Hopscotch

When I think of spy movies, I'll be honest with you...spying isn't the first thing that comes to mind.  Instead, I imagine lots of action, witty banter, and beautiful (but dangerous) women.  Basically, I think of James Bond.  There are movies that actually deal with the whole spying part of being a spy, but they're relatively rare and usually pretty dramatic.  Hopscotch, aside from being a pretty horrible title for anything, especially a spy movie, is unusual because it is a spy movie about spies doing their spy stuff, but has almost no gunplay, little excitement, and isn't very dramatic.  In its defense, though, I don't think I want to see Walter Matthau as a James Bond-ish character.

Miles Kendig (Walter Matthau) is one of the best field agents the CIA has in the Cold War.  He's not particularly daring or dangerous (he doesn't even carry a weapon), but he's smart and uses logic and his wits to win the day.  On a mission in Munich, Kendig manages to foil a microfilm exchange, preventing it from entering Communist East Berlin.  Since he's unarmed, how does he foil anything?  Well, this time, he waits for the exchange and photographs the entire act, intercepts the Soviet agent, Yaskov (Herbert Lom), and threatens to publish the photos and embarrass/expose Yaskov.  The Russian follows the logic and hands the film over, with no blood spilled.  When Kendig arrvives back in Washington, his loud-mouthed, bureaucratic boss, Myerson (Ned Beatty), blows a gasket.  How could Kendig not kill, or at least apprehend, Yaskov?  Kendig gives him the old "devil you know" argument (which, from my readings, seems to be about right for the Cold War in Europe), but Myerson will have none of it.  He takes Kendig out of the field and assigns him to file clerk duty, presumably for the rest of his career.

What a downer ending.  Oh, wait...we're only about ten minutes into the film.  Instead of going meekly into the filing world, Kendig opts to quit the CIA and publish his memoirs, airing out the dirty laundry of both the CIA and the KGB.  That would be dangerous under normal circumstances, but Kendig also decides to mail each chapter of the book, as he writes them, to all the major intelligence agencies in the world.  Myerson has two choices; he can either admit that Kendig has made a fool out of him, or have him killed.  He opts for the latter.  So, Kendig is just goofing around, publishing his book little by little and having fun outwitting his fellow spies, but their intentions are deadly serious.  There's only one way this can end, you know.

Because I know how the notion of Walter Matthau as a sexy spy gets you in the mood.

Hopscotch is based on the book of the same name by Brian Garfield, the author of Death Wish.  Apparently, this Garfield can offer variety.  Too bad the cat can't say the same.  I like the story just fine, but it's not quite of any particular genre.  It's not nearly serious enough to be a drama, but it's barely smirk-worthy, so it's not a comedy.  The plot could make a great thriller, but it's not thrilling at all.  What is this movie?  It's like a lighthearted version of Spy Game, or even Three Days of the Condor.  It's breezy in tone, but (almost) never silly or frivolous.  It's just an odd duck.

If Hopscotch was an animal, it would be a confusing one.

The acting in the film is fine, but most of the cast underperforms, due to the script.  I will admit that it was nice to see a fairly young-looking Sam Waterston in this movie; he plays Kendig's protege, who is tasked with outwitting his mentor.  He doesn't actually do a whole lot, but it was interesting seeing him outside of a Law and Order setting again.  Two-time Academy Award winner and current British politician (almost twenty straight years in Parliament!) Glenda Jackson plays Matthau's love interest and, as always, I find it hard to believe it when any actress feigns attraction to Matthau; I will admit that their romance, at the very least, is age-appropriate.  Jackson does a pretty good job parrying Matthau's wordplay, but she is capable of a lot more.  Ned Beatty does a good job being unlikable in this movie; he, too, can play much more interesting characters, but he plays the one note that he's given pretty well.  I thought Herbert Lom was the only supporting character that did an all-around good job; I've always liked the idea of enemy spies being friends, and I thought Lom pulled it off quite convincingly.

The success or failure of the movie, though, depends entirely on Walter Matthau.  The supporting actors didn't have much to work with.  Director Ronald Neame shows absolutely no intention of adding suspense or action to the film.  So, it's up to Walter.  And I was surprised at how appealing I found him.  This isn't a game-changing role for Matthau; he plays a smart guy, but his general attitude is about the same here as it is in so many of his movies.  His portrayal of Kendig isn't very funny, but he does convey a sense of mischief, and that was pretty endearing.  If I was going to judge the film on his character alone, I would say that this is a pretty enjoyable film.

Unfortunately, there is more to the movie than Matthau.  He prevents it from being a bad movie, but the screenplay itself is inadequate and I don't think it could have ever been good.  Still, Matthau is definitely likable throughout the movie, and the rest of the cast play their parts well.  It's not a great movie, it's not a bad movie, it's just...meaningless fluff.

And, for your enjoyment, here is Walter Matthau absolutely not being offensive.

Toy Story 3

I really don't know why I put off seeing Pixar movies all the time.  I have enjoyed every one I've seen, and they have made some of my absolute favorite animated movies of all time.  When Toy Story 3 was released, I decided I was going to definitely see it in the theaters.  I didn't.  When it was released on DVD, I decided to pick it up (with a coupon from Disney's website) on Day 1.  I think I ended up watching it around Day 110.  Maybe I just have to be in the right mood to watch a kid's movie.  Maybe I heard everybody saying "It was so good, but so sad...!"  Whatever my reasons for waiting, I have finally seen Toy Story 3.  I shouldn't have waited so long.

If you're unfamiliar with the Toy Story series, here's a brief summary.  Your toys are alive.  You might not notice it, but when you're not looking, all the toys in your home move around on their own, talk, play games, and live their own mini-dramas.  The human in Toy Story is Andy.  We watch his toys come to life.  And now you're caught up.

Toy Story 3 picks up several years after Toy Story 2 ended, with the characters having aged in real-time.  Woody (Tom Hanks), Buzz Lightyear (Tim Allen), and their friends still belong to Andy (John Morris, the same kid from the first two movies), but Andy is seventeen now.  He's getting ready for college, and hasn't played with his toys in years.  When it comes time to pack for school, the toys fear that they will be thrown away or donated to a day care center, like so many of their fellow toys have been in the past few years.  After being pressured by his mom to pack up or throw out his belongings, Andy finally decides what to do with his toys.  He packs Woody in a box that is going to college with him and tosses the others in a trash bag; Andy intends to place the bag in the attic, but the bag is accidentally thrown away instead.  The toys are taken to the dump, and the next two hours is filled with the sound of Don Rickles crying.

A much better Oscar promo than I would have expected from Disney.

Actually, no.  The toys escape the trash bag, find a box heading to the daycare center, and hop in.  Woody tries to convince them that they actually belong in the attic, but nobody is listening.  They feel rejected, and they want to be played with (the innocent kind), so that is where they want to go.  Woody argues that they all belong to Andy, and need to be there for him, in whatever capacity he needs.  While they are arguing, the box is packed up and taken to the day care center, with Woody and the gang inside.  Once there, they are met with an enthusiastic welcome from the day care toys, led by Lots-O'-Huggin' Bear (Ned Beatty).  Day care seems absolutely perfect; there are no owners to tire of the toys and throw them away --- when the kids grow up, new kids come in.  They are guaranteed hours of play time in the day, and hours of unsupervised night time.  It's the perfect life for a toy, right?  But what about Andy?  Aren't they still his toys?  Is it more important for the toys to be with Andy or each other?  What should happen to old toys when their owners grow up?  And why are the day care toys hiding from the incoming toddlers?

It must suck to own shirts that are more awesome than your tattoos

There are a ton of characters in this film, and many of them are voiced by recognizable actors.  Of course, there is the core duo of Tom Hanks and Tim Allen, for starters.  As usual, they bear much of the narrative load, and Hanks once again handles most of the drama.  And, once again, they do great jobs.  Joan Cusak and Ned Beatty have the next biggest roles, as the cowgirl Jessie and Lots-O', respectively; I thought Cusak was fine, but Beatty did a very good job playing both sides of his character.  The rest of the cast included Don Rickles, Estelle Harris, John Ratzenberger, Michael Keaton, Whoopi Goldberg, Timothy Dalton, Bonnie Hunt, R. Lee Ermey, as well as the voices of some of the animators.  The voice acting was very good, but it was missing a staple of animated movies.  Where was the obvious comic relief?  Aside from Spanish Buzz, I can't think of any character that didn't have depth, and that shows how different Toy Story 3 is from just about every other animated movie out there.  This isn't a cartoon that is showing off how goofy a comedian can sound (sorry, Robin Williams); this is an ensemble piece that has well-known actors playing smaller parts for the greater good.

Pixar tends to rotate its directors around on every project.  Someone who is a supervising editor on one movie may co-direct the next,and do a little bit of editing on the next; basically, if you watch enough Pixar movies, you're going to see the same names popping up over and over.  This is Lee Unkrich's first solo outing as a director (and only the third solo director credit on any Pixar movie) after three successful co-directing runs, and he has a story credit, too.  This is Michael Arndt's second screenplay, and his second Academy Award-nominated screenplay.  Despite the cast of thousands, this is a very personal film, and I believe that having only one screenwriter and one director (both anomalies with animated films) contributed greatly to that.  I thought both the screenwriting and the direction were excellent and the two are responsible for the intimacy and heartfelt effect this movie has on viewers.

You can't pinpoint the source of this film's greatness quite so easily, though.  Yes, the cast did a great job with their voice-over work.  Yes, the story is complex enough for adults and fun enough for kids.  And, yes, the themes of growing up, moving on, and sweet sadness are universal ones that everyone knows (or will soon).  But I think the overwhelming reason Toy Story 3 is so good is its imagination.  Playtime for the toys is seen as a big-budget adventure movie, just like it is in a child's imagination.  The scale of the movie feels so natural and the way the toys navigate around obstacles like locked doors makes sense, and yet you could spend a compelling twenty minutes having the characters figure these problems out.  Toy Story 3 doesn't bother with the small stuff because it has a much wider lens than that.  This is a movie that goes from "horror" of the sandbox to some legitimately scary scenes at the dump.  It doesn't settle for trite morals, like "girls are people, too" (Monsters vs. Aliens) or "be yourself" (Shrek).  Instead, it paints a picture that hits deeper, rings truer, and feels astoundingly real.

Honestly, I wasn't prepared for this film.  I enjoy animated movies, but they usually don't blow me away, and the more I think about it, the more I am impressed by this film.  I would liken Toy Story 3 to Alan Moore's Watchmen; both stories are told in mediums where you think you know what to expect, but both go well beyond the boundaries of what would normally be considered a kid's movie or a comic book.  And the best part of all of this is also the most important: it works as a kid's movie.  A really, really good kid's movie.  What a brilliant idea.

White Lightning

Now THAT is a movie poster!  It's got it all: guns, fire, a car chase, a woman, jugs of green liquid the size of a man, flying through the air.  I also love the inset picture of Burt Reynolds; it's like the producers saw the movie poster and asked, "But which one is Burt Reynolds?" and they picked out a picture from Tiger Beat.  I am confused by the tag line "White Lightning: Take a Bite and Feel All Right!"  Take a bite of what?  White lightning?  Burt Reynolds?  The green jug?  That just sounds like a rap lyric (judging from the skill of the rhyme, I would have to guess Young MC --- he has more rhymes than the whole damn zoo) more than a line that would actually fit this poster.  However, the other tag line, at the top of the poster, is awesome.  "White lightning never strikes twice --- 'cause once is enough!"  That makes it sound like Burt Reynolds plays White Lightning, a race car driver or something.  Or, it may be a subtle racist jab.  Sure, white lightning can do the job, done in one, but what about black, brown or yellow lightning?  Is this poster implying some sort of superiority based on the color of lightning?  Or maybe "White Lightning" is the title song in this, an Aryan Nation update of Grease!  Ah, the joys of accusing something of unintentional racism...good times.  Side note: kids, racism is bad and stupid. 

Actually, White Lightning refers to moonshine, the illegal homemade liquor that can be delicious and/or used to thin paint.  Our boy Gator (Burt Reynolds) is in the Arkansas (I knew this movie was racist!) pokey, doing time for running moonshine.  He gets word that his brother just died; the police say he drowned (which he did), but everybody knows that Sheriff Connors (Ned Beatty) was responsible for it (which he was).  Gator makes two decisions that day.  The first is to escape prison to take down that dirty, crooked Sheriff; he starts out okay, but the warden unhurriedly brings him back in after only a few minutes.  It was quite the jail break, and I'm very glad that it was captured on film.  The warden was fairly indifferent and the prisoner gave up immediately.  In Spanish, they call that muy divertido.  Wait...does divertido mean "boring as hell"?  I know muy means "Shoot me in the face to stop this from being."  The second decision is to work for the Feds, going undercover to bring Sheriff Connors to justice and take down any dirty backwoods moonshiners that are fueling Connors' crime empire.  What is the best way to do that?  Car chases.  Lots and lots of car chases.  Along the way, Gator comes to understand the value of moonshinin' to the semi-honest backwoods folks of Arkansas and he manages to find love by stealing away his partner's woman (Diane Ladd).

This is a movie that is definitely a product of its times.  I'm not just saying that because Burt Reynolds is in it (with no mustache, but he does chew gum throughout).  You don't often see forty minutes of car chases in movies nowadays.  That is mostly because that was the limit for special effects in the 60s and 70s, but car chase movies, when done right, can be a lot of fun.  This movie has cars jumping off dirt ramps, a car with a Confederate flag on the hood, and a car jumping onto a barge, all in the first chase.  I did appreciate that the filmmakers went out of their way to explain the need for car chases in the movie, but it isn't terribly necessary; Gator is transporting moonshine, so he has to avoid local cops.

The acting is about what you would expect from a Burt Reynolds vehicle.  Basically, Burt gets to be cool and irresistible to women, and everyone else is a chump.  And it's true; Ned Beatty, Bo Hopkins, Diane Ladd all look pretty stupid in this movie.  That's not a terrible thing, unless you're trying to argue that too much money is spent on education in Arkansas, but this is a pretty one-sided affair.  It is worth noting that this is the uncredited film debut of Laura Dern; she has a bit part, but you can spot her.  The direction isn't all that bad.  Joseph Sargent knows that the car chases and Reynold's smirk are what people want to see in this movie, and he certainly delivers.  Honestly, as far as car chase/Burt Reynolds movies go, this is probably the best.

But for those of us that look for more in their movies than cars on dirt roads and Burt Reynolds chewing gum, there are a couple of head-scratching moments.  When Gator makes his first daring car escape by driving his car off a pier and onto a barge, shouldn't the police following him know where the barge is heading?  I would think that it would be a regular trip, or at least one that someone on the docks could help them figure out.  Even if the next bridge was too far away to beat the barge, I bet the police on the other side of the river would be more than happy to pick up Gator as he tries to haul his now undoubtedly damaged car off the boat.  Ned Beatty's character is kind of silly, too.  Sure, I'm willing to suspend my disbelief enough to say that, maybe, a corrupt Sheriff could be "running the entire county," both the law and the crime.  But he makes a speech during the film where he argues that police don't make enough money with their day jobs, so it's only right for them to supplement their money with moonshine; the police make their money and the people get their cheap booze.  Beatty estimates that the average, legally taxed, fifth of liquor costs $7 (well, it is the 70s), but moonshine only costs six bits a gallon!  First off, what the hell is a bit?  Oh, it's twelve and a half cents.  That seems like a fairly arbitrary amount, but whatever, Mirriam-Webster.  More importantly, though, Beatty's argument ignores the car races, public danger, exploding stills, toxic unregulated booze, and murders that are a side effect of this business.  I have no problem with the Sheriff being a corrupted jerk, but that speech was a really inept attempt to give him depth.  Perhaps the biggest middle finger this movie gives to logical thought is the ending.  SPOILER ALERT: So Gator manages to trick the Sheriff into driving his car into a lake, which apparently immediately kills him.  Suspicious, but fine.  Whatever.  Why doesn't Gator get thrown back into jail at the end?  He caused a lot of damage, led to the death of the suspect, and he burned his list of moonshiners because they're good people.  So...the FBI lets him out of prison to build a case and he fails in every way possible, and their response is "enjoy your freedom"?  Really?

Still, you don't turn on a movie like this because you enjoy thinking.  This movie definitely succeeds in its mission to be a car chase movie starring Burt Reynolds.