “The Outsiders” in that way, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t fascinating. It’s original, it moves, and somewhat to my surprise I found myself more invested in the tales of the reigning Motorcycle Boy.

Smith’s Verdict: ***

Reviewed by Tanner Smith

“Eddie and the Cruisers” is a movie about members of a rock band from almost 20 years ago who look back on how they got together, how they became famous, and what led to their end. They were called Eddie and the Cruisers—not a real band (a fictional one), but they seem like one in this movie. They reached their end when the band’s frontman Eddie Wilson disappeared—his car was found in a lake, but his body was never recovered. Some believe he is dead and others believe he is still alive. But if he’s dead, then what happened to the missing songs that were recorded by him? Surely, none of the other band members took them. A reporter (Ellen Barkin) is attempting to create the biggest story of her career by finding out what happened to those missing tapes. So she visits the band’s keyboardist and songwriter Frank (Tom Berenger), who is now a high school teacher.

We get many flashbacks in between the scenes in which Frank meets up again with other former Cruisers. We see how Frank wound up into the band—he suggests some poems for lyrics which were unappreciated at first but accepted eventually, being affectionately dubbed “the wordman.” He himself is unappreciated, as he realizes when Eddie (Michael Pare) shouts out every band member—including bassist Sal Amato (Matthew Laurence), band manager Doc (Joe Pantoliano), and Eddie’s beautiful girlfriend Joann Carlino (Helen Schneider)—except him. But soon, Eddie reconciles with Frank, saying they “need each other.”

It’s fun to see the Cruisers look back on the good old days after all these years. Doc is a DJ who is trying so hard to get the band known again but he’s in over his head. Sal is still in the music business, with a new lineup of Cruisers. Joann also can’t let go of the past and when she meets Frank, she tells him that Eddie is still alive but not showing himself—he’s performing signals he taught her years ago. But is Eddie still alive? And did he take those tapes? Everything builds up to an ending that is probably not an ending you would expect. Not many viewers will even accept it, but I bought it, at least.

Michael Pare is convincing as a rock star performing onstage, Tom Berenger is effective in the lead role as the “wordman” and the soundtrack is terrific. Also, the drama works in “Eddie and the Cruisers,” especially in the scene in which Eddie is thinking about ending it all because the band is not great. He questions the point of having a band if they’re not great. That scene really moved me in such a way that maybe I didn’t need a better ending, but I can make do with what I have right in front of me. “Eddie and the Cruisers” is a good movie—well-acted with a great soundtrack and a sense of biography. I feel like I knew Eddie and the Cruisers right when the movie ended.

Smith’s Verdict: ***

Reviewed by Tanner Smith

John Carpenter’s “Christine” is a nicely-crafted horror film about a teenage boy and his car. The boy is a high school nerd named Arnie who wears thick glasses, is very insecure, and is constantly picked on by the school thugs. The car is a ‘50s Plymouth dubbed “Christine” that Arnie finds rusting in a junkyard. He doesn’t care that its original owner killed himself in the car or that some folks around it have died tragically back in the day—he’s just entranced by the car. He buys it, rebuilds it, and develops a certain bond with it.

Of course, teenagers develop a bond with their first car. It becomes a part of them—they look out for their cars, they make sure not one part of it is scratched, and they even talk to their cars at times. But in Arnie’s case, it’s different. Not only does having this new car affect his social life (in that he actually develops one, finally) and boost his self-esteem (like talking back to people, including his overbearing parents), but it also turns out that Christine—the car—has a mind of its own. It moves on its own and even repairs itself after the bullies trash it to junk.

And so, Christine uses its willpower, without a driver, to chase after Arnie’s enemies and run them down—there’s a great scene in which it forces its way through a narrow alley to get to one of the bullies, and another in which another bully is desperately running down the street trying to outrun the car (set ablaze this time—the guy doesn’t have a prayer). But there’s a bigger issue in its “mind,” I should say—Arnie is dating the prettiest girl in school, which makes Christine so jealous that it takes many measures to try and run her down as well. Arnie himself develops into a real scuzzy personality, letting Christine’s power over him take what’s left of his meekness and replace it with a blend of super-coolness and madness.

It’s a nice work of fantasy and horror—the idea of a guy getting his first car that turns out to be alive is an exciting one. That it goes after its owner’s girlfriend may make the movie sound ridiculous, and it is. But I enjoyed it because with John Carpenter’s direction, the movie wants to play how it would occur if it were plausible. Carpenter also does a good job with the three central young actors—Keith Gordon as Arnie, Alexandra Paul as Arnie’s girlfriend, and John Stockwell as Arnie’s best friend, a likable jock that tries to pull Arnie out of Christine’s spell.

I also liked the use of old songs in the score. When someone tries to break into the garage where Christine is kept, its radio plays “Keep-a Knockin’ But You Can’t Come In” as a warning. And whenever Arnie is alone in the car, the radio plays old love songs. See, the radio only plays songs from the 1950s, since that’s when it was created and uses these songs to speak its mind. That’s a clever idea.

“Christine” is an ambitious, well-acted, well-executed horror movie that takes teenage fantasy as a deal with the devil. Yeah, the story is out there, and there are some things that don’t work (see NOTE), but there are many other moments that had me grinning and invested, right down to the final climax where it’s the ‘50s Plymouth Fury “Christine” versus a bulldozer.

NOTE: I’ve read a few posts on “Christine’s” IMDb message board and one of which, not caring much for the movie, said that there could be a remake that was closer to the original Stephen King novel it was based on. I’ve never read the novel, so I don’t know how close this movie adapts it. However, there are certain clichés that can be found in Stephen King stories and they are found here. One main clichéd element—everyone except for the main characters is a one-dimensional jackass. The bullies are the knife-wielding bores, the parents don’t listen (the mother, in particular, is over the top in authority), and the man who runs the body shop (played by Robert Prosky) is a suspicious old fart (though to his credit, he has a good reason to be suspicious of Arnie and his car). So I don’t know—maybe certain parts of the story were left out of the movie.

Smith’s Verdict: ***

Reviewed by Tanner Smith

For every life, there lives a desire. For every desire, there is a wish. For every wish, there is a price. That saying alone will let you know what you’re in for when you watch “Something Wicked This Way Comes,” a supernatural thriller that tells a story so compelling you can’t believe the Disney Studios would make a movie as frightening. Maybe they hope the two 12-year-old characters will lighten the mood. But the problem is, terrible events happen to these two kids—spiders surround them, an entire parade searches for them (with kid-sized coffins), and they become involved in a plot to grant people their dreams but take away their lives. This may frighten younger viewers but will probably delight older ones, especially adults because of the darker theme involving one of the kids’ fathers.

The film, based on a novel by Ray Bradbury, begins with a great shot of a train coming towards the camera in the dark. That shot alone tells us that we’re in for something that I don’t think the Disney Studios would want to make again. It lets us know that this is no family film. The film takes place in a small Midwestern town where the two boys—timid, sensitive Will (Vidal Peterson) and the more-outgoing Jim (Shawn Carson)—live. There are many other people in the town, including a cigar store owner who dreams of being rich, a barber who dreams of a thousand gorgeous woman coming to town and being with him, a one-armed, one-legged barman who dreams of playing football, and an old crone who dreams of being beautiful again. Then there’s Will’s father Charles (Jason Robards), who only dreams of being much younger. Will doesn’t particularly like living with an old father. Charles is unsure he can even live with himself.

The mysterious Darks Pandemonium Carnival comes to town and all of these characters (except Charles) arrive. The cigar store owner, the barber, the barman, and the old crone are fortunate enough to meet the Dust Witch (Pam Grier), who knows their dreams and tells their fortunes. It seems that the carnival’s biggest attraction is temptation and these people may be falling into a trap as they are tempted by the Dust Witch to give up something for their dreams come true. They get what they’ve been wishing for but there is a price that must be given—for example, the old crone becomes beautiful but she loses her eyesight. Then, I guess, they become slaves to the force that surrounds the carnival.

Only young Will and Jim realize that something creepy is happening. They run afoul of Mr. Dark (Jonathan Pryce), the tall, mysterious carnival owner who seems to be the ruler of this strange force. He has plenty of tricks up his sleeve and many carnival attractions that are interesting with special effects—including a merry-go-round that can spin backwards through time. He seems to will the ways of the devil, in the way that he can tempt people and then feed on their souls. When Mr. Dark declares that the boys have seen too much, he sends his forces of darkness after them.

It all comes down to the ending in which Charles is finally falling into Mr. Dark’s trap and he must fight it in order to save himself and the boys. Mr. Dark knows Charles’ wish and would make it come true and the temptation is too strong…

“Something Wicked this Way Comes” is a powerful horror film with the right mood of the original novel (although loosely based on the novel) and great performances, especially from Jason Robards and Jonathan Pryce. The young actors are just OK (sometimes, they seem to be a bit too precocious to the point of annoyance). There are some parts where the boys seem older, especially in the scene where they’re surrounded by hundreds of spiders—probably because of post-production reshoots. But it’s really Jason Robards that steals the show. He’s got that amazing voice that makes you want to listen to him and believe in him. Also, I love how the carnival’s being isn’t fully explained—there are some tidbits of explanation but not enough so that there’s exposition. Actually, I’d rather not know. Then there are the heartfelt conversations Charles and Will have in the middle of the night occasionally, which feel very real. That relationship between father and son pays off well.

There are times when it seems like the movie doesn’t know which way to go, especially in the final half, but this is a most unsettling movie with a terrifying atmosphere and a grim feel. It’s unlikely that the Disney Studios would want to make a movie like this again—this is not for younger children. If they see this movie, there’s a good chance they’ll have nightmares for quite a while.

Smith’s Verdict: ***

Reviewed by Tanner Smith

The opening-credit sequence in “Bad Boys” includes pictures of who I suppose are the actors (or specifically, in this case, the characters the actors portray) as little children. They look like harmless, clean-cut, innocent, sweet kids and they probably were for a time. But they must have gone down the wrong path to become what the title of the movie describes them as—“Bad Boys.” What caused them to be like this? It could be neglect, abuse, or maybe (and most chillingly) they just didn’t care about anything anymore. Any one of those would be good reason as to why these boys act like this. In “Bad Boys,” the bad boys aren’t romanticized, but are more like objects for a cautionary tale.

Sean Penn acts convincingly in a role that made him a star as the main focus of this story—a young Chicago thug named Mick O’Brien. The only thing he’s ever cared for is his girlfriend JC (Ally Sheedy). He hates his life at home and performs felonies all over the city. But one night, something goes wrong with a local drug dealer—Paco Mareno (Esai Morales), also a teenager—and results in the death of Moreno’s younger brother. O’Brien is sent to a juvenile reformatory where the worst sort of teenagers do time and act out violently against each other.

The first half of “Bad Boys” is the best part of the whole movie. While O’Brien is in the reformatory, he learns the ropes, finds out who to trust—including his smart-aleck roommate Horowitz (Eric Gurry), and later becomes respected after pummeling a couple of sadistic thugs nicknamed “Viking” (Clancy Brown) and “Tweedy” (Robert Lee Rush). He learns that in this place, only the strong survive. The strengths of the first half come from the first-rate direction by Rick Rosenthal and the performances from the actors—especially Sean Penn, who is excellent and three-dimensional as the bad boy who seeks redemption in the wrong places.

But when Moreno brutally rapes O’Brien’s girlfriend and is put into the same reformatory as O’Brien, the movie starts to become predictable. It’s obvious that the two are going to duel to the death and that’s exactly how the movie is going to end. On top of that, it’s sort of obvious who’s going to win. Was a fighting climax really necessary?

But you can’t let something like that stop you from recommending a movie that is so strong up until that point. “Bad Boys” works for the most part because it shows realistic situations involving troublesome (and troubled) teenagers together in one building. Like I said, only the strong survive here. But these are people whose adult lives are over before they’ve barely begun. It’s a sad case for these kids because very few of them will get redemption—the rest of them will simply ask for more trouble. Take Horowitz, for example. There’s a scene later in the movie when he sets up a radio to explode in Viking’s face. Sure, Viking was a sadist to begin with and probably deserved what he had coming. But now, Horowitz has a troubling punishment all because of his actions. Only he’d stopped to think. That’s what the audience would think about every central character in this movie at this point. Actually, that’s something else to think about too—after the big climax at the end, everyone else is surprised by the outcome. Since I am recommending “Bad Boys,” I guess it’s fair to say that you should watch the final scene and wonder what the characters are thinking.

“Bad Boys” isn’t a great movie, but it comes so close to it. The performances from Sean Penn, Esai Morales, Eric Gurry, Ally Sheedy, Clancy Brown, Robert Lee Rush, and Reni Santoni (he plays a counselor in the reformatory) are very strong. The direction from Rick Rosenthal is excellent. Why did the movie have to end with a fight climax?