Film Review: THE COTTON CLUB (1984, Francis Ford Coppola)

Stars: 4 of 5.
Running Time: 127 minutes.
Tag-line: "It was the jazz age. It was an era of elegance and violence. The action was gambling. The stakes were life and death."
Notable Cast or Crew: Richard Gere, Gregory Hines, Diane Lane, Bob Hoskins, John P. Ryan, James Remar, Nicolas Cage, Gwen Verdon, Laurence Fishburne, Julian Beck, Tom Waits, Jennifer Grey, Joe Dallesandro, Diane Venora, Woody Strode, James Russo, Giancarlo Esposito, Sofia Coppola, Mario van Peebles! Not to mention Kirk Taylor- The Giggler in DEATH WISH 3! Music by John Barry. Cinematography by Stephen Goldblatt (THE HUNGER, STRIPTEASE). Produced by Robert Evans.
Best one-liner: "Blow that bughouse bastard to kingdom come!"

A lot of the knee-jerk negative reactions to Coppola's 80's output either center on the films being too avant-garde (RUMBLE FISH) or too obsessed with duplicating the celluloid past (ONE FROM THE HEART), but those are two key reasons why his 80's films, however flawed, are some of my favorites. Coppola, along with producer Robert Evans (CHINATOWN, POPEYE)- who was at one point banned from his own set due to heightening tensions between the men- crafts a dreamy, extravagant, maudlin, and occasionally brutal atmosphere that lies somewhere between THE PUBLIC ENEMY, 42ND STREET, and THE GODFATHER.


James Remar demands your attention.

Richard Gere and Diane Lane are our stars, but they are essentially muted: instead, it’s the rogue's gallery of supporting players that lends THE COTTON CLUB power: James Remar as 'Dutch Schultz,' at once exuding charm and childishness- and prone to Pesci-style bursts of violence:

Nic Cage undergoing a journey from stilted milquetoast to raving 'Mad Dog Mick' gangster:

Bob Hoskins as a horse-obsessed (!) impresario who lets you know he's not fucking around, even as he calmly arranges some flowers; Gregory Hines as undisputed king of the tap-dance; Woody Strode as a stoic doorman; Mario van Peebles as a hoofer (the same year as EXTERMINATOR 2!); John P. Ryan as a racist, seething Schultz rival:

Larry Fishburne as a no-nonsense Harlem racketeer who's been pushed around by the whites long enough:

Tom Waits as a nettlesome club employee; Joe Dallesandro as 'Lucky' Luciano, the new Mafioso on the block; and bit parts by everyone from Giancarlo Esposito to Jennifer Grey to avant-garde theater pioneer Julian Beck. It's an exquisite, exhilarating world seen through an amber-colored lens:

A classic 30's montage reimagined.


Shades of Vittorio Storaro?


If only the real Cab Calloway had employed Mario van Peebles (not pictured).


SCHLERP

garish, ostentatious fashion, waterfalls of spurting champagne, elaborate Art Deco setpieces, and swirling, nostalgic montages- at any moment, this heightened tranquility could be perforated by a stroke of repulsive barbarism or a whirlwind of fame, fortune, and your wildest dreams. This is not a gritty, historical document, per sé- it’s a paean to the endless possibilities and intoxicating escapism of the silver screen, and that’s just the way I like it. Four stars.

-Sean Gill

Film Review: RED DAWN (1984, John Milius)

Stars: 5 of 5.
Running Time: 114 minutes.
Notable Cast or Crew: Directed by John Milius (writer of APOCALYPSE NOW, EXTREME PREJUDICE, parts of DIRTY HARRY; director of BIG WEDNESDAY, DILLINGER, CONAN THE BARBARIAN). Starring Patrick Swayze, Charlie Sheen, Lea Thompson, Jennifer Grey, C. Thomas Howell, Harry Dean Stanton, Powers Boothe, Ben Johnson (DILLINGER), Darren Dalton (THE OUTSIDERS), Brad Savage (SALEM'S LOT), Vladek Sheybal (Mr. Boogalow in THE APPLE). Cinematography by Ric Waite (THE LONG RIDERS, COBRA). I must note that about half the cast had just 'graduated' from working with Francis Ford Coppola (on the OUTSIDERS), and, likely as a result, are completely 'on' and connected to the material. Harry Dean Stanton manages to emit more pathos in a few minutes of screen time than most can aspire to in an entire career. Powers Boothe's brief appearance is similarly weighty.
Tag-line: "A full scale military invasion by foreign troops begins. Total surprise. Almost total success . . . ."
Best exchange: "What about Europe?" –"I guess they figured twice in one century was enough. They're sitting this one out."

Outside a rural classroom window, paratroopers gracefully drift down from between the clouds. A schoolteacher, hypnotized by the sight, staggers outside- and the cracks of rifles rudely interrupt the reverie.

RED DAWN has entrancing imagery, worthy of Ford or Malick: children huddled on rocky crags, eating canned beans and evading capture; a world of rape, occupation, fathers in cages. You can choose to see this film through many lenses- a student's survivalist daydream, a cautionary tale for a country gone soft, THE BREAKFAST CLUB meets SALVADOR, or a parallel dimension where the Cold War plays out like Philip K. Dick's THE MAN IN THE HIGH CASTLE.

It's a film that focuses on teenage awkwardness- not at sex, but at war. Like WARGAMES, released the previous year, it features marketable young actors forced to accept our world's destructive horrors. But while WARGAMES' terror was confined to one side of a computer monitor, RED DAWN buries your face in the dust and forces you to watch your neighbors as they're shot in the street like dogs.

It puts you in the shoes of an insurgency and in the beleaguered minds of the occupying force. Jingoists can claim that the film gives legitimacy to Reagan, the Military Industrial Complex, Red-Baiting, or what-have-you, but instead, it only demonstrates the impotence of a System that promises safety but has never experienced true loss.

If a situation such as the one in RED DAWN were to arise, the saviors would not be those who wear flag pins and shit-eating grins, nor the blue blood a-holes who, in the film, roll over like so many Rocky Mountain Pétains. It will be the downtrodden, those who have lost the most, those who have witnessed injustice and nurtured their righteous anger like a precious resource.

Che was a medical student, Georges Bidault (of the Free French) was a history teacher, Lech Walesa worked in a shipyard, Nelson Mandela was a clerk at a law firm, and here, the Wolverines were just some high school students in Anywhere, U.S.A...

Five stars.

-Sean Gill