Only now does it occur to me... PRETTY WOMAN

Only now does it occur to me... that PRETTY WOMAN is a remake of... CROCODILE DUNDEE!

Okay, so here goes:  wealthy, New York professional (exec Richard Gere in PRETTY WOMAN, reporter Linda Kozlowski in CROCODILE DUNDEE) who works a job they existentially-but-not-yet-consciously dislike thanks to a controlling father (Gere's dad left him the company-buying business in PRETTY WOMAN, Kozlowski's dad owns Newsday in DUNDEE) travels a great distance (L.A. in PRETTY WOMAN, Australia in DUNDEE) to meet a charming-yet-seedy underdog (back alley sex worker Julia Roberts in PRETTY WOMAN, outback madman Paul Hogan in DUNDEE) whose services they hire out for a sum ($3,000 in PRETTY WOMAN, $2,500 in DUNDEE), and after a week of awkward interactions with elitist yuppies, they fall in love, nearly break up due to a misunderstanding, and then get back together, cemented by a grand romantic gesture on the part of the New York professional.


 
 

But wait, there's more:  here are the TOP 3 INCREDIBLY SPECIFIC SIMILARITIES BETWEEN PRETTY WOMAN AND CROCODILE DUNDEE ASIDE FROM THE PLOT, THE CHARACTERS, AND EVERYTHING ELSE I ALREADY DESCRIBED:

#3.  While put up in a fancy hotel by the New York professional, the charming-yet-seedy underdogs both see fit to watch reruns of I LOVE LUCY.

 
 

#2.  Then, the charming-yet-seedy underdog takes a luxurious bubble bath, and sings aloud, only to be discovered by their New York professional who finds the behavior to be extraordinarily endearing.

#1.  Finally, and most incredibly, both films present a pair of friendly streetwalkers who

 (nevermind that it's a bit part in DUNDEE and our main characters in PRETTY WOMAN)

lead us to an alleyway confrontation with low-level pimps


I really want you to take note of the skateboard switchblade.... which might I add is not a knife, because THAT is a knife.

that ends with our hero being rescued by his chaffeur/sidekick.

Reginald VelJohnson in DUNDEE.

 

 R. Darrell Hunter in PRETTY WOMAN.

That's what I call pretty fuckin' specific.  Therefore, I believe my case is closed, and from this point forward, instead of referring to PRETTY WOMAN as "a benchmark for 90's romantic comedy," "the Julie Roberts sex worker movie," or "obligatory date night viewing," we can now refer to it by its proper title:  "the American remake of CROCODILE DUNDEE."

Only now does it occur to me... UNFAITHFUL

Only now does it occur to me...  Balloon Saloon!  Allow me to explain. 
So I've been on a Adrian Lyne rewatch kick and I finally got around to watching UNFAITHFUL, his surprisingly faithful (no joke intended) remake of Claude Chabrol's 1969 film, THE UNFAITHFUL WIFE.  I enjoyed it quite a bit, and the performances– particularly by Diane Lane and Richard Gere (the AMERICAN GIGOLO himself playing the cuckold in a piece of genius casting)– are incredibly in tune with one another, and subtle even in the midst of scenes that nearly ring "soap opera." 
The film begins with Diane Lane exiting a shop and entering a windstorm of Biblical proportions– or at least Bugs Bunny cartoon proportions.  She is hefted to and fro by the winds until she melodramatically meets a dangerously handsome Frenchman whereupon the titular unfaithfulness is set into motion.  Let me back up a moment– about that shop:

 It is a balloon saloon.

 
 


And I guarantee you this is the only time in film you will see Diane Lane battered about by giant balloon dinosaurs and zebras.



Even better, I recognized the balloon saloon from semi-frequent trips to Tribeca.
 
 Imagine it!  A bar where you can get balloons as well!  Alas, my dreams were dashed when I entered the establishment and discovered that it was simply a party center.  I craned my neck to look behind the counter with the helium tanks and the ribbon cutting station, hoping to spy a glimpse of a lonely tap of "Balloon Saloon Lager," but there was no such luck.  I'm still holding out hope that there's a back room speakeasy, accessible by password, which contains a portal to the clown bar from SHAKES THE CLOWN.  We can all dream, can't we?

By the way, J.D. over at Radiator Heaven did a great writeup on this film some time ago, too, if you want to read an informed opinion on something other than the Balloon Saloon.

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