Bette Midler

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.