Rediscovering the Past: Out of Bounds, A Sign of a Better Time

All, this week's Wordy Old Men on Downton Abbey is going to have to be put off 'til next week as Wordy's pricey laptop issues and my sickness and likely death from my head exploding next time I sneeze has gotten in the way. So here is a peace offering. Another oldie but goodie (and this one is slightly touched up). This one originally appeared back on March 29, 2009 and ended up leading to none other than Keith Coogan visiting the comments section with a great snippet about himself and a certain look-alike.  

1986 was a better time in American history. I high point, really. ALF premiered. The Burt Reynolds Heat--you know, the good one that that hack piece of shit Brian De Palma is going to ruin but at least it will have some Statham in it--came out. The two best movies ever, Highlander and Howard the Duck, both were released that year. And of course, Out of Bounds was released. You may be asking yourself, "Wait, what the fuck is Out of Bounds? Am I this far out of the loop?" Yes, you are. Get your shit together.

Basically, if you are looking for the perfect marriage of the Youth in Revolt and Wrong Man genres, then the 1986 Anthony Michael Hall star vehicle Out of Bounds is your fucking movie. Yes, that's right, 1986 was a time in which Anthony Michael Hall was getting star vehicles. Shit was just better then.

AMH plays Daryl Cage--surely a cousin of Nic Cage, especially after considering AMH's Out of Bounds co-star Jenny Wright dated my favorite Cage for two years--an Iowan teen who goes to live with his brother in Los Angeles (which, when I just typed it, I pronounced in my head in the same manner that Sam Elliott does in The Big Lebowski) after his home breaks. When they land at the airport, he and his brother grab the wrong duffel bag (no, there are not eight heads in it).

Of course, it happens to be full of drugs, and this sets Daedalus from "Kindred: The Embraced" on a murderous rampage that seems to the authorities (whose efforts are led by Mayor Royce, Glynn Turman) to be the work of the Daryl. Honestly, Jeff Kober is one creepy looking hombre and this casting decision works. Think a scarier version of Robert Davi or Andrew Divoff, or if you're a Heat fan like me (yes, the aforementioned good one), a young Henry Silva, and you've got your villain.

Perhaps the most awesome aspect of this film--and trust me, there are plenty--is how dead all the dead people look. They don't just look like they were freshly killed. No, it would be a damn shame if you confused that body with a live person. No, these corpses look like zombies mere hours after they've been offed.

Of the myriad other badass aspects of this film, Jerry Levine (the sleazy Keith Coogan) makes an appearance, which is really cool, but pretty much as soon as he appears you know somehow Kober is going to kill Stiles, and no one wants Stiles dead. I know who you're going to ask next, and no, he's not wearing the "What Are You Looking At Dicknose" shirt.

Also, there's a performance in the film by Siouxsie and the Banshees, Dewey Cox's dad/Arlo Givens plays a crooked DEA agent, a Meat Loaf appearance (acting, not performing), and sweet fucking Night Ranger song, "Wild and Innocent Youth". Unfortunately, this is the best video I can find for it:

I know it's not easy to find. From what I can tell, it never got released on DVD, but it is on Amazon Instant Video. Your life will be improved in every way for having seen the world at its apex, with AMH as a star. I know you like this place, but what the fuck are you still doing here? Get watching.

Rediscovering the Past: Blade Runner: The First Cut Isn't The Deepest?

Q:  “What was the tallest mountain before Mount Everest was discovered?”

A:  Mount Everest. 

           

I always loathed that Trivial Pursuit trick question. The assumption that reality exists outside of the current human construct is something I’ve always been interested in exploring, but not when it costs me a piece of plastic pie. It does seem fairly brazen when one considers the magnitude of info that is outdated in every Trivial Pursuit board game.  

After vehemently avoiding Blade Runner for years, I succumbed to a first-viewing upon weighty recommendations from friends. I’m not much of a sci-fi fan. Let me rephrase that: I’m not much of a sci-fi-for-the-sake-of-being-sci-fi fan, but I enjoy art that makes me consider larger philosophical issues, such as the aforementioned questioning of truth. Call me a sap, but I also don’t mind an explosion or two thrown in. Blade Runner forced me to reconsider what constitutes human existence, and I loved it. The problem is the version of Blade Runner I watched was not the same version of Blade Runner that was shown in the theater in 1982. I was taken by a restored, reedited, re-shot, CGI-ed version of Blade Runner, “The Final Cut”, including a starkly different ending than the original. 

Robo Hobo sans shotgun

In many ways, I’m glad I watched “The Final Cut” version of Blade Runner. It highly affected how I perceived the film. A slicked-up, errorless film kept me fixated enough to follow the story line, which is what mattered to me. Immediately after the viewing, I surfed YouTube for clips of the original version and was taken aback by how dastardly dated the clips seemed, the original ending fiercely atrocious, unbefitting of the rest of the film. Researching further, I discovered that “The Final Cut” wasn’t just glossed-up with a new ending, but rather completely reworked, sometimes with Ridley Scott even shooting extra scenes and CGI-ing others to make the film look more modern and cover up any incongruities that existed in the original. 

There is something very odd to me about two people discussing two different films as if they have seen the same film. It bothers me that to discuss Blade Runner with another, I have to first ask what version was witnessed--not to mention there is more than two versions--before discussing a highly intriguing, submersed plot point that changes between versions, polarizing the film even further. I don’t even know if I would have liked Blade Runner if I viewed the original version. I’m rather confident the original ending would have spoiled the rest of the film for me, but I will never know. Dated sci-fi can make for some really bad intake.  Futuristic flying cars become model cars with wires pulling them along, realistic humans met with violent endings become comedic mannequins spewing strawberry jelly, and dreary, metallic versions of Los Angeles become dull, grey movie sets. Suddenly belief isn’t suspended, and the viewer checks out. 

2001: A Space Odyssey is one of my all-time favorites. It works on so many levels. That movie, to my knowledge, has never been doctored, other than maybe brightened by a DVD transfer. If that movie was altered, in any way, it would cause me a gruesome annoyance. It would change how I think about the film, and I saw it for the first time in 1998, complete with pastel spaceship interiors and bizarre psychedelic 60s movie effects. It was far “ahead of its time”, made before the 1969 moon landing, but still managing to capture the proper effects of space physics. The proof is in the sequel; 2010 explained everything, and it was disastrous. 

Google goggles ruin children

I watch a lot of Disney movies with my kids. Disney is always proud to release varnished versions of classic films, $29.99 at a clip. It certainly makes the viewing of these films a more pleasant experience, but in some weird way it does seem to be rewriting history. I imagine a futuristic toddler watching a 3D, holographic version of Snow White through a pair of those newfangled Google glasses and thinking, “Man, they were high-tech back in 1937!” 

I don’t blame Ridley Scott; I would have done the same. From everything I’ve read on the interwebs, Ridley Scott’s original ending was the ending of “The Final Cut”, but studio executives nixed it for the proverbial happy ending. How am I to fault him for perfecting his original vision to tell the story the way he thought it should be told? But where does it end? What if Tarantino cut his own racially explicative scene out of Pulp Fiction? What if Michael never caps Fredo? What if Andy never escapes Shawshank? What if Mona Lisa was given a boob job and some ruby lipstick? Far-fetched indeed, but what if art museums found a way present the art in 3D form without retouching the paintings? Would we be so willing to walk around the Louvre with 3D goggles intact?

            

Rating redone art poses problems. Without revision, 2001: A Space Odyssey can be compared to other films of the time. With those comparisons, value can be assessed. I think this is why Waterworld was met with such widespread condemnation: simply because it cost so much to make in comparison to other, more acclaimed films of that time. “The most expensive movie ever made” cost $175 million, and that was appalling to moviegoers in 1995. I don’t think Waterworld was that bad, at least now that every summer is filled with its share of over-budgeted critical bombs. 

If people truly enjoy 99 cent cheeseburgers at the exorbitant rate they are consumed at, and that enjoyment isn’t solely monetarily based (as recent studies show that middle-class America eats more fast-food than lower-class America), then that food is tasty, right? Do we judge how good Elvis was based on the records he sold? Certainly, some do. Are art and economics independent of each other? When we criticize Waterworld or place Blade Runner on a pedestal, what are we truly considering? After all, 50 dollar bottles of wine only taste better than 5 dollar bottles of wine if the taster knows which bottle costs more. It can be said that all history is revisionist, and, yes, I knew that I was watching a different version of Blade Runner. I just didn’t know how different.

Q: What science-fiction thriller, released in 2007, features Rutger Hauer as a genetically engineered bio-robot searching for its maker?

A: Blade Runner

Rediscovering the Past: James Cagney: Not So Much Yankee, A Lot Doodle Dandy

Another oldie but goodie, this one originally appeared in November 13 of 2008 and marks another instance in which I irrationally dwell on some actor of yesteryear, focusing an unhealthy amount of energy on someone who hasn't been relevant in roughly fifty years. 

Not buying what he's selling.

I don't know if I could count the times I've engaged in a conversation with my friend Chad about how difficult it is to buy guys like Edward G. Robinson or James Cagney as tough guys.

Chad hates Edward G. Robinson. Loathes everything he stands for. Thinks EGR is a mama's boy. Begrudgingly allows for him to have been all right in Double Indemnity but won't go further than that. I pretty much agree with those sentiments. If you need to hate the man, here's a clip:

What the hell is with him here?

Where Chad hates every fiber of what was Edward G. Robinson's being, I fucking despise James Cagney. Now, I don't hate him as much as I hate Ray Milland. That's simply not possible, but I would like to re-animate James Cagney's corpse just so I could kick his zombie ass. In every movie he was in, he just oozes overacting dandy trying to come across as a tough guy. Moreover, look at the guy.

How did anyone think that little POS was tough?

It is possible that I should have prefaced this entry into the annals of retarded blog entries by stating that I have quite a few old school Hollywood figures that I hold an irrational hatred for--Rod Taylor, Tippi Hedren, the aforementioned Ray Milland--but the point still remains that these two "tough guys" are dandies through and through. The thing I don't get is how the Greatest Generation bought these little douchebags as tough. I honestly think anyone who came up during the Great Depression could kick just about anyone's ass nowadays. They were tougher times, and it was probably a lot more common in regular society to have to get into a scrape here and there. Hell, most of these guys would have been ashamed if they couldn't go off to war. None of us pussies want to go off to war. But these tough old motherfuckers--these tough Robert Mitchum-like dudes--bought James Cagney as a tough guy.

What the fuck?

Rediscovering the Past: The Inspiration of Kenneth Lonergan

Here's another 'classic' post that largely fell on deaf ears. This was originally published way back in 2008, on October 7th to be exact. I'd imagine many or most of you weren't coming around to these here parts back then, as this was still a raw work in progress at that point. The seemingly doomed Margaret finally came out this past fall with Anna Paquin drawing raves and a small segment of the critic community vociferously singing its praises. 

I was just struck with the certain notion that Kenneth Lonergan (By the way, nine goddamn years, Kenny boy? Took you long enough...) was definitely driven by the powerful 80's sitcom with the following theme song of epic proportions:

Now, some might say (No, not you Liam. Pipe the fuck down.) that there's no way that the brainchild of Michael Jacobs (who in addition to being the Executive Producer of this fine program and "Boy Meets World", penned the afore-embedded theme song and perhaps more importantly the theme song to "Charles in Charge" which surely needs no embedding) and Danielle Alexandra (who I had never heard of but apparently wrote G.I. Jane--clearly the next step in the career of the co-creator of "My Two Dads") could possibly have been the inspiration for the great 2000 Scorcese-produced Lonergan debut below.

To this I say, "Screw you, you short-sighted chimp."

Think for just a moment. Pretend Loggins doppelganger Greg Evigan isn't wearing a trenchcoat. And he isn't bearded. And he's really of Italian heritage. And he mumbles a ton. In fact, pretend you can't understand a word he says, but he's from Wisconsin, so he's intrinsically likable. Now embue that man with all of the carefree irresponsibility and sexual looseness of Evigan's Joey Harris. Eliminate the moralizing as we're talking about an indie film, not a network sitcom, and you've got Terry Prescott.

(L to R) Rock-bottom Reiser, that girl from Going Places, and poor man's Loggins

Now, take Paul Reiser (no, I won't denigrate the work of a certain musician by linking him here, Mark--fuck it, yes I will, check that caption), imagine him having sex with Matthew Broderick, and you've got Laura Linney's Sammy Prescott.

To take it a step further, add a sense of hope for a legitimate future in acting to Staci Keanan (Seriously, what the fuck happened to her?) and you've got Rory Culkin as Rudy.

Florence Stanley's Judge Margaret Wilbur is swung away from the secular and turned into a priest, but to maintain indie-cred he's hapless where she's omniscient, and Lonergan casts himself in the role.

Dick Butkus is a big dude and is therefore the rest of the supporting cast in the film.

There you go. And to further my theory, Lonergan's movie that is to come out next year is called Margaret, no doubt an ode to the late Florence Stanley.

All right...

I know you wanted it, so here you go. Powells not Pembrokes.

Rediscovering the Past: A Shocking Revelation about Enemy Mine

[This is another oldie but goodie from February 10th of 2010. I am working on an entry or two and should be keeping up with Prick Tunes entries along the way. Hopefully this is a new one for some of you.]

One of the primary goals of this series is to plumb the depths of our pop culture past, examining relics of our not-so-distant past with a fresh set of eyes.

Today's errand involves looking deeper at the sci-fi non-classic Enemy Mine.


Now, when I undertook the chore of watching this film I had no idea what to expect. I was certainly taken aback to find that I would be watching the precursor to Brokeback Mountain starring Dennis Quaid and Louis Gossett, Jr., in the roles that would be unofficially reprised by Jake Gyllenhaal and Heath Ledger.

You see, Enemy Mine is about two men who are marooned on a distant, virtually uninhabited planet who take shelter from the planets harsh elements together, and eventually take comfort in each other's company. When I say "two men" what I really mean is a human and a Draconian, but as first two acts blatantly elucidate (and the third act absolutely bludgeons the point home), these two species are really just different races.

Where Wolfgang Petersen makes his bold decision, however, is when he decides to make Enemy Mine an interracial Brokeback Mountain. Even though he is in a scaly reptilian get-up for the whole movie, Petersen chose to cast a black man to play Jeriba. This is no coincidence. The racial tension between Dennis Quaid's character, Willis Davidge, who essentially starts the film as the clean-cut poster boy for the Aryan ideal, and Jeriba is so thick it could not be flushed down a toilet. As the two get to know each other while trying their best to simply survive in this crazy, messed up world, they begin to form a bond. They co-habitate. They teach each other new things. Lou Gossett, Jr., has a baby. Despite their initial racially-motivated hatred of one another, they overcame their differences and found comfort in one another's company, and what they have to show for it is an alien butt baby.

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Now, where Wolfgang Petersen loses me is when he decides to actively try to piss off all Christian groups. You see, as the film progresses, Willis Davidge evolves. He starts off the film as a hateful Nazi. As he begins to learn about the other race, he grows as a man, and eventually he becomes Jesus and somehow impregnates his male lover. Seriously, Wolfgang? Homosexual immaculate conception? Hey, I don't have a problem with it, but if this movie came out today, there would be protesters outside of your movie all over the Bible belt.

Whatever. It's your movie, Wolfgang. Make it your own.

Moving on...

So Jeriba, Davidge's lover, has their child but dies in childbirth. Davidge raises their son as his "uncle" and teaches him about both of their cultures. Then their son, Zammis, runs off, attacks a WASP, and ends up getting enslaved by the human settlers (read: Europeans) while Davidge is shot and presumed dead by Zammis's captor. Of course, Davidge is resurrected (he emerges from a body bag, not a cave) and goes to save Zammis after removing the rock from the metaphorical cave door with a fighter's weapons. When he lands, he saves the enslaved Draconians and rescues his "nephew" from his oppressors.

So what we have here is a snapshot of Wolfgang Petersen's world, one in which Jesus had an interracial love child with his male lover on Brokeback Mountain--and Jesus freed the slaves.

And just so you know I'm not crazy:

Rediscovering the Past: A Little Bit of Chris Elliott

I think I speak for the world when I say that Cabin Boy may have been the most important film of our times. If you loved that film, here's a little bit of Chris Elliott goodness that you may have missed.

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Rediscovering the Past: A Lucas Revelation and Other Thoughts

The first time I saw Lucas was sometime around 1987, in my uncle's basement in Liberty, MO. This would have made me about eight years old. Clearly the finer points of symbolism were beyond the grasp of my prepubescent mind.

Sleeping standing up, Haim was more highly evolved than the rest of us

So it is now, at 3:00 in the morning as Sunday rolls into Martin Luther King, Jr. Day, that it finally occurs to me that the 17-year gestation period of the locust that plays a central role in the film is symbolic of Lucas's own pending transformation from adolescence into manhood--well as manly as Corey Haim was destined to get at least.

How this never occurred to me before is beyond me, since I've seen this film at least five times in the past ten years or so, but it didn't. In retrospect, this is pretty hilarious on many levels--the most obvious being the fact that someone (presumably David Seltzer) put this much thought into what has ultimately been reframed as a Corey Haim star vehicle in revisionist film history.

I was in the middle of a Royalscentricity blog entry, so I don't have the time or energy to piece the rest of these thoughts into a cohesive entry, but as I half-rewatch Lucas, I'll post some random thoughts in the space that follows...

"Garrett M. Brown"

• Seeing Jeremy Piven in 1985 it is funny to compare his hairline as a 20-year-old to his hairline now and see that it has miraculously un-receded. If ever there were a case of receding hairline predestination, it was Jeremy Piven.
• When did the depravity start for Charlie Sheen? Corey Haim has stated that he was drinking beer on the set of Lucas as a then 14-year-old. Was Chas Estevez somehow responsible for setting dear Corey down the path of self-destruction by way of drug and alcohol abuse? 
• Despite the fact that I'm only 38 minutes in, I am already eagerly awaiting the slow-clap. Is this the high point of cinema in the 1980s? Perhaps. 
• Was Piven as big a dick then as he is perceived to be now? I want to give him the benefit of the doubt given his longtime friendship with John Cusack (or maybe it's Cusack that I want to excuse), but the fact remains that Piven's character is a bit of a dick in his limited screentime in Lucas.
• Lucas happens to be the screen debut of Jeremy Piven and Winona Ryder. Are the fates acting against the two of them, insisting that only one of their careers can be doing well at a time?
• Was squeezing citrus fruit between your forearm and biceps a lunchtime craze in the 80s?
• I'm pretty sure that I looked as old as Corey Haim did in 1985 by the time I was nine (complete with ill-fitting glasses).
• Gary Cole appearance as Assistant Coach. Voice apparently overdubbed. Weird.
• Haim stepping in the shower. There is no fucking way that he is 14.
• Every time Mr. Kaiser (Garrett M. Brown) is on screen, I cannot help but wonder where John C. Reilly got his time machine. The unfortunate corollary that arises here is when does John C. Reilly disappear from our time? Clearly he travels back to 1985 at some point in the very near future, takes on the name of one Garrett M. Brown, plies his trade as an actor, and eventually becomes Kick-Ass's dad.
• Courtney Thorne-Smith can really stare daggers. When Maggie (Kerri Green) is getting water on the sidelines, it is shocking that she doesn't actually go up in flames. Clearly this was on her reel when the casting was getting underway for Melrose Place.
• The pass to Lucas at the end of the game (at the 8:10 mark in the clip below) is totally an illegal forward pass. Lucas is thrown the ball initially as the quarterback is trying to evade a sack. While Lucas never passes the line of scrimmage before throwing the ball back to the quarterback, he did catch a forward pass to start things off. Then when he is thrown the ball downfield, he never bobbles the ball, never completing the catch, making it an incomplete pass. All of the action that happens in the ensuing melee should be immaterial as there is no fumble to recover. Lucas is hospitalized on a play in which there was an illegal forward pass, an unsportsmanlike conduct (he removed his helmet on the field), and an incomplete pass that is then mistreated as a catch and a fumble.

• Kid with a Krokus shirt.
• Believe it or not, I cannot find a clip of the famous slow clap by itself. Regardless, it was totally worth watching until the end. Stirring.

Rediscovering the Past: Kim Richards is All the Rage

If there is one fact that has been proven over the past year and a half, it is that America still loves Kim Richards.

You see, every time a Kim Richards movie is on TV, the traffic at this site skyrockets. Meatballs II comes on... 70 hits over an hour and a half.

Now granted the bounce rate of those hits is pretty high, but the fact remains that America's love for Kim Richards is alive and well.

I've let it be known here before, but Kim Richards was one of my first childhood crushes (Alyssa Milano being the other). Something about the Witch Mountain movies caught a hold of my young imagination, and I am definitely inclined to think that much of that was due to the beautiful Kim Richards. Yes, she was probably around 12 when they came out, but I couldn't have been any older than eight or nine at the time, so I'd hardly call this disturbing. Also, even at the age of 12, she had a sexy, smoky element to her voice (happy this time, KRD?). This no doubt affected my raging nine-year-old hormones.

Well, last Tuesday, I had over 300 hits and over 400 page views, something that is highly unusual. Sometimes I'll strike a chord with a Royals blog entry and get 150 hits, but really, who gives a damn about the Royals.

You know what people do give a damn about?

This picture.
And really, who can blame them?

Well, after years shying away from the limelight--electing to raise her children instead of pursuing acting--Kim Richards is back.

Starting October 14th, Kim Richards will be on Bravo's "Real Housewives of Beverly Hills," a show that I would not have given a damn about were it not for the involvement of Kim Richards, who is still a stone-cold fox.

Now I would like to say one thing to LA Times blogger, Yvonne Villarreal. I, for one, will only happen to see this show because of Kim Richards, and I don't give a damn that she's Paris Hilton's aunt. Your snide dismissal of her credits (and shocking omission of Tuff Turf--what the fuck is wrong with you @villarealy?) has put you on my shit list. I didn't know who you were before, but I know who you are now.

All right, maybe I'm overreacting, but I just get so angry when people try to marginalize Kim Richards.

I'll defend your honor, Kim, and there are a slew of fans who Google Image search you that would probably do the same.

I can't believe I'm actually going to watch a show on Bravo...

Rediscovering the Past: A Musing or Two on Starman

First things first: This is going to be briefer than I'd like. I want to have something to write about, but I've been insanely busy with work(s). In addition to the late Spring onslaught I've been enduring at the docks, I also went out to DC for a couple of days (this was the second time I'd been there in as many months) to go to "Jeopardy!" auditions. I showed well and am in the contestant pool for this upcoming season. Hopefully I get the call this time around...

This all has meant that I've been unable to consume media at the ridiculous pace that I generally do. I've been slogging through a Martin Dugard book about Grant, Lee, Sherman, and Davis in the Mexican War for about a month and a half, largely because I've been reading a reference-y book on the Presidents on the can as pseudo-preparation for the aforementioned tryout.

I've also not been able to get out to the theater since Iron Man 2, so there's not much to say on that front.

I also anticipate writing up a little something on "Justified" as the season comes to an end, but nothing else on the TV front has tickled my fancy enough to write about it lately (as is also evident over at Munch My Benson).

Then there's the whole UFC obsession that has taken over the lives of Chad, Peter, and myself, but I'll not be getting into that just yet.

As for Starman, I sat down and watched it for the first time last night and was pleased as punch that I did. From John Carpenter's* decision to go for the gusto with the awesome Jack Nitzsche score to Karen Allen actually sort of acting penultimate real film role**, the entire experience was an awesome one.

*The cool John Carpenter, not the creepy Bob Crane sidekick who filmed him on his escapades and then likely killed him as portrayed by Willem Dafoe in Auto Focus. And yes, I do feel the need to make the clarification between the two.

**Yes, I'm stating that the only movie she did after this in which she was worth a damn was Scrooged. Do you disagree? That's what I thought. I don't want to see any feigning of indignation in the comments section here card-holding members of the Karen Allen Fan Club.

What was really awesome, though, was Jeff Bridges stunted speech. I think if I could choose one way to talk from any movie, it would be the manner of speaking utilized by Jeff Bridges in his Oscar-nominated turn as Starman.

Watching Bridges own the role brings to mind the fact that he must have been livid when he was shooting K-Pax and Spacey was just sitting there blowing what Bridges had done better.

Just look at the disdain in Bridges eyes as he looks at the man who has won an Oscar chomping into a banana like a smug dick while Bridges mantel lay bare. The irritation is real (and justified). Really, does anyone think that F. Murray Abraham deserved an Academy Award for playing himself in a wig and a ruffled shirt? Come on.

Regardless, Bridges is the shit here, and Carpenter's sci-fi romance hits the mark at almost every turn, including this one...

Rediscovering the Past: Saying Goodbye to Boner

As you likely well know, Andrew Koenig was found dead in a Vancouver park.

What better way to say goodbye than to show a goodbye episode of sorts?




Or, if you'd like to watch this episode in higher quality elsewhere, here is the link to The WB's website, who apparently stream "Growing Pains" episodes.

I can speak with confidence when I say that anyone in my peer group was at least fleetingly familiar with the work of Andrew Koenig, TV's Boner Stabbone. Most, more than fleeting. He also played Batman in a really good short that came out after the Batman franchise looked to be done. That can be streamed here. But back to "Growing Pains," he was the sidekick of the cool lead male teen, both of which were sitcom staples in the 80s. In Boner's case, he was the dork (the other option, of course, being the nerd) which was probably a curse of sorts. As was the case with nearly every actor who was cast in one of these roles that largely amounted to a caricature, Andrew Koenig didn't do much television or film acting after the role.

Andrew Koenig was reported to have been depressed and was found after presumably committing suicide. Everyone feels for his family and friends.

At least we still have Semper Fidelis...

Rediscovering the Past: Lord of Illusions and the Undeniable Star Power of Scott Bakula

It's weird how random conversations can will movies to be on television. Yesterday, while in the throes of a Mark Harmon*-driven chat, the subject matter inevitably turned to Scott Bakula. Over the course of the Bakula turn, the stranger to me in the group mentioned In the Mouth of Madness**.

*During the course of this conversation, Mark Harmon was obviously called "Summer School", and the fact that he was People's Sexiest Man Alive (in 1986, although I thought it was 1989 or 1990, for some odd reason) was thrown into the mix.

**The fucking scene in the car in the fog where they keep passing the same old man on the bicycle totally trips me out. Past that, I remember very little of this film other than the fact that Ryan and I rented it with Gordo and Else back in high school. I seem to remember Ryan and I being the only ones even remotely interested by the one-hour mark or so.

I didn't really get the connection at the time, and then I realized that he really meant Lord of Illusions, but it was far too late to correct him, which is a shame because the whole conversation was kind of revolving around him hitting on this girl, which I've got no problem with in theory, but in reality there is always this incredibly awkward energy that then looms over the flow of conversation. It would have been nice to bust that up, if only a little.

Anyway, this conversation in which the words 'lord', 'of', and 'illusions' were never uttered in succession but the allusion to the film was there in spirit and in my mind clearly set the gears in motion over at HBO because I'm sitting here watching it right now.

Let me tell you, I had forgotten just what this film really was since we rented it and watched it one afternoon right before Dazed and Confused (odd twin-bill, I know) at Stein's house.

Just off the top of my head, I'm hard-pressed to think of many movies that combine the worlds of film noir, horror, and desert acid movies, but Clive Barker elected to do it here. It was a bold move, I guess, but not one that ever completely works.

What does work is R-rated Scott Bakula as a private investigator. Why no one decided that Dr. Sam Beckett needed more work in the hard-boiled world of noir (and real, stylized film noir, not this amalgamation) is beyond my comprehension. Let me say right now that these short-sighted producers/casting directors can go screw.

What I can say is that watching this makes me want to watch Necessary Roughness again, but I guess that could be said on just about any day of the week...

Now, for your Bakula treat, something I totally forgot existed. Thank you, Al Gore, for inventing this goddamn internet.

And to bring it full circle:

Now if only I could find video of Bakula in his starring role in the TV series adaptation of Gung Ho. I guess this will have to do...

Rediscovering the Past: Once Upon a Time In Kenny Rogers Career

Just a taste, because you need it.


Not that this whole clip isn't gold, but the best part starts at the 3:00 mark and goes on into the next clip.



I would elaborate more on the experience that Six Pack is, but that should be one that you have yourself.

I will say that seeing Six Pack spawned one of the most embarrassingly (or awesomely, depending on your frame of mind) raunchy extended conversations that I've ever had in my life. I will go no further than to say that one of Mr. Rogers' past transgressions was the subject of much disturbing conversation.

Regardless, you just got Six Packed. You're welcome.

Rediscovering the Past: Hiding Out Re-revisited

The most faithful of readers may recall that I have actually written about this film before. Oddly, I have had fleeting interactions with both Jon Cryer and Keith Coogan, who some of you may know is most definitely the most famous person to stumble across this little corner of the internet (his comment is pretty awesome).

Hiding Out was on again this morning, and I got to thinking more about the issue of statutory rape within the film. Now, maybe either of the aforementioned stars of the film would like to shed light on the issue, but this subject has clearly resonated with me.

If you need a refresher and did not want to go back to my previous Hiding Out entry, Cryer's character, Andrew Morenski goes on the run because he thinks the feds cannot protect him. He assumes the fake identity of Maxwell Houser and goes to school with his high school cousin, played by my favorite Keith (sorry, Keith David), Keith Coogan. While in high school, he falls for a girl, as every hero has to have a love interest.

The issue here is that Annabeth Gish's character is supposed to be a high school student. As such, the almost 30-year-old Andrew Morenski is pining over jail-bait.

My main question here is, were the filmmakers secretly making a propaganda piece advocating statutory rape, or were they making a case for statutory rape being created in an environment in which the two involved were socially equals (i.e. both high school students, at least within the narrative construct of the film)?

Discuss.

Rediscovering the Past: Was I Retarded as a Child?

I know, I know. "What the fuck are you doing up right now?" I kind of fell asleep while writing my column, finished it, and then got around to posting a Royals entry and knew that I could bust out another about something that happened on Saturday night.

First, I will post this link that you should follow to watch the "Opening Gambit" at the very least. I say this if only to give you a true frame of reference for what I'm about to talk about.

I'll wait.

Go ahead.

All right, seen enough?

Now, as a child, I liked "MacGyver". I wouldn't say I wanted to model my life after him or anything, but I'm sure I thought the show was pretty damn cool.

Boy, was I fucking wrong in retrospect. To watch the show, you would think it was produced for Christian television if judging it by its production value. This episode in particular (Trumbo's World) features preposterous POV-through-binoculars-and-camera of carnivorous ants devouring everything in sight in the Amazon basin. The "close-ups" that the binocs and camera afford the characters in the show are patently ridiculous. To get an appreciation for exactly how dumb this is you will have to watch further into that episode, which is actually worth it.

In addition to how ridiculous the production of this show is (oh, there's also a horrible and seemingly unnecessary rear-projection sequence on a small motorboat that suddenly changes to being on a stream), there's the acting. This episode is bogged down by "Babylon 5" alum Peter Jurasik and whoever the actor that plays Trumbo is. And that's obviously already including Richard Dean Anderson, who at this point in his career decided he was going to channel John Wayne with brain damage.



I watched this whole episode Saturday night, as Chad, Mark, and I explored the Roku player. We also watched a special live episode of "Gimme a Break" (which no doubt inspired "Roc Live") and one of the Chaz episodes of "Charles in Charge" in a fit of group masochism that has seen no equal in the history of man. Trust me, this is not something you want to do. And while both of those shows were expectantly awful, it was the shock that set in upon finishing "MacGyver" that stays with me the most.

The most shocking thing about having seen this show is that this was the sixth episode, and it is unfathomable that they continued airing this series after this abysmal episode. Keep in mind, this was airing at the same time as "Moonlighting". Hell, "The Rockford Files" was off the air, what, six years earlier, and in its first season it looked better than that. There should have been no excuses for a show resorting to such archaic production value. The whole time, I kept waiting for a star wipe.

Rediscovering the Past: Edward Mahoney

Pre-stroke:


Post-stroke:

If you haven't done so, go ahead and create a Pandora Eddie Money station. It gets you the optimal cross-section of all late 70s and early 80s bands that you could possibly want, while not getting too broad, like a Journey or Phil Collins station would.

I do think it's weird that he was a cop in the late 60s having followed in his father's footsteps, and no more than 15 years later, he was in a coma after snorting phenatol thinking it was coke.

Rediscovering the Past: The Kim Richards Edition

Apparently the world is conspiring to force Kim Richards back into my life.

Now Kim Richards' name may not be instantly recognizable to many, but I think just about any straight male or bi-curious/lesbian female who hit the magical age of ten years old between the years 1975 and 1990 probably had a crush on her, even if her name does not ring a bell.

For those who may need a reminder, Kim Richards was Tia in the original Witch Mountain series and starred in a slew of Disney movies in the mid-to-late-70s and branched out into other work like the original The Assault on Precinct 13 and The Car. She also landed the role of Ruthie Adler in the "Diff'rent Strokes" spin-off "Hello, Larry".

While you might think that it was the new Witch Mountain movie that has stirred up memories of a childhood crush, it actually is almost entirely coincidental. About a week and a half ago, Chad and I went to The Legend of Billie Jean (which I've actually been meaning to post about) at the Alamo downtown and before the movie they showed a bunch of Youth in Revolt trailers one of which was for Tuff Turf, which was more or less an 80s re-imagining of Rebel Without a Cause starring James Spader. Since seeing the trailer, we have been itching to see the movie. Well, last night Meatballs II was on and this was the first film in which Kim Richards looks like this:


Well, I saw Tuff Turf tonight with Chad, Mark, and Jack Attack, and it was pretty damn awesome. When I first saw the trailer a little while back, Spader's love interest looked very familiar, but the film was very of its day, and Richards was made up in such a way that I did not immediately recognize her. She spends the entire film being pretty damn hot. And the film--aside from its somewhat unconventional usage of performed music in the film (songs performed in their entirety--and that is plural songs)--is honestly pretty badass. While Spader certainly seems to have suffered from Campbell Scott Syndrome* as a young man, he is about 1,000 times cooler than Campbell Scott could ever have dreamed of being and quite successfully pulls off the semi-aloof rebel character--complete with leather jacket and a sidekick (although I don't think anyone would ever say Robert Downey, Jr. was lame, while the same can not be said about Sal Mineo).

*As I think I have stated in this space before while talking about Singles, I think, Campbell Scott seems to have been born as a 35-year-old man. I think it is safe to say that James Spader sort of suffers the same affliction. While he certainly was age-appropriate to play the part of a high schooler (under 25), he still didn't look it.

But back to Kim Richards, she looked really great in the film, which led me to begin wondering what ever happened to her? Well, Tuff Turf was essentially the last movie she did before having kids. She did one more movie five years later, Escape, but after that left acting for the next decade-plus. Well, while I was trying to find out what happened to her I discovered perhaps the weirdest part of her story. Her sister? Paris Hilton's mother.

I can't say I have ever liked listening to Paris Hilton talk because she is, quite frankly, a bit on the vapid side. That being said, I have always found her kind of oddly attractive. I mean, she repulses me with her actions and demeanor, but there was always something about her that kind of appealed to me. Finding out that on some level, there is a bit of Kim Richards in her DNA makes me feel a whole lot better about that.

Now to get back to it, here is a clip from Tuff Turf:

The credits only list Jonathan Elias as a songwriter on the soundtrack listing, so I have to hope that Spader was singing there. Here is the real reason that you would want to watch this movie, though.

The weirdest thing about both of those clips is that the music is kind of out of sync, tonally, with the true nature of the film, which is actually quite a bit darker than the Jack Mack and the Heart Attack in the trailer, too.

Rediscovering the Past: The Pre-Beard Doppelganger of Kenny Loggins

Rediscovering the Past: Lynn Aloysius Belvedere!!!

If I had my way, every time someone walked into my workplace they'd be bearing the kind of news my friend Mark dropped on me today...

Having read my post about the imminent release of "Parker Lewis Can't Lose" on DVD--June 30th Motherfuckers!!!--Mark came in with the little lady and dropped this nugget on my unsuspecting ass: Shout! Factory is doing its damnedest to solidify its place in my heart as the best business in the world, adding "Mr. Belvedere" to its docket of releases. The glory that is Christopher Hewett as the titular British housekeeper that comes to live with Pittsburgh sports columnists George Owens family as Marsha Owens ventures back to law school will make its way to my DVD shelf St. Patrick's Day. Seasons One and Two will be released together that day, and I, for one, cannot wait to see Mr. Belvedere outwit Wesley at every turn while Bob Uecker embodies everything that we all wanted in fathers circa 1985 (no offense, Dad--I still love you).

This is something that I have been waiting for with almost as much energy as I have "PLCL". There were days back when I worked with one Miss Jordana Mollick* back at the coffee shop in Minneapolis where we would wax nostalgic about "Mr. Belvedere" and try to recall the lyrics from the Leon Redbone sung, Gary Portnoy co-written theme song "According to Our New Arrivals" without the degree of success we demanded of ourselves.

*I initially thought better of including your last name, Jordana, but then I thought better of it when I thought of the joy that could enter your life knowing that googling your name will connect you eternally with "Mr. Belvedere"--an honor to be sure.

And, even though, I have done this before, I am going to embed the video of the intro because I will look for any reason to get that theme song out there.

Now, as I rewatch the intro, it occurs to me that Brice Beckham looks like what I imagine my Phillies fan friend, Donald probably looked like in 1985, so ya got that goin' for ya, Donnie.

Regardless, from this point forward, I do not want anyone walking into where I'm working without a piece of news like this. Keep this in mind, ladies and gents.

Now, if only that bizarre episode of "Ned & Stacey" where Ned employs Christopher Hewett to play Mr. Belvedere in an ad campaign only to come to discover that Hewett believes himself to be Lynn Aloysius Belvedere and lives on the abandoned set of the show were included in this first DVD release...

Rediscovering the Past: The Greatest DVD News In the History of the Letters D, V, and D

I may have mentioned before that I have an undying love for the television series "Parker Lewis Can't Lose". I say 'may have', but you can read that as meaning 'have definitely' because I have gone so far as to post the entire pilot episode in embedded video form. That was one of but a few "Parker Lewis" posts. This is the best of all.

Apparently the folks over at Shout! Factory have secured the rights for DVD release, and we can be expecting the release of the first season later this year. The article is here. I was informed via email, as I am of course on a mailing list for any such news.

You have no idea how fucking pumped I am for this. And Shout! were the crew responsible for the "Freaks and Geeks" DVD sets, which are quite possibly the most special feature laden, all-encompassing, overflowing-with-love DVD release in the history of the medium. Thank God PLCL will not be getting the haphazard "Get A Life" three volume greatest hits treatment. Thank God for Shout! Factory.

Rediscovering the Past: Two Types of People

So if I have one burgeoning social theory, begging to be fleshed out even more entirely than I will endeavor to undertake in this entry, it is that there are two types of people in this world. No, not cat people and dog people. Not Type A and B personalities. Not even men and women--hermaphrodites, anyone?

No, the entire world can be broken up into two kinds of people:

• those who prefer Back to the Future Part II for the complexities that arise from screwing with the space-time continuum and the chilling vision of Dark 1985 as brought to life by Robert Zemeckis
  
• those who prefer Back to the Future Part III for the rollick of our beloved characters Marty McFly and Doc Brown in the Old West and the beauty that is Seamus McFly

I can understand both sides of this argument that shall forever plague the world, causing insufferable strife between the warring factions eternally grappling with one another over this divisive issue. I can certainly see the appeal of the in-depth exploration into the temporal complexities inherent in jumping around from 1985 to 2015 to 1985 to 1955, and the suspense derived from watching Marty tiptoe around the progress made through acts of space-time manipulation already performed. I can understand the horror that one feels when the see the effect of what can happen to the world if one corrupt soul uses the gift of time travel to his own selfish benefit.

I get that.

I am not in that camp.

At the end of the day, I want the inception of the frisbee. The action on horseback. The Wild West shootouts. The ingenuity of the modern man in a frontier setting. The overcoming of a crippling inability to rise above goading and peer pressure. The modification of the steam engine into a time machine. The riding of the hoverboard off into safety as the train is hurtling towards the canyon. The juxtaposition of ZZ Top in 1885. The actual fear that a Tannen is able to instill in the relative lawlessness of 1885 California.

These things grab a hold of my imagination and tickle my fancy.

The coup de grace, though, is the stellar turn of one Michael J. Fox as Seamus McFly. It is his revelatory portrayal of Marty's great-great grandfather, the even-keeled Irish Catholic immigrant who is not susceptible to the same flaws that often get his four-times-removed descendent into trouble and got Seamus' brother, Martin killed. It is the love Seamus is effortlessly able to summon for the stranger from a strange land that overwhelms me. Seamus has a concern for his fellow man and a willingness to open up his home to those in need that gives hope to me for a better future, even if it does all occur in the past.

So, yes, I am a Seamus McFly Man. What do you plan to do about it, naysayer?