1986: The Year that Charlie Sheen Had Moral Integrity and...Wait, What?

You heard me. As we go farther back into time Tom Cruise gets more talent, Charlie Sheen gets less douchey, and William Hurt...well he stays bad it seems. When I was a kid we went to these caverns where they had this "ghost" stalactite (or stalagmite, yes I do know which is which but I forget whether this was on the ceiling or the ground) that was pale white and kept popping up throughout the tour. You'd be walking along, enjoying the tour and then WHAM! there it was again. And you thought: "oh sweet! That thing is pretty cool." William Hurt is like that, except he's not cool. Or interesting. He keeps popping up on my escapade and all I can think is: "what moronic casting director thought this man was talented?" Ah well, we'll discuss it later.

Nope. Let's discuss it now. The alphabet demands it, because this year's first offering is Children of a Lesser God. Pretty epic title, right? It conjures up images of feuding demi-gods vying for the affection of their parent, a less-powerful-but-still-well-known god of Greek mythology (like Demeter or Dionysus or someone). Well, it's actually about a dude trying to teach deaf kids how to communicate. Still an epic title though, right? Because it implies the film will carry questions such as, "why are these kids not blessed with hearing? Are they cursed by lineage or is it all just a cosmic joke of nature?" Well, let me clarify: it's actually actually about a dude trying to put the moves on a deaf girl whilst teaching deaf kids to speak. If Chris Nolan had been directing back then, maybe the things I mentioned would've come into play. Instead, we've got yet another freaking romantic drama with the real world's very own child of a lesser god: William Hurt. It starts off as a touching story about a man who finds a way to get through to kids that no one else could communicate with. But it becomes a story about a man who says, in sign language, "hey! You're pretty hot, can I take you out sometime?" To which she responds, "hey! I have issues because I'm deaf. Let's have sex just so I can yell at you because you're not deaf and then we'll have more sex and then we'll split up only to get back together about fifteen minutes later." I'd like to tell you that I'm being obtuse by putting it that way, but my way is probably more entertaining than the movie as a whole (and mercifully shorter). Now, I won't say that I didn't find their romance to be sweet on some level. Because I did. And I won't say that I didn't find the dialogue between them to be interesting and well-acted. Because I did, at least when it was being conveyed by Marlee Matlin. But that's the problem: I'd have much rather had subtitles for her sign language than constant interpretation by William Hurt. I know that sounds rather dumb, and feasibly insensitive (it's tough for me to tell because I spend almost no time worrying about being sensitive to such things). But here's why: her performance is very good, and maybe even deserving of the Oscar she received for it, but when WH translates it in his drawling and boring voice it just becomes annoying. First off, it would make no logical sense for him to be translating her if it were in real life. Secondly, it almost belittles her character and the performance by making it so that we can only understand her through him. And by "almost" I mean "certainly." Right then, let's go back to when I said "it's not that I didn't like (yadda yadda) because I did." I rambled more than I meant to and thus lost my segue, what I was going to say was: "but they spend so much time on the monotony of the back-and-forth canned drama of the romance that both stories lose their effect." On TV, and in films too I suppose, you've got the "A" story and the "B" story. The story with the kids should've been the A story. Then the romance wouldn't have gotten stale, and we would've been able to appreciate WH's character for the good work he was doing instead of constantly seeing him through the lens of "stop wishing I was a hearing person!" So to sum it up: I've seen worse movies, but this feels like another Prince of Tides job to me. And by that I mean: a movie where the studio decided to kill the good part of the story in favor of some box office mojo. I could be completely and utterly wrong about that, but I hope not.

A nice aspect of moving backwards through the Oscars is that I'll be able to enjoy some Woody Allen films, starting with Hannah and Her Sisters. Even though it's the last of his films to be nominated, I'm glad it was the first one I watched because it honestly wasn't a great way for him to bow out of Oscar history. It's an enjoyable film, but only in part. Much like the movie I just rambled about, there's a distinct A and B story and only one of them is good. Thankfully, the time they're allotted is much closer to being equal. One focuses on Michael Caine being a philandering douche (the not good story) and the other focuses on Woody Allen being classic Woody Allen (the awesome story). This dynamic led me to experience what I like to call "The Kim Bauer phenomenon." This is based on the infamous Kim Bauer character from 24. She was known for getting into increasingly-stupid situations on the show until she was finally written out. So the reason she gets one of my phenomenons named after her is that whenever I watched the show and her plotline would start up, I'd pretty much just sit through it and wait for the good stuff to return (like Jack threatening to shove towels down people's throats). That's how I felt here: everytime it'd come back to Michael Caine I pretty much just wasted time on my iPhone, half paying attention, until Woody Allen returned. The film's title refers to the story's three sisters, all of whom are truthfully kinda sketchy. MC is married to one of them and in love with another one. WA divorced one of them and had a horrible date with another one, but decided to rekindle things with the second one eventually. For Woody's storyline, it's very entertaining because he's a hypochondriac and he has misadventures with women and we can enjoy all of these things because of his neurotic delivery. If bad things happen to him: it's funny. Because they happen to him, as though by fate. Whereas when things blow up in Michael's face, I just thought to myself: "wow, you're a jerk. You kinda deserved that one." While this creates an interesting juxtaposition between the two, you're still left with the fact that annoyance by design is still annoying. This was the first Woody Allen film that I've seen the whole way through, but given what I've heard about him I'll probably enjoy all of his films. Because he's a kindred spirit to myself, as is Larry David. We're all dudes trying to be nice but who somehow get crapped on all the time or who end up in ridiculous situations beyond our control. Which is why I'm penning my own movie that's not-so-loosely based on my own life. Look for it in theaters sometime this half-century.

Right then, after all that self-promotion let's humble ourselves (or attempt to) with what my friend Erik would call a "pretty religious flick." When he said that, he was talking about The Boondock Saints (which is why it was funny) but he'd be more accurate by saying it about this film: The Mission. This was one of the select few films on the escapade that I had actually seen before but that I decided to rewatch for a specific reason. In this case, it's because I saw it in 10th grade when I was far more interested in people in movies getting shot than I was in artistry. I still enjoy lots of shooting and stabbing though (of course) but nowadays there needs to be something substantive behind it. Which makes it tough to enjoy some stuff I used to like, sadly. But it also adds an unusual amount of awesome to movies like The Matrix (believe it or not). Anyway, this film is about the spread of Christianity in South America. It's a beautifully-filmed movie with wonderful music and solid acting. I enjoyed and was moved by most of it, but I must say: the ending upset me as a shootout-happy 10th grader and it still upset me this time around. Because through the whole movie you have this interesting relationship between Robert DeNiro and Jeremy Irons, wherein DeNiro is the reformed mercenary and Irons is the compassionate missionary. DeNiro is the more interesting of the two because his character actually gets a journey: from crazed mercenary to reformed man of God. The movie keeps it realistic though, because even though he's come around to the brighter side of things, he's still a bit of a cynic/pragmatist at heart. The relationship reminded me a bit of the "man of science, man of faith" dynamic between Jack and Locke on Lost (although that obviously wasn't around for another 20 years almost). Basically anytime that there are two conflicting philosophies that manifest themselves as characters: I like it. BUT, I don't think they totally pulled it off here. Because DeNiro essentially ends up reverting back to his former line of thinking (in a sense) by leading an attack against the incoming British soldiers (who are looking to destroy the mission for reasons largely lost on me, but they were probably the usual "big bad empire" type things). And Irons decides to stay with his philosophy of non-violence, even going so far as to offer the epitomizing line: "If might is right, then love has no place in the world. It may be so, it may be so. But I don't have the strength to live in a world like that, Rodrigo." As a side note: "epitomizing line" is another one of my fabricated phrases that I use to mean: "a single line that sums up a character perfectly." All of this is well and good but both guys end up dead in the end, along with all of the native people (women and children alike). So there were a few directions they could've gone with this that would've been better: they could've had Irons and DeNiro switch philosophical positions much in the way Jack became the man of faith and Locke became the man of science (or at least lost his faith). That would've made it an interesting character study. Or they could've landed with one philosophy or the other by A) having DeNiro succeed in his attack and show that sometimes pragmatism is the way to go or B) having a cheesy-but-effective scene wherein the emotional church service that Irons leads amidst the attack actually touches the heart of the British general and prevents him from firing. Instead we're left with everyone dying, and maybe they wanted to leave these questions ambiguous, I really don't know. But either way it left a bad taste in my mouth in 10th grade and it did so again a few weeks ago. That being said, up until the end it's a very good movie and the musical score is hauntingly beautiful.

And on that note, let's get dark with this junk. I don't have the strength to deal with two nemeses at once. See like, Batman can fight the Joker and he can fight the Riddler. But if they collaborated it'd be a nightmare because J is an unpredictable psycho and R is a methodical narcissist. Well, I'm knee-deep in my fight against William Hurt and what should rear its ugly head? The British period piece. My old enemy lives again, and I wasn't prepared. This time it's in the form of A Room With a View. I'll be honest with you, I hardly even attempted to watch this movie. Because if the period pieces with Anthony Hopkins were bad enough, the ones without him must really suck. And at least Emma Thompson is moderately attractive but this film stars Helena Bonham-Carter, a woman who has logically made a career out of playing witches and women who bake people into pies. And her love interest is Daniel Day-Lewis. Now, I love that dude. But he didn't have much to do here. I also kept thinking to myself that maybe their future pieces of work would collide and he'd start to say, "my spoon reaches across the room and into your meat pie and I. Eat. Youuuuuuuur Meat Pie. I eat it up!" That would've been freaking awesome, even though it would only be possible in my mind or on Star Trek. So then, what is this movie about? Some girl who wants to marry some dude but she can't because society says she can't. WHO FREAKING CARES. That's what literally all of these movies are about, and all I want to say during them is: "if you British folk are so ashamed of your uppity past then maybe you should move on and make movies about other stuff." Much like I mentioned before: they used to run the world and now they don't. We get it. They used to be slave-trading, sexist, imperialist jerks. We get it. That's why we tossed the tea overboard, you don't need to keep apologizing by making crap movies that go on entirely too long. And there must be more than just five British actors, but you wouldn't know it since the same few people show up in all of these movies. Maggie Smith? Check. Judi Dench? Check. Hugh Grant? Sadly not check, he was probably my age back then. Point being: I'm not a spoiler type dude so I never look far ahead into what the escapade holds for me, but this better be the dying breath of this genre. Because 1985 has more William Hurt and I'm weary.

And "weary" is the unintentionally-perfect word to describe this year's winner: Platoon. I usually complain about Oliver Stone all over the place, I'm sure you've noticed. Well, this is the Vietnam movie that he did correctly. He just tells a story and lets you draw your own conclusions instead of having Tom Cruise ride around on his wheel-clad soapbox for several hours (that was mean). This film also centers on conflicting philosophies, there's Tom Berenger who is the man who has kind of lost his mind in Vietnam and takes the violence too far sometimes. Then there's Willem Dafoe, who is a bit more compassionate, especially as pertaining to the intentional killing of an innocent at one point in the movie. This leads to a rift in the platoon and people start picking sides. Charlie Sheen plays the everyman in this movie, the dude who is kind of stuck in the middle. He represents the hundreds of thousands of soldiers who had to live through Vietnam (or die through it) while people like Berenger and Dafoe bickered about how to run things. Because even though Berenger is obviously the villain, the underlying point is that Vietnam's problem was lack of solidarity with regards to planning. You're either all in or you're not in at all. Being "kinda in" gets you nowhere. But none of this is shoved in your face exactly, you figure it out as you watch it. Or even if you don't, it's a highly-atmospheric movie that depicts the jungles of Vietnam as a frightening and Hellish landscape. You can watch it and simply appreciate it on the level of filmmaking. There are some well-done battle scenes as well as some stirring and emotional vignettes. It depicts Vietnam about as accurately as any of the movies I've seen. Although it's not my favorite Vietnam movie (which I will get the opportunity to discuss a few blog posts down the road) it's probably the most realistic. Because it's also the only one that takes place entirely in the jungle. It starts there and ends there without flashbacks, prologues, or codas. Past lives don't matter, future lives don't either. It's just the soldiers and the jungle. And that's what makes it so good because the jungle was the only reality that the soldiers had, and only within that mindset can we even begin to understand the frame of reference from which they were forced to make every decision. The term "gray area" doesn't even begin to cover it. Although, like I said, Berenger is definitely the bad guy and it feels really good when Charlie machine guns him to death. That's right: as my title implies, Charlie was the good guy here. Heidi Fleiss must've really warped that dude's brain.

Well this year was pretty good, as far as the 80s go. I've been writing this during a tough-to-sit-through 1985 offering, so I'm not sure how well the next year will turn out. There's more WH, and hopefully I'll think of something funny that those two letters can stand for instead by then. But until that time comes, all I know is that the next year will include a National Geographic/chick flick lovechild, a Spielberg movie with music not by John Williams (what's the point?), and Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Mennonite Mamacita.