Only now does it occur to me... A STRANGER AMONG US (1992)

Only now does it occur to me... I'm pretty sure that once upon a time in the late '80s, somebody was watching a Harrison Ford double-feature: WITNESS and WORKING GIRL. They were left with the sensation that they wanted to remake WITNESS, but they also wanted to see Melanie Griffith continue doing her WORKING GIRL schtick. So they pitched the following: How 'bout WITNESS, except instead of Harrison Ford we have Melanie Griffith, and instead of the Amish we have the Brooklyn Hasidim?

Furthermore, it's directed by Sidney Lumet, who I have to imagine was a hired gun to give it "gritty NYC flavor." The problem is, instead of the next SERPICO or PRINCE OF THE CITY or DOG DAY AFTERNOON we have something a little closer to THE WIZ.

 

Well, if Club ZAP! is in a movie, it can't be all bad

So we have Melanie Griffith as a hard-boiled hot-doggin' cop who is totally subjected to the classic "next time you act like such a goddamned maverick I'm gonna need your badge and gun on my desk!" speech

only she's making no effort whatsoever to appear tough n' gritty, opting for the "Marilyn Monroe-via-BODY DOUBLE" baby voice throughout. Which is frankly kinda great.

Anyway, there have been some murders in the Flatbush Hasidic Jewish neighborhood, so she's sent in to go undercover (!) by a screenplay that A. thinks it's definitely going to win some Oscars, B. is dedicated to the idea that Melanie will learn a lot from the Hasidim and the Hasidim will learn a lot from Melanie, and C. really wants to shoehorn a bodice-ripping romance with a rabbi in here somewhere. This is obviously a recipe for success, if by success you mean alienating the religious community you are attempting to depict as well as causing a variety of audience members to snort their beverages through their noses. Allow me to demonstrate what I mean:

They're a regular Rosalind Russell and Cary Grant, aren't they. And that's right, her name is "Detective Eden"... like the garden from that book

She shore is a sassy shiksa

First, note Mia Sara (FERRIS BUELLER'S DAY OFF, LEGEND, TIMECOP) playing Hasid. Second, note that Melanie Griffith's character, when informed that someone "died in the camps," does not know what the camps are.

HEY WHAT DO YOU MEAN "YOU PEOPLE"

This is just poetry, a Song of Songs if you will

If FLEABAG brought us "Hot Priest Summer," truly A STRANGER AMONG US brings us "Lukewarm Rabbi Summer." The crux of it is that she doesn't even want to date him, it's just kind of an experiment to prove a point about repression or something

Along the way, in attempts to summon some New York-realness, we have young James Gandolfini as a low-level mobster:

 

John Pankow (TO LIVE AND DIE IN L.A.) as a likably dorky detective:

some full-FIDDLER dance scenes:

use of the brilliant catchphrase "Okey-dokey":

and an amazing scene where for some reason Melanie Griffith deputizes the rabbi:

This whole thing is so absurd that you end up being slightly more puzzled than offended. Also, they totally tried to sell it like it was from the same genre as BASIC INSTINCT:

 

a desperate early '90s decision that tells me they knew they had a real winner on their hands. 

Only now does it occur to me... FAMILY BUSINESS

Boyhood is often populated by absurdist hypotheticals, often involving fantastical one-on-one duels.  For whatever reason, idle chatter of this variety makes waiting in line in the cafeteria or loitering out front before the bell rings in the morning that much more tolerable.  Who would win in a fight between Robocop and Boba Fett?  The Nazi Mechanic from RAIDERS OF THE LOST ARK or the Monstrous Thugee from INDIANA JONES AND THE TEMPLE OF DOOM?  Superman or Godzilla?  One might assume that these hypotheticals would end in the post-adolescent era, but here I am, decades later, writing about Charles Bronson vs. Clint Eastwood, and Arnold Schwarzenegger vs. Sylvester Stallone, and Michael Ironside vs. Bruce Glover, and all of the other important stuff that really matters. 

Anyway, never until this evening did I imagine, even in my wildest dreams, that I would one day see the end result of a cinematic duel betwixt ubiquitous Puerto Rican character actor Luis Guzman and 'the Graduate' himself, Dustin Hoffman.  Go ahead and place your schoolyard bets!






 
YAHHH


 
OOOFUS

 
CEEEERUNCH

I s'pose we'll have to award this round to The Hoffman.  And, hopefully, by now associating Dustin Hoffman with one on one brawling on the internet, it will trickle into someone's subconscious and prompt a rental of KRAMER VS. KRAMER under the mistaken pretense that it's a martial arts tournament epic.

Oh, and about the movie itself– let's just say that if you're seeking out a late 80s, early 90s Sidney Lumet New York crime flick, you'd be better off sticking with Q&A.

Only now does it occur to me... 12 ANGRY MEN!

Only now does it occur to me... exactly how goddamned unsanitary nondisposable bathroom towels used to be! Seriously, though. I love 12 ANGRY MEN, but only upon the latest viewing did I comprehend the full ramifications of the following:

Jack Warden combs his greasy head, then proceeds to wipe the comb on the communal towel:



Henry Fonda dives in right after him like Pete Rose, smothering his face in the exact greasy spot,


then nonchalantly drying his hands as if it's the most natural thing in the world.


And maybe it is. Maybe the mollycoddlin' 21st Century has made a pantywaist germaphobe out of me, and for that I am truly ashamed.

But really, though. Communal bathroom towel? Communal sweat, grease, fluid, urine, excrement, what-have-you? I tell you, those men had reason to be angry.

All joking aside– if you haven't already, see this movie, go do it now. It may very well possess some of the finest blocking ever arranged in a constricted space and some of the more volatile (and sweaty) performances in filmdom. Pass the paper towels!

Junta Juleil's Top 100: #95-#91

95. ONLY ANGELS HAVE WINGS (1938, Howard Hawks)

I'm not sure anyone has ever matched the skill with which Hawks integrated exposition, character development, and sheer entertainment. He makes it look so damned easy, too. He often sets up a situation where men are doing a serious job, a dangerous job, and then events simply unfold. As they unfold, we learn everything we need to know about the characters because we've been there with them, in the trenches, seeing how far they can be pushed, and how hard they can push back. You don't feel as if you're watching something contrived by sheltered Hollywood-types, because it's not– he's incorporating details, the way his men act under pressure, the way he directs a picture, even, from his real-life experiences as an aviator, a race-car driver, an army man, and a factory worker. This is the sort of film to which I give my highest recommendation; I don't even think I have to tell you about the plot. Just another one of his immaculately constructed tales of men's men and ladies who pull no punches. Did I mention that Hawks' middle name was WINCHESTER?

94. MAKE WAY FOR TOMORROW (1937, Leo McCarey)

"It would make a stone cry."

–Orson Welles.

Sweet God in heaven, I'm not sure that any movie has ever jerked as many tears from its audiences, per capita, as MAKE WAY FOR TOMORROW. Leo McCarey, who won a Best Director Oscar the same year for the well-made, but far lesser film THE AWFUL TRUTH, said in his acceptance speech: "Thanks, but you gave it to me for the wrong picture." It'd be a difficult movie for audiences to 'enjoy' in any time or place because it asks difficult questions about the relationship between parents and their children; how we care for them, how they cared for us, and what fate is to be earned for all "as the long day wanes." Victor Moore and Beulah Bondi play the elderly couple at hand, delivering a couple of the most purely, emotionally reactive performances in the history of the medium. The clock ticks, the children wait, and the old couple relive youthful memories, a moment of respite before moving on. Dr. Samuel Johnson said it better than I ever could: "We never do anything consciously for the last time without sadness of heart..." And so I join the ranks of viewers who find themselves grasping for the telephone as the final reel ends, calling up loved ones, contemplating these fleeting moments, and hoping for the chance to have more of them.

93. ROSEMARY'S BABY (1968, Roman Polanski)

From producer William Castle– yeah, you heard me right!– comes one of the finest horror films of the 1960's, or of any other era. Castle recognized his dramatic limitations (handing the reins ultimately to master of claustrophobic/metropolitan/conspiracy-horror, Roman Polanski), but he does show up for a brief, wordless, yet somehow amazingly hammy cameo during the phone booth scene. Regardless, this is really Polanski's film, and he spins the tale with paranoid gusto and eye-popping imagery; swirling, hallucinogenic dream sequences and off-kilter quotidian happenings. It's a hotbed of primal fears and existential dread: Polanski has got his finger on just the right nerve, and he plucks and twangs it unceasingly– rape, domestic terrors, body horror, the things we try to hide, the things we don't understand, our fear of doctors and the elderly and babies and enclosed spaces and antiquarian objects and of failure and of seeming crazy and of going crazy; and it all begins to collapse upon you like a black hole and a cry unto the pit– SWEET GOD, WHAT A MOVIE!!!

Also, Ruth Gordon and Sidney Blackmer are just about the most adorably frightening and frighteningly adorable elderly actors I've ever seen (not to be confused with the elderly actors from #94!). And I have to say that John Cassavetes' "I didn't want to miss baby night" has got to rank as the most hilariously inappropriate excuse ever uttered, on or off a camera. (You'll know what I mean if you've seen the film– yikes!)

92. FAIL-SAFE (1964, Sidney Lumet)

It's difficult to incorporate methodical, systematically structured storytelling with genuine emotional stakes, but goddamn, does Lumet pull it together, and with the fate of the human race in the balance, no less! Most prefer DR. STRANGELOVE, which is sort of a loose, parodic retelling, but for my money, FAIL-SAFE's the stronger film. Some have said that STRANGELOVE's satire cuts to the bone, but I say FAIL-SAFE cuts to the bone, then fractures the bone, and then looks down at the bone, somberly, as tears well up in FAIL-SAFE's eyes. FAIL-SAFE then clenches its jaw; anguished, but with an abundance of dignity. As a side note, by and large, though your average fictional president is more appealing than your average actual president, I have to say that Henry Fonda's portrayal in this film goes beyond that– he is so sincere, so thoughtful, so determined, so damned invested, that you wish he really was the president. Also: Dom DeLuise in a serious role– chew on that for a little while.

91. BIG TROUBLE IN LITTLE CHINA (1986, John Carpenter)

"Have you paid your dues, Jack– yessir, the check is in the mail." I've written a few observations about BIG TROUBLE IN LITTLE CHINA before, saying "it's about the exhilaration of being ALIVE in a world of unfathomable mystery," and, of Kurt Russell's performance, "he's a runaway train of swagger, guts, and bluster...I never tire of his maniacally youthful cackle, or his proclivity toward moaning 'Awwwwww, CHRIST!'" In short, it's one hell of a time, written, directed, and performed by artists and craftsmen who are having one hell of a time. But it's no mindless shoot-em-up: it's a Hawksian ode to the bonds of friendship, the measure of character, and those ecstatic moments of temerarious action, where, against all better judgment, you feel damn near invulnerable. (Also, you just drank from the six-demon bag.) And, while we're at it, how 'bout that kickin' song over the end credits?


Coming up next...
George Romero's favorite movie, a legendary documentary, and... a movie with a lesser Baldwin!

Film Review: THE OFFENCE (1972, Sidney Lumet)

Stars: 5 of 5.
Running Time: 112 minutes.
Notable Cast or Crew: Directed by Sidney Lumet (DOG DAY AFTERNOON, Q&A, BEFORE THE DEVIL KNOWS YOU'RE DEAD, FAIL-SAFE, FIND ME GUILTY). Starring Sean Connery, Trevor Howard (BRIEF ENCOUNTER, an elder in SUPERMAN), Ian Bannen (nominated for an Oscar for FLIGHT OF THE PHOENIX, in Castellari's INGLORIOUS BASTARDS and Gibson's BRAVEHEART), Vivien Merchant (FRENZY). Based on the play and written by John Hopkins (THUNDERBALL).
Tag-line: "After 20 years what Detective-Sergeant Johnson has seen and done is destroying him."

Inside the man, there is another man. This is the issue at the heart of John Hopkins' masterful play, THIS STORY OF YOURS, which was adapted to film by the legendary Sidney Lumet (12 ANGRY MEN, THE HILL). One of the best, frequently overlooked, director/actor collaborations (which in my mind can stand tall beside the likes of Scorsese/De Niro or von Sternberg/Dietrich) is that between Lumet and Sean Connery (who was allowed to make his "little art film" as part of a deal with UA for playing Bond once more). He transforms 'Detective Sgt. Johnson' into perhaps his greatest role, and it's one of the great tortured souls in cinema, alongside Lorre in M and Milland in THE LOST WEEKEND.

Johnson finds himself in a terrible place, completely unsure of how he got there- his home life is a war of attrition between himself and the missus; his work life is a barrage of banality, bureaucracy, and brutality; and his inner life is an endless horrorshow- thousands and thousands of pictures and urges and compulsions that won't stop, that won't stop, no matter how hard he concentrates, no matter how hard he tries to extinguish them.

While interrogating an accused child molester, he subconsciously sees a chance for punishment, confession, perhaps even Tabula rasa, a clean slate. We delve deep, past the oppressive glow of the overhead lamp, into the darkest abyss... Perhaps the quotidian horror of it all can be best illustrated by a brief shot of a policeman, vacantly, aimlessly stabbing a pond with a stick, trying to find a child's corpse. As the suspect, Ian Bannen is absolutely brilliant- slimy, otherworldly, compelling:

As Johnson's higher-up, Trevor Howard brings his wise, lionhearted presence to the first character to stand up to Johnson's bullishness:

Visually, the film recalls the best of Melville and Roeg: fishbowl lenses, muted landscapes, entrancing slow motion, and fractured editing, which combine to build the perfect unsettling atmosphere. Truly one of the great films.

-Sean Gill

Film Review: Q&A (1990, Sidney Lumet)

Stars: 4 of 5.
Running Time: 132 minutes.
Notable Cast or Crew: Nick Nolte, Timothy Hutton (Romero's THE DARK HALF, KINSEY, ORDINARY PEOPLE), Luis Guzman (THE LIMEY, THE SUBSTITUTE, TRAFFIC), Armand Assante (THE ODYSSEY TV miniseries, JUDGE DREDD, STRIPTEASE) , Charles S. Dutton (SE7EN, CROCODILE DUNDEE II, SURVIVING THE GAME), Paul Calderon (BAD LIEUTENANT, COP LAND, PULP FICTION), Jenny Lumet (Sidney's daughter, writer of RACHEL GETTING MARRIED), Fyvush Finkel (PICKET FENCES, NIXON), Rubén Blades soundtrack.
Tag-lines: "When the questions are dangerous, the answers can be deadly. " Seriously. What the hell kind of tag-line is that?
Best one-liner: "You know, we knew you was a punk then but you're being a punk now. Yeah, detective, come on, you couldn't find a fucking Jew in Rockaway. You know, you got a badge and a gun but you're still a punk so shut the fuck up."

Q: Has Sidney Lumet ever made a bad movie?
A: Maybe just once. But we're not here to talk about THE WIZ, we're here to talk about Q&A.

Q: So how is Q&A?
A: It's pretty damn brilliant. It's Abel Ferrara gritty, it's got the Lumet police procedural, melodrama, and man vs. the system we've seen in SERPICO and PRINCE OF THE CITY, and it's got a ridiculously good ensemble cast.

Q: How ridiculously good?
A: Nolte is a goddamned powerhouse as the closeted, completely vicious, macho old-school cop. He's corpulent, terrifying, and larger than life.

Nolte terrorizes hookers...


...and Timothy Hutton...

...with great ease...

...and sinister flair.

Armand Assante, Luis Guzman, and Paul Calderon shine, as always, and Timothy Hutton is formidable as our entry point into this world of cigar-smoke-filled-room deals, gleeful corruption, and good-old-boys' protections.

Q: Does Lumet ask the tough questions?
A: He leaps headfirst into a world of racism, homophobia, trans sex workers, and rampant police corruption, so...yeah. He doesn't gloss over any detail, showing a sick, prejudiced, oligarchical world that's unlikely to be cured by anything short of an apocalypse.

Q: Well, if you're gushing all over the place, why just four stars?
A: Well, I'll tell you. Q&A falls in that span between 1990 and 1994 when the 80's were getting awkwardly phased out and it became especially evident in film music. Wang Chung feels perfectly natural in TO LIVE AND DIE IN L.A. because that's supposed to be the aesthetic- 80's summer heat, gently pulsating beats, and lots of pastels. The musical mess that Ruben Blades concocts here is not tied to anything, works against the aesthetics, and definitely undermines the film. Something like a Howard Shore score (think his soundtrack for Cronenberg's CRASH) would have been a perfect fit.
Anyway, the film also ends on a note that screams studio intervention. So overall, four stars, but still a brilliant film. It's all there in the Q&A.