Barry Levinson  

Toys (1992)

Toys (1992)

(In French, On Cable TV, September 2019) Some movies are like surprise bags filled with things both cool and dull, and Toys fits squarely in this category. It’s visually sumptuous, filled with interesting actors and directed with a unique vision. Alas, it’s also juvenile when it shouldn’t, thematically wobbly and often not as witty as it thinks it is. Set in a world not quite like ours, it features a rich toymaker bequeathing his company to his military brother rather than his eccentric son. As we may expect, toy production soon takes a back seat to war machines, with the just-as-expected son fighting back. On paper, it’s not much and one of the worse aspects of the film is how it eventually becomes tiresome once the visuals become familiar. But that would be dismissing far too easily the power of those visuals, especially in the first act: For the art direction of the film (written and directed by Barry Levinson) is deliciously off-beat, inserting strange and whimsical visuals in contexts where we wouldn’t expect them. A lot of it harkens back to Magritte paintings, including an over-the-top spoof of MTV videos. The dynamo at the centre of it all is Robin Williams, in a curiously subdued performance. The supporting cast includes Joan Cusack, Robin Wright, L. L. Cool J as a hilariously overprepared military man and Jamie Foxx in his first (small) role … and Debi Mazar in a short but striking role as a libidinous nurse. Unfortunately, the result is less than its components: While the film isn’t exactly aimed at kids, it does feature a simplistic plot and an anti-war moral sense that eventually turns against itself when the heroes go to war against their opponents. There are several cute fillips in the plot, but it still comes across as a witty setting let down by a less-than-witty script. I’ll grant that the film was unusually prescient in some aspects: its discussion of swarms of “toy” war machines controlled by teenagers eerily prefigures the military drone era. But the disappointment with the rest of the script is real—it never transforms its fascinating weirdness into more than a merely satisfying narrative experience, and that’s a wasted opportunity. Still, let’s admire the audacity of the visuals, most of them achieved without CGI: I bet that a remake would look very, very different today.

Good Morning, Vietnam (1987)

Good Morning, Vietnam (1987)

(In French, On TV, August 2019) The latter half of the 1980s was an interesting time for American Vietnam movies. If you accept that most of the 1970s were wasted denying that there was even a war, that the early 1980s were a time for anger (as per Rambo and Chuck Norris’ Missing in Action), then the late 1980s were a grab-bag of depression (Full Metal Jacket) and acceptance (Platoon, Casualties of War), then Good Morning, Vietnam looks a lot like bargaining: “Sure, we’ll set a movie in Vietnam and acknowledge our losses, but we’ll turn it in a wacky radio jock comedy!” OK, so that’s being a bit unfair—while Good Morning, Vietnam is among the quintessential Robin Williams movies solely for the characteristic riffs he performs early on (you can feel the script stop and the improv begin), it also sets the stage for a more sober look at the conflict in the film’s last third, as our observer protagonist finally feels involved in the events. The result is still a provocative blend of comedy to ease viewers into a somewhat even-handed depiction of the war, deftly using Williams’ natural gift to make a film that would have been impossible with another actor. While the focus is often on the comedy, director Barry Levinson doesn’t skimp on the portrayal of the war itself—there’s a twenty-second tracking shot of helicopters at the end of the “It’s a Wonderful World” sequence that would fit in any other Vietnam movie, comedy or not. There is a formulaic nature to Good Morning, Vietnam, sure, but it’s more than offset by a successful execution. The result is still a gripping, funny, very enjoyable film even decades later.

The Natural (1984)

The Natural (1984)

(On Cable TV, April 2019) Much as baseball is the great American pastime, I’m starting to suspect that baseball movies are the great American cinematic comfort food. Americans understand the rules, they know the game inside-out, they are comfortable with the pacing and they will find the tiniest of evidence to prove that baseball is life and life is baseball. Or something like that. Watching The Natural isn’t quite as mystical as other baseball movies (Looking at you, Field of Dreams), but it’s still not quite realistic, not quite ordinary, not quite believable either. (A prologue with a bat being carved out of wood felled by a lightning strike at least establishes the tone early.)  What The Natural does have going for it is Robert Redford being effortlessly charming, and a roster of supporting actors that include Robert Duvall, Glenn Close, Kim Basinger, Barbara Hershey and Wilford Brimley. The big hook of the film has to do with our protagonist being felled by a bullet from a psychotic fan before becoming a star, and then coming back to the game a decade and a half later as a natural talent. There’s a mystery to it that proves less impressive than imagined, but the rest of director Barry Levinson’s film does run on rails all the way to a crucial win. What keeps the film interesting are those incidents approaching the supernatural that are littered around the main plot. By the time our protagonist hits a climactic pitch right into the stadium lights and creates fireworks, you’re either so solidly in the film’s distinctive logic that you’ll cheer, or roll your eyes one last time and say “That’s it, I’m done.”

Bugsy (1991)

Bugsy (1991)

(On Cable TV, March 2019) There is such a heady brew of elements in Bugsy that I wonder why I’m not so happy with the result. It is, after all, a mixture of crime, Hollywood, gambling and empire building, as a mob enforcer goes to Los Angeles in 1940, discovers the allure of Classic Hollywood, and starts dreaming about building a big gambling town in the Nevada desert. It’s easy why the role of “Bugsy” Siegel would have some attraction for Warren Beatty: a mixture of a powerful criminal, decisive lover, futurist dreamer and Golden-Age Hollywood glamour—a fast-talking con man with the ruthlessness to back it up. Plus, the lead female role belonged to Annette Bening, whom he met during shooting and eventually married. Technically, the film is solid: great production values, veteran director Barry Levinson at the helm, and good actors in the main roles. But Bugsy isn’t quite as slick as its components would suggest. The script shows some contempt for its character by titling itself after a nickname he hated. The pacing is unhurried, quite unlike the character it portrays. The ending is as obvious as it’s drawn out. And so the film’s highlights (such as a visit to a movie set) are drowned in so much minutiae that the entire thing feels lifeless in comparison to its subject. Maybe I’ll revisit Bugsy someday and see if I was just in a bad mood, or if the film does not align with its own centre.

Sleepers (1996)

Sleepers (1996)

(On Cable TV, October 2017) The mid-nineties were a surprisingly good time for solid thrillers, and Sleepers works not because of its atypical revenge plot or unobtrusive direction but largely because it managed to bring together an impressive group of actors. In-between Kevin Bacon, Jason Patric, Brad Pitt, Robert De Niro, Dustin Hoffman and the always-compelling Minnie Driver, it’s a nice mixture of generations and styles. It helps that the script is built solidly around an unusual conceit, with an ambitious lawyer doing his best to lose a case but make sure it’s widely publicized to take revenge upon childhood enemies. A blend of courtroom thriller and working-class drama, Sleepers may or may not be based on a true story, but it works well as fiction. Despite revolving around difficult subjects such as child abuse, Sleepers manages to be slightly comforting in how it ensures a victory of sorts for its characters, present a solid underdog story in an accessible fashion, and largely depends on familiar actors doing what they do best. Director Barry Levinson mostly stays out of the way of his actors, and the result is curiously easy to watch despite harsh sequences.

The Bay (2012)

The Bay (2012)

(On Cable TV, December 2014)  Now that we have entered the third or fourth stage of found-footage horror movies, it’s obvious that one camera isn’t enough: The Bay shows how a collage of personal video recording, TV footage, security cameras, dashcams, recorded video chats has become the state-of-the-art in showing how a small town is overrun by gross slimy monsters.  To its credit, The Bay does feature a striking monster and a deeper environmental them.  The problem is that The Bay doesn’t quite know what to do with what it has at its disposal.  It overplays some cards, underplays others, does itself no favours by blending its editing into fragments and calls attention to itself without actually deserving acclaim.  While the environmentally-conscious card is fine, it’s played far too often and far too stridently, making the same point long after the premise has been established.  Similarly, The Bay fools no one by making a claim to real events having occurred and being covered up.  While director Barry Levinson earns points by splitting its story in multiple found-footage streams, the film doesn’t actually present that many interesting characters –the most interesting story, featuring a family with a young baby, ends up concluding weakly without much of a climax.  The Bay repeatedly squanders what’s most interesting about itself to the point where it becomes just another runoff-the-mill horror film, perhaps a bit more annoying than most in how mediocre it ends up.