March 2008
Gone Baby Gone
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Gone Baby Gone Casey Affleck, Morgan Freeman, Ed Harris 4.5 out of 5 stars Reviewed for Coffeerooms by Mike Jefferson |
Don’t cringe or chuckle when you see Ben Affleck’s name on the screen followed by the unlikely titles of director and screenwriter. “Gone Baby Gone” is a much better film than almost everything Affleck’s ever acted in, and it owes its success to a brilliant cast and Affleck’s ability to turn the suburbs of Boston into a central character.
The opening of “Gone Baby Gone” sets the viewer down in the middle of a media circus. A child, Amanda McCready, is missing from one of Boston’s congested, working class neighborhoods. Helene, her single drug huffing mom (marvelously trashy Amy Ryan), puts on a concerned front for the cameras, but in private, lounging on the couch in her seedy apartment, she’s more concerned about where her next high is coming from than her daughter’s safe return. Amanda’s aunt (tough love personified in the person of Amy Madigan) and uncle (working stiff Titus Welliver) hire a pair of young private investigators, Patrick Kenzie and Angie Gennaro (boyish Casey Affleck, and the brains of the outfit, Amy Monaghan) to supplant the police department’s search, which after three days appears to have already reached a dead end.
The two P.I.s work with a pair of detectives, unsupportive, tightly wound Remy Bressant (another top flight portrayal by Ed Harris), and bearish Nick Poole, (seasoned pro John Ashton). The teams are supervised by Captain Jack Doyle (the always authoritative Morgan Freeman). This Captain Jack won’t get you high tonight -- Freeman’s Doyle is a decorated veteran who gets results and is as skeptical as Bressant of Kenzie’s abilities:
Doyle (speaking to Angie): How old is he?
Angie: Thirty-one. He just looks young for his age.
Doyle: He may look young, but if he wants to work this case, he’d better not act it.
While grilling Helene, the investigators discover a jarringly plausible reason for Amanda’s disappearance – Helene and her junkie boyfriend stole $130,000 from local drug lord “Cheese” (As in “The big…”). Cheese is conveyed by Bernie Mac double Edi Gathegi, who’s about as threatening as a stoned Teletubby, even after he pulls out a gat as big as one of Bob Marley’s spliffs. With the exception of one crucial line, Gathegi’s ganja-dipped diction is simply too hard to follow. When questioned by Kenzie, Cheese vehemently denies kidnapping Amanda, coming up with the movie’s signature line (and title): “If that girl’s only hope is you I pray for her because she’s gone, baby, gone…”
Cheese flips, supposedly fessing up to Captain Doyle in a taped conversation that he’s got Amanda and he’s willing to trade the child for his money. Remy, Nick, Kenzie and Angie arrange to make the exchange at a quarry, but gunfire rings out in the dark, Cheese winds up with more holes in him than his namesake (Swiss), and Amanda is believed to have drowned. The case is closed, leaving Kenzie and Angie to deal with their guilt at having failed to save Amanda.
Days later, a young boy is abducted in Dorchester. Kenzie is pulled into the new case by an informant who knows where the boy is being held. Contacting Remy and Nick, the three men attempt to free the boy and bring the pedophile holding him to justice. Approaching the house, the trio gets involved in a deadly shootout. As Remy tries to get in from the back, Kenzie storms through the front door. Shooting it out with an irate junkie, Kenzie blasts his way to the upstairs chamber of horrors where the boy is being held captive. What Kenzie finds curdles his insides, and drives him to commit an unspeakable act he would have deemed impossible before Amanda’s disappearance. Speaking afterward with Bressant, Kenzie wonders if he did the right thing. Under the influence of the bottle they’re sharing, Bressant admits he once planted an evidence to save an abused child:
Bressant: …So I went back in there. I out an ounce of heroin on the living room floor and I sent the father on a ride, seven to life.
Kenzie: That was the right thing to do?
Bressant: F****in’ A! You got to take a side! You molest a child, you beat a child and you’re not on my side. If you see me coming you’d better run because I’m gonna lay you the f**k down!
You might think “Gone Baby Gone” is history after the shootout when the loose ends for both cases appear to be tied up. But Kenzie discovers Bressant knew about Cheese’s stolen money before he did and the taped conversation between Cheese and Doyle never happened because the police aren’t allowed to tap the precinct phone. Doyle’s earlier statement to Kenzie that he’d lost his own daughter when she was kidnapped and wouldn’t lose Amanda sticks in Kenzie’s craw and becomes the impetus for his own investigation into the web of lies surrounding Amanda’s disappearance and death.
“Gone Baby Gone” proves that the best actors make their characters so realistic they’re not playing a role, they’re living it. Even the neighborhood toughs, non actors who inhabit the Fillmore Bar, play convincing rummies who’d rather administer a fearful beat down than betray a friend. As Detective Remy Bressant, Ed Harris plays a hardened veteran of the streets who’s not afraid to plant evidence or resort to blackmail in order to solve a case. To him, it’s a war of attrition between the cops and the dregs that make their living off of innocent people, and the dregs are winning. Harris is clenched anger and determination, once a hero who became a bully so focused on winning he doesn’t care who he has to bulldoze to achieve his goal. Harris remains one of the screen’s most convincing character actors, with or without the hairpiece.
Casey Affleck’s tense Patrick Kenzie serves as a surprisingly game foil to Harris’ Bressant. Kenzie’s by-the-book morality complicates his relationship with Angie and puts another character’s future in jeopardy. When the moral compass swings in Kenzie’s direction, you’ll either say “No he didn’t!” or applaud Kenzie’s actions.
A slight kick in the pants of the film’s credibility is Affleck’s lack of physical stature. Let’s face it, Casey’s youthful David Byrne features make him look like he’s barely legal, but his brother, Ben, skillfully weaves Kenzie’s less than fearful appearance into the plot. When the liquored up denizens of the Fillmore lock the door on Kenzie and Angie and one volunteers to show Angie a good time, rail-thin, bug-eyed Kenzie pistol whips him, backing out of the door while still verbally jousting with the mountainous bartender. Most scripts would call for the hero to mop the floor with the foul-mouthed patrons and walk out proudly with the girl on his arm, but the characters in “Gone Baby Gone” are refreshingly real. Cracking a salivating would-be rapist in the skull with a gun barrel is hardly heroic, even if he deserves the headache, but it’s a true to life response. Kenzie is lucky to get out of the bar with his skin and he knows it, hyperventilating nervously after he and Angie escape.
My only complaints about Affleck’s actual performance are minimal. (You know me, I gotta complain about something!) Despite the plots intricate twists and turns, despite having committed an act in direct conflict to Kenzie’s moral code, Affleck’s conflicting emotions seldom register on his face. Sometimes his expression shifts to a frozen mask of anxiety, making Affleck look like a constipated wax figure. The puppet can act, but there has to be something going on internally -- Kenzie’s tortured dialogue tells us so, so there should be more going on externally than a twitch or a grimace. It’s disconcerting that life changing events that would have shattered even the grittiest individual seemingly bounce off of Kenzie’s heart like bullets hitting Superman’s chest. If anything, Kenzie becomes more steadfast in his beliefs, when his recent experiences should have made him realize life can’t always be judged by section three of the penal code. I was also perplexed by Affleck’s Boston accent, an over boiled, forced “park the cah in Havard yahd” parroting at the beginning of the movie. (It’s as if Affleck wanted to tap the audience on the shoulder and say, “See, we’re in Boston”). Affleck frequently loses his accent and sounds less genuine than Amy Ryan, which is ironic, given he’s a Boston native and Ryan’s accent is a well rehearsed and accurate put on.
The drugged-up, fed-up, screwed up Helene portrayed by Amy Ryan is the type of tough Bostonian I knew when I went college -- potty-mouthed, neglectful of her friends and family and loyal to whomever has the next hit or snort -- A real joy to be around! You think New Yorkers are tough? Try living in Dorchester or one of Boston’s other closely knit Irish neighborhoods. Helene is the type of woman you want to like. She’s obviously got it rough -- she’s raising a daughter on her own for starters -- but she’s too much of a self-absorbed party hound to care about her child or anyone else. Ryan nails every despicable facet of her character, the drug abuse, lack of conscience or responsibility, and whorish lifestyle. When you listen to Ryan talk about her character in the film’s extras and realize she’s the exact opposite of Helene, you’ll breathe a sigh of relief, and then wonder why her challenging performance didn’t win an Oscar.
Amy Monaghan can watch my back in a fight anytime. She’s the opposite of Helene, equally tough, but ingrained with a keen sense of right and wrong. She deplores Helene’s slutty lifestyle and is reluctant to take the case because she doesn’t want to see Amanda’s body in a dumpster (where she fears it already is) or hear that the little girl was abused. Monaghan looks like your best friend’s sister, the neighborhood girl you know will wind up with 2.5 kids and a seat on the P.T.A.
I’m convinced Morgan Freeman could play an authority figure from the grave. He’s played teachers, friars, the President of the United States … He’s played God, for God’s sakes. His effortless but effective performance bubbles beneath the surface of the countless plot twists, and he’s even off-screen for a healthy portion of the film, which makes him appear as if he’s one of the few characters without a secret agenda.
John Ashton’s authority lies in his hulking physical presence. His Nick Poole is Bressant’s loyal conspirator right or wrong. Amy Madigan is unrecognizable as Bea McCready, Amanda’s aunt and the family’s moral center who cares more about her niece than her own mother. Madigan’s maternal moral fiber is an amusing contrast to Ryan’s anything goes tramp and the two actresses tear each other apart with the type of verbal skill only relatives who genuinely hate each other share. When they’re on screen together the claws and salty insults come out and everyone within ear shot had best be prepared to have their ears singed.
Titus Welliver may not be a name that comes trippingly off of the lips, but I can guarantee you’ll recognize his face (Silas Adams in “Deadwood” and Dr. Eric Hackett in “That’s Life”). Unlike Affleck, when Welliver affects his heavy working man’s Bostonian accent it stays with him throughout the picture. Welliver’s Lionel McCready makes a point of telling everyone he “Put the plug in the jug twenty-three years ago,” automatically making him a more sympathetic and caring character than Helene. Watching Welliver’s dutiful Uncle Lionel slowly crumble as he downs shots of Cutty Sark is one of the film’s most difficult and revealing scenes.
The title of Ben Affleck’s major motion picture directorial debut may be “Gone Baby Gone,” but his career as a major talent behind the camera is just beginning… baby.
Posted March 22, 2008 Permalink
American Gangster
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American Gangster Denzel Washington, Russell Crowe, Josh Brolin 4 out of 5 stars Reviewed for Coffeerooms by Mike Jefferson |
When I was a young troublemaker, I loved gangster movies. Our gang of neighborhood roughnecks spent entire afternoons imitating Jimmy Cagney (“You durdee raaaat”) or Edward G Robinson (“You’re gonna get it, seeee!”). I still get goose bumps every time Duke Mantee (played by Humphrey Bogart), slithers onto the screen for the first time in “Petrified Forest,” or when James Caan (Sonny Corleone) drives up to the toll booth in “The Godfather.” Too bad they didn’t have Speed Pass back then, Sonny.
Imagine my joy when I heard two of my favorite actors, Denzel Washington and Russell Crowe, would be facing off in “American Gangster.” They’re not as incendiary as Cagney and Bogart (who, prior to “Maltese Falcon” always lost his confrontations with the Yankee Doodle Dandy), but Washington’s rare wrong side of the law portrayal of Harlem heroin honcho Frank Lucas is a bigger hit than the St. Valentine’s Day Massacre. Frank who?
The film would lead you to believe that Frank Lucas was so powerful the Mafia feared him. Get serious. There’s never been a non-Italian hotshot the Mafia couldn’t deal with by giving them a permanent dose of lead poisoning. Just ask Bugsy Siegel, Dion O’Bannion, Hymie Weiss or Dutch Schultz. That’s right you can’t – they didn’t live long enough to apply for AARP. The Harlem drug trade was fronted by black gangsters, but few operated for long without reaching out for the protective arm of La Cosa Nostra. (Well aware of this, Lucas forms a necessary partnership with Dominic Cattano, conveyed by the suave but cold-blooded Armand Assante.)
One of the most powerful figures in Harlem in the 60s and 70s was Nicky Barnes, portrayed in the film as a strutting buffoon in a series of career-boosting cameos by Cuba Gooding, Jr. Another powerful black crime boss (perhaps the most celebrated in New York) was Lucas’s predecessor and mentor, Ellsworth “Bumpy” Johnson, (interpreted as a professorial hoodlum by Clarence Williams III). In his final years, Bumpy was apparently so agitated by corporation’s lack of concern for the consumer he should have been called Jumpy Johnson. The writers do allow that Lucas was Bumpy’s chauffer for fifteen years before the King of Harlem suffered a fatal heart attack in 1968. Viewing himself as heir apparent to the snow king, Lucas built a highly profitable business by shipping pure heroin directly from Bangkok in coffins that were supposed to be carrying the remains of soldiers killed in Vietnam. He sold his junk at K-Mart prices, and unlike Barnes, kept a low key common man profile. Apparently the only time Lucas pimped his public persona was for the benefit of his girlfriend and the audience at the Muhammad Ali-Joe Frazier fight at Madison Square Garden in 1971. The flashy garb got him noticed by curious detectives, and Lucas went from ghost to most wanted in a massive drug probe. Lucas had apparently forgotten his own credo: “The loudest one in the room is the weakest one in the room.”
“American Gangster”’s plot centers around the rise and fall of Lucas’ heroin empire. Lucas neutralizes Barnes’ overzealousness by democratically dividing their turf, is protected from upstarts by Cattano’s cavalry, and bribes his way to an uneasy truce with blatantly crooked Detective Turbo (lavishly evil Josh Brolin). Lucas brings in his family, the only people he can truly trust -- including his five brothers and countless cousins -- to run his distribution centers. His church-going mother (righteous Ruby Dee) remains the steady moral center in his life (providing what little morality he has). Like all criminals he has a soft spot for his mama, he promptly installs in his million dollar mansion alongside his former beauty queen wife (elegant Lymari Nadal). Lucas’ delicate balancing act begins to unravel when one of his cousins tries to end a lover’s quarrel by introducing several bullets into his girlfriend’s epidermis. Detective Ritchie Roberts (Crowe, successfully battling through his lack of character development) cuts a deal with Lucas’ cousin to wear a wire, spelling trouble for the unsuspecting arm candy king.
Lucas’ hatred of blackmailing Turbo has festered since the crooked cop and his posturing posse first pulled his limo over on his wedding day. Lucas endured Turbo’s first gusty shakedown for his bride’s sake, but let the foul flatfoot know he wasn’t going to be his wussy cash machine by turning Turbo’s prized Mustang into shrapnel. Turbo pulls Lucas over a second time, this time in the company of Huey, who nervously tells his brother there’s a shipment of heroin in the trunk and they’re not going to get off by buying a few chances to the policeman’s ball. Turbo flexes his muscles, pressing his advantage, but Lucas displays a cool under fire that promises a bullet-riddled death if Turbo even considers harming him or his family.
Turbo (spotting the drugs):What are we gonna do about this?
Frank Lucas:We close it up, throw it back in the trunk. Everybody goes home for some apple pie and cider.
Turbo: I got a better idea. Or would you rather I throw you and your brother in the f****ing river?
Lucas: Or would you rather your house blows up next time?
Turbo (confiscating the drugs): I loved that car.
Lucas: I know.
Denzel Washington chalks up another sterling performance as Frank Lucas. In reality, the real Frank Lucas was an illiterate, vicious thug without Washington’s measured mannerisms or photogenic profile. Washington’s love affair with the camera turns Lucas into a romantic figure, an innovator, kingpin and a family man, a person teenagers are bound to envy and admire. (So much so that Lucas’ nephew, a highly touted baseball prospect, blows off a chance to audition for the Yankees because he likes Lucas’ lifestyle. “I want what you got Uncle Frank. I want to be you.”) Through a series of flashbacks and a startling confrontation between Lucas and local drug dealer “Tango” (bullying Idris Elba), director Ridley Scott reminds the audience that beneath his lord of the street guise, Frank Lucas is just another dispassionate killer. When Tango and Lucas meet shortly after Bumpy Johnson’s death with the Harlem drug trade still up for grabs, Tango demands a 20% cut from Lucas, who boldly refuses and walks away, exposing his back to Tango without fear of finding a round of .45 shells in it. When Lucas becomes undisputed monarch of the marching dust trade and the balance of reverence is reversed, he confronts Tango on a crowded street corner demanding his 20% share of Tango’s profits. With Lucas’ brothers and cousins looking on, Tango laughs at Lucas, who draws his gun, pressing it against Tango’s skull. “What you gonna do? You gonna shoot me in front of everybody, Frank?” Without hesitation, Lucas presses the trigger. Tango’s skull cracks like a holiday walnut and his body hits the pavement before the surprise registers on his face and he can say “Do Over!” The act is sudden, bold, and brutal, exposing the crouching beast within Lucas, and serves as a reminder that a thug is still a thug, even if he dresses and talks like a prince. When Frank Lucas calls someone “My man,” they clearly aren’t, and should think about purchasing body armor.
The action grounds to a halt whenever Crowe’s saint in the city character Ritchie Roberts is the center of attention. His early scenes are a set up for his twenty minute confrontation with the charismatic Lucas, and Roberts’ story arc doesn’t take off until midway trough the film when he forms the Essex County Narcotics Squad and begins building his case against the coke connoisseur. Prior to that you have to sit through Roberts babysitting his junkie partner, watch as he sweats out the obvious outcome of his bar exams, squirm as he dickers with his wife over visitation rights, and witness his discomfort whenever he’s asked why he turned in $987,000 in cash when any other cop would have bought themselves a boat. Compared to Lucas’ adventure-a-minute lifestyle, Roberts’ story crawls, qualifying as bathroom break material.
With Washington and Crowe, “American Gangster” sports the most star-studded pairing since “Heat,” the 1995 action thriller that starred Robert DeNiro and Al Pacino. Like “Heat,” the principals in “American Gangster” don’t meet until the action is a fait accompli and one character clearly has an advantage over another. In their first scene together, the two actors (who were paid more than the GNP for some countries) don’t even exchange any dialogue – just knowing glances. In the next few scenes Washington and Crowe are simply playing mop up; the story is essentially over. As a result, their interaction is appreciated but flat.
Washington and Crowe starred together before in 1995’s “Virtuosity.” If you remember the movie, you still may not recollect that a steely-eyed Crowe played a virtual villain, a holographic homicidal horror. The movie didn’t have much virtue, due to a script as stiff as Crowe’s robotic posture. Both actors have done better work than they present here (especially Crowe). Crowe proved he could handle the daunting task of playing a feckless underdog in 2005’s “Cinderella Man,” the not exactly factual story of boxer Jim Braddock, and he commanded the screen as ruthless bank robbing bushwhacker Ben Wade in the credible remake of “5:10 to Yuma.” The previously squeaky clean Washington showed his versatility as a drugging, slugging, thugging street smart detective in “Training Day,” and still played his typically wholesome roles in “Remember the Titans” and “The Manchurian Candidate.” At times the two actors are forced to move “American Gangster” forward with sheer will and talent (it clocks in at 2:40), but unlike their previous pairing they get plenty of help from the supporting cast.
The plot is predictable as a junkie who’s just hit Lotto, and Roberts’ moral high ground stance is at times overbearingly self-serving (he and the real Frank Lucas served as advisors to the writers). But it’s the acting that keeps “American Gangster” from becoming American gagster. Ted Levine owes his presence in the film to Denzel Washington, who’s a fan of “Monk,” and suggested the actor who plays Detective Leland Stottlemeyer in the series could easily handle the role of gritty Detective Lou Toback, even without his trademark walrus moustache. There’s something to be said for typecasting. Levine is so convincing, if he walked up to me on the street I’d automatically assume the position. Speaking of credible, Josh Brolin, who gets better with every performance, gives a career-maker as corrupt Detective Turbo. Every time he slimmed across the screen I was hoping Lucas or Roberts would empty an entire clip into him. When you hate a villain that much, you know he’s doing an excellent job. Brolin recently hit an acting excellence trifecta. He was a flesh seeking villain in “Planet Terror,” outperforms Washington in “American Gangster” (and as I said, Washington is first rate), and was Oscar worthy in “No Country For Old Men,” as a trailer park vet who stumbles upon a fortune in drug money, ensuring his future will be filled with misfortune.
Chitwetel Ejiofor, the busiest (and best) black actor next to Washington, doesn’t have a lot to do in the role of Lucas’ brother Huey other than act like a rube, but the exposure should help him land a big payday in the States. The ubiquitous John Hawkes (Sol Starr in “Deadwood”), plays loose but reliable Detective Freddie Spearman in Serpico fashion, while Ruben Santiago’s “Doc” is his opposite number, a loyal soldier to his boss, Lucas. Cuba Gooding’s appearances as Nicky Barnes are brief, but he lights up the screen with bravado. As mob boss Dominic Cattano, Armand Assante smolders with old school Mafia muscle. Other notable appearances are made by Clarence Williams, who assays Bumpy Johnson as if he’s playing a gangsterized version of Yoda (and yet it works wonderfully); and gravel-throated Jon Polito as Rossi, Lucas’ Italian connection to the Mafia. (Nice to see Polito make it through a film without getting maimed or killed in an undignified manner.) Ritchie Coster stands out as Roberts’ high school buddy Joey Sadano, a made man whose relationship with Roberts could cost him his job and likely his life. Coster played emotionally detached serial killer Mark Bruner on “Law and Order” in a performance that had as much sinister zeal as Anthony Hopkins’ iconic Hannibal Lector. His lupine features make him ideal for playing psychopaths, so it’s energizing to see him play a character that’s almost human.
The ladies get short shrift, but when they’re on the screen, they prove to have as much metal as the men. There’s no way Ruby Dee deserved an Oscar for what amounts to five minutes of work, but whenever she makes an appearance as Lucas’ mother, she’s riveting. When she confronts Lucas about his “business,” her final word to her son is like a shiv to the heart:
Mother: I’ve never asked you where all this stuff (in the house) came from because I didn’t want to hear you lie to me.
Lucas: I understand, Mama. I don’t want you to worry about it. Now come on, I have to go.
(Mother slaps him).
Mother: Don’t lie to me! Don’t do that. Do you want to make things so bad for your family that they’ll leave you? Because they will.
Lucas: No, Mama. I understand.
Mother (pointing at Eva): She will leave you. I WILL LEAVE YOU!
Carla Gugino plays Roberts’ tough spouse with fed-up believability, and although Lymari Nadal (Eva) is mostly window dressing, she’s one pretty window and is downright adorable when her relationship with Lucas is still in the flirty stages.
The film has a killer soundtrack 
“American Gangster” expanded its territory when it was released on DVD and HD DVD in February. The 2-disc DVD release includes unseen footage and an extended finale. A special edition 3-disc version includes music videos, documentaries and a 32-page booklet.
Frank Lucas somehow managed to dodge a case of lead poisoning (it’s easier to do when you’re in jail), and has succeeded in accomplishing the rare feat of trafficing in drugs and death and living to a very ripe old age.. “American Gangster” is an action-filled time capsule of a period in Harlem’s history when Lucas and his perfect “Blue Magic” powder ruled the night. Enjoy the trip.
Posted March 22, 2008 Permalink
Comic Relief - The Greatest... and the Latest
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Comic Relief The Greatest... and the Latest 3.5 out of 5 stars Reviewed for Coffeerooms by Mike Jefferson |
For the past two decades, comics from all over the world have been uniting for “Comic Relief,” a laugh-a-palooza to help raise funds for the poor and needy. Shout Factory has assembled a 2-DVD set of “greatest hits” featuring clips from Gary Shandling, George Carlin, Jim Carey, Bill Maher, co-hosts Whoopi Goldberg, Robin Williams and Billy Crystal and other jokesters. The second DVD includes performances from Louis Black, Sarah Silverman, George Lopez and Ray Romano that were part of Comic Relief 2006, which provided support for the victims of Hurricane Katrina. With the exception of Black and Lopez, the second DVD is no whirlwind, but the rapid-fire clips and quips on the first DVD will leave you laughing so hard you’ll need some relief of your own.
You get the expected A.D.D. lunacy from Robin Williams, who’s at his best when ad-libbing as Billy Crystal’s talking penis or firing out rapid-fire repartee about John Bobbitt losing his. An unexpected laugh-till-your-stomach-hurts moment comes from the late Jim Varney, portraying his best known character, Ernest (“Hey Verne!”). Ernest surprises the kinky couple next door and their reaction to his intrusion provides the funniest sight gag on the DVD. Another spontaneous spurt of visual hilarity occurs between SCTV alums Catherine O’Hara and Robin Duke, who lampoon the movie “Thelma and Louise.” Duke is supposed to alternate between feeding O’Hara a sandwich, helping her puff on a cigarette, and giving her generous portions of water as she drives. Duke ends up passing everything faster than O’Hara can swallow or puff, and the sketch nearly skids completely out of control when Duke pulls the cigarette out of O’Hara’s mouth and it falls in her lap. O’Hara is supposed to say she’s swallowed it, but she obviously hasn’t because it’s burning a hole in her clothes. The two comics break up as Duke retrieves the butt and they try to pick up the routine again before the game O’Hara regurgitates or spontaneously combusts.
Louis Black, one of most intelligent topical comedians on the scene, is in full froth as he riffs on Pat Buchanan, immigration and frozen embryos. Chris Rock chews up the stage in his appearances, at one point turning non-PC subject matter into a hysterical bit through his patented emphatic inflection: “There’s a reason to hit everybody….JUST DON’T DO IT! There’s a reason to kick an old man down a flight of stairs…JUST DON’T DO IT!”
George Carlin displays his ability to take a mundane subject (in this case “stuff”) and extend it into heights of absurd brilliance: “Your house is a place to keep your stuff while you go out and get more stuff.” Gary Shandling offers some of his best self-effacing jokes: “I’m not running for President because no woman would come forward to say she slept with me.” In his appearance, hyper and hoarse George Lopez takes racial stereotypes to the woodshed: “Understand this about Latinos in the country…Everything you touch, we touch first. That spinach that was tainted? Our bad. For three dollars an hour we’re not gonna wash it too!” You’ll also get to see Dennis Miller back when he was actually funny: “Ronald Reagan, our President, is 77, at the end of his term, and he has access to the button. My grandfather is 77 and we won’t let him have access to the remote control.” Richard Lewis is amusingly neurotic, Bobcat Goldthwait is frantic and Steven Wright is droll, taking simple observations and spinning them into pleasing punch lines: “My Uncle was a clown for Ringling Brothers circus. When he died all his friends went to the funeral in one car.” And wait until you see what “America’s Funniest Home Videos” host and wholesome “Full House” actor Bob Saget pulls out of his zipper.
A number of old school comics are represented on the Best of DVD as well. Shaky and near death, the late Milton Berle still manages to deliver a zinger: “I’m not gonna stay on too late tonight, and if you believe that, you’ll believe there’s gonna be a Richard Simmons junior.” Toupee challenged Steve Allen trots out his “Man In the Street” sketch with Tom Poston, Bill Dana and Don Knotts, master of the jittery response. English comedy is represented by Peter Cook and Dudley Moore, reunited to reprise one of their comedy routines that successfully relies on Cook’s upper class diction and Moore’s talent for physical comedy. The late Alan King’s clip is short and shockingly blue, but shows his ability to poke fun at his heritage, and Don Rickles displays his rapid-fire brand of insult comedy, keeping Goldberg, Crystal, and even Williams off-guard and in stitches.
Not all of the “greatest hits” are great and there are a few artists on the second DVD who should be sweeping the stage instead of appearing on it. You’ll “Curb Your Enthusiasm” when cast member Susie Essman does her flat monologue. D.L. Hugley laughs at his jokes, but you won’t, and Kat Williams better hope his career has nine lives because his present incarnation is a case of cruelty to humans. Not everybody will love Raymond (Romano) without Peter Boyle, Doris Roberts, Patricia Heaton and Brad Garrett as his foils, and quirky, squeaky-voiced Sarah Silverman is an acquired taste, but so is hemlock.
There are appearances that’ll make you ask, “What ever happened to?...” Jon Lovitz was last spotted as former supermodel Janice Dickinson’s lover (take a number, Jon), proving that geeks with money can get lucky. He’s in his comedic prime as Tommy Flanagan “the Pathological Liar” character he spawned on Saturday Night Live. I once ran into Lovitz at Belmont Race Track. Turning to him with a winner in my hand I said, “Yeah, that’s the ticket!” He looked at me as if he wanted to sue me for copyright infringement. Just ask Andy Dick if Lovitz is as funny in person. No matter, his brief appearance is a memory funny memory swisher. Elaine Boozler goes for shock value in describing why women don’t hang out at the docks at night. Other M.I.A.’s include Sinbad, “Super Dave” Osborne, “The Pit Bull of Comedy” Bobby Slaton, and Shelly Long, posing in the audience as tourist who gets hot and bothered when she realizes she’s sitting next to Woody Harrelson.
If rude humor is your forte, there’s a gallery of gals and guys who dwell in the comic primordial ooze, such as Joan Rivers, Marsha Warfield, Rosanne Barr, Louie C. K. and Rosie O’Donnell. Although most of the selections will activate your funny bone, there are a couple of routines that should have been left on the cutting room floor. One snooze inducing routine features Eugene Levy and John Candy as the polka playing Schmenge Brothers. Lawrence Welk putting in his dentures would have been funnier. Another dead end joke that goes on for far too long involves the never funny Martin Short as Brylcreem twisted Ed Grimley. Short’s grimacing expression momentarily amuses always game for a laugh Catherine O’Hara, who’d likely crack up during the Bataan Death March, but I couldn’t wait for him to take his high-waters elsewhere.
Extra Relief
The second DVD contains Billy Crystal’s “Tribute to New Orleans,” as well as three inspirational vignettes about individuals and families touched by Hurricane Katrina that have refused to give up. The three profiles are introduced by funnyman Jeffrey Tambor, hitting a serious note when introducing the Brandenburg family, who’ve been running a fishing business in New Orleans for 22 years: “We rebuild. We don’t throw a city away. America is not disposable.” “Law and Order” cast member S. Epatha Merkerson shows her dramatic chops in introducing Leia Chase, proprietor of the Dooky Chase family restaurant. Defiant and proud, Chase promises, “I’m gonna build my community. I’m gonna get this place in order." Of the three intros it’s Rebecca Romijn who surprises the most. Whereas Tambor and Merkerson go for the dramatic throat, in introducing her segment on a group of musicians helping to rebuild the community, Romijn eases into dialogue. She’s less theatrical, letting the tragic details tell the story, and as a result, is the most effective presenter.
If you need a respite from life’s befuddling grind, try Comic Relief’s greatest hits. Just don’t try smoking, eating and drinking at the same time while watching it.
Posted March 22, 2008 Permalink
