John Turturro

The Color of Money (1986)

The Color of Money (1986)

(In French, On Cable TV, May 2019) I’m one of those weirdos that doesn’t particularly care for the original The Hustler (1961), so I was coming to The Color of Money with low expectations. Which may have worked to the later film’s advantage, as I found it more interesting than its predecessor. It helps that this follow-up does what sequels often loath to do—use the previous film as back-story while telling a new story in which returning characters are developed in interesting ways. Much of the credit for this creative intention goes directly to the authors of the novel from which The Color of Money is adapted, who conceived it as a sequel to the novel that spawned The Hustler. Paul Newman is back as a former professional pool player, now more interested in staking bets for younger players. Playing against him is Tom Cruise as a younger, more impulsive player, and the great-looking Mary Elizabeth Mastrantonio as the third party in their merry crew. (Plus, John Turturro as an evil hustler.)  The relationship between the three characters is what sustains The Color of Money on its way to the final tournament in Atlantic City, with everyone changing and allying themselves differently every few scenes. The middle of the film even sees a significant plot rearrangement, as the mentor/mentee relationship gives way to the mentor getting himself back into the game. While not quite as dramatic as its twenty-five-year distant prequel, The Color of Money nonetheless makes for fascinating viewing. Director Martin Scorsese being Scorsese, there are a few technically impressive shots here, as well as new ways of showing familiar things—most notable being the pool-as-tennis sequence, and some shorts from the perspective of the ball. The ending isn’t particularly cheery, but it does work to cap off the film in a satisfying way. It’s not quite as ambitious or universal as The Hustler, but The Color of Money does feel more enjoyable.

Mr. Deeds (2002)

Mr. Deeds (2002)

(On Cable TV, January 2015)  I may be off to lunch here given my lack of familiarity with the Adam Sandler oeuvre, but it seems to me that Mr. Deeds marks a bit of a transition between the violent man-child persona of Sandler’s early movies (most notably Billy Madison) and the more good-natured family-man persona of latter films (most notably the Grown-Ups series).  This is not, obviously, a comment on increasing or decreasing quality of his movies – just an entirely predictable evolution from a young comic’s persona to a middle-aged actor’s most appropriate roles.  Sandler still gets to assault someone (a fake mugging), but he spends most of the film as a likable small-town pizzeria-owner abruptly thrust in the cutthroat world of Manhattan finances after an unlikely inheritance.  The plot mechanics are standard and the jokes are lame, but there are occasional laughs to be found in the details and the character work.  Winona Ryder is at her peak-cute moment as the love interest, but John Turturro turns in much funnier material as a supporting character who then becomes far more important to the plot’s conclusion.  Still, this isn’t even near close to middle-brow entertainment: The characters act in ways that make no sense away from dumb comedies or kids shows, while elements of the plot are brutally stupid.  I suppose I’d feel outraged about this being a remake of a well-liked Gary Cooper film if I have a deeper knowledge of historical cinemas, but in the meantime I can just say that Mr. Deeds isn’t particularly good on its own merits.  

Barton Fink (1991)

Barton Fink (1991)

(On TV, June 2013) Barton Fink’s reputation as a mystifying piece of cinema precedes it by years, and after watching the film I’m no wiser than anyone else in trying to explain what I’ve just seen.  It starts simply enough, as a New York playwright moves to Los Angeles to write scripts for Hollywood.  The initial satire of the industry can be amusing at times.  But then the film moves in another direction entirely with a run-down hotel, a threatening next-door neighbor, a brutal murder, more symbolism than anyone can use, and enough references to other things that one can profitably mine the film for endless analysis.  John Turturro is compelling as the title character, while John Goodman is surprisingly menacing as his neighbor/id.  What Barton Fink does not contain, however, is a simply digestible experience: It’s a hermetic film that seemingly delights in throwing off its audience and multiplying contradictory interpretations.  As such, it’s kind of fun: The Coen Brothers’ skill in putting together the film mean that individual scenes are compelling to watch, even as it’s maddening to piece them together in a coherent whole. 

Transformers (2007)

Transformers (2007)

(In theaters, July 2007) After years of laughing and pointing at everyone whose childhood was brutally violated by Hollywood’s nostalgia cash-grab, Transformers is my turn in the victim’s seat. Hence my divided expectations: I wanted to see big transforming robots fight it out on screen, but I also wanted to be able to scream and cry that this was a suck-fest. Thanks to Michael Bay, all of my expectations were fulfilled: The film does feature giant transforming robots fighting it out on screen, and it’s also one of the most disappointing action pictures of the year. At its best, Transformers is a mean and lavish techno-thriller in which humans do their best to fight against a robotic alien invasion. At its worst, it’s either a so-called comedy in which the robots have sub-moronic IQs, or a mish-mash of CGI without shape or coherence. Prepare to be dazzled and stunned in your seat as the film keeps flipping between best and worst. There is certainly a lot of money on screen. Unfortunately, the design of the Transformers themselves is too complicated to allow for a good representation of their heft and bulk: all we see are CGI moving pieces without any physical presence. This makes the chaotic action scenes even more difficult to follow: at time, the movement across the screen is meant to be the action, but all we’re left is an impressionistic idea of action without reference. I realize I’m sounding like an old crank when I say this, but trust me: Transformers grabs Armageddon‘s place as “Most obvious proof Michael Bay’s must stop chugging Energy Drinks”. Otherwise, well, the lowest-common-denominator comedy is painful, and the film can’t be bothered to keep all of its subplots straight. Too bad: one of the film’s most enjoyable element is a CGI-free performance by John Turturro as a man with far too many secrets. It all amounts to a pretty mixed summer blockbuster, one that will have as many fans as detractors for exactly the same reasons. I got to see my favourite toys duking it out on screen and I got nostalgic trauma out of it. Life is good.