Kevin Spacey is masterful in his voicing of the equally masterful screenplay of American Beauty, written by Alan Ball. Spacey calibrates perfectly the voice of a middle age loser, who transforms into anything but, and at that climatic moment, when he simply says he’s feeling, “great,” when someone, a beautiful teenage girl, finally asks, “how are you?”, he loses his life to a point blank bullet in the head. Spacey’s spoken lines capture the pathos of a weary and beaten-down husband, father, and cubicle-based employee on the verge of being fired, and then charges up his speech as he begins his rise from the living dead, motivated by the urge to get between the loins of a Lolita-like high school girl, who is his daughter’s best friend. His language becomes more emphatic, the voicing of a man finally taking command of his life. He dies happy, as signified by the way, Ricky, his dope dealer, troubled boy next door, daughter’s boyfriend, and son of the man who murders him, smiles curiously at him, while his head lies in a pool of blood. What would come next for this character? Would he return to his wife, his once great love, or would he simply shove off, and continue his journey of breathing life into his former depleted soul? The screenwriter opted not to tie-up loose ends in such a way, the ends are knotted with a sudden termination. Spacey, in voiceover narration, describes poignantly how his life flashed through his eyes in his moment of death, and his memories are pleasant, including thoughts of his estranged daughter as a loving child, and his once beloved wife, laughing while on a carnival ride, who sadly forgot how to do it. Spacey deserved his Academy Award as Best Actor, the film itself for its Best Picture award, and Ball for Best Screenplay. The film lives on as a timeless classic.
- Godfather and Godfather II: Let’s take them as one. The best all-time movie with a sequel. Francis Ford Coppola, with a screenwriting assists from the Godfather author Mario Puzo and Robert Towne (talk about an “A team”) set the standard for good mob films, and many excellent ones followed, particularly by Scorsese (Goodfellas, Casino, which rank among my very top favorites).
- Apocalypse Now: So, I’m a Coppola fan (when he was in his prime). He was a screenwriter who became a director, and he blended his skills to create masterpieces. The beginning of the film to the trip down the river is a classic, and the film only starts to fade, remarkably, with Brando’s over the top depiction of Kurtz. Thank God for Dennis Hopper’s interjection in those final scenes.
- The Shawshank Redemption: This film was a good thing, maybe the best of things. Incomparable dialogue and narrative technique.
- Saving Private Ryan: The best war movie of all time. The murderous Omaha Beach landing scenes…no other war film can top the sense of realism and bloody chaos. It’s a director’s movie reflecting Spielberg’s mastery but the collaborative script was well-crafted, hitting all the numbers.
- Forrest Gump: Culturally influential, whenever it’s on TV, I will watch for the umpteenth time, and even suffer the commercials, though I could watch the film again without them! Who doesn’t use lines from that movie all the time? May the screenwriter Winston Groom bask in glory.
So many more but there is a top five! And a bottom five…
- Daddy Daycare: Eddie Murphy should have quit while he was ahead. Role reversal stereotype tropes, just unfunny.
- Shrek I and II: Not a fan of these crowd-pleasing Mike Myers vehicles in computer animation, sorry DreamWorks but Pixar just kicks your butt each and every time. And Eddie Murphy as the Donkey…as Donald Trump would say, “Sad.”
- The Cat in the Hat: I don’t think I laughed once when I took my kids to this bomb of a movie. Probably my too salty movie house popcorn with a Diet Coke was the best part.
- Any Adam Sandler movie fits into my bottom five. Insufferable, cannot bear to watch.
- Anchorman sequels: Will Ferrell should have quit while he was ahead, but we know he cannot. As you can see, I can be harsh on former Saturday Night Live stars when they misstep, and they have done so with frequency. For example, I did not pick on Chevy Chase, but I should have.
I watched “Hell or Highwater” while simultaneously reading the script. The director and/or the film editor cut a lot from the screenplay to shorten the film to 102 minutes, and I think some of the cut scenes might have enriched the film, nonetheless it succeeds, and it won considerable favor with both critics and audiences (97% and 88% respectively on Rotten Tomatoes). As a Texan, I loved the depiction of the dying oil towns in the barren, windswept prairies of Northwest Texas and bordering Oklahoma, and the characters as portrayed fit right in. The main actors, Chris Pine, Ben Foster, playing the bank robber brothers, Toby and Tanner, and Jeff Bridges, playing the Texas Ranger sheriff, Marcus, performed great characterizations of their assigned roles. The film captivates your attention from start to finish, a modern-day Bonnie and Clyde set in about the same place but with loving bank robbing brothers (sort of) instead of bank robbing lovers. We’ve seen the character of Marcus, the aging Texas Ranger sheriff on the cusp of retirement, before, and as fine a performance as Jeff Bridges delivered, Tommy Lee Jones, with a superior story, tops him as an aging Texas sheriff on the cusp of retirement in No Country for Old Men. Marcus is a curmudgeon, humorous, hard drinking racist who needles his “half-breed” Mexican/Native American deputy sheriff, but I didn’t feel much sympathy for him, so you end up rooting for the bank robbing brothers, who after all are robbing the bank chain that is stealing the land that their departed mother owned, and that land has oil on it, offering a solution for Toby’s desire to provide for his sons who live with his ex-wife. The evil bank stealing land from poor prairie folk takes a page from The Grapes of Wrath, but it delivers the reliable dramatic convention of the poor versus the corporate system, and a raison d’etre for all the bank robbing. The screenplay delivers faithfully on all points that a good screenplay must possess. We’re clear on what Toby wants, and the obstacles he faces, which include his risk-taking, once-jailed wild brother, Tanner; the Texas Rangers led by the wizened Marcus; and of course, the bank that wants to steal his dead mama’s land. I liked the film along with everybody else but here is what I noted that doesn’t work so well with the film. After Tanner dies at the sure-shot from Marcus, Toby escapes, and the subsequent lame explanation in the Texas Rangers’ office demonstrates that everyone is a dumbass except Marcus because they believed Toby had an alibi and no criminal record. And by the way, wouldn’t the Rangers have told Marcus they could not share case information with him now that he was retired and a private citizen? To reinforce the prior point, either the actor (Pine) or the director (David Mackenzie) decided (because it’s not in the script) that Toby would take a bullet in the Bonnie and Clyde shoot ‘em up as Toby and Tanner emerge from the last bank they rob (wow, the citizenry responded faster than the police!), but it was a great scene and Tanner’s crack during the getaway about the downside of “conceal and carry” for bank robbing was humorous, to which he adds poetic emphasis by scaring off the car chasin’ gun totin’ citizens with sprays from the assault rifle he probably bought from his friendly local gun show. Now, Toby probably would have had to treat that wound in a hospital, thus triggering suspicion, right? Well, charitably, we might conclude he treated it himself to evade capture. I could find other small quibbles but otherwise the film did not reach too far, and it provided great entertainment in a film landscape dominated with superheroes where super excessiveness is the new normal.
Father (protagonist), about 60 years old but craggily handsome, speaking to cute, young Vietnamese waitress: What’s your best phở on the menu?
Waitress: I like #5, with fatty brisket and round steak.
Father, with a slight smirk: Thẻ á (really)? Well, if you like it, I am sure I will like it. Give me the dặc biệt, nhé (the special, OK).
Waitress, fluttering: Wow anh (uncle), you speak good Vietnamese!
Father: Mọt chút thoi (just a little).
Waitress gives him a big smile: Oh no, you’re very good, anh! (She leaves for the kitchen).
Son (half-Asian, early 20’s): Nice, dad. So, you’re hitting on a waitress about 40 years younger than you.
Father: No, no, just trying to be friendly.
Son: I’ll bet you think she’s wringing out her panties in the bathroom she got so wet talking to you.
Father: What the hell are you talking about? Jesus…
Son: I know you’ve got this Asian woman fetish going on, all the fucking time. You married one, but you can’t stop there, can you?
Father: You can stop this bullshit anytime.
Son: I saw it on your fucking phone, Dad. Tell me the truth, you got girls over there in Vietnam? How many? Tell me, don’t fucking lie. Tell me the truth, or I will kick your ass. I may kick it anyway. Tell me! You’re cheating on my mother, right?
Father: It’s not your concern. You don’t know what I’ve been through. I love your mom but it’s been damn hard, dealing with her depression and anxiety, day in, day fucking out.
Son (rising in anger): Tell me, how many?
Father: It’s not your concern!
Son: Tell me, now, or I will fucking hit you, I swear.
Father (pleading): Michael…stop this…
Son: Tell me!
Father: OK, one.
Son: Fucking bastard. Who was it? What did you tell her? You just used her, right, you scumbag?
Father: That’s it, I’m leaving.
(Father gets up to leave, and walks outside the restaurant. Son follows him outside, and starts throwing punches at his father’s head. The father flees, with the son in pursuit. Just then, a police car happens by, and stops.)
- The protagonist, an advanced middle-aged man, lands at LAX airport, and gets in a cab to meet his wife and two sons.
- Protagonist has just made love to a woman, and as she sleeps soundly next to him, he looks to the ceiling, gets up, and heads to the outdoor balcony overlooking the ocean. He lights a joint, sighs, and says, “Oh, shit, what the hell. What the hell happened?”
- Protagonist is walking on the beach on a bright moonlit evening, holding hands with a beautiful Thai woman. She speaks to him in a sultry sing-song voice. He smiles blissfully as the froth from ocean waves lap on his feet.
- Protagonist is in a bar in Bangkok with aging gray-haired men drinking Chang beer and watching naked brown Thai women swing languidly from poles to a driving rock music beat.
- Protagonist books air ticket for Bangkok online, with a determined look on his face.
- Protagonist drives his drug-addled son home from an emergency room visit. The son accuses his father of cheating on his mother, and as they get out of the car, the son throws punches at his father’s head. The protagonist tries to ward off the blows, and then flees. A police car stops, an officer gets out, and asks, “What’s going on?”
I envy my Texas Orangeblood brethren waiting for the fall season’s action to commence today. Here in Jordan we await the season opener in the Middle East Conference. We have heavily favored visiting (US) Navy up against Syria State in a still unscheduled match. Returning starter Tom A. Hawk Cruise will lead Navy’s quick firing “missile offense” against Syria State’s outmatched defense, though Head Coach Assad promises a “graveyard” for the visiting team. Navy’s “CEO” Coach Obama counters that injuries should be slight since Cruise and his teammates will be heavily armored, in fact aren’t even human, and they will disintegrate each time they score. Air Force, Army and Marines might follow Navy in future matches, all against hapless Syria State, which for curious reasons is decimating its own fan base. Meanwhile, Great Britain has decided to leave the conference, possibly to be replaced by France (of all teams) in a surprise move. Other match-ups in the conference include the longstanding Israel-Palestine rivalry series (which Israel leads 100 to 0), Egypt Army versus Muslim Brotherhood, and Iraqi Shiites versus Sunnites, where action has already ensued with more fireworks in store. TV deals are solid for the conference with non-stop global coverage provided by CNN, Al Jazeera and every major network in the planet. Syria State has landed a major equipment and sponsorship deal with Russia and won endorsements from China but it remains to be seen if this will assist its campaign this fall. Osama Bin Laden will not be returning for Al Qaeda (ever) but the squad promises a bevy of fresh recruits following this season’s kickoff. Hook ’em from Amman.
I just got in from a few days in San Francisco. I observed the World Series victory parade for the Giants, million fans lining Market Street, wearing orange and black on Halloween Day in a highly festive atmosphere. It made me think that it might be a while before the Horns fans don the burnt orange on Guadalupe celebrating another national championship. Since that fine post-Rose Bowl day in early January 2006, we had some good seasons with ‘ol Colt and gang, but look at the situ now. Vince Young is no longer in the NFL and the Horns are no longer a BCS threat, it’s been a hullava long time since we whupped a ranked team, and meanwhile, we’ve been whupped plenty good by many teams that love to hate Texas. It’s been good times for them and Horns haters everywhere. Yeah, it’s a bit maudlin, I know, but the fortuneteller I consulted in the Tenderloin in Ess Eff said it wasn’t looking good for the boys and pointed me in the direction of a crack dealer hanging out on
Texas-West Virginia Pregame
West Virginia is a pretty good lookin’ mountain mama coming to Austin after some of those dogs hightailed it out of the conference. Nice to have her in town but it could get pretty wild in the back seat of the Ford while the offenses bang away at each other and the no-defenses allow all that easy scoring. Let’s hope the Horns’ “rubber” defense works, blocks some penetration. Geno’s a wild man, and I do think the Miners are gonna show up. Brace yourselves and let’s have a fun ride.
PS: I do think John Denver was a very fine musician.
Texas-Oklahoma State Pre-Game
Well, the Horns are hitting the trail across the Red River, on up to Stillwater, where the boomers started it all by shoving the Native Americans aside. The place was God forsaken and unpopulated until they decided to clear some brush weed for a university and there you have it, good ‘ol OSU and T.Boone’s money. Now a Jordanian friend, a fellow “hasher” of the Hashemite Hash House Harriers (a “drinking club with a running problem”) told me yesterday at a poolside party at the Aussie Embassy majestically overlooking the sun baked brown olive-tree laden hills of south Amman that he went to OSU and he said Oklahoma girls were among the finest he’d seen, said he was bug eyed his whole freshman year. Well, we had just done a noonday run in near 100 degree heat before swilling copious amounts of chilled Cooper’s ale that the Oz were serving up but I knew he was telling the truth. Willis Allan Ramsey said northeast Texas women are Texas gold and I reckon the same applies just a few miles north of the border. Must be the still waters. OK, this said, the Horns just need to trample through town like the real longhorns did more than a hunnert years ago, and get the hell out, not even stop for a poke, unless its pokin’ the Cowpokes — we want to see plenty of that.