The Screengrab : night shift

The Best & Worst Get Rich Quick Schemes In Cinema History (Part Five)

Andrew Osborne — Thu, 16 Apr 2009 22:00:00 GMT

KELLY’S HEROES (1970)

Like Three Kings (which it no doubt inspired), Kelly’s Heroes drops a heist flick into the middle of a war movie and winds up making some interesting points about free will versus obedience in a military setting where the grunts on the ground sometimes have more in common with the low-level enemy soldiers they’re fighting than they do with their high-ranking, high-living superiors. “You and us, we’re just soldiers, right?” Telly Savalas’ Master Sergeant “Big Joe” says to a German tank commander at one point. “We don’t even know what this war’s all about. All we do is we fight and we die and for what? We don’t get anything out of it.” True, the sentiment’s a little sketchy when the conflict in question is “The Good War” and the enemy solider in question is wearing Nazi S.S. stripes...but in the midst of the far less good Vietnam War, director Brian G. Hutton’s celebration of enlightened self-interest reached out to peaceniks and free market capitalists alike, courting both groups with a truly bizarre combination of actors including Savalas, Clint Eastwood, Caroll O’Connor, Donald Sutherland, Harry Dean Stanton and Don Rickles. Sure, the movie’s pretty good...but I’m guessing it’s nowhere near as entertaining as the wrap party must have been. (AO)

USED CARS (1980)

This rowdy, ingenious comedy with the iconic title is like the history of con game farce impacted into a single, shiny object. It's about a war that breaks out between two rival car lots run by a pair of brothers (both played by Jack Warden), and it consists of one bold act of one-upmanship after another, with most of the schemes tinged with personal maliciousness. The nicer of the two Jack Wardens checks out early after his meaner number hires a stunt driver to take him on a test ride so scary that it induces a fatal coronary in the old duffer; his second-in-command, Kurt Russell, takes charge and prevents his nemesis from inheriting the lot by installing the boss' corpse behind the wheel of an old jalopy and burying it on the property. The movie's high point of brash invention comes when Russell and his team hire a couple of underground mechanical wizards (Michael McKean and David L. Lander, then joined at the hip as TV's Lenny and Squiggy) to jack into a televised presidential address so that they can cut into it with a live commercial, filmed on their rival's lot. (PN)

EATING RAOUL (1982)

Cult director Paul Bartel had his biggest indie hit with this homemade black comedy, in which he and the Amazonian Mary Woronov play an uptight, asexual married couple -- Paul and Mary Bland -- who accidentally murder a "swinger" (Garry Goodrow) who has invaded their home and tried to put the greasy moves on Mary. After cleaning out his pockets and coming to the conclusion -- which the movie seems to support -- that these polyester-clad degenerates will never be missed, the Blands adapt their discovery to an assembly line, putting ads in "swinger" papers to attract perverts who Paul dispatches with a konk to the head from his skillet. It adds something to the charm of the whole enterprise that the movie itself was a get-rich-quick scheme, which Bartel filmed in spurts over the course of several months, gathering cast and crew whenever he had enough money to proceed. Funding for the planned sequel, Bland Ambition, fell through, but the movie did inspire a comic book adaptation by underground legend Kim Deitch, as well as a later stage adaptation. Bartel and Woronov also revived their characters in a cameo for the 1986 horror movie Chopping Mall, for no clear reason except that they must have been in the area and the director offered them pie. (PN)

NIGHT SHIFT (1982)

This early Ron Howard film benefits immeasurably from Michael Keaton's performance, in his feature film debut, as a morgue attendant who persuades his rabbity supervisor (Henry Winkler) to turn the premises into the center of operations for a prostitution ring. This idea has detectable flaws, but they don't seem to matter much because of the enthusiasm with which Keaton embraces his brilliant concept and allows -- no, encourages -- it to take over and remake his life. His white boy with a taste for the pimp style now actually looks kind of prescient. And the fact that actual pimps made no serious attempt to adopt his euphemism for the profession, "love broker", make one weep for the lack of imagination of the human race. (PN)

Click Here For Part One, Two, Three, Four & Six

Contributors: Andrew Osborne, Phil Nugent

The Screengrab 24-Hour Stephen King Marathon (Part Two)

Scott Von Doviak — Wed, 29 Oct 2008 19:00:00 GMT

Introduction

Part One

6 a.m. – 8 a.m. CHILDREN OF THE CORN (1984)

Some would say I’m crazy for undertaking this 24-hour marathon, but I do have my limits. For example, I had briefly considered doing a marathon of every Children of the Corn movie instead. As you may or may not know, there are seven total Corn movies, of which the final five were released straight to video. I find this odd for many reasons, not least of which is that corn isn’t generally considered to be scary. (Creamed corn, on the other hand…terrifying.) Fortunately I came to my senses, so you’ll only find this one Children of the Corn here. Based on another Night Shift short story, the film begins with a tried-and-true King set-up, as bickering couple Burt (Peter Horton) and Vicky (Linda Hamilton) drive across country via some scenic back roads. While passing through Nebraska (hey, it’s not like Children of the Corn was going to take place in New Jersey), they hit a young boy with their car. But it turns out the kid was already dead, a sacrifice by the children of Gatlin to He Who Walks Behind the Rows. These brats have already killed off all the adults in town under the leadership of Isaac, another one of King’s patented Creepy Kids. Can Burt and Vicky escape Gatlin without being sacrificed to the corn demon? I’ll be honest, I think I nodded off for a few minutes near the end of this one. I do have a vague memory of Linda Hamilton tied to a cornstalk crucifix, but that’s about it.

King’s cameo: He doesn’t appear in person, but there’s a paperback copy of Night Shift on Burt’s dashboard.

8 a.m. – 10 a.m. DESPERATION (2006)

Am I still watching Children of the Corn? For a minute there, I thought I was looking at Peter Horton driving through the middle of nowhere again, but it turned out to be Steven Weber. Weber, of course, starred as Jack Torrance in the “Why would you do this?” TV miniseries of The Shining. That misbegotten enterprise, as well as the epic TV version of The Stand and many other King things, was directed by Mick Garris, who must have photos of the author with an underage goat. Garris also directed Desperation for TV, but managed to confine this one to a single night. We’ve got another town at the ass-end of nowhere – in this case, Desperation, Nevada – where all the inhabitants are dead. Everyone who happens to be passing through gets pulled over by Sheriff Collie Entragian (Ron Perlman), who finds some pretext to arrest them, lock them up, and, at his leisure, kill them. This is because Entragian is possessed by a demon unearthed from the local strip-mine. One of his detainees is another Creepy Kid, David, who has suddenly gotten religion after being locked in a jail cell by a scary sheriff possessed by a demon. It’s as good a time as any, I suppose. The theology of Desperation is a little murky, but the movie did give me some insight into King’s creative process. I imagine it goes a little like this: King is pulled over for speeding in some shitty little town. Surly cop gives him a ticket. King thinks, “You know what would make this suck even harder? If this cop was possessed by a demon!” Presto, another 600-page novel is born. This ESPN spot would appear to back up my theory:

10 a.m. – Noon SLEEPWALKERS (1992)

Hey, it’s Mick Garris again! And Ron Perlman as another surly lawman, although this one doesn’t appear to be possessed. He does get his arm ripped off, though. Sleepwalkers is actually Garris’s first collaboration with Stephen King, based on the author’s first original screenplay (that is, not adapted from a previously extant novel or short story). Madchen Amick, the most underrated of the Twin Peaks girls, falls for the new boy in town, handsome, vapid Charles Brady (Brian Krause). Little does she know Charles has an incestuous relationship with his hot mom Mary (Alice Krige). But that’s not all! Charles and Mary are both shape-shifting cat people who feed on virgins – possibly the last of their race. Oddly enough, the only thing that can stop them is an attack by an actual cat. It’s a dilemma for poor Charlie; he kinda likes Madchen Amick, but he kinda has to feed her to his hot mom. High school is hard! In the movie’s highlight, Mary kills a cop by impaling him with an ear of corn. OK, so I was wrong. Corn is scary.

King’s cameo: He’s the cemetery caretaker who doesn’t want to be blamed for the mutilated corpses found there.

Part Three

The Screengrab 24-Hour Stephen King Marathon (Part One)

Scott Von Doviak — Tue, 28 Oct 2008 20:00:00 GMT

Introduction

Midnight – 2 a.m. FIRESTARTER (1984)

Here’s an inauspicious beginning to our little festival. We can start with the resume of director Mark L. Lester, a career on the fringes highlighted by Truck Stop Women, Roller Boogie and Class of 1984. Then there’s the second-rate source material, seemingly inspired by the question, “What if Carrie got her powers before her first period and had a more supportive parent?” Put them together and you have a shoddy little supernatural thriller starring a puffy little Drew Barrymore as Charlie, the girl who sets fires with her mind. Charlie was born with this ability after her parents Andy (David Keith) and Vicky (Heather Locklear) took part in a medical experiment conducted by the shadowy government agency The Shop. This same agency, headed up by Martin Sheen with an impressively poofy head of hair, is now pursuing Andy (who has that kind of ESP that makes your nose bleed) and Charlie, who they believe will develop the capability of burning down the entire planet. To that end, Sheen brings in John Rainbird, a maniacal child-killer with an eyepatch and a ponytail. Would you cast George C. Scott in this role? Mark Lester did. Terrible performances abound – I’m gonna go ahead and guess that Barrymore started drinking on this set – but at least there’s always a chance that the actors will burst into flames. The horrendous score by Tangerine Dream carbon dates the movie to the exact second of its release. The ending is stolen outright from Three Days of the Condor, but at least in the book, King had the good sense to admit that’s what he had in mind.

2 a.m. – 4 a.m. THE MANGLER (1995)

Before he was the world’s best-selling author, King worked in an industrial laundromat and supplemented his income by selling short stories to skin magazines. The Mangler is based on one such story, which concerns an industrial laundry machine that becomes possessed by a demon and starts killing people. And you wonder where he gets his ideas. To the best of my recollection, the short story (found in the Night Shift collection) runs only a few pages. It’s been a long time since I read it, so I’m not sure exactly what director Tobe Hooper and his screenwriters added to stretch it out to feature length. It couldn’t have been much, though. Hooper gives us an impressively Dickensian laundry, all hissing steam and dark grinding gears and sweaty, filthy, bosomy workers. Robert “Freddy Krueger” Englund seems to think he’s Dickensian in his layers of old age makeup and clanky mechanical legs, but my guess is his performance was sponsored by Honey Baked Ham. The premise: the gigantic folding machine gets a taste of virgin blood, awakening its inner demon. Said machine begins feeding on the laundresses and then, when it breaks free of its moorings and goes mobile, everyone else. Ted Levine gives an enjoyably unhinged performance as the cop investigating this peculiar turn of events, but there’s nowhere near enough story here to sustain a 106-minute running time.

4 a.m. – 6 a.m. CHRISTINE (1983)

One of King’s recurring themes is Our Machines Will Kill Us. (Perhaps you’ve heard of The Mangler?) Another one is Revenge of the Nerd (as in the abovementioned Carrie). Put them both together and you’ve got Christine, in which nerd meets car, car turns nerd into cool guy, car starts killing cool guy’s enemies. Fresh off his remake of The Thing, John Carpenter directed this solid if undistinguished adaptation of King’s killer car tale. (“Solid if undistinguished” is pretty much Carpenter’s stock in trade; he’s a meat-and-potatoes B-movie guy, and I’m guessing he’d take that as a compliment.) Give him this much: Carpenter was the first to use George Thorogood’s “Bad to the Bone” in a movie – it plays as the red 1958 Plymouth Fury rolls off the assembly line under the opening credits – and Terminator or no Terminator, it’s still the best use of the song ever. Twenty years later, loser Arnie Cunningham (Keith Gordon) spots the Fury rusting in a vacant lot and it’s love at first sight. Before long, Arnie has ditched his nerd glasses and restored the car named Christine to its former glory, and the bullies who once plagued him are meeting untimely ends beneath her wheels. Carpenter makes spooky use of ’50s rock and roll, which effectively acts as the ghost in the machine, and comes up with a few nifty images, notably Christine ablaze and pursuing one of Arnie’s tormenters like a literal Car From Hell. The pre-CGI shots of the car regenerating itself after being vandalized are a hoot, and the grand finale, in which Christine is run over with a bulldozer and crushed into a cube, is cathartic for any disgruntled car owner.

Part Two