Showing posts with label Sally Field. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Sally Field. Show all posts

Wednesday, May 12, 2010

Film Review: THE END (1978, Burt Reynolds)

Stars: 2 of 5.
Running Time: 100 minutes.
Tag-line: "Are there laughs before death?" Apparently not.
Notable Cast or Crew: Burt Reynolds, Dom DeLuise, Sally Field, Norman Fell (THE STONE KILLER, THE KILLERS), Joanne Woodward (THE THREE FACES OF EVE, THE FUGITIVE KIND), Myrna Loy (THE BEST YEARS OF OUR LIVES, THE THIN MAN), Carl Reiner (THE JERK, SUMMER SCHOOL), Strother Martin (COOL HAND LUKE, THE WILD BUNCH), Kristy McNichol (WHITE DOG, THE PIRATE MOVIE).
Best one-liner: "That man's nuts! Grab 'em!"

Oh, no. Tell me this isn't happening. I love Burt. The giggle, the goosing, the impetuous smarm. I love Dom even more. The chubby cheeks, the playful demeanor (never has someone been quite so mischievous without an ounce of malice), and the unfettered optimism, even in the wake of getting slapped by Burt, nonstop. Put 'em together, and you've got gold.
Well....I hate to break America's collective heart, but not always. Let me lay it all out for you. It's a tale of terminal illness and suicide. Burt directs, and Burt stars. The director seems to be playing it straight. The star is playin' it strictly for laffs. Allow me to reiterate: THEY ARE THE SAME PERSON.
Why the disparate agendas? Burt's got the beard, and Dom's clean-shaven. That's gotta throw some people off, but forget about that for a second. The problems are fivefold:

#1. The pacing. The pacing is HORRIBLE. It is excruciating. Simple scenes that don't advance the plot, don't develop character, and don't contain laffs should not be lasting in excess of ten minutes.

#2. Where is Dom? Dom doesn't even appear until around the half-way mark. Even after that, he's only really a supporting character.
DOM IS GOLD. YOU DO NOT WASTE GOLD. I thought you knew this, Burt! Dom gives it his all. If Dom were onscreen the whole time, this might have been a fine film.

#3. Stop playing with your chest hair, Burt. I'm, trying to eat a snack. I like it better when you're –schwink– goosing Loni.

#4. Groan-inducing jokes. Burt insinuates that his last meal might be Sally Field's–
MEOWWWW!, her cat interjects. Simply rib-tickling. On the Laff-O-Meter, I'm reminded of the near necrophilia from STROKER ACE. Then there's the slew of racial gags– from Burt pulling out the old derogatory chestnut, "beaner," to the stock 'Asian-style' music that accompanies the whacky gardener, the movie's full of wince-worthy would-be knee-slappers. And now, since I've used the phrase "wince-worthy would-be knee-slappers," I am as big a douche as Burt was for making this movie.
Burt Reynolds in a ladies' housecoat, drinkin' a Coors is not in and of itself, funny. Sure, it could LEAD to something funny, but that would require some form of additional effort.

#5. Wasting legends. Aside from Dom, there's stars like Myrna Loy, Joanne Woodward, and Norman Fell.
(Now Norman Fell's not a legend, per sé, but acting alongside the likes of Lee Marvin, Clu Gulager, and Charles Bronson has certainly made him more endearing.)
Myrna Loy: "I acted with William Powell, I drank martinis with William Powell. William Powell was a friend of mine. And you, Burt, are no William Powell."

Give these actors something to do, dammit! Kristy McNichol, on the other hand, acquits herself with twee charm.
In fact, her brief scene with daddy Burt is probably one of the best parts of the film.

Whew. How to end such a film? Well, Burt could always end with a weak FROM HERE TO ETERNITY parody, some sped-up footage inspired by Benny Hill, and call it a day.....
...Annnnnd he does. Two stars.


-Sean Gill



Friday, January 23, 2009

Film Review: HOOPER (1978, Hal Needham)

Stars: 3.9 of 5.
Running Time: 99 minutes.
Notable Cast or Crew: Burt Reynolds, Sally Field, Brian Keith, Adam West, Terry Bradshaw, Robert Klein, John Marley, a shit-ton of stuntmen.
Tag-lines: "It just ain't summer without Burt!" AND "Ain't nobody can fly a car like Hooper!"
Best one-liner(s): "Everyone get drunk and be somebody!" AND "Somebody call him a cab." "I don't need a cab...I AM a cab."

This film doesn't quite deserve four stars, but there's something about the giddy, incorrigible, self-reflexive final freeze frame that leaves me no other choice. Burt Reynolds IS Sonny Hooper, the greatest stuntman alive, doubling on a film for Adam West, who plays himself. Burt's girlfriend, as in real life at the time, is Sally Field, and her dad, Brian Keith (REFLECTIONS IN A GOLDEN EYE), is a stunt legend and Hooper's mentor. Jan-Michael Vincent (AIRWOLF) is the brash up-and-comer. A few large stunt setpieces, a bar fight, and a smidgen of human drama are woven across this tapestry of characters, and that's about all there is to this movie, besides it being the most comprehensive and in-joke-filled tribute to stunt people ever. But there's some great stuff in there. Burt & Co. taunt local cops, get in barfights with Terry Bradshaw and then become friends, go drunk driving, do inappropriate things to women's asses while in Friar Tuck costumes (and this a full five years before the famous goosing on the poster of STROKER ACE), taunt animal rights advocates, etc. Yep, it's whacky, alright.

Hijinks to ensue in: 5... 4... 3... 2...

But the thing that truly pushes this thing over the edge is Burt's laugh. It's usually pretty girlish, and that's always been one of his trademarks. I don't know if he just feels more comfortable here since Sally Field's around or something, but here there is ZERO restraint. The laugh goes up another ten notches, to the point he could conceivably be auditioning to do the voice of Elmo. So you gotta enjoy the unrestrained Reynolds glee, which ultimately manifests itself with a look straight into the camera, a silly grin, and the 'okay' sign, captured for all-time as the closing freeze frame.

Bravo, Hooper. Though the film probably would have been a bigger hit if they'd called it SMOKEY AND THE HOOPER. This is just the goofy primer, however, cause now you gotta rent SHARKY'S MACHINE and travel into the tortured inner depths of Burt's soul...

-Sean Gill