Podcasting Them Softly

The Nickel Ride is a cool as a cucumber crime film from 1974, patiently directed by Robert Mulligan (Summer of ’42, The Stalking Moon, To Kill A Mockingbird) from a sly, morally ambiguous screenplay by then-newbie Eric Roth (Munich, Forrest Gump, The Curious Case of Benjamin Button, The Insider). The plot centers on a “key-man” named Cooper (Jason Miller), who works for a local crime syndicate, and always carries his ubiquitous key chain at all times. His job is to run a group of Los Angeles-based warehouses that house stolen goods, but things get complicated when a real estate deal turns south and local gangsters led by an evil John Hillerman who feel threatened by Cooper’s knowledge of the ins and outs of the various illegal activities. Before he knows it, someone has been sent to kill him. But who? And why? Roth’s script is clever and shifty, never giving up its full hand until the final moments, and it must be said that Miller’s ability to convey pensive, sullen, broken-down alpha males was truly signature.

The film is more about its tense atmosphere and the anxiety that Miller projects as an actor than it is about anything else; his underplayed performance rests in his eyes and body language and the way his sullen face is captured within the frame. The Nickel Ride was shot in 2.35:1 widescreen with a love for shadows and darkness by legendary cinematography Jordan Cronenweth (Blade Runner, Cutter’s Way, Altered States, Rolling Thunder) and features a low-key musical score from Dave Grusin (The Friends of Eddie Coyle, Three Days of the Condor, Oscar-winner for The Milagro Beanfield War). The Nickel Ride screened at the 1974 Cannes Film Festival and was nominated for the Palme d’Or before getting lost in the theatrical market with less than a $2 million domestic gross. The film is available on DVD as a double feature with the outlandishly entertaining John Frankenheimer oddity 99 and 44/100% Dead from Shout! Factory, and would easily fit the bill for a great night of 70’s crime cinema where you never can truly guess how things will end up.

Nate and Tim are joined by Frank, Kyle and Bill to discuss the first two hours of David Lynch’s triumphant return to the small town filled with secrets.

“The Fox and the Hound” (1981) dir. Ted Berman, Richard Rich, Art Stevens

One of Disney’s more adult efforts, ‘The Fox and the Hound’ is an endearing morality tale depicting the negative long term effects of tribalism. Todd, a fox and Cooper, a hound become childhood best friends only to realize as they grow older that they must adhere to the roles of their respective cultures and cannot be the friends they once were.

The filmmakers do a remarkable job at the outset of developing the friendship between the young hound and the young fox. It is extremely genuine. A tad hammy but not false. This foundation holds the film together. Cooper is derided by his peers for befriending a fox but is given the benefit of the doubt because of his youth. The older hunting dog Chief and the master, Mr. Slade, are metaphorically unabashed racists as the film brazenly makes its case that bigotry is not inherent in the young but is instead learned by one’s elders and their culture. This film is also astute enough to point out that even the seemingly enlightened woodland creatures who befriend Todd are just as responsible for the general state of things. While they may acknowledge that societal prejudice is wrong, their refusal to do anything about it makes them benign accomplices all the same.

It should be noted that ‘The Fox and the Hound’ features to-die-for voice work by Mickey Rooney, Kurt Russell, Corey Feldman, Sandy Duncan, Pat Buttram and Pearl Bailey. Hard to imagine what this film would have been like without them.

Much has been made about whether or not Chief should have been killed. The new blood at Disney working on the project argued vehemently the Chief should be killed but the old guard voted them down. I certainly agree that the film would have had more narrative bite (ha!) if Chief had been killed. As it stands the retribution seems a little wonky even for Disney logic but it doesn’t raise much of an eyebrow. In my opinion it was a small price to pay in order to get the film’s message across.

Life is unfair, people. And as this film shows us, most of life is spent within the grey areas as opposed to the blacks and whites. Even the most dramatic moments in our lives end in neither clear victory nor defeat. When Cooper stands up to Mr. Slade at the end of the film, refusing to betray Todd – it is merely a truce of sorts. It is no victory for multiculturalism nor defeat for isolationism. There is merely a mournful acceptance that the fox and the hound cannot coexist for many frustrating reasons. But for a brief period of time, Todd and Cooper proved that they could. Society, my friends, can be a very oppressive force. One that influences people far too often to betray their more noble instincts for the ‘good’ of the pack. We could all be more mindful of this.

Stanley Kramer’s timeless drama Inherit the Wind still has the capacity to rouse and startle, and remains scarily relevant in today’s increasingly Idiocracy-leaning society. Co-written by blacklisted screenwriter Nedrick Young and Harold Jacob Smith, the film was based on the play by Jerome Lawrence and Robert Edwin Lee and inspired by the famous “Scopes Monkey Trial” in 1925, where creationism vs. evolution was up for debate. Starring Spencer Tracy, Fredric Marsh, Gene Kelly, Dick York, Donna Anderson, Claude Akins, Harry Morgan, and Elliot Reed, there’s not a bad performance in the entire bunch, and the film’s black and white photography by Ernest Laszlo is consistently dynamic, which was no small feat considering that much of the action takes place in a courtroom. I was introduced to this film by my father early in my formative movie-buff years, and I’ve revisited it numerous times as it always provides an intellectual punch, and serves as a potent reminder of how mixing religion with law is a terrible idea.

I’ve been a big fan of director Barry Levinson (Wag the Dog, The Natural, Rain Main, Bandits, Bugsy) over the years, and one of my favorites from him is his 1987 dramedy Tin Men, which features a trio of fantastic performances from Danny DeVito and Richard Dreyfuss as competing aluminum siding salesman who cross paths with each other, and Barbara Hershey as the woman who they compete for. Levinson wrote the humorous and fond-memories screenplay (it’s the second of his four “Baltimore Films”, with the others being 1982’s Diner, Avalon in 1990, and the very underrated Liberty Heights in 1999) and it’s abundantly clear that he’s always had a great ear for dialogue, especially in the films that he’s set in his home state of Maryland. Peter Sova’s unfussy cinematography is stylish without calling attention to itself, Stu Linder’s crisp editing keeps the comedic timing sharp and on-point from all the actors, and the wonderful supporting cast includes J.T. Walsh, Bruno Kirby, Seymour Cassel, John Mahoney, and Jackie Gayle. The Fine Young Cannibals contributed to the soundtrack and made an appearance during a nightclub sequence, and the film ended up grossing $25 million in theaters off of strong critical notices. Tin Men is currently available on DVD and via Amazon streaming and feels like the sort of film that a present day studio executive would laugh you out of their office for pitching to them.