Podcasting Them Softly

It took me a few viewings to totally appreciate Hal Ashby’s barely released 1986 film 8 Million Ways To Die, which was the eclectic helmer’s unique spin on the crime film, and would serve as his final major motion picture. This was the first attempt to cinematically adapt the Matt Scudder detective story series from author Lawrence Block, with a gritty screenplay coming from future auteur Oliver Stone, and uncredited rewrites taking place by Robert Towne and R. Lance Hill (who ended up using the pseudonym David Lee Henry). Starring Jeff Bridges, Rosanna Arquette in one of her best and sexiest performances, and an extra-volatile Andy Garcia in one of his first leading roles and in total scene stealing mode, the movie died a very fast box office death, and was met with savage reviews from critics. It’s still not even available on American DVD or Blu-ray, with only a Region B DVD currently available. The film has a scattershot narrative that’s both pulpy and energetic, and yet still feels compromised in some instances. But there’s still something fascinating going on within the narrative and with certain aesthetic choices made by Ashby. Stephen H. Burum’s sinewy and seedy cinematography stressed an alternatively shadowy and sometimes neon-inflected color palette, while the excellent music from James Newton Howard kept an appropriately shifty and dangerous sonic ambiance. The filmmaker was reportedly fired from the movie before it was finished, which might explain why the film feels so choppy in spots, as he wasn’t allowed to collaborate on the final editorial process. It’s an odd yet entertaining film, with some cool moments, but exists as a curious “What if?” on Ashby’s legendary filmography.

I’ve wanted to screen Michael Cimino’s last theatrical effort, 1996’s Sunchaser, ever since it went straight to video after playing for one week in one theater and grossing $21,508. So with the recent passing of this much discussed filmmaker, I figured it was finally time to experience his swan song as an artist. This is an ambitious film, and while I greatly preferred the first hour to the second, there’s no denying that a sense of pure cinema ran through Cimino’s blood, and that he was born to make movies, even if the extraordinary promise of his first three films didn’t lead to the totally exalted career that he might have otherwise attained. All of his features post Heaven’s Gate were mired in behind the scenes controversy, and yet he leaves behind such an eclectic and overall surprising body of work that it’s hard not to understand why he’s beloved by so many.

Starring Woody Harrelson as a yuppie Los Angeles doctor who is about to hit it big time at his current hospital with a big departmental promotion, the film centers on his kidnapping experience at the hands of a 16 year old juvenile convict (John Seda, who looked more like he was in his early 20’s), a street thug sent to the joint for the brutal murder of his abusive stepfather. The twist – the killer is suffering from terminal cancer, and once overhearing that he has one or two months left to live, decides to kidnap his good doctor with the plans of travelling to Arizona so that he can meet up with a Navajo Medicine Man at a supposedly sacred mountain lake. And even when the screenplay gets heavy-handed, as it frequently does, and strains logical credibility, as it frequently does, there’s something fascinating and hard to pin down about this unique yet frustrating effort.

Biting off more than it could properly chew, Charles Leavitt’s overheated and oddly constructed script was a strange if potent beast, with wild shifts in tone working in tandem with a half-predictable, half-unexpected narrative that certainly sacrifices logical honesty in favor of being outright cinematic, especially during the final act. Harrelson was smartly cast against type as a buttoned up man who slowly beings to unravel (this was a few performances after his seminal work in Natural Born Killers), while Seda, despite looking much older than what the story called for, was absolutely fantastic and beyond intense in his part, totally anguished and dangerous one moment and then strangely sympathetic the next. The bold and extremely dynamic 2.35:1 anamorphic widescreen cinematography by Douglas Milsome (Full Metal Jacket, Breakdown) stressed open spaces and went for the visceral at all times, with certain driving scenes recalling Friedkin and Mann, while the sequences at the Grand Canyon carried an immense sense of geographical splendor. I’d hate to see how this movie looks in the pan and scan format because they shot this film SUPER wide.

The overly bombastic musical score by Maurice Jarre was at times head-scratching in its decision making, but added a further level of creativity to the proceedings. At a price of $30 million, the film became such a financial wipe out that it clearly served as the final nail in the coffin for Cimino as a filmmaker, studio based or independent. And even if Sunchaser isn’t entirely successful (the quick glimpses of social commentary feel strangely tacked on, with lingering shots of second hand action by unimportant characters included here and there), it still contains that hot-blooded sense of inherent filmmaking that all of Cimino’s work possessed, which immediately makes it better and more interesting than a majority of the films that are being released today. Despite the negative domestic response, Sunchaser was nominated for the Palm D’Or at the 1996 Cannes Film Festival. Available on DVD to purchase or rent.

Tipping its hat to Clint Eastwood’s The Outlaw Josey Wales while recalling certain masculine aspects of Sydney Pollack’s epic adventure Jeremiah Johnson and portions of Man in the Wilderness from director Richard Sarafian, the 2006 films Seraphim Falls was ruggedly and forcefully directed by David Von Ancken, a TV veteran who made an auspicious feature debut with this rough and violent revisionist Western that benefited from contemporary production values while exploring time-honored themes of revenge, personal survival, and feverish bloodlust. While watching it, you can see how it might have set some sort of template for last year’s Oscar winning masterpiece The Revenant from challenging filmmaker Alejandro González Iñárritu. Von Ancken co-wrote the terse and effective screenplay with Abby Everett Jaques, with the action centering on two men pitted against each other in a bounty hunt to the death. The time is the late 1860’s, and a Union solider (Pierce Brosnan) has become the prey for a Confederate colonel (Liam Neeson), while the excellent supporting cast including Michael Wincott, Tom Noonan, Kevin J. O’Connor, Ed Lauter, Xander Berkely, Wes Studi, Angie Harmon, and Anjelica Houston filled the edges of the intense and sometimes physically overwhelming narrative. John Toll’s superb cinematography shot for the epic at all times, while still getting down-and-dirty personal when called for, while the tight and economical editing by Conrad Buff kept the film moving at a brisk yet coherent clip. The pulse quickening musical score by Harry Gregson-Williams accentuated every scene without ever becoming overbearing, while both Neeson and Brosnan were perfectly suited as mortal adversaries, with a narrative outcome that’s both surprising and satisfying in equal measure. After premiering at the 2006 Toronto International Film Festival, Seraphim Falls received a very limited theatrical release (I saw it at the Arclight in Los Angeles in a mostly empty theater), this is one of those rarely discussed films that certainly deserves to find a new set of fans, as it will certainly delight those who love a gritty, action-packed period piece with piss ‘n vinegar to spare. Seraphim Falls is available on DVD and on a UK-release Blu-ray that does happen to be a region free disc.

Released in a compromised form in 1982, Lookin’ to Get Out found Hal Ashby back in full on comedy mode, taking on a jaunty, semi-improvised project written by Al Schwartz and Jon Voight, who also starred as a degenerate gambler who heads out to Vegas with his partner (an extra affable Burt Young), in an effort to hit it big and avoid punishment from the hoods to whom they owe gambling debts. The film was loosely scripted and feels that way in many spots, and features a seven year old Angelina Jolie in her big screen debut as Voight’s daughter. The lovely Ann-Margaret made a colorful supporting turn, while the film has a tone that is mostly comedic but dramatic in a few key spots to keep it grounded. This was one of the last big movies of Ashby’s career, which was compromised by drug and alcohol abuse and repeated fights with producers and executives, resulting in a huge disagreement with the studio and loss of final cut over the picture. As legend has it, some years ago, Voight was at a speaking engagement at USC, and discovered that a version of the film being shown to students was somehow Ashby’s original cut, which had been considered gone, lost, or buried. Voight brought it to the attention of Warner Brothers, who then released Ashby’s director’s cut on DVD in 2009. While certainly not a bad film, it’s entertaining and frequently smart and funny, but it doesn’t have that special spark that made his films from the 70’s so unique. But for fans of this filmmaker, it’s most definitely worth seeking out.