Reeling Backward: "Bad Day at Black Rock" (1955)

There are no close-ups in "Bad Day at Black Rock," a film that deliberately keeps the characters at arm's length. Close-ups are sustenance to most film actors, who feel like mannequins put through their paces unless they get a chance to scowl and sob and seethe and otherwise use their marvelous faces to their full effect.

I imagine that acting in this film was like being on a forced diet.

"Bad Day" could be best described as a film noir Western. Director John Sturges started as an editor, then directed a lot of B-pictures until he broke into the A-list with this movie. He would go on to make "The Magnificent Seven," "The Great Escape" and "The Old Man and the Sea," among others.

The film has a very painterly quality, wide vistas filling in the backdrop as characters saunter and interact in the foreground. It's filled with bright desert colors, deep blues and browns, except for the main character who is a slab of black, like a null space in the middle of the frame.

Even if you haven't seen "Bad Day" you're probably aware of the premise. A one-armed stranger gets off a train in the middle of nowhere, a collection of a few shanties collectively known as Black Rock. It is the first time the train has stopped here in four years. His presence provokes strong resentment and suspicion among the townsfolk, especially after the newcomer starts poking around asking questions.

He doesn't say very much about himself, only giving his name -- John J. Macreedy -- and inquiring about the whereabouts of a local Japanese-American farmer named Komoko with whom he apparently has some business. The cowboys insist Komoko was interned at the start of World War II, and no one's heard from him since.

As the story takes place it is late 1945, a few months after the war has ended. We eventually learn that Macreedy has just mustered out of the Army, losing the use of his arm in Italy. And that, despite the loss of his limb, he's more than a match for any headstrong cowpunchers. They foolishly take his retiring ways as cowardice.

"I believe a man is as big as what'll make him mad. Nobody around here seems big enough to get you mad," observes Smith (Robert Ryan), a rancher who seems to have everyone quietly under his grip.

Macreedy is played by Spencer Tracy, who didn't particularly want to be in the movie and for people who didn't especially want him in it, either.

Millard Kaufman, who wrote the screenplay from an adaptation by Don McGuire based on a short story by Howard Breslin, thought Tracy was far too old to play an Army platoon commander. Tracy, then in his mid-50s and struggling badly with alcoholism that made him appear much older, had to be cajoled and threatened and finally fooled -- by the assurance that Alan Ladd was ready to step into the role -- before finally committing to play in it.

It's quite obvious that Tracy still has his left arm and is just tucking it into his suit pocket. Interestingly, nobody in the movie actually refers to Macreedy as missing his arm, though every description ever written about the movie contains that description. In one exchange two men opine about the stranger's "stiff arm" and if he's hiding something in his pocket, like booze or TNT.

Coley Trimble, the most antagonistic of the locals played by Ernest Borgnine, does accuse Macreedy of endangering the roads with his "one-armed driving," though that's a quibble as you can drive with one arm despite having two. This after intentionally running Macreedy off the road in the Jeep he had rented from the local gas station, run by the town's only female, Liz Worth (Anne Francis).

When he returns to town, Macreedy is accosted by Coley for his poor driving, and even offers to pay for the damages to the other man's car. It seems that nothing will rile up this odd duck of a stranger.

Except, of course, something eventually does. It appears Macreedy is finally ready to give up on his mysterious mission, gaining the help of the local veterinarian/mortician, Doc Velie (the inimitable Walter Brennan), who offers the stranger the use of his old hearse. In the meantime, Smith has leaned on Liz, so no more Jeep rentals are available.

Hector (Lee Marvin), the most mean-spirited of the cowboys, rips out the distributor cap and spark plug wires, stranding Macreedy. It seems he has asked one question too many and they're planning to off him when night comes.

Little do they know, the unarmed one-armed man in black has them right where he wants them. And now he's find a purpose in life that had been missing.

It would be interesting to see what this movie would look like if it was made today. No doubt it would quickly dissolve into a bloody shoot-em-up or broken bones melee. But other than Macreedy taking out the beefy Coley with some karate chops and flips, there really isn't much violence.

The film wound up turning a healthy profit and earning three Oscar nominations: for Sturges, Tracy and Kaufman.

Even at a quick 81-minute run time, "Bad Day" has an almost languid pace to it as the tension gradually builds and builds. The screenplay drops hints and forebodings, and we're able to figure things out long before the characters speak the words: Komoko was killed and his farm burned to the ground, and the entire town has been keeping this dark secret ever since.

In a way, it's as if all life stopped at Black Rock that day four years earlier, and everyone's just been waiting around for someone like Macreedy to show up. The secret has become their purpose for existence.

Other notable players include Dean Jagger as Tim Horn, the drunken sheriff who has lost all his grit; John Ericson as Pete Wirth, Liz' weakling, pompadoured brother who runs the local hotel; Russell Collins as Hastings, the timid telegraph and train station man; and Walter Sande as Sam, owner of the local diner who delivers one of the film's most remembered exchanges of dialogue in a strangled honk of a voice:

Sam: "What'll you have?"
Macreedy: "What've you got?"

"Chili and beans."
"Anything else?"
"Chili without beans."

"Bad Day at Black Rock" is short on story but long on mood and themes half-buried in the desert dust. It has the feeling of something both ancient and modern, as the last vestiges of the Old West resist an intruder it feels has no business there.

The town is a piece of history, trapped in amber and looking very much the same as it ever did, even though its heart died a long time ago. The ending has a hopeful note, that evil will be punished and Black Rock can start to heal. But my guess is Macreedy's was the last train stop before the tumbleweeds took over.

Video review: "Shazam!"

The DC superhero cinematic universe seems to be perpetually five to eight years behind the Marvel one. That’s when the MCU went into full-on comedy mode with “Guardians of the Galaxy.”

“Shazam!” appears to be the DC reaction, a yuk-it-up aimed squarely at older kids and teens.

It’s basically a remake of “Big,” with the protagonist as a cape-wearing do-gooder instead of a toy company executive. Asher Angel plays Billy Batson, a troubled 14-year-old who stumbles upon an ancient wizard and is granted the powers of Shazam.

When he says that word, he is transformed into a musclebound adult wearing a red-white-and-gold costume, played by Zachary Levi in a (obvious) padded suit. His powers are basically Superman Lite: strength, bullet-proof and flight – though it takes Billy a little longer to figure this last part out. He can even shoot electrical bolts from his hands.

His wingman is Freddy (Jack Dylan Grazer), a smart kid on crutches who knows the superhero shtick better than Billy and tutors him on how to act the part. They quibble over alias names – Red Cyclone and Minster Philadelphia among the offerings –work on becoming YouTube stars, and eventually fight some evil.

Mark Strong plays the villain, Dr. Sivana, who has spent his entire life seeking the power of Shazam only to have it fall into another’s hands. Billy and Freddy, who live in a foster home, later recruit some of their fellow orphans to form a super-team, since that seems to be the thing these days.

Think about it: Marvel launches Iron Man, Captain America and Thor in solo movies, brings them together into groups, then cycles out the veterans and features newbies (Doctor Strange, Black Panther, Spider-Man) in their own flicks, and the cycle repeats. Ditto DC’s Superman, Wonder Woman et al.

I’m not sure if we’ll be seeing Shazam as a member of the Justice League anytime soon. But his goofy quips next to Batman’s nonstop brooding would be interesting.

Video extras are pretty good. There is a gag reel, deleted scenes, an exclusive motion comic and the following documentary shorts:

• The Magical World of Shazam
• Super Fun Zac
• Carnival Scene Study
• Shazamily Values
• Who is Shazam?

Movie:




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Review: "Wild Rose"

"Why country?"
"Because it's three chords and the truth."

Sometimes a movie sets a beautiful table, knocks you out with a first course, and then the rest of the meal just doesn't sing like the early going did.

I liked a lot of things about "Wild Rose." It stars Jessie Buckley, an Irish actress (playing Scottish here) who was mesmerizing in "Beast" and has a had a few parts in things American audiences might have seen, like the HBO miniseries "Chernobyl." She's got a very raw way of acting, as if there is no filter between her emotions and ours.

Buckley is also very interesting to look at, with a wide lioness face that exists somewhere beyond conventional definitions of attractiveness, like a female version of Michael Shannon. You can't take your eyes off her.

The film has a novel premise: a youngish Scottish woman dreams of making it to Nashville and breaking out in the country music business. (Don't you dare call it country-and-western.) She's spent the last 10 years or so eking out a small following at the Grand Ole Opry of Glasgow, which I bet you didn't know was a thing.

Americans are so inundated with the conventional wisdom that everybody hates us we forget that most people in other parts of the world want to be us.

So fellows spitting out nearly indecipherable highland brogue put on embroidered shirts, boots and cowboy hats and boot-scoot it around the saloon in imitation/reverence of the Western ethos.

(Speaking of speaking: I wish the folks distributing this film had gone ahead and provided subtitles. Peoples divided by a common language and all that.)

As the story opens Rose-Lynn Harlan has spent the last year in prison on drug charges. She's eager to get back on stage; the opry management, less so. Her mother (the great Julie Walters) has been watching after her kids, ages 8 and 5 or so. She thinks Rose-Lynn should hang up her dreams of being a professional singer, get to work like she did and focus her energies on her kids.

This conflict forms the central, and really only, dynamic in the story.

Screenwriter Nicole Taylor and director Tom Harper balance these two values, showing the worth of both but also the pitfalls. If Rose-Lynn is to chase her dreams that means taking risks, long absences and leaving her children with others. If she settles into a secure maternal role, she'll be unhappy and hqf3 shown her kids a model of people giving up.

A potential solution presents itself: while working as a maid (the Brits call it "day woman") for a wealthy couple, Rose-Lynn suggests her employer, Susannah (Sophie Okonedo) simply give her the few thousand quid she'd need to get to the States. From her perspective, Susannah is spending all her money on bottled water and other fancy stuff she doesn't really need. That doesn't go over so well, but a bond starts to form.

Rich people have connections: someone knows someone who knows Bob Harris, the legendary BBC broadcaster who likes country music. Maybe an introduction could be made? Or Susannah could recruit her fellow well-heeled sorts for a fundraising concert.

I won't give anything away of where the story ends up, though you can guess early on this is one of those "the journey is more important than the destination" type of tales.

That's well and good, but to sustain our interest the journey has to actually cover some mileage, either geographically or emotionally. This one seems to spin round and round on the same tired track.

The scenes between Buckley and Walters are fearsomely good, until they start repeating themselves. The interactions with the kids similarly find a groove that quickly becomes a rut.

Buckley appears to do her own singing, and she's terrific. She does a good imitation of female country singers, who often mix girly sweetness with big, audacious howls of pain and regret. It's mostly covers, though Rose-Lynn eventually gets around to writing some of her own stuff. Jack Arnold wrote the tunes.

Countless young people have struck out from their homes to pursue their dreams, with the locale depending on what those dreams are: Hollywood, New York, Paris, etc. The sad truth is very few make it. They end up waiting tables or surviving as a background player in other people's spotlight. Or they return home, knowing others will see it as a defeat.

In the end "Wild Rose" is a fairly conventional tale, aside from the exotic setting.

Review: "Stuber"

Since “Stuber” isn’t so much a coherent movie as a collection of (allegedly) comedic elements, let’s do this review in bullets.

• Dave Bautista isn’t funny unless he’s trying not to be funny, a la the deadpan Drax in the “Guardians of the Galaxy” flicks.

• Kumail Nanjiani plays a harried Uber driver… which he also played in his breakout hit, “The Big Sick.” Hopefully this will be his last such role, otherwise he will be the victim of the weirdest typecasting in Hollywood history. “I know, let’s get that rideshare guy!”

• I can only imagine the pitch for this movie: “Let’s do a buddy cop movie where the tough one just had LASIK so he can’t see and the other guy’s a touchy/feely wimp.”

• This isn’t actually how laser eye surgery works. You’re light-sensitive for a while, but can see clearly right after. If you’re functionally blind post-procedure, call an ambulance and a lawyer.

• A prologue scene shows the partner of Vic (Bautista) getting killed due in part to his losing his thick glasses during a fight, hence the LASIK.

• The title comes from the fact Nanjiani’s character is named Stu, and his noxious bro-dude boss (Jimmy Tatro) at his day job at a sporting goods store attaches the Uber appellation to mock him. Stu actually prefers “FIVESTAR,” the license plate on his electric Nissan Leaf. He’s obsessed with maintaining a high star rating from his riders, which doesn’t work out so well.

• Vic crashes his car trying to hunt down the drug dealer, Teijo (Iko Uwais), who killed his partner while doing lots of parkour. Despite being unable to see well enough to work his phone the entire rest of the movie, Vic somehow manages to use it to summon Stu, and then basically kidnaps him for the rest of the way on “official police business.”

• Stu repeatedly mentions that his car is a lease, especially as it gets progressively blasted apart by gunfire and crashes as the movie goes on. This seems unwise, since Uber drivers put a tremendous amount of miles on their cars and leases nearly always include strict mileage riders.

• Stu’s dream is to save up enough money so he can partner up with his friend Becca (Betty Gilpin) on a women-only spin gym to be called “Spinsters,” which is an even worse moniker than Stuber. 

• Stu secretly pines for Becca, and is prevented from hooking up with her by Vic forcing him to ferry him around, beating up criminals and otherwise treating the Bill of Rights like toilet paper.

• Vic is having problems relating to his daughter (Natalie Morales), because he’s always about the job and never there. Clichéd Screenwriting 101 courtesy of Tripper Clancy.

• Bautista is an intriguing physical specimen for the screen. He seems twice as wide as a normal human, could arguably claim to be a member of any race, and has a scant, mangy head of hair that seems to be at least 40% Toppik. He actually looks more normal in the Drax getup.

• While otherwise having the look and feel of a slightly cheeky comedy, the movie is rated “R” for short bursts of violence and peen. 

• Yes, I should’ve said “bullet points” at the beginning of this review, but since it’s a surprisingly bloody shoot-em-up, that was a joke. Not a very good one, I’ll admit. But still funnier than anything in “Stuber.”

Video review: "Little"

If there’s such a thing as “failing upward” in showbiz, then “Little” is it.

Hollywood would seem to be the consummate meritocracy. You make good movies that make money, people will like you and you’ll get to keep doing it. Make three bombs in a row – or, if you’re a female director, just one – and it’s a Hulu series for you.

Marsai Martin was just 10 years old when she pitched the idea of this movie, which is basically a remake of “Big” with Tom Hanks in reverse, to one of the producers on her TV show “Blackish.” Not only is she the star, but now 14 is the youngest executive producer, ever.

She’s an adorable screen presence and, I hope, has a big future. But “Little” is just aggressively bad.

The setup is that Jordan Sanders (Regina Hall) is the head of a tech start-up company, and she’s a steaming pile of rhymes-with-spit. She bullies her employees, treats everyone she meets as the hired help, and even keeps her erstwhile boyfriend (Luke James) in perpetual dangle mode.

One wave of a magic wand later, and Jordan wakes up occupying her 13-year-old body: skinny as a whip, a nimbus of frizzy hair and giant geek glasses. For most people, reliving their adolescence is almost worse than a death sentence.

But thanks to her giant personality and giant-er ego, Jordan crushes the school scene and soon moves on to running her business through the help of April Williams (Issa Rae), her much put-upon right-hand woman. Soon a sisterly vibe starts building, a life lessons shall be learned.

Directed by Tina Gordon from a screenplay she wrote with Tracy Oliver, “Little” takes a scattershot approach – like a musical number that comes out of nowhere – or just falls back on over-the-top tropes. Not to mention the fact little Jordan seems to have all the sexual proclivity of her grownup version, which leads to some downright creepy scenarios, like hitting on her middle-school teacher (Justin Hartley).

I like Hall, Rae and Martin as screen presences, but I’d rather see them do just about anything else but get “Little.”

Review: "Spider-Man: Far from Home"

I have received stern warnings not to hint at the “big reveal” in “Spider-Man: Far from Home,” so I won’t. All I’ll say is that if you can’t see it coming, then you must be new to the movies.

There are a couple more twists that are a bit harder to see, so stick around for the end credits for all the little Easter eggs.

This is the least consequential of all the Marvel Comics Universe (MCU) films. It’s lighthearted and feels like the cousin to that one Harry Potter movie that was more interested in teen snogging than the actual plot. It’s still plenty of fun, but is also fairly forgettable.

Peter Parker (Tom Holland) is on a European “science” trip with his class and only wants to get with MJ (Zendaya), his charmingly acerbic classmate. But then all that tedious superhero stuff keeps pulling him back in.

This takes place after the events from the last two Avengers movies, which if you haven’t seen, thar be spoilers ahead. As you’ll recall, five years passed after half of all life in the universe was disappeared by Thanos, but then was brought back by the heroes. Which means that everyone who “blipped,” as the Earth people now call it, stayed the same age while those who didn’t kept getting older.

The law of averages would indicate there would be some randomness to how many of the main characters blipped, but for the purposes of screenwriters Chris McKenna and Erik Sommers, who obviously wanted to KISS (Google it), everyone in Peter’s social circle blipped, including MJ and best friend/wingman/keeper of secrets Ned (Jacob Batalon).

With Tony Stark dead, Captain America old and Captain Marvel and Thor conveniently off-world again, Earth is looking for a new hero as its beacon. Peter, who’s still just 16 years old, would prefer to remain a modest Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man. But former S.H.I.E.L.D. boss Nick Fury (Samuel L. Jackson) is intent on riding Peter until he relents.

Happy Hogan (Jon Favreau), Tony’s right-hander, acts as go-between while canoodling with Aunt May (Marisa Tomei), much to Peter’s dismay. Happy warns him not to ghost on Fury’s phone calls, without much luck.

(Seriously, try calling a Gen Zer. They consider it a personal affront.)

The job has the look and feel of a classic “we just made it up for this movie” scenario. Beings representing the four elements (fire, water, etc.) are popping up, and if left unchecked could destroy the entire planet. That’s what happened to Quentin Beck, a hero from an alternate universe, and he’s come to this version of Earth to stop the disaster from recurring.

Played by Jake Gyllenhall, Beck wears a cool green-and-gold outfit and has an obscuring mist-filled globe for a helmet, getting dubbed Mysterio by the cool kids. He immediately takes Peter under his wing, adopting the role of kindly uncle in stark contrast to Fury’s hardcase stepdad routine.

Holland is I think the best fit of all the Spider-Man actors, and at 23 is still fresh-faced and high-voiced enough to pass agreeably for a teen. His Peter still likes swinging between buildings and pummeling villains, but also wants his slice of normality. As MJ, Zendaya shines playing “the girlfriend” who’s usually a step ahead of everyone else.

Director Jon Watts returns from 2017’s “Spider-Man: Far from Home,” and I’m reminded that despite this only being the second standalone Spidey movie (of this, the third iteration), he’s been in a total of five MCU films, which practically makes the character middle-aged by recent standards.

This is definitely the “fun ‘n’ games” portion of the milieu, so my guess it’s set to get all dark and dreary next time around. Until then, enjoy this powder-puff stretch for what it is.

Reeling Backward: "The Seven-Ups" (1973)

So what do you do after you've produced two iconic cop movies, both featuring roaring car chases, even winning an Oscar for Best Picture to boot?

If you're Philip D'Antoni, the obvious answer is you do a third, and this time you get behind the wheel.

Alas, "The Seven-Ups," D'Antoni's first and only feature as a director, was not nearly as good or successful as "Bullitt" or "The French Connection." It boasts yet another hard-bitten cop fighting against forces greater than himself, and taking matters into his own hands where the limits of the law end.

It did mark star Roy Scheider's leap into leading-man roles, where he would stay for the next 20 years or so, carving out a respectable career as a character actor with his name above the title. Scheider's great blessing as a thespian was that he never looked like he was trying to impress. There was always something of a mystery about him onscreen, a bit of emotional withholding that left you wanting more.

Real-life New York City detective Sonny Grosso, who was the basis of Gene Hackman's character in "The French Connection," provided the story for screenwriters Albert Ruben and Alexander Jacobs to flesh out. This they did not do. Not only is there no fat in the story, it seems deprived of basic muscle and sinew. When you break out the narrative on paper, there's only about one good "Law & Order" episode's worth of story.

The rest is filled in with long, slow burns leading up to the next round of violence. It's the sort of movie where people spend more time talking about what they're going to do, or preparing for it, than actually doing it.

The setup is that Buddy Mannuci (Scheider) leads the titular four-man special undercover unit, so named for their focus on big-ticket crimes that lead to prison sentences of seven years or more. The old-school "lou" above them doesn't care for their unorthodox methods, but his boss, Inspector Gilson (Rex Everheart), likes the results and wants them to keep coming.

They stumble across a scheme to kidnap mob bosses and loan sharks by men who flash badges, and as a result the Seven-Ups find themselves under suspicion. With the IA investigation set to start on Monday, they have one weekend to pull all the pieces together.

One thing the movie doesn't make clear is if these bad guys actually are cops or not. It would certainly make for a more interesting story if they were, as it would seem unlikely that somebody wouldn't know somebody else.

Buddy has a relationship with a low-level mob guy, Tony (Vito Lucia), with whom he grew up on the same hard streets. Tony feeds him info that leads to busts, though not in an entirely un-self-serving way. I think Buddy's smart enough to know that his old friend is using him to take out the competition, but feels like Tony is one of the "good" bad guys.

Of course, it turns out that Tony is actually running the kidnapping operation, which leads to a big final-scene confrontation.

The other Seven-Ups are Ansel (Ken Kercheval), who ends up being the sacrificial lamb; Mingo (Jerry Leon), a big black guy who likes to chomp on cigars; and Barilli (Victor Arnold), a tense, wiry type who always seems to be eating. None of them are given any sort of characterizations other than what's necessary to move the plot forward.

The kidnappers are a pair of real creeps. Bo (Bill Hickman) looks like a corporate desk man and barely speaks. The real villain is Moon, played by cinematic villain par excellence Richard Lynch.

With his heavy brow and stark blue eyes, Lynch has one of those looks that makes people take a step backward. He also suffered terrible burns as the result of an LSD experience, which gave his face and neck a slightly waxy look.

Interestingly, Moon often wears near-hilarious bright color combinations, including an urban/lumberjack combo for chopping up stuff that had me bursting out loud. I was also surprised during the big chase scene, in which he's the passenger, that Moon often seems quite terrified, flashing wide-eyed gapes as they tear around corners or bounce off rises.

Very different from the icy-veined culprits we're used to.

The chase scene was filmed in the upper part of Manhattan, and while it has a few good squeals it's not nearly as thrilling as "Bullitt," which famously featured a Ford Mustang against a Dodge Challenger. Here both cop and criminal are driving brand-new Pontiacs: a massive Grand Ville for the bad guys to Buddy's sleeker Ventura Custom Sprint coupe.

It was coordinated and edited by the same guys D'Antoni used in his other big chase scenes, and ends with an "homage" to the death of Jayne Mansfield. Since it takes place about midway through the movie, Buddy of course keeps his head.

The film has a fairly blasé regard to police brutality, seeing it as a necessary step against a new generation of malevolent criminals, although Buddy and his crew do more threatening than actual pummeling.

Probably the most famous is where they surprise the key mob boss, Max Kalish (Larry Haines), in his bed and threaten him and his wife into giving over information on the kidnappers. Another mobster who has been shot by Moon is interrogated in the hospital by Buddy, who removes his oxygen feed to get him to spill.

Joe Spinell plays Toredano, a garage attendant who works with the kidnappers and is interrogated at the police station by the Seven-Ups. Refusing to help, he shows the cops his battered hands, indicating he's been worked over by their like before. "I didn't talk then, and I'm not talking now."

Immediately recognizing the futility of administering a beating, Buddy lets the guy walk and puts word out through Tony that they'll be visiting Toredano at home to get what they need out of him. Of course, this sets the bait for a final showdown with Moon and Bo.

Like the rest of the movie, it has a lot less flash and energy than you might have hoped. Moon is a classic kiss-up-and-kick-down type, preferring to run and hide as soon as some genuine opposition shows its face. He cowers inside an abandoned van until Buddy comes along. We get the sense he's less lying in wait than simply hiding and hoping his hunter will pass by.

Though it's long on grit and mood, "The Seven-Ups" is but a pale shadow of D'Antoni's earlier efforts. After this he would give up on film and turn to television, where he had some success before leaving showbiz in the late 1970s.

Though he couldn't bring the trifecta, D'Antoni still deserves a place of respect for helping steer two great films.