Showing posts with label Jeffrey DeMunn. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Jeffrey DeMunn. Show all posts

Thursday, April 22, 2010

Film Review: THE HITCHER (1986, Robert Harmon)

Stars: 4 of 5.
Running Time: 97 minutes.
Tag-line: "Out on the desert highway, the rule of thumb has a different meaning..."
Notable Cast or Crew: Written by Eric Red (NEAR DARK, BLUE STEEL, BODY PARTS). Starring Rutger Hauer, C. Thomas Howell, Jennifer Jason Leigh, Jeffrey DeMunn (THE BLOB '88, THE MIST). Cinematography by John Seale (WITNESS, THE FIRM, THE TALENTED MR. RIPLEY).
Best one-liner: "How do you like 'Shitsville'?" Well, it's way better when Rutger Hauer says it.

Well, it's Earth Day. And it only seems right- although it certainly was unplanned- for it to coincide with Rutger Hauer week, with Hauer being an outspoken advocate of animal rights and conservationism, amongst other noble aims. [In fact, as of this moment, Rutger's putting forth an effort to secure the release of unduly imprisoned New Zealander whale rights champion Captain Pete Bethune, which you should check out.] Regardless, on this Earth Day, I shall discuss a film where Rutger Hauer's mere presence leads to the wholesale destruction of half the cars and helicopters in the Southwest (maybe he wanted to reduce greenhouse gas emissions?).

THE HITCHER flirts with genius... then it blows up some helicopters. It's as if John Woo remade THE WRONG MAN. But, in a way, that's why I like it. It's a paranoid western, a Hitchcockian road movie, a highway slasher, and a balls-out shoot 'em up. On the one hand, we have slick visuals, a spine-chilling villain, desolate locales, an encroaching aura of suspense; on the other, we've got confusing plot twists, unfathomable character motivations, the stilted offscreen death of a main character, and more car wrecks than USED CARS and THE BLUES BROTHERS put together. It's abundantly clear that Robert Harmon and Eric Red did not set out to make an art film- more likely they wanted the equivalent of an action-packed, feature length TWILIGHT ZONE episode, a pursuit at which they succeed. However, there's one variable that I don't think they could have predicted- the extent to which Rutger Hauer would transform the film into his own personal, claustrophobic, homoerotic hell ride.

Rutger Hauer is in your car. Rutger Hauer is in your face.
In fact, he's not just in your face, he's IN YOUR EYE.

He's relentless. As the enigmatic John "Ryder," he roams and rules the highways with windswept, chilly puissance. He's basically omniscient, invulnerable, and possesses the ability to POP UP RIGHT WHEN YOU LEAST EXPECT IT. Maybe he's Satan? God? It doesn't matter. You believe every second of it. He's Roy Batty, for godssakes.

The poor sap who he's tormenting is played by C. Thomas 'Ponyboy' Howell. (Or, as some like to call him, C. Thomas 'Soul Man' Howell). Howell begins as a fresh-faced goofus who thinks it's a good idea to pick up Rutger Hauer on a dark and stormy night. He slowly transforms (by necessity) into a mucky, dust-covered, single-minded barbarian (I was reminded of Caleb's similar metamorphosis in Red's vampire western, NEAR DARK). Along the way, he meets up with disaffected waitress Jennifer Jason Leigh (fresh off of FLESH + BLOOD with Rutger)

and good-hearted but often confused cop, played by Jeffrey DeMunn. They're both excellent, and insert some much-needed pathos in a film dominated by merciless man versus man action.

This movie is ridiculous. There's more mind-boggling "cat and mouse" reversals and confrontations in the first 20 minutes than in the entirety of your average thriller. I mean, you're about to see a film of this kind and you can pretty much predict that a gas station will erupt into an inferno of blazing detonations and wondrous Hollywood FX. That's a given. Most pictures would save it for the final act. THE HITCHER lays it down at about the 23 minute mark- because that's just the sort of movie that it is.

We're even entreated to the haunting image of a car streaking away from said explosion, its hood swathed in flames. The cinematography, by John Seale, is astounding. Desert storms, deep blue skies, darkness and illumination; flaring headlamps, polarized landscapes, and warm roadside diners.



But the meat and potatoes of this film are clearly the whirling dances of death between Hauer and Howell. Emphasis on 'dances.' "There's something strange going on between the two of you," says the good-spirited Captain DeMunn. Wow, you said it. Now, apparently, C. Thomas became extremely afraid of Rutger Hauer for real during the shooting of this film. It's not hard to see why. Hauer transforms every interaction between himself and Howell into a theoretical hotbed of sadism, savagery, and primal sexual desires. Every time Hauer is near, you can tell that he's intently thinking about kissing C. Thomas, then maybe about snapping his neck afterward.

Hauer is so deeply entrenched in the character, that he knows which buttons to press to make C. Thomas actually uncomfortable. C. Thomas knows that a hateful yet passionate kiss is not is the script, but when somebody as absolutely committed as Rutger is around, da script don't mean shit.



Don't worry, C. Thomas, he was just leaning in to cryptically put pennies on your eyes... this time.

Later, C. Thomas and Rutger inexplicably hold hands.

C. Thomas diffuses the tension by spitting in Rutger's face. Rutger equalizes the power dynamic by LOVING IT.


Then he plays with the spit for a few unnerving moments- lets it roll down his fingers. Cradles it. Like a baby. Conserves it like a precious resource (for Earth Day?).

Now let's see here- who won the Oscar that year? Best Actor was Paul Newman for THE COLOR OF MONEY. I guess I'm not gonna begrudge Paul Newman anything. Best supporting actor was Michael Caine for HANNAH AND HER SISTERS. Also nominated was Dennis Hopper for HOOSIERS, because they didn't have the balls to nominate him for BLUE VELVET. Well, here's what should have happened. Cancel all the other awards, and stick Dennis Hopper and Rutger Hauer up on the stage. Let them try and creep each other out for an hour or two, or a year- however long it takes. Whoever wins gets all the awards. Who's with me?

Anyway, this movie also sets the precedent of Rutger Hauer popping out from behind cutesy things that belong to children– a teddy bear is slowly lowered to reveal....RUTGER HAUER.

More on this in a later review...

In closing... wow. Things you should take away from this: Hauer is a genius. Howell is a goofus. Actually, I just like the word 'goofus.' But always, always, always check your french fries. Four stars.

-Sean Gill

Side note: From what I hear, J.D. over at Radiator Heaven has got a big 'ole appreciation of THE HITCHER in the works, so stay tuned...

EDIT: J.D.'s article can be found here.

Monday, June 8, 2009

Film Review: THE BLOB (1988, Chuck Russell)

Stars: 4 of 5.
Running Time: 95 minutes.
Notable Cast or Crew: Director Chuck Russell (ERASER, NIGHTMARE ON ELM STREET 3: DREAM WARRIORS), Candy Clark, Kevin Dillon, Jeffrey DeMunn (THE GREEN MILE, THE MIST, BURN AFTER READING), Bill Moseley, Jack Nance (ERASERHEAD, BLUE VELVET, TWIN PEAKS), Art LaFleur (FIELD OF DREAMS, COBRA), Donovan Leitch, Shawnee Smith (SAW, THE ISLAND), shot by Mark Irwin (VIDEODROME, SCANNERS, Wes Craven's NEW NIGHTMARE), and cast by Johanna Ray (casting director for David Lynch (1986-Present), Quentin Tarantino (1996-Present), COOL AS ICE, SHOWGIRLS, and GHOULIES),.
Tag-line: "Scream now, while there's still room to breathe."
Best one-liner: "I feel like the one-legged man in an ass kicking contest."

"The Blob's not scary. It's just red Jell-o." SCCHLERRRRP! Yeah, asscheek, you just got absorbed by the Blob. The Blob IS scary. How many times do I have to say this? It has no sense of reason. I guess you can say that about a lot of horror monsters, but the Blob is completely inscrutable. You can't even say with certainty that hunger is its motivation. Does it think? Is it even alive? Well, you don't really have time to tackle these questions when the Blob is coming. Or the Glob. Yeah, the original 50's title was THE GLOB THAT GIRDLED THE GLOBE, which is completely awesome.

Anyway, the 80's saw some of the most successful horror/sci-fi remakes ever, many of the films even eclipsing the originals (THE FLY, THE THING, CAT PEOPLE). Now, the original BLOB can't be touched, but this comes damn close. A lot of that's due to Frank Darabont's writing. He's a man (THE MIST, THE SHAWSHANK REDEMPTION, screenplay for NIGHTMARE ON ELM STREET 3) who knows how to do creature features right.

The set-up's perfect- we get loads of well-done, condensed character development AND the Blob in the first 20 minutes; we have complete unpredictability in terms of Blob victims; there's gruesome, unnerving, Cronenbergian FX; and there are some definite emotional stakes. We got the zany Candy Clark, a cameo by Jack "Eraserhead" Nance, the underrated Jeffrey DeMunn, singer Donavan's son as an all-American jock, a bit part by Bill Moseley, and a totally be-mulleted Kevin Dillon.

And it all takes place in a 50's meets 80's Anytown, USA that has a surprisingly evocative flavor to it that's very TWILIGHT ZONE-y. It's got a very successful mildly Lovecraftian feel to it as well. I was really shocked at how well-done this film is. And the ending, which I shan't reveal here, is brilliantly set up, and I dare say gleefully nihilistic. Four stars.

-Sean Gill