Eight Men Out

I have been lucky enough to grow up in the great state of Illinois, home of some of the best stories in American sports.  I came of age in a time where the Bears put up arguably the most dominant single season in the NFL, the Bulls had two three-peat championship runs, and the eternally cursed Cubs and White Sox continued to break hearts across the nation (until those bastard Sox actually won the World Series...grumble, grumble, Cubs fan).  This past Spring, I was lucky enough to get to visit the baseball Hall of Fame in Cooperstown, New York, and it was pretty awesome.  I won't lie, I teared up on a few occasions.  This weekend, I was very happy to learn that Chicago Cubs great (and one of the worst --- but lovable --- baseball announcers ever), Ron Santo, will finally be inducted into the Hall.  That got me thinking of other Chicago greats who have yet to receive baseball's highest honor.  Of course, that lead me to Eight Men Out, the supposed "inside story" about how the 1919 White Sox intentionally lost the World Series and conspired with professional gamblers to make a profit on their loss.

Sorry, wrong Black Sox movie

The owner of the White Sox in 1919 was Charles Comiskey (Clifton James), and the man was a cheapskate.  He had a world-class team, but insisted on paying them as little as humanly possible.  For instance, the ace of his pitching staff, Eddie Cicotte (David Strathairn) had a clause in his contract that gave him a bonus if he earned 30 wins; Comiskey had him benched for the last few weeks of the regular season because he reached 29.  When the team was offered bonuses for winning the American League title, Comiskey instead gave them only cheap champagne.  Basically, Comiskey was a big enough douche to deserve having his stadium renamed "The Cell." 

When the gambling syndicate run by Arnold Rothstein (Michael Lerner) learns of the discontent on the heavily favored Sox, he makes an offer (through proxies, of course) to select players; if they lose the World Series on purpose, they will be paid far more handsomely than if they actually win.

Maybe then, they could afford some shirts that fit

Some players, like Cicotte, Chick Gandil (Michael Rooker), and Swede Risberg (Don Harvey) go along with the plan willingly.  Buck Weaver (John Cusack) doesn't agree to go along with the plot, but he doesn't report it, either.  The team's star, Shoeless Joe Jackson (D.B. Sweeney) seems too dumb to understand any innuendo or threats, and plays hard and gets paid.  How does the Series turn out?  Well, it's ancient history now, but Eight Men Out plays it for all the drama it can.  But win or lose, the suspiciously poor play from the White Sox will have repercussions for the team and all of baseball for years to come.

Example: chaw is deemed mandatory for jerkwads

If you are unfamiliar with the story of the 1919 "Black Sox," then you're basically out of luck.  While Eight Men Out does kind of touch on why they may or may not have thrown the Series, it isn't exactly the easiest movie to follow if you are not a baseball fan.  Chances are, you will not realize the significance of who the characters are; the cast is vast and recognizable, but there are darn few introductions for them.  I would have loved to hear an announcer explain who these guys were, or have one of the sportswriters (who actually play essential --- but underdeveloped --- roles in this drama) give the audience the lowdown on some of these guys.  The script explains that Shoeless Joe is one of the greatest players ever, but why?  It's not shown on-camera.  As for the others, the script doesn't provide nearly as much. 

Weaver could have held a boombox over his head, for all this script cared

That's not to say that the performances were poor.  John Cusack, despite being a lifelong Cubs fan, is very good as the earnest Buck Weaver, and his protests and effort are what makes this plot chug along.  D.B. Sweeney was convincingly dumb as Shoeless Joe, but he lacked presence on the screen, making him seem a pale shadow of Roy Hobbs, a fictional character based on the man.  David Stathairn gave the most impressive performance, one that reeked of conflict and pride.  Michael Rooker and Don Harvey were fine as the detestable bad guys, although I would have liked maybe a moment of hesitation before they jumped on the "let's lose the World Series" bandwagon. 

Above: the most emotive Rooker gets in this film

Charlie Sheen plays a surprisingly small role in this, especially when you consider his starring roles in Platoon and Wall Street only a few years prior.  John Mahoney, who was apparently never young, was pretty good as the trusting White Sox manager.  Christoper Lloyd and Richard Edson (the parking attendant in another Chicago classic, Ferris Bueller's Day Off) are okay as small-time grifters, but neither is utilized much in this movie.  Director John Sayles cast himself (and Chicago institution Studs Terkel) as one of the two baseball newspaper columnists who helped break this story, although their contributions in this film are underplayed.

I really wish this scene was a highlight

When I was seven years-old, baseball was all I could think about.  I sponged up knowledge like...well, a very absorbent material.  While old age and beer have killed off some of my brain cells, I still retain much of my historical baseball knowledge.  Rewatching Eight Men Out should have been an emotional trip down memory lane for me, but it wasn't.  John Sayles directed his actors well enough, but he failed as a writer to make me care about any of them.

Perhaps the biggest problem with Eight Men Out is its soft focus.  Is this the tale of the entire 1919 Sox team, or is it about the innocents who were unfairly banned from the sport?  The point of view character is, at times, Buck Weaver, but who the hell remembers him?  This movie was made seventy years after Weaver was expelled from the sport, and occasionally showing him as the main character isn't enough to generate sympathy for him.  The most famous player on the team, Shoeless Joe Jackson, is relegated to a very minor role in the script; that's like making Pride of the Yankees with Lou Gehrig as the fifth-billed character.  Who is this movie supposed to be about?  The entire team?  Then Sayles should have explained the characters better in the script.  Shoeless Joe?  Then he should have played a more important role.  Weaver?  Then the focus should have stayed with him as he struggled to succeed despite his teammates.

There are many more problems that the focus.  Even with my near-encyclopedic baseball knowledge, I failed to recognize many of the characters in this film.  That's a pretty big problem; if I can't pick out some of these players, how can a casual viewer hope to understand what's going on?  The script is full of elliptical conversations that allude to the gambling conspiracy, but rarely acknowledge it outright.  As much as I appreciate scripts that assume the viewers are clever, the details of this story are left fairly obtuse.

...like whatever he is rubbing on the ball

Another problem I had with Eight Men Out is that it, really, isn't a baseball movie.  The script is too lazy to focus on any one game, so it instead allows every play shown on-screen to be of major importance; batters hit the first pitch every time, and pitchers give up crucial runs with every throw.  This is a movie about the scandal.  Unfortunately, there is a lot of baseball in-between the conception of the idea and the execution, and both suffer for it.  This isn't a bad movie, though.  Sayles clearly cared about this team and this story, but his passion was executed poorly.  At best, I have to say that this is a mediocre movie about a potentially fantastic film concept.

On a personal note, as a baseball fan with his head in the past (my prized baseball possession is a Ryne Sandberg 1960s-era throwback jersey), I believe that all eight men implicated in the Black Sox scandal should be eligible for the Hall of Fame in 2019.  I think a 100-year ban is more than enough; the only two that sportswriters would even consider inducting would be Shoeless Joe and Buck Weaver, both of whom had a stellar, error-free World Series performance.  And baseball writers are notoriously vindictive, so if they forgive the players, so should the sport.  At least that way, we could expect to stop hearing Pete Rose's whining in about seventy-five years.  Besides, the commissioner that banned the 1919 Sox was a total bastard; he allowed Ty Cobb and Tris Speaker to keep playing after reports of them gambling on the sport surfaced.  Come on, Major League Baseball!  Act like the museum you are an induct the players that deserve it; if you want to hold them accountable for shady actions, include a steroids or gambling section and let the fans determine their legacy!  ...and I'm off my soapbox.

Hot Tub Time Machine

I guess the big question with Hot Tub Time Machine is why anyone would ever need a review to tell them about this movie.  If the title doesn't explain it all to you, then what can I do to help?  It's a stupid title for a movie that has no intentions of being anything more or less than a stupid comedy.  To be completely honest, the gloriously stupid title (the best since Snakes On a Plane) would have been enough to convince me to watch this movie.  Adding in John Cusack and Craig Robinson is just icing on the cake.

The premise is that three one-time best friends are now eking out sad existences.  Adam's (Cusack) girlfriend has just moved out and apparently taken most of his belongings.  The only person he sees regularly is his nephew, Jacob (Clark Duke), who spends all his time in his basement room playing video games.  Nick (Robinson) is married to a controlling wife (who insisted he hyphenate his last named when they got married) and his job includes cleaning the feces out of rich people's dogs.  They are brought together when Lou (Rob Corddry), an alcoholic party animal, makes the mistake of revving his engine in time to Motley Crue's "Home Sweet Home" with the garage door closed.  Someone (who could this possibly be?  It's late at night, he lives alone, and the garage is closed!) saves his life and the hospital assumes that this was a failed suicide attempt.  Since Lou's family hates him and he has no real friends, his childhood buddies, Adam and Jacob, rally to his hospital bedside.  They don't talk to Lou any more because "he's an asshole," but they agree to take care of him because "he's [their] asshole."  If you don't have someone like that in your circle of friends, chances are, you're that guy.

Lou assures them that it was just an accident, but they decide that the best way to cheer up a hard-drinking forty year-old adolescent is to relive their youthful debauchery by visiting their old stomping grounds.  These stomping grounds happen to be a ski town that has all but been condemned; the town's stores are all out of business and their formerly hedonistic hotel is now filled with the elderly and their cats.  The group (which includes Jacob, for some reason) gets their old room, which comes with a broken hot tub.  The hotel repairman (Chevy Chase) fixes it so that glows with a yellow light that makes the water a suspicious shade of urine yellow, but the group strips down and gets hot tub drunk right away.

When they wake up, it is 1986.  The three friends now inhabit their eighteen year-old bodies and are at the bustling ski resort in the prime of their lives.  Jacob has also gone back in time, although no explanation is given as to how or why he is in his own modern day body.  The group is warned by the repairman not to change anything in the past, but that plan gets old fast.  Adam has the chance to avoid dumping the perfect girlfriend, Nick can redeem his musical dreams, Lou can drink a lot and try to get laid, and Jacob can try prevent his existence from being wiped out by the group changing the future.  There are a lot of 80s jokes, some gratuitous breasts, a few shots of Corddry's naked butt, and a lot of slapstick comedy.  Some of it works, some of it doesn't, but it's all pretty stupid.

For being so obviously dumb, this movie had some pretty solid direction.  Steve Pink is better known as a screenwriter (he wrote High Fidelity and Grosse Point Blank), but he has a gift for catching humor with his camera.  Some of that is obviously due to him giving the cast some leeway with their lines, but I'll give Pink credit for making this ridiculous movie not come off as amateurish.

The main cast is pretty good, too.  John Cusack is always likable in his movies, even though he hasn't made a great one in a while.  Craig Robinson is rapidly becoming a reliable quality gauge for stupid comedies.  His deadpanning into the camera the phrase "hot tub time machine" is worth seeing the movie for, just by itself.  Clark Duke plays a chubby nerd this time, expanding on his varied film credits that include "chubby dork," "chubby dweeb," and the adjective-less "nerd."  What will make or break your enjoyment of this movie is how much you like Rob Corddry.  Most of the film's humor comes from him, including every single cheap or gross-out joke in the script.  Personally, I got tired of him pretty quickly, but he still made me laugh on occasion, which I found impressive.  Usually, when I am turned off by a comedic character, there is no way back into my good graces (I'm judgmental like that), but his timing was good and some of his lines are brilliant.  He's really, really obnoxious, though.

The supporting cast is surprisingly full decent performances.  Of course, Chevy Chase has fun as the nutty/supernatural repairman, so he's decent enough.  Crispin Glover gets some laughs as a bellboy doomed to lose his arm...somehow.  Thomas Lennon has a cameo that is a little funny, I guess, but nothing special.  The young cast was surprisingly decent, too.  Sebastian Stan overacted as the stereotypical 80s movie ski jerk, but this isn't a movie that requires subtlety, so it worked well.  Similarly, Lyndsy Fonseca and Collette Wolfe played their ditzy snow bunny slut roles as well as the roles demanded.  Lizzy Caplan did well as Cusack's "true" love interest, and they managed to give the movie something a little deeper than a stupid slapstick comedy deserves.

Are there any flaws in this film?  Well, yeah.  But to detail the film's scientific and logical flaws is missing the point.  You don't think a movie titled Hot Tub Time Machine really cares do you?  If this sounds like a stupid movie, you're absolutely right.  It's dumb and embraces that level of cleverness fully.  It's definitely better than the title implies, but a lot of the jokes generate chuckles instead of laughs.  Admittedly, a big part of that for me was because I didn't really have fun with Rob Corddry's character, even though he had some of the film's best lines.  This movie's biggest flaw was in giving the bulk of the humor to the least likable character.  Corddry carried this film's humor, even though there were several other actors capable of chipping in.  I thought Craig Robinson was underused, despite his theoretically main character status.  Chevy Chase, Thomas Lennon and Crispin Glover could have done more, too.  As far as stupid slapstick goes, there are certainly worse movies to watch, but this just isn't funny enough to satisfy me.

True Grit (1969)

There are times where a role seems so perfectly suited for an actor that it feels like they were just born to play that role.  Jack Black's character in High Fidelity is a recent example, but John Wayne's performance as Rooster Cogburn in True Grit is one for the ages.  This is, of course, the film which won Wayne his only Oscar, and it is sometimes seen as an example of the Academy's tendency to award an actor/director's later work as a way of acknowledging their complete body of work.  There might be something to that; John Wayne has 170 movie credits on IMDB, and he played John Wayne in every single one of those films.  The man's acting range can be fairly compared to that of Michelangelo's David.  And yet, here it is pitch perfect.

One of the reason for this is a pretty good script.  While I won't say that the lines are razor sharp, they play to Wayne's strengths and are made more enjoyable by his bizarre drawl.  Rooster Cogburn gets most of the good lines in the film, but the dramatic weight of the film is carried by Kim Darby (who later played John Cusack's mom in Better Off Dead).  This shocked me the first time I watched this movie; who would have believed that a teenage girl in a John Wayne western would be anything but annoying?  As a rule, westerns don't have much of a strong female presence; having Darby's character drive the plot shows how many opportunities westerns have missed.  The other supporting characters don't get a whole lot to work with, in terms of script, but they rarely seem shallow, which probably has more to do with acting and directing than writing.

The film is about Mattie Ross (Darby) and her drive to bring her father's killer to justice.  To accomplish this, she hires the meanest Marshall in the territory, Rooster Cogburn.  That's pretty much it.  Sure, country legend Glen Campbell (sporting the same haircut he has today) is a Texas Ranger that helps them on their mission, but it's a pretty bare bones plot.  Cogburn is mean and drunk, while Ross is strong-willed and obstinate; the movie is about how their personalities clash and gel.

While the script is good and the plot is fairly plain, the acting and directing stand out.  Of course, Wayne plays himself, albeit an older, crotchety version of his classic tough guy.  But Darby does a good job as the obstinate young woman and her acting makes the growing connection between her and Wayne's character believable.  They didn't do it all alone, though.  Glen Campbell is okay, I guess.  Initially, I thought he didn't do much in the movie, but his performance does help explain how Cogburn and Mattie Ross can get along, adding an everyman presence to a movie where the two main characters stray far from the norm.  Dennis Hopper manages to not seriously overact in a small role.  Robert Duvall (who apparently never had a full head of hair) does a predictably good job as a villain who just seems desperate, not evil.  Villains in the 1960s are often over-the-top, mwa-ha-ha, twirling-their-mustache evil, especially in westerns.  Here, Duvall turns in an understated but believable performance, as he has done so many times since.  I credit most of these performances to director Henry Hathaway.  If you have seen any of John Wayne's less famous movies, you know how terrible the supporting cast can be, even with a decent script.  Being able to push Darby and Campbell to where their characters needed to be made this movie what it is.

This isn't a flawless movie, of course.  A lot of it has aged poorly as the popularity of westerns has declined over the past few decades.  John Wayne at his best still has the tendencies of John Wayne at his worst; I've seen toddlers that can play a more convincing drunk than him.  The viewer is forced to invest a lot of their interest in Darby early on, and it takes a while to believe that it's going to be worth it, because she is pretty annoying without Wayne to counterbalance her.  Still, this is an all-ages western that manages to be endearing, funny, and touching, even to those that are normally bored stupid watching westerns.

2012

Director Roland Emmerich hates buildings.  I know what you're thinking.  "Whoa, whoa, whoa, Brian...Just because the guy directed 2012, The Day After Tomorrow, Godzilla, and Independence Day doesn't mean he hates buildings.  Maybe he just likes to direct insultingly stupid special effects movies."  Well, then, riddle me this: if he doesn't hate buildings, why did he write the screenplay for all those films?  Check and mate, Mr. Argumentative-voice-that-I-hear-in-my-head-as-I-type-this.

Now that I've got that off my chest, let's get to the movie.  Well, not so fast...did you see the poster?  The movie poster for the film has "We Were Warned" as a tag line.  Warned?  By who?  Okay, the movie is named 2012, and there is the famous Mayan Long Count calendar that starts with the date August 11, 3114 BC and ends with December 21, 2012 AD, so I'll assume that the Mayans warned us.  I have to assume this, because the movie only casually alludes to the Mayans a couple of times, never giving an in depth connection of how they knew the Mayans were warning us.  Alright, let's make that assumption.  What did they warn us about?  Presumably, since this is a disaster movie, the end of the world.  I'm not about to debate the merits of that idea (Well, maybe just for a second...my calendar ends on December 31, 2010.  Does that mean we all die on New Year's Eve?), but let's just assume that end of their calendar equals disaster.  The tag line implies that we are responsible, though.  "We Were Warned."  What?  "Don't let time continue in a linear fashion past December 20, 2012, or you'll be sorrrrrrryyyyyy!"  You'd think this preordained global event would tie in to nuclear war or global warming or dinosaur-killing asteroids, but no, not this film.  The earth just decides to go for humanity's jugular.  There are a lot of earthquakes, tidal waves (same idea, I know), and typhoons.  No tornadoes, oddly enough.  But "We Were Warned" that nothing humans did had any effect on the planet, and we were all just living on borrowed time.  We took out a loan from Mother Nature, and she's coming to collect on 12/21/2012...with interest!

Dear marketing team for 2012, I hate you so much.  Sincerely, Brian.

This movie could have also been titled "John Cusack: Faster Than Nature."  On four separate occasions, Cusack is being chased by a force of nature (an earthquake, volcano fumes twice, and a tidal wave) that tends to travel faster than a person, but apparently not John Cusack.  Don't get me wrong, I like John Cusack, but the man doesn't like being in good movies any more.  I also believe that, no matter how good a driver you are, you cannot drive a limousine through an office building that is falling down without crashing.  That's just my opinion, but I dare you to prove me wrong.


The plot to this masterpiece is pretty bare bones: the token scientist that everybody listens to (played by Chiwetel Ejiofor) realizes that the world is going to end.  He and his friends have even calculated how much time we have left.  He tells the government, the government listens, and the governments of the world agree to secretly prepare some way to survive.  That's the plot. 

Reading that, you'd think this movie was 45 minutes long, but it clocks in at over two-and-a-half hours.  How do you fill all that extra time?  Well, Roland has the tried and true method of having one or two main characters, and the disaster happens, and it impacts the main characters and their loved ones.  In Independence Day, it was Will Smith and Jeff Goldblum; in The Day After Tomorrow, it was Dennis Quaid; in Godzilla, it was...um, I remember rooting for Godzilla, so she must have been the main character.  In 2012, the main characters are Ejiofor and Cusack.  How does that work out for their loved ones?  Let's see...Ejiofor fails to save his family or any of his friends, while Cusack's estranged family almost makes it through the film unscathed until his beloved replacement as husband and father (seriously, they really liked this guy) dies at the very end.  Don't feel bad for them; they just have Cusack fill in the newly vacant position.

The main idea in the film is the optimistic notion that, when all the chips are down, people are inherently good and will try to help each other because it is the right thing to do.  John Cusack's character wrote a (not terribly successful) book with that as its theme, and Ejiofor is reading the book.  The natural disasters occurring represent the tough times, and now it's time for humanity to save itself with its inherent goodness.  That's not a bad theme.  I don't necessarily disagree with it, either.  But every movie needs a villain, and in this movie it is Oliver Platt.  And nature, but nature has no dialogue.  Oliver Platt is the government guy who is trying to save the few thousand people he can in the time that Ejiofor gives him.  But Ejiofor's estimates are wrong every time (making him the worst movie scientist ever), which forces Platt's character to act aggressively to get the survival mission off the ground.  Don't get me wrong, Platt is a jerk in this film, but he's a logical jerk.  He does not try to save his 89 year-old mother because she's old and they will have to rebuild society if they survive; he allows rich people (instead of smart or genetically superior people) to pay billions of Euros for spots on the survival ships because the survival ships cost billions to make; when one of the survival ships can't be used, Platt chooses to not let them on board his ship because the final killer tidal wave will arrive in five minutes.  Is he a nice guy?  No, but his actions are understandable.  But Ejiofor has to make a swinging-for-the-fences-and-striking-out speech about how, if humanity is going to survive, it can't let go of its goodness, its...humanity.  And everyone but Platt totally agreed with him.  What?  Really?  Nobody says, "Let's try and get past this first extinction-level threat and then we can start being nice?"  Man, I must be ripe with villainy to think like that.

So how are the actors?  Well, the star of the show, Special Effects, was okay.  Buildings got destroyed.  Water rose.  Whatever.  Cusack was fine, but he needs a new agent.  Ejiofor was less good, but is generally a solid actor, so I'll give him a pass this time.  Cusack's son could be out-acted by lukewarm yogurt.  Amanda Peet and Thandie Newton are women; that's all the script really says about them.  Danny Glover looked really tired as the most depressing President of the United States ever...he's basically the anti-Bill Pullman in Independence Day; where Pullman had everyone fight back against annihilation, Glover just said "I quit, time to die."  Woody Harrelson plays a convincing crazy dirty hippie (he actually reminded me of my uncle in Montana, if my uncle was absolutely poo-flinging crazy), but it's still not a good role.  George Segal is in the movie for reasons that are never revealed.  There are some characters from China and India, too, but you're not supposed to care about them.

Really, that's the problem with this movie.  It spends so much time and effort (and did I mention time?) trying to make this feel epic, it has no room left for the characters.  And there are so many characters that just serve as cannon fodder to show how deadly the end of the world can be.  "Epic" means something with huge scope, but it always comes back to the characters.  Or, it's supposed to.

I give this film two stars for the effects, two stars for Cusack's charm, one star for Danny Glover not saying "I'm too old for this shit," and one star for killing George Segal, but I take away three stars for royally pissing me off.