Billy Crystal

Throw Momma from the Train (1987)

Throw Momma from the Train (1987)

(On TV, June 2019) At this point, I’ve seen enough of Danny DeVito’s movies as a filmmaker (The War of the Roses, Duplex and Death to Smoochy come to mind) to understand his very dark and twisted sense of humour. In that context, Throw Momma from the Train becomes understandable, perhaps even inevitable. Its main idea is to recreate the premise of Hitchcock’s Strangers on a Train, except as a comedy. Two men with problems, wishing for someone else to take care of it. Except, well, there are complications: One of the men doesn’t quite understand that you don’t always really mean it … and so on. Billy Crystal isn’t bad as a writer with a grudge against his ex-wife, but it’s DeVito who steals the show as a dull-witted mama’s boy who pushes the absurd plot in motion. Don’t fret if you haven’t seen Strangers on a Train: The film explicitly refers to its origins, and only riffs on the premise: the movies are otherwise nothing like each other. It’s not a bad comedy, even though DeVito can be grating, and Anne Ramsey is deliberately irritating (impressively so, though). The dark laughter accumulates until a not-so-dark ending, leaving everyone happy along the way.

Running Scared (1986)

Running Scared (1986)

(In French, On TV, March 2019) So, there was apparently an effort in the mid-1980s to make Billy Crystal an action-comedy star? Well, why not: it was his biggest decade on the big screen, and who can blame studios for trying all sorts of things? He certainly won’t be remembered for Running Scared, a standard 1980s buddy-cop film in which our two cowboy cop heroes go around Chicago shooting and blowing up everything the producers could afford. It even comes with all the banter, police brutality, car chases and Uzi-toting drug dealers they could round up. Casting is hit and miss: While Crystal is fine with the banter, his limitations as an action hero are apparent, while the well-matched Gregory Hines does very little tap-dancing but feels significantly more rounded both on the comedy and the action side. Still, there’s enough blood and mayhem to prevent Running Scared from being a pure comedy: With Jimmy Smits on drug dealer role duties, the film does often feel a bit too spread between its successful comic dialogue (even awkwardly translated in French) and its less-successful action beats. Director Peter Hyams makes good use of the Chicago setting with a chase sequence involving the El, but on the flip side he ends up using some of the worst snow ever put in a studio film. There’s little point in getting incensed about it, or any other aspect of Running Scared’s production: the film feels forgettable even as you watch it, and it probably would have been completely forgotten if it wasn’t for Crystal headlining.

Analyze That (2002)

Analyze That (2002)

(Second viewing, On Cable TV, September 2018) I saw Analyze That in theatres during its first run, but somehow didn’t write any review of it since then. As oversights go, this is about as minor as the film actually is—as a sequel to the better-known Analyze This, it lazily reteams Billy Crystal with Robert de Niro as a psychoanalyst helping a mob boss deal with his repressed issues. This time, the dynamics are a bit different as de Niro’s character is out of jail and under Crystal’s custody in an attempt to flush out a mob rival. The film also gets slightly auto-referential in making the de Niro’s character become a consultant on an over-the-top mob TV series, which is good for a few inside jokes about the film industry. Still, much of the fun remains the same—Crystal playing his neurotic character against de Niro’s then-unusual mockery of his own persona. Given that de Niro has done little but keep going in that vein for the past fifteen years, that aspect of Analyze That has definitely lost some of its lustre. The film’s biggest problem, though, is that it’s immediately forgettable—I kept watching the film, occasionally doubting that I had, in fact, seen it until I got to the end and was reminded that “ends with a crane and a money-truck heist” was a correct recollection of the film (but not to be confused with Mickey Blue Eyes). It’s entertaining enough (de Niro’s self-mockery still feels more vital here than the copies-of-copies of the same parody he’s been doing since then) but don’t expect a magical experience. Or even to remember much of it moments later.

City Slickers (1991)

City Slickers (1991)

(Second viewing, On Cable TV, June 2018) I hadn’t seen City Slickers since the mid-nineties, and I had forgotten quite a bit about it—including what makes it so good. Beyond Jack Palance’s tough-cowboy performance (which led to an Oscar win and the infamous one-armed push-up acceptance speech that I saw on live TV) and Billy Crystal’s usual nebbish charm, City Slickers is built around a solid core of personal rediscovery, as well as an accompanying constellation of recurring gags, strong comic personalities playing off each other, and more throwaway gags than I remembered. Crystal is great, but the ensemble around him also works wonders at driving the film forward. Deftly playing with western archetypes and references (most specifically to Red River, which does make a good accompanying feature), it’s also a very nineties comedy film touching upon modern alienation and the value of manhood in a cerebral urban environment—seeing characters abruptly thrust into a different context is always good for a few laughs. The ending is a bit pat in the way it resorts to familiar action-movie theatrics as a shortcut to self-actualization, but that’s the way these things go: City Slickers is meant to entertain, not radically question our assumptions. It succeeds at what it tries to do.