Kill the Irishman

Biopics are an oddity for me in the film world.  On the one hand, there is something inherently fascinating with a life that is so large that it actually makes sense for it to be on the big screen.  And that's good.  On the other hand, most biopics play it loose with their pacing, typically relying on the life and death of the main character instead of imposing a dramatic arc to the story.  And that's bad.  I didn't realize that Kill the Irishman was a biopic at first --- shame on me for not reading the tagline --- I was just intrigued by a movie with a fairly big-name supporting cast.

Kill the Irishman is the story of Danny Greene (Ray Stevenson).  Danny started out as a lowly dock worker in Cleveland who happened to be a bit of a tough guy with a soft heart for his fellow poor Irish-Americans.  What should you do if you find yourself in a bit of trouble with the mob?  Interrupt Danny having sex and have him settle the dispute for you, obviously. 

Or...maybe wait fifteen minutes

Actually, that little bit doesn't play a major part in the film, but it felt so odd that I had to bring it up.  Danny strong arms (or face-slaps) his way to a union leader position on the docks, but is eventually ousted for illegal activities.  But you can't keep a good Irishman down, as he eventually works his back to power in another union, with the support of low-level mobster John Nardi (Vincent D'Onofrio). 

Mafia soldiers have to earn their neckties

Once he gets a taste of power and all the respect and happiness (and money) that brings, Danny starts his own Irish mob and acts as a low-level enforcer group.  Things get a little dicey when Danny borrows money from the New York mob to build a legitimate restaurant and the money never arrives; the courier is busted by police on drug charges.  The New York mob wants their money back, but Danny refuses to pay because he never received the money, so the title comes into play.  If you've ever seen a mobster movie before, you can guess the rest.  Hint: car bombs and gunfire play prominent roles in the third act of the film.

I haven't really seen much of Ray Stevenson's work, but he seems like a perfectly serviceable tough guy.  He appears tough, looks mean, and handles his lines capably.  Not outstanding work, but not bad.  Vincent D'Onofrio, on the other hand, took a fairly dull role and gave it some life.  If his part was written just a bit better, I would have really enjoyed his performance.  Similarly, Christopher Walken shows up as a money man and is amusing, as always; aside from speaking the line "Kill the Irishman," though, it's a pretty forgettable performance. 

"Insert movie title here"

 He's not the only one to basically tread water in his performance.  Val Kilmer does his best impression of a "before" photo for P90X as he plays a somewhat disinterested and slowly swelling police officer following Danny Greene's misdeeds.  The oddest part about Kilmer's role is that he provides occasional narration, implying that he is either supposed to know more or be more important than he actually is in this film.  Linda Cardenelli got to play Wife #1 for Greene; I like Cardenelli well enough, but this is just a cookie-cutter role that she adds nothing to. 

Biopic Wife #1, Phase 3: disenchantment and nagging, ahoy!

Vinnie Jones and Marcus Thomas round out the principal cast as Danny's somewhat nondescript underlings.  However, there are still an absolute ton of recognizable faces in this cast.  Paul Sorvino, Robert Davi, Tony Darrow, Steve Schirripa, Mike Starr and Tony Lo Bianco all play bit parts as mobsters in this film; that's not a stretch for any of them, given their collective mob movie history.  These guys provide bits of reassurance when you're watching --- maybe their performances are solid, or maybe the roles are such a comfortable fit for them --- so you don't actually mind that most of them are simply playing mobster stereotypes.  Why did so many movie mobsters decide to have bit roles in Kill the Irishman?  I don't know, but the film is better for their presence.

Kill the Irishman was directed and co-written by Jonathan Hensleigh.  The film is told in a coherent enough fashion, although you might expect a little more art if you've been spoiled by Coppola or Scorsese mob flicks.  My biggest gripe is that the story is so familiar.  I get it, this is based on a true story.  That doesn't mean that it has to be entirely predictable.  The script isn't even clever or filled with memorable characters, either; there is nothing about this story that stands out, aside from the main mobster being Irish.  Hell, I bet 40% of the script has stage directions for the actors to scowl.

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I will give credit where it is due, though.  While I admit that the sheer number of explosions in this film seem ridiculous, that particular period in Cleveland crime was rife with car bombs, so "A" for historical accuracy on that count.  I also liked seeing so many familiar faces playing mobsters in this movie; none of them were spectacular, but it looked like they were having fun overacting. 

Except Kilmer, who never appears to have fun in movies

Hensleigh doesn't do a bad job with Kill the Irishman, but he does turn out a mostly forgettable film.  The movie isn't worth watching for fancy direction or great acting, and the story is pretty basic stuff.  It could have been worse, but a story about a guy who takes on the mob could be so much better than this.

The Stuff

I had never heard of The Stuff until by buddy Danny O'D recommended it to me for my month of horror reviews.  I've seen a lot of horror movies, but Dan is my go-to guy for horror, so when he says that I'll like a horror movie, I usually take his word for it.

The Stuff opens with some redneck miners, giving Death the middle finger by heading into the underground labyrinth/health spa that is their job.  One particularly hillbillied redneck stops to notice some white goo bubbling from the ground.  What would you do in this situation?  If you answered "taste the goo," then get back in the mine, you hillbilly slacker!  Personally, my first (admittedly uneducated) assumption about white goo coming from the earth is that it is planetary semen (AKA Earth jism), so putting it in my mouth would be toward the bottom of my to-do list.  I am not much of a 'billy, though, and this miner ate it up.  And it was good!  So good, in fact, he convinced his friend to have some.  And he liked it, too!  A jump cut later, and we are in the near future, where The Stuff is the number one consumer product on the market.  It's sweet, it's creamy, it's filling, and it has zero calories --- no wonder America "can't get enough --- of The Stuff!"

Not even trannie spokespeople can derail The Stuff

There is just one problem...The Stuff isn't good for you.  It's highly addictive and even has a limited ability to control people who have eaten too much Stuff.  Once it's had its way with you, The Stuff will ooze out of your body, leaving a hollowed-out corpse behind.  Where does it go?  Um.  Home, maybe?  To be honest, that part isn't really explained.

One particularly mediocre child actor, Jason (Scott Bloom), realizes the danger The Stuff poses and starts to act out.  He knocks over hundreds of dollars of Stuff at the grocery store and refuses to eat The Stuff at home, even though that's all his family is eating.

Trust me, son --- I want to see you dead with white stuff on your face

Meanwhile, Mo Rutherford (Michael Moriarty) is hired by the ice cream industry to steal the secret of The Stuff, because their sales have been so negatively impacted by this new craze.  Mo is an industrial saboteur/blackmailer/former FBI agent that seems pretty stupid with his thick-enough-to-cut Southern drawl, but he's actually a clever, likable guy.  He manages to befriend fellow dessert-employed investigator Famous Amos Chocolate Chip Charlie (Garrett Morris) and seduce The Stuff's head of marketing, Nicole (Andrea Marcovicci), with shockingly little effort on his part.  After seeing the effects of The Stuff on normal people --- and surviving an attack from some rogue Stuff --- Mo decides that his key to success is a dim-witted child, so he rescues Jason from his Stuff-controlled parents.  Mo has assembled a marketing expert with terrible taste (Nicole) and a child (Jason) to aid his investigation, and has sent a cookie spokesperson (three guesses) to contact the FBI.  Normally, this assembling of the main characters would happen toward the climax of the film, but The Stuff reaches this point within the first thirty minutes.  What could the next hour have in store?  More Stuff.

In many ways, The Stuff is a stupid, stupid movie.  Most of the characters are slow on the uptake at best, and significantly handicapped at worst.  The special effects range from pretty good to "that's obviously a green screen," although it is the easiest effects that often look the worst.  For instance, goo filling a room gets the noticeably bad green screen treatment...

...while Garrett Morris's head expanding gets some solid (although not frightening) practical effects. 

While I was surprised at how well the plot holds up (considering is begins with hillbillies getting a money shot from the Earth), there are many stupid moments in it:

• When Mo has a glob of Stuff on his face, smothering him, Nicole says "Hold on, I'll burn it;" by "it," I assume she means his face.  Remarkably, his face and hair are none the worse for wear after having flaming Stuff on them.
• As it becomes known that Mo is investigating The Stuff, a Stuff-branded truck tries to run him over in the street.  Sneaky!  Sadly, the vehicular homicide subplot is quickly dropped.
• There are hundreds of Dairy Queen-like shops that exclusively sell The Stuff.  Okay, so maybe we'll see Stuff concoctions, like a Stuff pie, or a Stuff cone, or Stuff with Reese's Pieces in it, right?  Nope.  You get the same pint container that you buy from the grocery store.  All you get from these locations is a plastic spoon to go with it.
• Okay, you're a kid trying to spy on The Stuff factory.  You climb on a tanker truck to hear the employees talk, but are forced to hide or you will be discovered.  Where do you go?  If you said "inside the tanker," you deserve whatever happens next.

To be completely honest with you, though, The Stuff is surprisingly fun to watch.  The acting isn't great by any means, but it is certainly interesting.  I'm not too familiar with Michael Moriarty, but I was fairly certain that I would hate his stupid twang and frequently explained nickname after the first scene.  Remarkably, Moriarty kept the ridiculous accent up for the entire movie, complete with some unusual cadences and a nearly permanent smirk --- and, even more remarkably, I actually ended up liking his goofy-ass performance here.  I'm still not entirely sure why. 

I'm pretty sure his next line is "Hyuk, hyuk."

Garrett Morris isn't in much of the movie, but he was perfectly fine.  Andrea Marcovicci and Scott Bloom were both pretty wretched, though. 

Mild disinterest is the best he can do

There are a decent number of notable bit parts in this movie.  Paul Sorvino plays a nutty right-wing colonel with more of a straight face than the role probably required.  Danny Aiello get mauled by his Stuff-fueled dog.  Patrick O'Neal not only got his name featured in the credits with a box around it (80s cast credits were weird), but he also got to play a weaselly executive.  There is a fake ad for The Stuff that features Abe Vigoda in it; it's not a great part, but it was enough for me to say "Oh, hey...Abe Vigoda.  Huh."  If you have a good eye, you can spot some no-dialogue cameos from the very young Eric Bogosian (in the supermarket) and Patrick Dempsey (the street thug at the very end with what looks like a perm).

The Stuff has many aspects that place it within the horror genre, but it's not a very good horror movie.  There is no suspense or scares.  There is some pretty decent gore, especially when Stuff-controlled people get their heads caved in; as one soldier comments, "I kind of like the sight of blood, but this is disgusting."

Above: a novelty SNL toothpaste dispenser

Writer/director Larry Cohen seems to realize this, and has made a pretty decent horror/comedy instead.  This is a poorly/cheaply made film, with several scenes of dialogue obviously being overdubbed and a few moments where a supporting cast member seems to flub their lines but still continue on.  What sets this apart from other crappy horror movies that try to be funny is the fact that it is actually decently amusing.  The gags aren't great, but there is a little wit in there, and some light satire of our consumer culture.  Perhaps the most important thing about The Stuff is that the main actors are committed to the silliness of this story; they could have tried to play this straight as a monster-type movie, but I thought Moriarty in particular did a good job matching the film's tone.  Admittedly, The Stuff isn't much of a horror movie, but it is good choice for a not-too-scary, not-too-gory 80s horror flick, especially if you want to break a youngster into the genre gently.  I imagine that if I saw The Stuff as a child, it would have been an early favorite.

GoodFellas

When GoodFellas, a mobster story that spanned over thirty years, was released in 1990, Ray Liotta was 36 years old and his co-stars, Robert DeNiro and Joe Pesci, were both 47.  When they first pop up in the movie, they are supposed to be in their early twenties (except DeNiro, who was supposed to be around thirty).  Sure, they aged somewhat throughout the film, but until you see DeNiro put on reading glasses in the last quarter of the movie, it's pretty insignificant stuff.  I point this out because most movies would take strides to make these actors look younger, a la Patrick Stewart in X-Men Origins: Wolverine. Why doesn't director Martin Scorsese bother to disguise the age of his actors?  Probably for the same reason most viewers don't notice it: because this is a cool movie and, like the wise guys they portray, these actors can get away with murder as far as America's concerned.

This is the life story of Henry Hill (Ray Liotta), an Irish kid in New York whose life dream was to be a mobster.  At a young age, he began to run (often illegal) errands for the local mob boss, Paulie Cicero (Paul Sorvino).  As he grew older, he befriended the hot-tempered Tommy DeVito (Joe Pesci) and the danger-loving Jimmy "The Gent" Conway (Robert DeNiro).  Together, they began hijacking trucks and lived life as young men with money often do; they drank all night, went to clubs, and enjoyed female companionship.  This continued for years, and was capped by Henry's courtship and marriage to a local girl, Karen (Lorraine Brocco).  This movie is clearly a love letter to the mobster lifestyle, with all its freedom, power and vices.  That much freedom, power and vice left unchecked will inevitably lead to a desire for more of each, though.  As Henry and his friends moved from up-and-comers in their mob family to essentially independent operators, their adventures are played for higher stakes.  Hijacking trucks with willing drivers gave way to multimillion dollar heists, organized by Jimmy.  Instead of sticking with low-risk enterprises like gambling, Henry started dealing drugs. And Tommy...well, his temper started to become the stuff of legend.  With higher stakes, the lifestyle became less friendly and more dangerous, less about the crew and more about survival.


What makes GoodFellas a great movie is its attitude.  The film opens with Ray Liotta's voice-over, famously claiming that "as far back as I can remember, I always wanted to be a gangster."   That's pretty different from most film portrayals of mobsters, right?  Even in The Godfather, Michael never wanted in on the "family business."  Anyone can understand the allure of money and power, but even the most romanticized mob films show a horrible price to be paid for such indulgences.  That eventual comeuppance is inevitable for any big time gangster, but the attraction toward that danger is what sets this movie apart from its mob movie brethren.  We watch Henry Hill, Tommy DeVito, and Jimmy Conway do whatever they want to whoever they want for decades, just waiting for the hammer to eventually drop.  And when it does, there is no moment of repentance or remorse.  We just get Ray Liotta's voice-over again, telling us how ordinary civilian life, free from drugs, police, murder, and betrayal is basically for schmucks.  And we agree with him.

Interesting tidbit: GoodFellas drops about 300 F-bombs in its 145 minute run, averaging over 2 "fucks" per minute, the ninth most for any feature film. While cursing is certainly not a benchmark for quality cinema, that is an astonishing number.

The acting and directing in this movie is superb.  While Scorsese is not at his showiest here, he handles things well and oftentimes puts the camera in a position so that the viewer feels like more of a spectator, which just reconfirms the movie's fascination with the wise guy lifestyle.  As for the acting, Joe Pesci deservedly won the Best Supporting Actor Oscar for his role.  He was loud, obnoxious, and occasionally frightening with his nonchalant attitude toward violence.  And yet, he managed to be kind of funny.  That's a tough balance to strike.  Ray Liotta is certainly more sympathetic in the lead role, but his character's purpose is to react to the mob lifestyle, so his solid performance pales in comparison to his co-lead actors.  Lorraine Brocco did a pretty good job in her supporting role, but I think she usually gets too little credit for her role in the movie; as Karen, she not only provides the "civilian" reactions to the wise guy life, but she shares the narrative.  Karen's role is often overlooked because this is such a guy movie, but the movie is told from her point of view, too, and Brocco's performance (particularly with her voice-overs) helps keep this movie from spinning into a caricature of mob life.  As far as the rest of the cast goes, they're serviceable.  Paul Sorvino is capable of some surprisingly imposing silences, but he's the highlight of the supporting cast.  Michael Imperioli and Samuel L. Jackson both make noteworthy cameos, though.

I enjoy this movie on a lot of levels, but it has never been one of my favorite Scorsese films.  Sure, it's pretty awesome, but it's soooooo looooooong!  It's not even super long at 146 minutes, but it feels about as long as The Return of the King.  Why?  I'm not sure.  Aside from using the camera to follow characters like they're celebrities, Scorsese's direction is pretty cut and dried.  The problem is certainly not the acting.  Both DeNiro and Pesci are fascinating to watch.  I think my problem with this film is the position it takes.  Not the moral position of celebrating an outlaw culture; that's pretty cool.  I'm talking about the point-of-view character.  While Henry is part of the action, he's never the most interesting character on the screen.  He's kind of like Smalls from The Sandlot, watching the greatness of Benny the Jet.  Lots of movies choose a voyeuristic POV character, but since this movie is (more or less) set up as a Henry Hill biopic, I think his character should be the most interesting cast member.  Would this movie work better from Jimmy or Tommy's point of view?  Not as the story stands, no.  I just think that, in a biopic-type movie, the main character's accomplishments should be the most dramatic and memorable ones; if you want to use a less memorable character to tell the story, fine, but use the movie to frame a more compact set of events.  As it stands, though, I see this a a major failure in the storytelling department.

Aside from my admittedly unusual personal problem with this movie, GoodFellas is an unabashed classic.  There has never been a film that depicted the life of a mobster so gloriously, and yet showed all the horror that comes with it.  For that, it deserves all the respect it has earned over the years.  Aside from The Godfather Part II, this might be the ultimate gangster movie.  It's not a masterpiece, though, with all due respect.