Bill & Ted Face the Music (2020)

BILL & TED FACE THE MUSIC (2020) ***

What the world needs more than ever before is Bill S. Preston Esquire and Ted “Theodore” Logan, characters played respectively by Alex Winter and Keanu Reeves who live by the credo “Be excellent to each other.”

Yes, we could all use a little more being excellent to each other right about now.

They are back in BILL & TED FACE THE MUSIC, the third entry in a series that began way before Cardi B. (born 1992) and Megan Thee Stallion (born 1995), the Internet boom, widespread cell phones, and COVID … and if a time traveler from 2020 told you in 1989 or 1991 that one day Donald Trump would be your President you’d react about just like 1955 Emmett “Doc” Brown did when Marty McFly told him Ronald Reagan was President in 1985.

I know what some of you might be thinking: Why does the world need another dumb comedy starring two dim-witted characters who have not been seen on a movie screen for 29 years … more than Christopher Nolan’s TENET, the film already considered 2020’s most anticipated theatrical release during a time of much uncertainty for the future of movie theaters and movies in general.

For one, I have never believed the Bill & Ted characters to be dumb and their movies are definitely not dumb. Those who believe that Bill & Ted (and their movies) are dumb are perhaps easily distracted by a vernacular featuring such words as “dude,” “bogus,” “non-heinous,” and “excellent” or their frequent air guitar pyrotechnics.

Also, Bill & Ted were flunking history in EXCELLENT ADVENTURE and surely that did not help their cause, but so what, I mean I wish I had a dollar for every time somebody told me “History’s boring, man, but I do love watching me some History Channel.” I’d have amassed a small fortune.

Bill & Ted, first and foremost, are positive and upbeat without being a preachy drag or becoming simps, and that’s a tricky feat to pull off. They are two of the most likeable characters in film history, a fact made apparent once again by their return in FACE THE MUSIC.

Secondly, I have enjoyed the first two Bill & Ted movies more than I have anything by Christopher Nolan. That’s not saying EXCELLENT ADVENTURE and BOGUS JOURNEY are better than INTERSTELLAR and DUNKIRK, for example, or MEMENTO and THE DARK KNIGHT, for that matter. It’s not much of an understatement, though, when I state I must have watched EXCELLENT ADVENTURE and BOGUS JOURNEY 100 times when they played on cable TV in the early ’90s.

FACE THE MUSIC won me over almost right from the start, when wedding singers Bill & Ted (no longer rock stars) introduce their latest epic “That Which Binds Us Through Time: The Chemical, Physical and Biological Nature of Love; an Exploration of The Meaning of Meaning, Part 1.” Rick Wakeman, eat your heart out!

Just before that number, though, FACE THE MUSIC revisits a running joke from their prior movies. Missy, who’s three years older than Bill & Ted, married Bill’s dad in EXCELLENT ADVENTURE, Ted’s dad in BOGUS JOURNEY (Bill’s dad took it really hard), and now Ted’s younger brother Deacon in FACE THE MUSIC. Just think Bill & Ted each asked her to the prom when they were freshmen and she was a senior. When it is suggested that Ted’s father is now his own son, I sensed a disturbance in the force in my wife seated to my immediate right. I looked over at her and she was in deep thought. I laughed to myself.

FACE THE MUSIC introduces several new characters and they’re mostly winners.

Let’s see, we have Theodora “Thea” Preston (Samara Weaving) and Wilhelmina “Billie” Logan (Brigette Lundy-Paine), Bill & Ted’s daughters. They are music lovers and they share a chemistry and bond just like their fathers. They are every bit as endearing as Bill & Ted.

There’s a scene-stealing robot (Anthony Carrigan) from hundreds of years in the future who’s sent to kill Bill & Ted. We eventually learn his full name.

We also have Jimi Hendrix (DazMann Still), Louis Armstrong (Jeremiah Craft), Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart (Daniel Dorr), and legendary founder of music Ling Lun (Sharon Gee) given a gender switch. Possessing two college degrees in history, I have always loved the Bill & Ted movies for their astonishing historical accuracy.

FACE THE MUSIC incorporates basic plot elements from both EXCELLENT ADVENTURE and BOGUS JOURNEY. Facing a major deadline crunch to finally write the song to save the world, Bill & Ted are back in their H.G. Wells phone booth to visit their future selves and steal the song from themselves. Can they do that? I mean, it’s not really stealing if you “steal” from yourself, right? I laughed at this plot development, because I thought about how John Fogerty got sued by his former record company for ripping himself off.

Bill & Ted visit at least four different future self permutations, highlighted by a tender scene in 2067 with a geriatric Bill & a geriatric Ted. Just like BACK TO THE FUTURE PART 2 and EXCELLENT ADVENTURE, FACE THE MUSIC flat out embraces the silliness of time-travel. Unlike the BACK TO THE FUTURE series, the Bill & Ted movies do not concern themselves with paradoxes or plot loopholes, for that matter. They (and we) are having too much fun.

Thea & Billie take on a similar role as their fathers in EXCELLENT ADVENTURE, as they travel through time to recruit the all-time ultimate band to play their fathers’ song.

Like BOGUS JOURNEY, we descend into Hell, because Bill & Ted need to get their daughters, Ted’s dad, and Hendrix, Armstrong, et cetera, as well as killer bass player Grim Reaper (William Sadler), to round out the band. Nearly 30 years later, this character and the way Sadler plays him remain a hoot. I only wish they would have got to him a little sooner, despite the fact FACE THE MUSIC plugs the killer robot into the role served by the Reaper in BOGUS JOURNEY.

There are numerous other faults in FACE THE MUSIC (including Reeves’ sometimes obvious discomfort playing Ted), but, in the end, they’re smoothed over by the genial spirit of the enterprise. BOGUS JOURNEY remains the best entry in the series, because of its darker sense of humor and inspired production design in places like Heaven and Hell … and it features limited time-travel.

Chris Matheson and Ed Solomon wrote all three Bill & Ted movies and they originated the characters in a Hollywood improv shop in 1983. Matheson (son of the science fiction writer Richard Matheson) and Solomon make “stupid” cameos in each film, waiters in EXCELLENT ADVENTURE, seance members in BOGUS JOURNEY, and demons in FACE THE MUSIC. Matheson and Solomon, Winter and Reeves, and Sadler and Hal Landon Jr. (Ted’s perpetually disapproving father) help FACE THE MUSIC become more a labor-of-love than cynical cash grab.

I left FACE THE MUSIC with a goofy smile on my face and a burning desire to get in the car and blare some music. I rocked out to a playlist that started with Pink Floyd’s “Pigs (Three Different Ones),” Neil Young’s “Like a Hurricane,” and AC/DC’s “Let There Be Rock.” Yes, what a wonderful world!

The Magic of Lassie (1978)

THE MAGIC OF LASSIE (1978) *

Nostalgia became a dominant cultural force in the 1970s, between AMERICAN GRAFFITI, “Happy Days,” ANIMAL HOUSE, ROCKY, STAR WARS, SUPERMAN, and THAT’S ENTERTAINMENT I and II.

Nostalgia also explains THE MAGIC OF LASSIE, in everything from everybody’s favorite cinematic collie to genial old timers James Stewart and Mickey Rooney to the songs by Richard M. and Robert B. Sherman and especially the values implied and directly stated by Lassie, Stewart, Rooney, and their songs.

The picture opens, for crying out loud, with All-American cinematic icon Jimmy Stewart singing “That Hometown Feeling.” I came up with a couple quick reactions: Thankfully, Stewart rarely ever sang during his long entertainment career; They are laying it on awful darn thick real quick in this pic. Of course, paraphrasing Bachman-Turner Overdrive, I hadn’t seen nothin’ yet. Is BTO on the soundtrack? No, but Stewart, Mickey Rooney, Debby Boone, and the Mike Curb Congregation are instead … hot diggity dog!

I just moaned and groaned about the Sherman Bros. songs in the 1972 animated SNOOPY, COME HOME, a picture about 10 or 50 or 100 times better than THE MAGIC OF LASSIE even with them darn songs.

In addition to songs that might cause somebody to wish for temporary hearing loss, THE MAGIC OF LASSIE relies heavily on a couple of my least favorite plot devices: A shady businessman leans on a property owner to sell his property (in this case a vineyard) and (mostly) comic villains ineptly chase our heroes.

In some real cutthroat business practices, Jamison takes Lassie away from kind old Grandpa Clovis Mitchell (Stewart) and his feisty grandchildren Kelly (Stephanie Zimbalist) and Chris (Michael Sharrett) and that horrible man makes it all the way to Colorado Springs with the prized bitch. Lassie runs away, headed for California. Chris runs away, headed for Colorado. Clovis takes off to look for Chris and Lassie. Clovis and Chris should be thankful, eternally grateful that Lassie’s the absolute smartest character in the entire movie, although maybe she wished she wasn’t so smart because her name would not have been in the title. Then again, wasn’t Lassie’s name always in the title of her entertainment packages?

It would take approximately 20 hours by automobile to get from Colorado Springs back to Sonoma (filming location of THE MAGIC OF LASSIE) and walking amounts to a trip lasting 414 hours. There are moments when THE MAGIC OF LASSIE feels like it lasts that long.

They really burden Lassie with some indignities during THE MAGIC OF LASSIE, all within that glorious ‘G’ rating. At least three name changes. A nasty addiction to banjo. Lassie rescues a cat from a burning building. That last one, why that’s just going way, way, way too far. I hope they paid her owners very handsomely.

Believe it or not, centerpiece song “When You’re Loved” (seen and heard in by my count two would-be feel good montages during the 100-minute cinematic endurance contest) received a nomination for Best Original Song at the 51st Academy Awards. I really can believe it, though, that “When You’re Loved” lost to Donna Summer’s “Last Dance” from THANK GOD IT’S FRIDAY.

By the end of THE MAGIC OF LASSIE (or TGIF, for that matter), though, all I was saying was “Thank God It’s Over.”

Charlie Brown, He’s No Clown: Snoopy, Come Home & Race for Your Life, Charlie Brown

CHARLIE BROWN, HE’S NO CLOWN: SNOOPY, COME HOME & RACE FOR YOUR LIFE, CHARLIE BROWN

Charlie Brown and the “Peanuts” gang first appeared as “Li’l Folks” in 1947, debuted as “Peanuts” Oct. 2, 1950, and launched into Sunday papers on Jan. 6, 1952.

Multiple generations came to love Charles M. Schulz’s creation through TV specials, movies, merchandise, and newspapers.

I learned to read at no later than the age of 4 by perusing copies of my grandparents’ Pittsburg Morning Sun and I remember “Peanuts” being at or near the top of the comics page along with “Garfield.” Then, it was (in no particular order) “Blondie,” “Alley Oop,” “Beetle Bailey,” “Doonesbury,” “Family Circus,” and “Calvin and Hobbes.” Sure, I missed a strip or two in this nostalgic reverie.

I later wrote for the Morning Sun (considerably downsized from 2009 through 2014 with sadly more considerable downsizing to come) and I scrapbooked a few strips that particularly tickled my funny bone. You might not believe how much feedback we received about our comics page, but I have found that obituaries, comics, and sports form the backbone of a small town paper. I remember editors grumbling about how readers were still upset years later about what happened with the Sunday comics not being in color and not having their own little section … and I said that I am one of those readers mad about that, as well as the Sun dropping a Monday paper.

Anyway, we have to ask one of the five W’s: What makes “Peanuts” so unique in the first place and even still today?

First and foremost, indelible characters who resonate with readers and viewers. Just as a little exercise, let’s rattle some of them off and I bet that we don’t even need to cheat and consult Google or Wikipedia. Let’s see, we have Schulz’s alter ego Charlie Brown, of course, Linus and his security blanket, Schroeder and his toy piano, Lucy Van Pelt, Peppermint Patty, Marcy, little sister Sally Brown, Snoopy, Woodstock, and Pig-Pen (the Walking Dust Bowl). Over the years, I myself have called a child or two “Pig-Pen.”

Recently, one quarantine afternoon I decided to watch Charlie Brown cinematic adventures SNOOPY, COME HOME (1972) and RACE FOR YOUR LIFE, CHARLIE BROWN (1977) back-to-back.

SNOOPY, COME HOME took me by surprise with its emotional punch and I’d rate it even higher were it not for the presence of so many songs written by Richard M. and Robert B. Sherman that feel like padding to inflate SNOOPY, COME HOME to a running time of 80 minutes.

Snoopy receives a letter from his previous owner Lila, who’s sick in the hospital, and Snoopy and Woodstock set out upon a grand adventure to reach her. Charlie Brown and his friends face the possibility that Snoopy will return to his first owner and that whole plot development provides the emotional sucker punch right to the guts. I’ll admit to getting a little misty-eyed when the gang throws a farewell party for Snoopy.

Meanwhile, throughout his adventure, Snoopy encounters “No Dogs Allowed.” We are talking libraries, beaches, buses, seemingly everywhere our favorite little beagle turns. That’s no way to treat a star the caliber of Snoopy. These people must be somehow unaware of “Peanuts” and they must have never heard the songs “Snoopy vs. The Red Baron,” “The Return of the Red Baron,” and “Snoopy’s Christmas.” What kind of people are these?

After being driven away from the library, Snoopy picks fights against Van Pelt siblings Linus and Lucy, and we are suddenly in Laurel and Hardy territory with big laughs from violent slapstick (though not as violent as say the Three Stooges and still within the ‘G’ rating). Fans have taken Snoopy vs. Lucy and scored MORTAL KOMBAT and ROCKY to it.

Also, during his adventure, Snoopy encounters his worst nightmare, a little girl named Clara who has the unmitigated audacity to call him “Rex.” Snoopy and Woodstock barely make it out alive.

In the end, “No Dogs Allowed” benefits Charlie Brown, Snoopy, etc.

RACE FOR YOUR LIFE, CHARLIE BROWN proved to be a mere meager diversion after SNOOPY, COME HOME.

That’s right, RACE FOR YOUR LIFE is nothing more than a pleasant way to spend 77 minutes with characters that we like.

It does not have the dynamic emotional range of SNOOPY, COME HOME and the river rafting race does not rank with the use of baseball and football in CHARLIE BROWN’S ALL-STARS and numerous gags in strips and TV specials, respectively.

Upon further reflection, the special appeal of the Charlie Brown TV specials and SNOOPY, COME HOME is that adults have the ability to take away more from them than children, without ever feeling that we are being lectured or hearing a sermon. That’s ironic, given the relative absence of adults in “Peanuts.”

SNOOPY, COME HOME ***; RACE FOR YOUR LIFE, CHARLIE BROWN **1/2

Couple Bombs from ’81: The Legend of the Lone Ranger, First Monday in October

COUPLE BOMBS FROM ‘81: THE LEGEND OF THE LONE RANGER, FIRST MONDAY IN OCTOBER

THE LEGEND OF THE LONE RANGER fails miserably at capturing any of the magic of the 1978 blockbuster SUPERMAN, its obvious cinematic inspiration.

Not even one speck.

Like SUPERMAN, LONE RANGER gives us a mythic origin story for an old cultural hero and then unfurls a new grand adventure featuring our updated hero and other updated characters. Sounds like a great time at the movies, but where did LONE RANGER go so absolutely incredibly stupendously wrong?

First stumbling block first, we have screen neophyte Klinton Spilsbury, who more or less remains a screen neophyte after LONE RANGER. That’s because Spilsbury botched his opportunity so badly that producers dubbed him with James Keach in post-production. Spilsbury quickly became a punchline upon the release of the film. For example, Gene Siskel remarked in his review that Spilsbury playing the Lone Ranger would make for a fine trivia question in the 1990s. I am straining to remember if Spilsbury appeared in “Trivial Pursuit” or perhaps on “Jeopardy” as the answer to who played the Lone Ranger in THE LEGEND OF THE LONE RANGER. If producers dub in another actor’s voice, how much of a performance did the dubbed out actor really give? Nevertheless, Spilsbury joined the ranks of infinitely superior actor Harvey Keitel, whose trademark Brooklyn accent did not make the final cut of SATURN 3. Sorry, Mr. Keitel.

Spilsbury definitely proved to be no Christopher Reeve, whose performance as both mild-mannered reporter for a great metropolitan newspaper Clark Kent and Kal-El, a.k.a. Superman, a.k.a. The Man of Steel, contributed a great deal to what made SUPERMAN and SUPERMAN II successful super-budget entertainments that connected with a mass audience on a personal level. Reeve said that he found inspiration from Cary Grant’s performance in BRINGING UP BABY and SUPERMAN and SUPERMAN II indeed at times resemble screwball romantic comedies. (Gene Hackman, Ned Beatty, and gang unfortunately suggest the campy villains from the 1960s Batman TV show, almost upsetting that precarious balance ‘tween humor and seriousness. Terence Stamp, Jack O’Halloran, and Sarah Douglas make better villains in SUPERMAN II.)

LONE RANGER lacks a lighter, humorous touch to counterbalance its mythology attempts. It is so somber that it becomes ponderous and then dreary before it finally springs into action, despite the efforts of Merle Haggard in the Waylon Jennings “Dukes of Hazzard” balladeer role. Obituarists skipped this chapter in Haggard’s career out of respect for the man when he died in 2016.

Finally springs into action is an understatement in the case of LONE RANGER.

LONE RANGER takes approximately 70 minutes to get the title character into costume and to play the William Tell Overture on the soundtrack, and we’re talking about a movie clocked at 98 minutes. William A. Fraker (director), Walter Coblenz (producer), Martin Starger (executive producer), and the writing team of Ivan Goff, Ben Roberts, William Roberts, Michael Kane, and Gerald B. Derloshon discovered a new level of stupidity.

Complete epic failure amounts to the only legend created by THE LEGEND OF THE LONE RANGER.

FIRST MONDAY IN OCTOBER also has its roots in old movies, though it may not be as obvious as LONE RANGER.

FIRST MONDAY wanted to be like one of those movies pairing Spencer Tracy and Katharine Hepburn — WOMAN OF THE YEAR, KEEPER OF THE FLAME, WITHOUT LOVE, SEA OF GRASS, STATE OF THE UNION, ADAM’S RIB, PAT AND MIKE, DESK SET, and GUESS WHO’S COMING TO DINNER.

Those movies succeeded in part because of the chemistry between Tracy and Hepburn and our enjoyment from watching them interact.

FIRST MONDAY fails in large part because Walter Matthau and Jill Clayburgh do not spark that Tracy-Hepburn chemistry and they are both miscast in their roles. FIRST MONDAY should be renamed “The Bickersons Go to the Supreme Court.”

Matthau stars as veteran Associate Justice Dan Snow and Clayburgh draws freshly appointed Associate Justice Ruth Loomis. All we need to know about them boils down to cranky old white ultra-liberal male (Snow) and feisty liberated white ultra-conservative female (Loomis) babble and battle but nonetheless develop affection toward each other.

Matthau gives the standard Matthau performance and it simply does not suit his character. Melvyn Douglas and Henry Fonda played this character on stage and they were both much better fits than Matthau.

Clayburgh made her fame as the quintessential liberated woman in AN UNMARRIED WOMAN and so it is jarring to see her play a rigid conservative. Also, she’s too young for her character. Jean Arthur, Jane Alexander (a few years older than Clayburgh), and Eva Marie Saint played the role on stage.

Paramount originally planned to release FIRST MONDAY in early 1982, but after President Ronald Reagan nominated Sandra Day O’Connor to the Supreme Court on July 7, 1981, Paramount rushed FIRST MONDAY forward to release in late August, one month before the Senate confirmed O’Connor’s appointment.

It is possible that FIRST MONDAY benefited commercially from publicity attendant with O’Connor’s historic appointment. FIRST MONDAY earned nearly $13 million in returns. In the long run, though, so what?

Upon first perusal of British director Ronald Neame’s film credits, one sees two disaster films, THE POSEIDON ADVENTURE and METEOR. After watching FIRST MONDAY, I count three disaster films directed by Neame.

I reviewed two bombs from ‘81 because Hollywood still recycles, rehashes, regurgitates, recapitulates, and remakes old movies, old plays, old TV shows relentlessly.

Let’s Dance! Let’s Sing! Let’s Nostalgia!: That’s Entertainment I, II, III

LET’S DANCE! LET’S SING! LET’S NOSTALGIA!: THAT’S ENTERTAINMENT I, II, III

I dutifully watched THAT’S ENTERTAINMENT, the 2-hour, 15-minute compilation of clips from MGM highlighting their hallowed “Golden Age of Musicals.” MGM, founded on April 17, 1924 by Louis B. Mayer and Marcus Loew, commemorated its 50th anniversary and then released THAT’S ENTERTAINMENT two months later commemorating it even more.

I have two immediate spoilsport thoughts, the first which originally occurred to me on June 22, 2004, watching the American Film Institute unveil the super bland “100 Years, 100 Songs.”

THAT’S ENTERTAINMENT brought it all back with a vengeance.

That night in 2004, I said aloud, “Are they going to put every single fucking song ever sung by Judy Garland on the list?” Ditto for Gene Kelly, Barbra Streisand, Julie Andrews, et cetera, who dominated the AFI list with their 20 or 25 songs seeming more like 80 or 100; Kelly and Garland, who passed away in 1969 at the age of 47, dominate THAT’S ENTERTAINMENT.

We get a double dose of heavy duty Judy in THAT’S ENTERTAINMENT, first through her Mickey (Rooney) and Judy “Hey gang, let’s put on a show” Era montage and then a tribute presented by her daughter Liza Minnelli, not long after CABARET. Garland also sings “You Made Me Love You” over a montage of Clark Gable that allows GONE WITH THE WIND (MGM’s most famous production) to be shoehorned into the song-and-dance ballyhoo.

Second spoilsport thought: Aside from THE WIZARD OF OZ and SINGIN’ IN THE RAIN, most of my favorite musicals are not from MGM. For example, Fred Astaire, who’s featured in THAT’S ENTERTAINMENT, did most of his best work at RKO — including TOP HAT and SWING TIME — in the 1930s paired with Ginger Rogers. Never mind alternative musicals like THE 5,000 FINGERS OF DR. T (Columbia and Stanley Kramer Productions) and ONE FROGGY EVENING and WHAT’S OPERA, DOC?, both famous Warner Bros. animated shorts.

What do I like about THAT’S ENTERTAINMENT?

Well, it’s always great seeing the usual suspects from THE WIZARD OF OZ and SINGIN’ IN THE RAIN no matter how many times I have seen them, especially Donald O’Connor’s showstopper “Make ‘Em Laugh.” Clark Gable singing “Puttin’ on the Ritz” from IDIOT’S DELIGHT. Jimmy Stewart’s jab at Robert “He tries his best” Montgomery. The Esther Williams montage. Somebody once said about Williams, “Dry, she ain’t much. Wet, she’s a star.” Madeline Kahn impersonating Marlene Dietrich in BLAZING SADDLES said, “It’s twue, it’s twue.”

We get more or less the same from PART 2, only we get token appearances from MGM employees Groucho Marx, Laurel and Hardy, Buster Keaton, and W.C. Fields and, of course, musical numbers that did not appear in PART I.

It would have been nice to see a musical number from the Marx Brothers or Laurel and Hardy or Fields, despite the fact they all did their best work somewhere else. I mean, would it have killed PART II director Gene Kelly to have aired Groucho’s “Lydia the Tattooed Lady” from AT THE CIRCUS … for example … instead of, I don’t know, one more variation on the song “That’s Entertainment” offered up by contemporaneous Astaire, contemporaneous Kelly together again and for the last time.

After watching PART II, I began hating Arthur Schwartz’s chestnut “That’s Entertainment” unlike ever before, although honestly I hardly ever gave it much thought until it was the (bludgeoning) recurring theme in a darn movie. They must have trotted it out 50 freaking times.

Eventually, to counterbalance the effects of cornball showbiz schmaltz, though, I started humming “That’s Entertainment” from the Jam. Let’s get all misty-eyed nostalgic over a song that starts “A police car and a screaming siren / A pneumatic drill and ripped up concrete / A baby wailing and stray dog howling / The screech of brakes and lamp light blinking.” I particularly love the second verse, “A smash of glass and the rumble of boots / An electric train and a ripped up phone booth / Paint splattered walls and the cry of a tomcat / Lights going out and a kick in the balls.”

I should just stop bitching and moaning and groaning about PART I and PART II of THAT’S ENTERTAINMENT, perhaps because life is short and also perhaps because I realize that I am not the target audience for these nostalgic entertainments. First and foremost, I was born in 1978 and my generation did not grow up on “classic” American musicals. In fact, a lot of us came to hate musicals in our teenage years, especially of the vintage celebrated endlessly by the THAT’S ENTERTAINMENT series. I have come to appreciate some of them corny old classics somewhat more in middle age, but I still prefer musical numbers from Monty Python, Mel Brooks, and “South Park” and I still grumble like nobody’s business at 21st Century schmaltz like FROZEN, MOANA, and THE GREATEST SHOWMAN, entertainment packages that give me fleas. I don’t even have to watch them to get fleas, because it seems like 90 percent of the people around me have memorized every single darn word of every single darn song and they don’t mind singing ‘em every single darn time they feel like singing in their darn glorious off-key melodramatic voice.

Recently, I conducted some independent research by watching MILLION DOLLAR MERMAID (a.k.a. THE ONE PIECE BATHING SUIT in the U.K.) from 1952 and starring Esther Williams, Victor Mature, and Walter Pidgeon. It was directed by Mervyn LeRoy, produced by Arthur Hornblow Jr., and replayed in at least one THAT’S ENTERTAINMENT. I watched it for Williams and the numbers choreographed by the legendary Busby Berkeley (who might be more fondly remembered today for being parodied in early 80s comedies CADDYSHACK and HISTORY OF THE WORLD). I enjoyed it and I realize that I probably would have enjoyed it for the same reasons at a younger age had I given it even half a chance. Now, that’s progress!

MGM returned to the vaults for a third time for THAT’S ENTERTAINMENT! III in 1994, only 18 years after PART II and 20 after the very first greatest hits-golden cinematic oldies compilation.

Anyway, who’d have ever thought that PART III tops both PART I and PART II and does it by including outtakes and unfinished numbers more than greatest hits and golden oldies.

We have Lena Horne’s “Ain’t It the Truth,” a sultry little number cut from CABIN IN THE SKY because a sexy black woman in a bathtub in 1943 would have spurred on a third American Revolution, yes, even in the middle of World War II.

We have two lip-sync takes on “Two-Faced Woman,” presented side-by-side, outtake Cyd Charisse from THE BAND WAGON and black face Joan Crawford from TORCH SONG (both dubbed by India Adams). Crawford’s scene made me think of Pauline Kael’s review of TROG, “Joan Crawford plays Stella Dallas with an ape instead of a baby girl. Some actors will do anything to be in movies: she probably would have played the ape.”

We have another Esther Williams montage and I must say that I am in favor of Esther Williams montages, especially ones that work in Tom and Jerry. Eat your hearts out, Frank and Gene, your movie (ANCHORS AWEIGH) only had Jerry dancing with Gene! In all honesty, the Esther Williams montages in PART I and PART III pushed me to seek out MILLION DOLLAR MERMAID and I have a feeling that I will be consuming Esther, Tom, and Jerry in DANGEROUS WHEN WET soon.

I also prefer PART III because it has much less of the elitist, self-congratulatory, self-important tone that marred the first two installments, as much as I enjoyed seeing all the “old” entertainers that have not been matched (let alone surpassed) since their heyday. PART III hints at the MGM that treated the cast of FREAKS like “freaks” and it at least delves beyond the surface glitz and glamour to the showbiz ugliness beneath.

That’s entertainment.

THAT’S ENTERTAINMENT PART I ***; PART II ***; PART III ****

Boris, Boris, Boris: The Man They Could Not Hang, The Man with Nine Lives, The Boogie Man Will Get You

BORIS, BORIS, BORIS: THE MAN THEY COULD NOT HANG, THE MAN WITH NINE LIVES, THE BOOGIE MAN WILL GET YOU

I am a big fan of the horror movies of the 1930s and 1940s and I am a big Boris Karloff (1887-1969) fan.

Older horror movies often stand out for two main reasons: atmosphere and wit. Just think DR. JEKYLL AND MR. HYDE and THE BRIDE OF FRANKENSTEIN.

Karloff’s film career began in the silent era and he was already 80 movies deep into his career when he portrayed Frankenstein’s Monster in James Whale’s 1931 FRANKENSTEIN. Karloff’s career exploded and he (along with such figures as Bela Lugosi, Peter Lorre, Basil Rathbone, Lionel Atwill, and Lon Chaney Jr.) became synonymous with a certain vintage of horror thrillers.

Watching his early Universal films like FRANKENSTEIN and THE OLD DARK HOUSE and then his work for Columbia like THE MAN THEY COULD NOT HANG, THE MAN WITH NINE LIVES, and THE BOOGIE MAN WILL GET YOU, it is fascinating to observe Karloff’s evolution from menacing mutes to mad scientists with mad elocution. In fact, during THE BOOGIE MAN WILL GET YOU, I wanted Karloff’s Professor Nathaniel Billings to just the heck shut up for a darn minute. He’s a blabbermouth, and it’s amazing to even think of Karloff playing that way after FRANKENSTEIN and THE OLD DARK HOUSE made the actor famous for playing silent but deadly.

THE MAN THEY COULD NOT HANG contains one of Karloff’s best performances. He plays Dr. Henryk Savaard, a genius who can bring the dead back to life, a feat that might come in handy for a film titled THE MAN THEY COULD NOT HANG. You guessed it, that man would be Dr. Savaard. Anyway, a medical student volunteers for Dr. Savaard and before he can be returned to life, them darn proper authorities interrupt Dr. Savaard. Call it “cadaver reanimatus interruptus.” They bring Dr. Savaard up for murder, convict him, and sentence him to death by hanging. They do in fact hang the good doctor, but his incredibly trustworthy assistant claims the body and brings the doctor back to life to enact his revenge against the judge and the jury responsible for convicting him and sentencing him to his death.

THE MAN THEY COULD NOT HANG basically splits into three movies: mad scientist, courtroom drama, and revenge thriller. It all works extremely well predominantly because of Karloff, whose performance dominates the movie. His courtroom defense scene is a thing of absolute beauty and it just might be his best single scene.

By the way, I absolutely love it when horror movies are not afraid to venture into other genres and become more than a horror movie while simultaneously maintaining the bulk of their body within the genre.

THE MAN WITH NINE LIVES tells a similar tale and Karloff plays a similar character to his role in THE MAN THEY COULD NOT HANG. Both pictures also have the same director (Nick Grinde) and the same writer (Karl Brown), as well as the same cinematographer (Benjamin Kline).

NINE LIVES picks up once we find Karloff’s Dr. Leon Kravaal frozen in an ice chamber deep in a secret passage within his home. Also found are Dr. Kravaal’s accusers … and might I add the plot of THE MAN WITH NINE LIVES gets very loopy even for its genre, despite its ties to real life.

Both THE MAN THEY COULD NOT HANG and THE MAN WITH NINE LIVES are rooted in Dr. Robert E. Cornish and his famous resuscitation experiments. Cornish successfully revived two dogs (Lazarus IV and V) and he wanted to expand his testing on humans. San Quentin inmate Thomas McMonigle, on Death Row, contacted Cornish and offered his body for experimentation, but California denied Cornish and McMonigle their petition because law enforcement officials feared a reanimated McMonigle would have to be freed due to “double jeopardy.” McMonigle was executed in early 1948. Cornish (1903-63) himself appeared in the 1935 film LIFE RETURNS, playing himself.

THE BOOGIE MAN WILL GET YOU plays around with similar material as the other Karloff films he made for Columbia, only more for laughs this fifth time. Yes, Karloff plays yet another mad scientist.

The presence of Karloff and Peter Lorre (1904-64) guarantees at minimum a certain quality and THE BOOGIE MAN WILL GET YOU definitely finds that minimum and nothing less or nothing more. The less said about it the better, and I wish the movie would have followed that policy.

THE MAN THEY COULD NOT HANG ***1/2; THE MAN WITH NINE LIVES ***; THE BOOGIE MAN WILL GET YOU **

The In-Flight Double Feature: Airplane!, Airplane II: The Sequel

AIRPLANE!, AIRPLANE II: THE SEQUEL

AIRPLANE! contributed to the demise of the dominance of the disaster film just as much as beyond lackluster disaster films AVALANCHE, THE SWARM, WHEN TIME RAN OUT, BEYOND THE POSEIDON ADVENTURE, and AIRPORT ‘77 and THE CONCORDE … AIRPORT ‘79. It was like the decisive blow and disaster movies disappeared for many years.

AIRPLANE satirized disaster films in general and the AIRPORT series in particular. The team of Jim Abrahams, David Zucker, and Jerry Zucker ripped their ridiculous plot straight from the 1957 Paramount Pictures film ZERO HOUR starring an exclamatory title and Dana Andrews, Linda Darnell, Sterling Hayden, and Elroy “Crazy Legs” Hirsch. I watched ZERO HOUR (sans exclamation) after learning of the fact that it directly inspired AIRPLANE, and it’s scary how much AIRPLANE lifted from the earlier film. It is also fitting, because Arthur Hailey co-wrote the screenplay for ZERO HOUR and wrote the 1968 novel AIRPORT that became the beginning of the disaster film craze when AIRPORT hit box office gold upon its March 1970 release.

A decade later, millions were obviously clamoring for a sledgehammer attack on disaster films, because AIRPLANE finished behind only THE EMPIRE STRIKES BACK, 9 TO 5, and STIR CRAZY at the American box office in 1980.

Abrahams, Zucker, and Zucker not only had their way with disaster films, but they ripped to shreds both famous individual scenes (SATURDAY NIGHT FEVER, FROM HERE TO ETERNITY, KNUTE ROCKNE ALL-AMERICAN) and standard narrative devices. They especially had some devious fun with flashbacks and voice-over narration courtesy our rather square, good-looking protagonist with a troubled past (Robert Hays’ Ted Striker a perfect match for Dana Andrews’ Ted Stryker in ZERO HOUR. Andrews’ Stryker also brings to mind his troubled character 11 years earlier in THE BEST YEARS OF OUR LIVES).

In the process of satirizing movie genres, AIRPLANE created its own genre that has endured far longer than disaster films and gave birth to new old movie stars like Leslie Nielsen, Lloyd Bridges, Robert Stack, and Peter Graves, whose ability to play it straight at every moment made at least half the joke work.

(Disaster films have periodically made huge comebacks like when INDEPENDENCE DAY, TWISTER, and ARMAGEDDON became super blockbusters late in the apocalypse-minded 20th Century. Definitely not my favorite trend. For the record, I hate both TWISTER and ARMAGEDDON, and I have never managed to make it through INDEPENDENCE DAY in spite or more precisely because of all the hype and euphoric glee that came with it and still comes with it years later.)

Yes, we have seen virtually every movie genre under the sun parodied, quoted, and (less frequently) satirized. We have lived through all the immediate AIRPLANE imitations, the Z-A-Z Boys’ own movies, and everything from the works of the Wayans Brothers to Jason Friedberg and Aaron Seltzer. At some point, let’s say early in the 21st Century, I dreaded the parody movie even more than its various targets.

Most of these later parodies miss the satirical bent that gave AIRPLANE, TOP SECRET, and THE NAKED GUN, as well as Mel Brooks’ YOUNG FRANKENSTEIN, BLAZING SADDLES, HISTORY OF THE WORLD PART 1, and SPACEBALLS, their special verve. The later parodies seem far more willing to merely quote from a blockbuster movie and to just leave it at that. “You’ve seen it before and now, let’s see it again, only done less effectively.” Honestly, what’s the point and more precisely, what’s so funny about that?

For many years, I passed on AIRPLANE II: THE SEQUEL, especially after learning that Zucker, Abrahams, and Zucker were not involved. The boys apparently sent out a press release before the release of the sequel that stated just that.

The crack research team just unearthed this David Zucker gem from 2015: “Jim just said, ‘If your daughter became a prostitute, would you go and watch her work?’” That’s one way to look at THE SEQUEL, one of the cheaper, less essential AIRPLANE imitations out there. The addition of more stars (Raymond Burr, Chuck Connors, William Shatner) makes it even cheaper.

I laughed a couple and smiled a few times during THE SEQUEL, but mostly I watched this comedy that attempts maybe 500 jokes in an indifferent state. The laughs were front-loaded and I found it challenging to even remember them at the back end of the picture. Have you ever had that feeling, where you’re stuck in the middle of a movie thinking about how much you were enjoying it earlier and now you’re dreading it and the remaining seconds and minutes?

There’s almost nothing worse in the movie world than a comedy that fails, since most human life forms love to laugh, even or especially at the dumbest and corniest jokes. We are prepared to laugh during a comedy. We want to laugh. So, when you find very little or absolutely nothing to laugh at over 84 minutes, all this hostility builds up inside you and you get very upset about how you have wasted 84 minutes of precious time which you could have wasted on something else.

Never mind, I should have passed on THE SEQUEL and just watched AIRPLANE one more time.

AIRPLANE! ***1/2; AIRPLANE II: THE SEQUEL **

Sequels Second to None: The Empire Strikes Back, Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom

SEQUELS SECOND TO NONE: THE EMPIRE STRIKES BACK, INDIANA JONES AND THE TEMPLE OF DOOM

Having recently watched THE EMPIRE STRIKES BACK and INDIANA JONES AND THE TEMPLE OF DOOM for the first time in a movie theater, I have asked myself one tough question: Why are they my favorite Star Wars and Indiana Jones movies?

THE EMPIRE STRIKES BACK, the second installment in George Lucas’ space opera series eventually taken over by the fine folks at Disney, has the best direction (Irvin Kershner), best writing (courtesy Leigh Brackett and Lawrence Kasdan), best acting, best environs (the icy planet Hoth, the swampy Dagobah, and Cloud City), and the characters display their greatest emotional range and depth. Yoda, Boba Fett, and Lando are iconic additions, especially Yoda. Only the very first STAR WARS (A NEW HOPE) even approaches EMPIRE and please just forget about the prequels (REVENGE OF THE SITH by far the best of them) and the entries post-Disney takeover. It seems like the majority of STAR WARS fans agree.

Meanwhile, I seem to be in the minority who prefer TEMPLE OF DOOM over RAIDERS OF THE LOST ARK. I understand that it’s dark and disgusting, and that Kate Capshaw’s nightclub singer Willie Scott annoys the hell out of you with all that darn histrionic screaming that she does from the first reel to the very last. I grant all those points. Regardless, I prefer TEMPLE OF DOOM because it’s very dark and very disgusting, and yes, I do believe that it is one of the all-time best gross out movies. We’re talking such pleasantries as monkey brains, eels, snakes, bats, bugs, child slavery, heart removal, and bad, bad, bad men eaten by alligators. To be fair and honest, the Shanghai and Indian characters are grotesque caricatures even more disgusting than any of the creature and culinary discomforts, but then again so are the Nazis and Commies in the other Indiana Jones pictures. Understandably, though, India once banned TEMPLE OF DOOM.

TEMPLE OF DOOM does call to mind such classics as BLACK NARCISSUS, GUNGA DIN, THE STEEL HELMET (Short Round borrowed from Samuel Fuller’s 1951 Korean War picture), and THE GENERAL. Scott’s opening production number (Spielberg has long said that he’d love to do a musical and this scene and the jitterbug sequence in 1941 shows that he could make a very good even great one) clues us in on what’s exactly up the sleeves of director Steven Spielberg, screenwriters Willard Huyck and Gloria Katz, story writer Lucas, and gang. What’s that number called? “Anything Goes,” the Cole Porter standard. TEMPLE OF DOOM works because it is oversized and over-the-top like Spielberg’s earlier comedy 1941. Perhaps it is only fitting that Spielberg apparently likes 1941 and TEMPLE OF DOOM the least among his filmography. Does he recoil from their being so politically incorrect?

As far as Willie Scott goes, she epitomizes the sister or girlfriend or wife perpetually grossed out and disgusted by the shenanigans of all the boys surrounding her. I find that element fun. Yes, I do agree that Karen Allen’s Marion Ravenwood is a better match for Indiana Jones and it’s great they brought her character back for KINGDOM OF THE CRYSTAL SKULL. Scott remains more consistent throughout TEMPLE OF DOOM, though, whereas Marion switches between several modes and moods — just one of the boys, spitfire, damsel-in-distress, and wounded woman chief among them. I enjoy both characters, for different reasons. Capshaw’s performance and her character do not mar TEMPLE OF DOOM for me.

It’s been said numerous times before that Lucas endured a divorce around the time of the making of TEMPLE OF DOOM and that seeped into the movie — in the overall tone but specifically the Willie Scott character and the heart removal. Spielberg, two years after his divorce from actress Amy Irving, married Capshaw and they have been together nearly three decades.

It also must be said TEMPLE OF DOOM was my first Indiana Jones movie, because it was the only VHS tape she kept from a mid-1980s Christmas present from her children. Between that and her later acquisition, THE ADVENTURES OF ROBIN HOOD, I must have thrilled on them 100 times. Maybe nostalgia and sentimentality for old movies, even older movies, grand adventure, brassy dames from the Midwest, and politically incorrect characters and gross out gags animates my overall affection for TEMPLE OF DOOM. (I watched RAIDERS OF THE LOST ARK at the drive-in a couple weeks before TEMPLE OF DOOM. I passed on THE LAST CRUSADE for THE EMPIRE STRIKES BACK.)

As I watched THE EMPIRE STRIKES BACK in the Fort Cinema in the town where I attended high school and the first couple years of college, I periodically momentarily flashed back on how I must have first felt watching the movie some more than 35 years ago in the even smaller Southeast Kansas town Arcadia. I felt that way again, despite having seen EMPIRE 30-40-50 times.

Just one nagging thought occasionally spoiled the mood: We were not seeing the original theatrical version of EMPIRE, rather we had one of them dang blasted Special Editions that genius George Lucas masterminded in the mid-’90s for theatrical and home video release circa 1997 where he touched up some of the old school special effects and made some cringe-worthy insertions that will be mocked until the end of time. Lucas has sadly tinkered with A NEW HOPE, EMPIRE, and RETURN OF THE JEDI even more since then, until I think we fans have to ask him, “Why, George, why?” Some outraged STAR WARS fans have gone as far to proclaim “George Lucas Raped My Childhood.” (I do have both VHS and DVD copies of the original theatrical version of EMPIRE.)

Fortunately, I feel that Lucas has mangled EMPIRE considerably less than both A NEW HOPE and RETURN, which alone points to it being the best entry in the entire series. The uncanny valley effect: “An eerie feeling of unfamiliarity people get while observing or interacting with robots that resemble humans almost but not quite perfectly.” I believe we can add the “Star Wars Special Edition” corollary, as well as separate corollaries for both the prequels and the Disney Star Wars, to the uncanny valley effect. George, you should have just kept your ILM CGI magic in the prequels.

As EMPIRE played out more and more and we got deeper into the plot, though, any thoughts about Lucas, Special Edition, cringe-worthy insertions, etc., faded away and I became swept up in the spectacle more than ever before, because it was up there on the big screen for the first time. I felt wonderment and exhilaration, as well as the broader spectrum of emotions that other STAR WARS movies usually do not reach.

THE EMPIRE STRIKES BACK ****; INDIANA JONES AND THE TEMPLE OF DOOM ***1/2