Archive for The Driver

Prisoner and Escort

Posted in FILM with tags , , , , , , , , on May 19, 2021 by dcairns

RIP Charles Grodin. When I found out Fiona hadn’t seen MIDNIGHT RUN, didn’t know what it WAS, we had to watch that, even though we don’t often do screenings of people who have just died. We’re more random.

I was struck by how this one has a perfect clip for the TCM Remembers and Oscars In Memoriam sections. But more important, it’s perfect in the film itself. George Gallo’s screenplay is very, very good.

It’s almost a variant on Raymond Chandler’s instructions for writing pulp fiction: “Whenever you get stuck, have a guy come through a door with a gun. (This could get pretty silly.)” Here, this being a road movie, the guy might drive up, and is generally more likely to emerge from a landscape. But the writer has given himself just the right number of things to play with: apart from our fugitive heroes Grodin and DeNiro, he has a rival bounty hunter, the mob and the FBI. That turns out to be just enough elements so that he can always surprise us with who turns up. The story is practically made of surprise entrances, including one borrowed, I think, from THE DRIVER, where suddenly a space is crowded with feds who weren’t there an instant ago and have somehow apported silently into position without the alert protagonist noticing them. So —

RIP Yaphet Kotto also. This was, shockingly, the last film I saw him in. I friended him on Facebook (or at least I think it was him) where he mostly talked about his UFO abduction.

Grodin, of course, is terrific. The film is really skillfully edited, too, so Grodin gets big laughs just with reaction shots. Comparing this to ELEVEN HARROWHOUSE, I’d argue that he was the great master of rupturing car chases with character moments. In the middle of 11H’s climax his voiceover comments flatly on the country estate where the life-and-death developments are occurring. “It was never a fun place. Oh, they had a pool and everything, but it was never fun.”

I suspect director Martin Brest had a camera on each of his stars all the time, so he wouldn’t miss any magic moments.

Since I like Gallo’s plotting and character stuff so much, it’s a shame I can’t watch BAD BOYS thanks to Michael Bay’s meaningless stylistic jerkery getting between me and the people.

Shorter’s Better

Posted in FILM, literature with tags , , , , , , on March 9, 2020 by dcairns

There’s a spoiler for THE DRIVER just past the next picture.

I remember being impressed by the text at the start of THE GREY FOX which tells us that the titular Old West bank robber was credited with inventing the term, “Hands up.” And realizing that he’d come up with a snappy and effective way of saying what he wanted, at gunpoint. “Put your hands up,” takes too long.

OK, in WHEN THE DALTONS RODE has them saying “Reach!” but that only works if the customer has heard the expression “Reach for the sky!” otherwise they could be thinking “Reach for what?” and then you’d have to shoot them. Worse, they might reach for the wrong thing, and shoot YOU.

So it was fun to read in Bruce Dern’s memoir, Things I’ve Said and Probably Shouldn’t, that when tasked with saying the line, “You’re under arrest,” at the end of Walter Hill’s THE DRIVER, he remarked to his director, “OK, but shorter’s better.”

“What do you mean?”

“Shorter’s better.”

“Just say the fucking line, OK? ACTION!”

Dern, flanked by a great many cops, has Ryan O’Neil surrounded.

“Gotcha.”

Hill called “Cut!” and the crew applauded.

Then Hill said, in effect, Okay, smartass, but since this film is going to say Screenplay by Walter Hill, not Screenplay by Walter Hill with Additional Dialogue by Bruce Dern, do it again and this time say the fucking line as written. So he did.

I told this story to a few people and they all said, “Which version’s in the film?” And I couldn’t remember.

So I bought it secondhand for like 50p.

It’s “Gotcha.”

No wonder Bruce looks kinda smug.

Slow Talk & Fast Driving

Posted in FILM with tags , , , , , , , , , , , on June 26, 2015 by dcairns

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I’d never seen THE DRIVER but was just coming around to the idea of Walter Hill, after appreciating HARD TIMES, but I couldn’t quite get along with this one. If Bruce Dern is so wired — as he clearly is — why is he talking so slow? And if Ryan O’Neal is such a tough guy, why does he look like a scared little boy except when he puts his sunglasses on? I guess that’s physiognomy rather than performance, essence rather than attitude.

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The idea of making a self-consciously Melvillean, existential crime thriller (none of the characters have names) is ambitious, but even Melville sometimes had trouble carrying off the weighty approach to crime drama, and I think pulp dialogue sounds better fast, and you need the right actors. All the leads here are slightly off, and Ronee Blakely just can’t do the role. Hill reportedly wrote all-male scripts whenever possible, and then just gender-switched one or two without changing the dialogue — this worked for his rewrite of ALIEN, and it could have worked here, but Blakely is too warm to play a Melvillean professional. She can never be all business.

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I was amused by the Hollywood conceit that a getaway driver would have an agent who sets up his jobs — maybe it’s even true. Nothing felt particularly authentic, though, it felt like other movies. Which is fine, but Melville at his best seems to be about something more than movies — probably what he’s about is his Resistance experience, which is why ARMY OF SHADOWS is so much deeper than LE SAMURAI, as stylish and impressive as that film is.

This isn’t as silly as DRIVE, at least, a movie which was equally slick and equally self-serious. But characters keep doing daft things — sometimes these things work for them, implausibly, which doesn’t make it OK. As with HEAT, I get frustrated when a movie deals with characters who are supposed to be incredible professionals, experts in their field, and they keep doing silly things.

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The stunts are good. I think, in fairness, the experience suffered a lot by the print having faded — it was pinkish, with milky blacks, a fatal condition for a movie seemingly based on crunchy shadows and neon and flourescent greens.

THE WARRIORS, by contrast, screened on DCP and looked great. A great 35mm print would have been even better (as with THE JERICHO MILE and SALEM’S LOT) but the vibrancy of the images was nothing to sneeze at. You did need a hankie, though, because the performances and dialogue were sneeze-worthy much of the time.

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The Lambada Meinhoff Gang.

“A film for 14-year-old boys,” was Fiona’s not unsympathetic verdict. The plot — a complete fantasy of street life crossbred with Xenophon’s Anabasis, is all engine, with characterisation something snatched up randomly on the way. Women are present as potential rape victims (something Hill has the taste to avoid showing overtly). This nonsense was taken seriously in both the US and UK as something which might INSPIRE CRIME — and it does make hitting somebody with a bat look enjoyable and rewarding, so I guess for the very dumb it could be problematic. I would still blame the actual person with the actual bat, though, rather than the patterns of light on a screen and the sounds emanating from speakers.

“I wasn’t expecting it to be so camp,” Fiona also observed. Hill, apparently unaware of every possible signifier of homoeroticism, has made a flamboyantly queer odyssey, with costumes, performances and dialogue all reinforcing the man-on-man vibe. While the characters frequently repudiate each other for “turning faggot,” all their threats, insults and figures of speech revolve around sodomy, including a memorable offer to shove a baseball bat up a man’s rectum to transform him into a popsicle. Nice.

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The Badder Mime-Hoff Gang.

The lead gang has a nice interracial mix, in defiance of all realism, though most of the rest are ethnically divided. We particularly liked the tough mime gang (silent but deadly) and the guys clad in dungarees with a roller skating scout. The gangs all have names like “the Riffs” and “the Electric Eliminators.” There are a LOT of gangs. I speculate that some of the other names include ~

The Sobbing Godfreys. The Jewish Mothers. The Piccolos. The Munchers. The Traveling Wilburys. The Bathmats. The Venerable Scones. The Black Krankies. The Goofies. The Laughing Pepperpots. The Pummelers. The Hairy Fauves. The Munchkins. The Astral Tucans. The Coughdrops. The Corrs. The Knights of The Iguana. The Erik Estrada All-Stars. The Gardeners. The Joysticks. The Joss Sticks. The Joss Acklands. The Emotional Cosmetologists. The Bunsen-Honeydews. The Windolenes. The Avaricious Pandas. The Nasty Boys. The Sweaty Poppinjays. The Miami Dolphins. The Shrove Tuesdays. The Gelfs. The Muffintops. The Wheedlers. The Men of Harlech. The Pooh Sticks. The Roaring Calhouns. The Toffee Apples. The Bodysnatchers. The Bandersnatches. The Cumberbatches.

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The Ho Chi Min-Hoff Gang.

In both movies, Hill has a cut revealing that twenty-to-a-hundred extras have entered the scene with malicious intent without being notices, in a few seconds while a character’s back was turned. In neither film does this work, exactly. Although it gets a laugh, so maybe…

I was pondering Hill’s weakness for wipes, and remembered that Kurosawa had a weakness for wipes too (but he grew out of it). The end of THE WARRIORS follows the end of YOJIMBO rather closely. Poor YOJIMBO, hasn’t it been plundered enough? (Apparently not: Hill was still to make LAST MAN STANDING.)

STOP PRESS — after these enjoyable follies, we ran into THE LONG RIDERS, and THAT one is seriously excellent. More on it later.