Bette Midler

  • Parental Guidance (2012)

    Parental Guidance (2012)

    (In French, On Cable TV, December 2020) While Billy Crystal isn’t listed as one of Parental Guidance’s screenwriters (although he is a producer), his brand of amiable old-school humour gets a pretty good fit in this story of generational clashes. The laughs begin when a couple has to go away for business and calls their parents to babysit the kids for a few days. Predictably, the old-school parenting represented by Crystal (and co-star Bette Midler) doesn’t quite fit the caricatural newageish instructions left by the parents… and things go on from there. It’s all meant to be sweet and easy to watch, which means that you will see every subplot coming from a mile away. As expected, Crystal plays into cranky baby-boomer stereotypes whose blunter methods of parenting can fill the gaps left by the too-permissive parents, and the ending sees personal growth for everyone involved. Unobtrusively directed by Andy Fickman (which apparently means letting Crystal do whatever he wants), the screenwriting tricks are obvious, the comedy is played broadly and the stereotypes take the place of characterization. And yet, it’s not unwatchable. Marisa Tomei is always a plus, and even the predictable sappiness works in wrapping up the film satisfyingly. Sure, Parental Guidance is Hollywood in autopilot mode, but when the formula works for most audiences, it works.

  • The Rose (1979)

    The Rose (1979)

    (In French, On Cable TV, December 2020) If you wanted an actress for a high-energy rock singer biography in the late 1970s, you really only had two choices: Barbra Streisand or Bette Midler. While Streisand had hers in A Star is Born, here is Midler taking on not-Janis Joplin’s role in The Rose. While the script doesn’t stray too far away from the usual showbiz-sex-drugs-and-rock-and-roll template (albeit without a redemption arc, because Joplin was the inspiration and the 1970s were mean like that), the entire film is carried by Midler. Her high-energy performance is far better than the (rather decent) material she’s given, and even at a time when Joplin is a distant memory, Midler is still fit to impress here. Amazingly enough – this was her big-screen acting debut (other than one previous concert film) and she effortlessly crosses from singing sensation to acting. The rest of the film, directed competently by Mark Rydell, is far more ordinary – but the period atmosphere is getting enjoyable with time. Still, The Rose is Midler’s show – and the single best reason to seek this out.

  • Outrageous Fortune (1987)

    Outrageous Fortune (1987)

    (In French, On Cable TV, October 2020) Whenever Bette Midler is on-screen, it shouldn’t be surprising if the result is loud messy comedy. The premise of Outrageous Fortune is simple enough to qualify as high-concept: When two women with opposite personalities discover that they’re dating the same man and he disappears, they go chasing after him and discover that he’s a spy. Cue the arguments, the chase sequences, the cross-country scenes and the shifts from comedy to thriller to action and back. It’s all handled with a veteran’s professionalism (but not energy) by director Arthur Hiller. The highlight here is clearly Midler with a typically brassy, brash performance that clearly outshines that of co-star Shelley Long who must settle for being the straight woman of the comedy duo. In many ways, Outrageous Fortune is a disappointment—it’s overly familiar in places, and not audacious enough in others: the ending is a bit of a deflating balloon, and the supporting stereotypes it perpetuates have not aged well. But there’s Midler, always Midler—it may not be worth re-watching, but she’s worth watching at least once.

  • Divine Madness (1980)

    Divine Madness (1980)

    (On Cable TV, September 2020) I’m coming at Bette Midler’s concert film Divine Madness from a very different perspective than the paying audience did back in 1980—she was then known as a singer, with only one film under her belt. People saw the film as one way for the chart-topping entertainer to extend her reach to the movie screen. I, on the other hand (and like many cinephiles), now see Midler first as a comic actress—that’s what’s been captured and keeps her profile alive even as her earlier musical success has been eclipsed. From that perspective, Divine Madness is an enduring film capture of her singing abilities. It should not surprise any of her fans, no matter how they know her. Here, a thirtysomething Midler demonstrates the three pillars that ensured her success no matter the medium: beauty, charisma and talent. Blending bawdy comic patter with stirring performances and a grander-than-life persona, Midler tears through multiple outrageous costume changes, touches upon half a dozen musical styles, and keeps up the comedy from beginning to end. Director Michael Ritchie innovated at the time by keeping the energy high and the numerous cameras rolling: While this approach has become familiar over the years, it was a revelation at the time and helped distinguish the film from many more conventional concert films. While the time to see Divine Madness and rush out to buy tickets to Midler’s next concert is gone (although she is still performing on Broadway), we can at least keep the film as a capture of that specific moment.

  • Big Business (1988)

    Big Business (1988)

    (In French, On Cable TV, April 2020) As high-concept comic premises go, “mismatched twins” is pretty good so how about “two pairs of mismatched twins”? How about having one very upper-class set, and one very working class? How about them not only reuniting, but doing so in the context of big business shenanigans? Wheee! Add to that concept such gifted lead performers as Bette Midler and Lily Tomlin and the only two possible questions are “How much money will this make?” and “How can this fail?” Alas, the answers to that second question are what we’re here to discuss. It’s not that Big Business is a bad movie—it’s got enough chuckles along the way, two powerhouse performances for four, a savvy blend of archetypical plot devices, and some nice late-1980s sheen. It’s just that for all of its potential, Big Business feels… oddly lacking. The constant near-misses turn into steady annoyances, the idiot plot keeps dragging long after even the most idiotic idiots have understood it, and the story doesn’t quite get to the next level with its third act. Delaying the twinset’s reunion so late in the film doesn’t just mean more frustration throughout—it means that there’s less time to see all of them react to one another and join forces. The archetypical ingredients should have led to something bigger and better than this. I mean, sure, do watch Big Business for the fun of seeing Midler and Tomlin in dual roles… but you’ll wonder why it’s not better than it is.

  • Ruthless People (1986)

    Ruthless People (1986)

    (In French, On Cable TV, March 2020) Considering that I have long been a steadfast fan of the Zucker, Abrahams and Zucker (ZAZ) spoof comedies (Airplane!, Top Secret!), it’s a bit of a surprise that I managed to wait this long to see their Ruthless People. There’s definitely a reason for that, however: Ruthless People, compared to other ZAZ movies, is known to operate on a very different comedic register. It’s not a visually intense spoof, is far from being as absurd on a gag-to-gag basis and is far more character-based. I hesitate to call it more realistic, however, considering the incredibly dense and twisted nature of its plotting as a “simple” kidnapping case soon reverses the usual good/bad character roles and leads to some strange alliances, twists and counter-plotting. Milquetoast Judge Reinhold and Helen Slater star as disgruntled employees who decide to take revenge by kidnapping the wife (Bette Midler) of their boss (Danny DeVito), but things very quickly take a turn for the weird when the boss actively attempts to provoke the kidnappers into killing his wife. This is all in the film’s first fifteen minutes, and there’s a lot left along the way, including the jarring introduction of a serial killer who eventually ends up becoming a comic prop. It’s both disappointing (if you’re expecting the usual ZAZ goofiness) and better than expectations when compared to other comic crime capers of the time. There’s a pleasant density of plot developments, DeVito is at his most darkly unhinged, and Bette Midler is the force of nature that she is in her better roles. On the other hand, this is not as distinctive as other ZAZ comedies, and in a post-Tarantino world it’s not quite as intriguing as it must have been at the time. Pair it with Throw Momma from the Train for a fun Danny DeVito dark comedy combo.

  • The First Wives Club (1996)

    The First Wives Club (1996)

    (On Cable TV, March 2020) I read nearly everything by author Olivia Goldsmith before her life was cut short by complications following plastic surgery (an irony for the ages, considering that her novels were all about middle-aged women becoming comfortable with their own aging), and The First Wives Club was not only her first, but perhaps her most representative novel as well. Here we have three “first wives” teaming up to take out their ex-husbands after many transgressions. The adaptation is a rare opportunity for middle-aged actresses to have great memorable roles, and much of the fun of the film consists in seeing Bette Midler, Goldie Hawn and Diane Keaton tear up the scenery as they wreak revenge. The lead trio is complemented by an impressive supporting cast of known actors — some of them before they became famous, such as Sarah Jessica Parker. The First Wives Club is not a subtle film, and the social commentary can be blunt, but it’s part of its charm that none of the ex-husbands is anything but irremediably evil and that the heroines exert nothing but righteous retribution for a litany of sins. It’s actually fun in its own way, even if the film is intended for middle-aged women.

  • Down and out in Beverly Hills (1986)

    Down and out in Beverly Hills (1986)

    (In French, On Cable TV, November 2019) There’s something quite provincial in Hollywood making a movie about class differences in Beverly Hills—I can’t figure out whether Down and out in Beverly Hills is hypocritical or self-flagellating, although with writer-director Paul Mazursky at the helm, it’s closer to a gentle critique than outright satire. The plot gets moving once a bum nearly drowns in a rich family’s house, and they welcome him out of a sense of guilt. But the bum (as is tradition) sees clearer and thinks farther than his new dysfunctional family and before long sorts out all kinds of big and small problems. The plot schematics are obvious, but the film does a little bit better on moment-to-moment viewing thanks to a capable cast. In between Nick Nolte, Bette Midler, Richard Dreyfuss and a young Elizabeth Peña (plus Little Richard as a neighbour), the film does have its charms, and recognizably aims for more than just the laughs. Thematically, I’m bothered by how the film doesn’t seem to have the courage of its convictions—I’m not sure that the dysfunctional family won’t be back to dysfunction within the week. This may be a consequence of Mazursky not quite going for comedy and not quite going for drama—Down and Out in Beverly Hills ends up being a less-than-satisfying hybrid, watchable but not admirable.

  • Beaches (1988)

    Beaches (1988)

    (In French, On Cable TV, November 2019) If you’re wondering what a title like Beaches has to do with the adventures of two headstrong women played by Bette Midler and Barbara Hershey, may I suggest pronouncing the title again with a slight accent? (Sure, there’s the setting going from the sandy shores of Atlantic City to San Francisco—but my explanation is funnier.)  The friendship drama spans decades, antagonistic romantic triangles, showbiz success, many personal milestones and one big sob at the end—exactly what a deliberate tearjerker needs to be successful. For many viewers, the best reason to watch the film remains Midler, here in the upswing of her movie career as a powerhouse performer. She’s terrific, although at the cost of taking away some of Hershey’s more delicate work. Director Garry Marshall does good work in executing the film’s intention in a mostly unchallenging manner, keeping its emotional punches for the tragic finale. The flip side of that mere competence is that Beaches feels far too deliberate to be affecting: it goes exactly where you expect in more or less the expected manner. While this may be an issue with jaded film critics and people falling outside the film’s intended demographics, this is unlikely to be much of a problem for that core audience seeking exactly what the film must deliver—the proof being all the other movies before or since taking up exactly the same formula. But, hey, this one had “Wind Beneath My Wings” to sob about.

  • Hocus Pocus (1993)

    Hocus Pocus (1993)

    (On TV, June 2019) Over the past few years, I gradually realized that Hocus Pocus had attained cult status for an entire generation a decade younger than me. Of course, I was 18 and not inclined to kids’ movies back in 1993—no wonder it passed me by. But now that 1980s nostalgia is leading to 1990s nostalgia, here we are celebrating the youth classics of a new generation, hence Hocus Pocus’ 25th anniversary and an occasion to find out what the fuss was about. To my surprise, Hocus Pocus does hold up—from the surprisingly dark opening sequence (child-murdering witches!), to the twists and turns of the plot with a few false endings, all the way through a gleefully campy tone, it’s actually a good time to watch. Bette Midler is clearly having fun hamming it up as a buck-toothed elder witch, but Sarah Jessica Parker is just as hilarious as the most dim-witted (and cutest) of the lead witchy trio. Early performances by a pre-teen Thora Birth and a zombie Doug Jones are worth noticing, but the ensemble cast does seem to have a good idea of the kind of film it’s in. The pacing rarely flags at barely more than 90 minutes, and even the creaky special effects have their own charm—including a surprisingly convincing talking cat. (On a similar note, the feline Binx pleasantly reminded me of my other favourite 1990s talking black cat, Salem from Sabrina, the Teenage Witch.)  For adult viewers, there are a number of racy references in Hocus Pocus that feel even more surprising coming from a Disney movie, and a fair number of good one-liners. Add to that the generally timeless feel of the film (and yes, “I put a Spell on You” is catchy), and there’s enough here for everyone even today.