Trading Places

All right, it's time to review one of my absolute favorites.  It has a great cast, led by two successful SNL alumni, and a still-in-his-prime John Landis directed.  It's hard to comprehend almost thirty years after its release, but Trading Places could have been pretty terrible.  Even though it was released in 1983, back when Eddie Murphy could do no wrong, he was far from a star; this film was released only six months after his film debut in 48 Hours, and Murphy was still known more for playing Buckwheat than for being a theatrical draw.  Dan Aykroyd was a bigger name than Murphy at the time, but he had only made one good movie (The Blues Brothers) since leaving Saturday Night Live; most of his efforts had actually been pretty terrible --- I'm pretty sure that the only living and mostly sane fan of Doctor Detroit is my own father, and even he admits that it's crap.  Sure, they got John Landis to direct, but his post-Twilight Zone career (that movie was released the same month as Trading Places) was a steep slide down in quality.  This was also Jamie Lee Curtis' first non-horror role.  Trading Places was blessed with having the right actors at the right time in their careers with a director that was still on his A-game; if this had been made a few years earlier or later, we might have had something like Nothing But Trouble.

Laugh while you can, boys.  Comedy is a fickle mistress

Mortimer (Don Ameche) and Randolph (Ralph Bellamy) Duke are the owners of Duke & Duke, a commodities brokering firm; alike in so many ways --- style, pride, greed, etc. --- the two seem to have only one major difference in opinion: nature vs. nurture.  Randolph is a proponent for nurture; he believes that anyone can succeed in society, if they are given many socioeconomic advantages.  Mortimer believes in breeding; essentially, the cream will always rise up to the top.  But what can they really do to solve this argument? 

I should mention that they had a knife fight to settle bow vs. regular tie

Well, they can test their theories out.  When the company's heir apparent, Louis Winthorpe (Dan Aykroyd), had a (moderately) innocent street urchin, Billy Ray Valentine (Eddie Murphy), jailed over a misunderstanding, the Dukes had their two extremes --- Winthorpe was born with a silver spoon in his various orifices, while Valentine was a poor minority from a broken home ---  and the Dukes finally had some suitable test subjects.  Together, the Dukes manage to disgrace Winthorpe, put him in the poor house, and get his friends to forsake him.  They also bring in Billy Ray to manage their company, offering him wealth and self-respect in exchange.

Their explanation for pork bellies cracks me up every time

And nurture wins!  Well, kind of.  Valentine naturally enjoys the high life and Winthorpe doesn't take his fall from grace well.

Best.  Santa.  Ever.

However, just because Billy Ray is good at is new position doesn't mean that the Dukes have any intention of keeping him around; they still see him as gutter trash.  So when Billy Ray overhears the Dukes congratulating themselves on their experiment, he decides to team up with Winthorpe so they can turn the tables on the Dukes.

Above: the scene where that happens.  Not pictured: the table

I absolutely love this cast.  Dan Aykroyd was nearly perfect as a high-born weenie, and his drunken Santa bit makes me smile every time I think about it.  Eddie Murphy was also very good as the street-smart Billy Ray; he doesn't get enough credit for how sympathetic he made his character.  Jamie Lee Curtis was fine as a hooker with an accountant's mind and sliding scale for impropriety.

"Exposition while I undress because boobs"

This is also my favorite Denholm Elliot role --- anyone can play a smart-mouthed manservant (well, any man can), but Elliot walked the line between faithful butler and annoyed house servant beautifully.  Don Ameche and Ralph Bellamy were also perfect as the villains; only Michael Douglas plays a money-grubbing bastard better than these two, only he's not funny.  Paul Gleason was also perfectly mean as the Dukes' hired hand; Gleason has always done a great job playing jerks, but this is the only time I can recall where he was a jerk that was not an authority figure.  Those are really the only performances worth noting, although this film is packed with recognizable actors in bit parts.  Giancarlo Esposito was an easily-impressed con, blues legend Bo Diddley didn't care about the time in Gstaad, Bill Cobbs was owed $17 and change by Billy Ray, Frank Oz was a corrupt cop, Al Franken was a stoner, James Belushi was "a gorilla, you fucking clown," James Eckhouse was lucky to get a speaking line, and Stephen Stucker made his only non-Airplane! appearance I am aware of.

I normally don't praise John Landis for the pace of his films, but Trading Places is a rare example of a two hour comedy that doesn't have a portion that drags.  At least some of that credit goes to the screenplay from writing collaborators Timothy Harris and Herschel Weingrod; the pair seemed to specialize in goofy-ass concept stories (Twins, Kindergarten Cop, Space Jam, etc.), but they managed to make this Prince and the Pauper update seem only highly unlikely instead of batshit crazy.  It is also worth pointing out how much of the humor in Trading Places comes from reactions and not punchlines; that means they wrote this to be an ensemble piece, not a showcase for Murphy and Aykroyd to ham it up, and it actually worked.  While the script was pretty good, it is Landis' ability to edit the film to capture all the comedic beats that makes this movie great.  Without his eye and ear for timing, this script would have been wasted.

The lawyer joke following this is so simple, but so effective

As good as Trading Places is, it isn't exactly a work of art.  I love this script, but the entire scheme to steal the crop reports was incredibly stupid.  Even if you ignore the Halloween-quality costumes the group wears to travel incognito, there is a bigger problem. 

And I'm not talking about the black-face.  This time.

Okay, so the good guys need to trick Clarence Beaks and steal his briefcase, right?  So far, he has personally hired Ophelia and has personally planted evidence on Winthorpe.  Logic would dictate that those two would not be involved in the plan, because he knows what they look like.  The script, however, dictates that Winthorpe --- the pansy-ass white boy --- pose as a Jamaican and Ophelia is dressed like a stereotypical German girl...with a Swedish accent.  Sure, having Coleman pose as a priest and Billy Ray as an African exchange student and having them all sit in the same train car was not exactly a stroke of genius, but there's stupid, and then there's functionally handicapped thinking.

Although I see how they thought she could be useful

That scene is one of the few that treads the line between stupid funny and obnoxiously dumb --- the other is arguably the whole "one gorilla, two gorilla" issue --- but I will commend it for not being dull, at least.  Hell, I actually kind of like it, even though it is SOOOO dumb!  What makes Trading Places a classic for me, though, are the little touches that I notice more and more with every viewing.  Have you ever noticed that Winthorpe's prison numbers are the same as John Belushi's in The Blues Brothers?  How about the other tribute to himself that Landis inserted, his customary "See You Next Wednesday" reference? 

Hint: it's above and left of the nipples

What is that referencing?  I have no idea, but it pops up in most Landis works, for whatever reason.  If you know the story behind it, please leave a comment.  It's not just the Easter eggs in the movie that I enjoy, though.  I have come to love the punchline-free jokes and sayings.  No matter what day of the year it is, if you say "Looking good, Brian," I will inevitably respond with "Feeling good, [whoever you are]."  It's not exactly a gag, but I adore that exchange between characters in the beginning and end of this film.  How about Billy Ray imitating the deep-voiced tough guy?  "Yeah" isn't normally enough to make an impact on me, but this is a wonderful movie for contextual jokes.  This is also one of the few movies that manages to get racist humor exactly right; the racists are so obviously the bad guys, and the things they presume are so inoffensive that I have to laugh at their racist stupidity.  I mean, seriously --- who wouldn't get into a limo with two elderly white dudes offering "whiskey --- all you want"?!?  That's not a racial tendency, that's how you pick up any man between the ages of 18-35.  It blows my mind how funny I find this movie, even though it is relatively light on jokes.  I don't know if it is thanks to the excellent characterization from the script, the spot-on acting from the cast, the excellent editing from the director, or the fantastic orchestral soundtrack (how many comedies can boast that?), but Trading Places is a rare comedy that is clever and stupid and still makes you care about the characters.  This easily makes my top three comedies of all time.

What the Hell Happened to John Landis?

Seriously, what happened to this guy?  John Landis directed some truly fun stuff as the disco era died, but the last movie of his I can remember seeing an advertisement for was 1998's Blues Brothers 2000.  This is the guy who directed Animal House, The Blues Brothers, An American Werewolf in London, and Trading Places --- how did he go from making blockbuster comedies to directing Franklin & Bash episodes?

Honestly, I don't know.  That won't stop me from sharing my poorly researched opinion, though.  Let's consider Landis' career in stages.  The first stage covers his rapid rise.  Early on, Landis' primary talent as a director was to let the performers do their thing.  Kentucky Fried Movie was comprised of sketches that Jim Abrams and the Zucker brothers had helped hone in frequent live shows and Animal House lives and dies on the non-verbal acting of John Belushi.  However, with An American Werewolf in London, Landis took a risk and actually told a story.  The movie would have been pretty good on its own, but he coupled it with some truly fantastic special effects that still look great today.  As far as box office numbers go, his worst-performing movie of this period grossed more than triple its budget.  A star is born, right?

He apparently likes to point in pictures.

Maybe, but stars can burn out, too.  1983 would begin the second period of Landis' career.  I don't have an exact timeline for what he did when, exactly, but Landis directed Trading Places and portions of Twilight Zone: The Movie in 1982, with both seeing a release in the summer of 1983.  That is when John made the then-unusual choice for a feature film director to make a music video; of course, it was not just any music video, but Michael Jackson's Thriller.  The video is still regarded as the best of all time, and both movies were significant successes.  There was just one small problem.  While filming his bits for Twilight Zone, Landis and his film crew cut some legal corners at exactly the wrong time.  An accident happened on set, and three people (two child actors and Vic Morrow) died when a helicopter being used for a scene crashed.  Sometimes people look at Landis' career and assume that there was a sharp decline after this, but it wasn't like that.  Landis spent some time in court over the next six or seven years as part of legal and civil suits, but he was ultimately found not guilty of manslaughter (he did have to settle in the civil suits).

See what I mean?

After that, he was still making mostly successful movies, but the victories were smaller.  Into the Night didn't do well critically or financially.  Spies Like Us re-teamed Landis with Dan Aykroyd and was a modest hit, but this is right around the time Aykroyd and Chevy Chase stopped being consistently funny.  Three Amigos! was even less successful, despite having Chevy Chase (again) and Steve Martin, and a script co-written by Martin and Lorne Michaels.  Landis also took the time to co-write Clue, which turned out to be a significant financial disappointment.  Yes, Eddie Murphy did hire Landis to direct Coming to America, which was a huge hit, but there was a lot of press about how the star and director frequently clashed.  After that, Landis made a series of bad movies.  Oscar, Innocent Blood, The Stupids and Blues Brothers 2000 were all big flops.  Sure, Landis cashed a check for Beverly Hills Cop III and the film made money, but it was so poorly received that it killed the franchise.  After that series of flops, Landis entered the third stage of his career as a television director.  Sure, he made the little-seen Burke and Hare, but everything else has been in the anonymity of the small-screen.

Seriously, this gets annoying.

So, what happened?  I don't believe that the Twilight Zone tragedy killed his career, but it is pretty clear that is started a downward slide for him.  Honestly, though, I think he had already dug himself into a hole.  In interviews, Landis likes to cast himself as a bit of a rebel, telling stories that pit him against the hostility of the actors, writers, producers, or whoever; his stories ultimately end with him overcoming those obstacles to make some of the best movies ever.  That may be true, but I get the feeling that Landis is just kind of a prick.  He's probably a blast to be acquainted with, but his print and video interviews show a man with no small amount of bitter sarcasm and a substantial amount of pride.  Depending on who you ask, Landis is a control freak (as Eddie Murphy more or less claimed in 1990) or an egomaniac (as Harold Ramis hinted in 1998), or the only sane person amongst insane Hollywood types (as Landis has occasionally explained).

Like his film career, Landis' photo gags stopped being funny in 1983

The truth is probably somewhere in-between.  Landis had a lot of success right out of the gate, and that allowed him to be a cocky SOB for his first few years in the business.  Not only was he making hits, he was making stars!  When the tragedy happened, Landis' personality probably didn't help him win over film executives who would have to insure his pictures.  When you combine that with his increasing reliance on Saturday Night Live alumni who were becoming decreasingly funny, you get some disappointing returns.  Without the box-office clout to back up his ego and pay his insurance, I imagine it got hard for Landis to find respectable work, which explains the utter crap he put out in the 1990s.

I saw Oscar in the theater.  On my birthday.  Screw YOU.

Here's the thing, though: John Landis is still capable of making a great movie.  He just needs to know his strengths.  I could see Landis making another cool horror movie, but I doubt he'd be able to get the budget to pull off the cool effects that were the stars of his best efforts.  And it's not like he has the storytelling ability to handle a drama or anything subtle.  It's more likely, that he would work well with a young group of sketch comedians (here's a suggestion, if he needs one); that way, he could focus on inspiring a fun shoot, capturing comic gold when it happens, and editing it to make even the less funny moments shine.  That is, of course, assuming that he didn't try to shove the talent around because he made a music video with Slash and Macaulay Culkin.

The Blues Brothers

When I reviewed Jesus Christ Superstar a few weeks ago, I listed South Park: Bigger, Longer and Uncut and Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory as my favorite musicals.  I apparently forgot about one of my all-time favorite films, The Blues Brothers.  I could try and defend my omission by classifying the film as an action movie (the car chases probably made Burt Reynolds jealous) or as a comedy, but I'll just 'fess up.  I forgot about it.  I'm dumb like that sometimes.

Without a doubt, the best movie idea to ever spring from Saturday Night Live, The Blues Brothers took the surprisingly successful (and shockingly legit) R&B/soul/blues band that got its start on SNL and gave them a story.  Sure, Their first album, Briefcase Full of Blues, had album liner notes detailing some of that backstory.  Sure, it certainly helped that the band hadn't become annoying by starring in some inevitably underwhelming SNL sketches --- these gags were fresh, even if the characters were recognizable.  But what helped the most was the combination of Dan Aykroyd and John Landis.  Landis showed a talent for filming action and music numbers that complemented his already established skill with directing comedies.  Add Landis' surprising skill set with a still-funny Dan Aykroyd (rarely seen after Nothing But Trouble), and you get an odd blend of clever comedy, stupid comedy, reckless destruction and truly awesome musical numbers.

If you don't love this scene, you have no soul (or R&B or blues)

When Joliet Jake Blues (John Belushi) --- with "JAKE" tattooed on his knuckles --- is released on parole, he is met by his brother, Elwood (Dan Aykroyd) --- with "ELWO" tattooed on the knuckles of one hand, and "OD" finishing off the name on his other fist --- and the two return to the orphanage where they grew up.  Times are tough for the orphanage, though, and five thousand dollars is needed to keep the place open or the only parents Jake and Elwood have ever known --- the abrasive Sister Mary "The Penguin" Stigmata (Kathleen Freeman) and the orphanage's janitor, Cal (Cab Calloway) --- will be living in a remote mission and the street, respectively.

What's one more scat-singer on the street to the Board of Education?

Jake and Elwood hastily agree to get the money in time for the approaching deadline, but The Penguin insists that they get the money honestly.  That poses more of a problem.  Cal recommends they attend a church where they hear a sermon from Reverend Cleophus (James Brown).  During the unexpectedly lively sermon, complete with dancers, people doing flips, back-up vocals from Chaka Khan, and shockingly poor enunciation, the boys receive a message.

"...ah herr a diss toob in sown!"

To save the orphanage, they must bring The Blues Brothers Band back together.  This isn't just their idea; this is what God wants them to do.  It's not going to be easy, though.  The band has split up, taking various joe jobs and moving on with their lives.  And if they get the band together, they still need to play an enormous show and it needs to be ridiculously successful.  And even if they are able to do that, there are a number of people out to get the Blues Brothers, simply for doing whatever it is they do.  But they won't fail.  They're on a mission from God, after all.

The acting in The Blues Brothers is pretty hit-and-miss.  John Belushi and Dan Aykroyd have wonderful chemistry and are thoroughly entertaining throughout, even when speaking one-word sentences.

The great thing about this movie is that the wonderful, random and physical comedy these two bring to the table is just icing on the cake.  Aside from small roles from John Candy (note: do not emulate his bar scene and order orange whips.  They are disgusting), Henry Gibson, Frank Oz, Charles Napier, and Carrie Fisher (all of whom were just lovely), the rest of the cast is filled with amateurs.  If you are looking to make a movie that featured great musicians acting, stick to Cab Calloway and Aretha Franklin.  The other musicians --- specifically Matt "Guitar" Murphy, Donald "Duck" Dunn and Steve "The Colonel" Cropper --- are about as wooden as you can get.

As her husband says, "They're all pretty bad."

Luckily, the bad acting from the non-professional cast feeds into the awkward timing and left-field jokes that Landis loves in his films.  In any other movie, I would point to the cameos of Paul Reubens, Steven Spielberg, and that guy who played the limo driver in Die Hard as high points in the casting, but I can honestly quote at least a dozen lines of dialogue from these musicians.  Their acting may not be great, but their delivery and Landis' editing makes them surprisingly memorable.

"I wrote Boom Boom"  "No you didn't!"

The real star of the film was the musical numbers, though.  Even at the height of the band's popularity (they did have a number one album), I doubt anyone would have expected legends like James Brown, Aretha Franklin, Ray Charles, John Lee Hooker and Cab Calloway to showing up and sing in this film.  And The Blues Brothers Band is shockingly good.  Filled with established sessions musicians as well as the guitarist and bassist from Booker T and the MGs --- who supplied some of the major musical themes for the film --- this was a musical machine.  Belushi and Aykroyd's vocals aren't bad, but they are enthusiastic, which makes all the difference.  When you mix that enthusiasm with the credentials of their band and the great guest performers, you get some truly memorable music scenes.

John Landis directed The Blues Brothers and co-wrote it with Aykroyd.  This isn't a script that could have been pulled off by just any actors --- there are too many weird gags and half-written jokes ("Got my Cheese Whiz?") that required these exact leads --- but the fact that Landis and Aykroyd were able to take advantage of their familiarity with each other (and Belushi, of course) to make so many of these jokes work is remarkable.  Also impressive is how Landis was able to take that SNL staple of humor (ridiculously over-doing something because "Get it?  This is sillier than real life!") and multiply it a thousandfold.  Sure, it's kind of funny that a lot of police would chase Jake and Elwood for, essentially, being awesome; Landis brings in SWAT, tanks, and the National Guard into the mix, turning a slightly silly idea into something ludicrously over-the-top.

Example

John Landis is not a director known for his rapport with the actors in his films, and that is why he usually doesn't get surprising performances; the actors you expect to be funny are funny, and then there's everybody else.  But Landis edited this picture surprisingly well, too.  He mixes iconic shots of the Chicagoland area with iconic shots of the actors.

He sometimes ends scenes abruptly to punch up the humor in a parting line of dialogue.  His camera work is fairly commonplace for most of the film (aside from avoiding Jakes eyes in the opening credits), but he shows an eye for shots that look great.  He's never afraid to make a choice that is stupid or silly, either (the Nazi car chase, for example); it's almost as if his attitude while making this film was "why not?"  And it doesn't hurt that he decided to wreck a shocking amount of property while filming this movie.  After all, if the music and the jokes don't appeal to you, at least you can enjoy the destruction of a mall and some massive car pileups.

Behind the scenes secret: John Landis hates cars

The Blues Brothers shouldn't work as well as it does.  Hell, it shouldn't have been made like this.  No studio would give a Saturday Night Live idea, even one with proven commercial appeal, a budget this large.  Hell, MacGruber had one-third the budget of this film, and The Blues Brothers was made thirty years earlier!  Of course, MacGruber was obviously going to suck, but that's still an impressive budgetary difference.  So many of these scenes work because they are so big and over-the-top (Carrie Fisher's destruction, the car chases, the mall scene, and Maxwell Street musical numbers, etc.), and it is a miracle these filmmakers were allowed to dream this big.  While it would have certainly been different with a smaller budget, The Blues Brothers shows so much love for its music that the scale doesn't matter much.

I think I was born to love this movie.  The Chicago setting, music that fits the city (and you can still hear bums play on the streets), and comedy that toes the line between stupid and clever...it's just so good.  And I have always kind of liked the Wrigley Field bit, too.

For more on John Landis, check out some other opinions:

An American Werewolf in London

It's easy to forget that director John Landis is still alive.  After a string of truly fantastic work, his production fell off sharply, with the hits becoming smaller and the jobs seemingly getting harder to come by (presumably because of his involvement in The Twilight Zone fatal accidents).  Nowadays, he directs odd television episodes, but that's about it.  An American Werewolf in London was made during his string of hits, but it doesn't bear much similarity to his more famous comedies.  If you watch this movie with the assumption that it will rival Kentucky Fried Movie's slapstick or The Blues Brothers' all-around awesomeness, you're going to be pretty disappointed.  However, if you look at this as the horror film from the director of Michael Jackson's Thriller, then I think you'll be in the right mindset for this movie.

The story begins with two American students walking through the moors of England on a cold and wet night.  They agree to take refuge at the first pub they come across; the pub they find is called the The Slaughtered Lamb.  Inside, they find locals unused to travelers.  When the boys try to make small talk and ask about a pentagram on the wall of the pub, the room gets silent and they are more or less forced out of the building.  They are given the cryptic advice to stay on the road, off the moors, and to beware the moon.  Some of the patrons are glad to be rid of the boys, but the matron bartender is distraught that the boys are out on the moors during the full moon.  Soon enough, the boys are walking and talking, trying to find the next town, when they hear a terrifying howl.  They then notice that the moon is full.  And they have accidentally left the road and are lost on the moors.  Well, they were warned.  Sure enough, they are attacked by a savage beast; Jack (Griffin Dunne) is torn to pieces, but the Slaughtered Lamb patrons kill the beast before it can do more than bite and scratch David (David Naughton).  Before David passes out, he sees a naked old man dead next to him.

It's a werewolf story, what do you want?  You know what's going to happen next.  Somebody's going to tell David that he was bitten by a werewolf, which makes him a werewolf.  David isn't going to believe that, because it sounds crazy.  And, at the next full moon, David will transform into a werewolf and kill people and/or animals.  An American Werewolf in London mixes things up a bit, though.  By setting the story in modern times, the Gothic horror and superstitious element that are usually included in werewolf tales is gone.  Instead, David is treated by doctors and nurses, who assume he has some sort of post-traumatic stress syndrome (which I know I would have, in his place).  A love interest is also added to the story in the form of his nurse, Alex (Jenny Agutter), who lets him move into her apartment after being discharged from the hospital; normally, werewolf love interests tend to be virginal women with an implied, but not lusty, relationship with the wolf.  The biggest change to the formula is definitely the person who tells David that he's a werewolf.  David sees the mangled corpses of his victims, starting with his buddy Jack; Jack and all of the werewolf's victims are wandering around in a state of limbo, trapped between heaven and hell.  Jack's advice to David is to commit suicide and release all the innocent victims to their destined afterlives.

Obviously, this is a fresh take on the werewolf movie, and it is a welcome change.  Setting the film in modern day England allows the characters to be sarcastic and occasionally funny, something rare in most over-serious werewolf movies.  This also allows the actors a little more range.  Instead of just being a tragic figure, David Naughton is allowed to be charming and romantic, as well as a tortured monster.  Griffin Dunne does a great job in a difficult role; he manages to be sympathetic and funny, despite having the goal of convincing David to kill himself.  Jenny Agutter is pretty good, too, as a well-meaning woman that has no idea what she's gotten into.

The real star of the show, though, is the special effects.  The work done to Jack throughout is fantastic.  When he first shows up as a talking corpse, he looks pretty awesome.  In most movies, this would be the special effects scene you would be talking about.  But, in each successive appearance in the film, his body continues to rot, giving him a progressively more shocking appearance each time.  He's not the only one, though.  All the victims look awesomely gory, and they all come back to haunt David, although some are more polite than others.  This movie was made in 1981, so the effects are entirely done with make-up and prosthetics; the scenes where David transforms are obviously done with a lot of special effects.  These scenes don't look particularly realistic, but they are obviously high quality.  Despite the movie's age, I would put these effects at least on par with the recent Wolfman remake.  It's also nice to see that, in wolf form, David looks like a scary beast.

This movie isn't really scary, but it is definitely gory.  I liked the little touches of humor throughout and like the modern twist on this classic tale.  The soundtrack shows some dark humor, with tracks like "Blue Moon," "Bad Moon Rising" and "Moondance," but I was disappointed that "Werewolves of London" was not included.  Yes, it's obvious, but it's still awesome.  And his hair was perfect.  The humor doesn't detract from the grimness of the tale, with David's death seeming to be the only possible ending to the tale.  While I haven't done extensive research in the werewolf film sub-genre, I'm going to go out on a limb and say that this is the most entertaining werewolf movie of the past thirty years.

For more opinions on Landis' work, check out the link to some LAMB reviews: