I’m intrigued by the way cinema affects our perception of reality, especially how certain images or feelings from films stick with us for days, months, years, even a lifetime. Jaws (which just turned 35, by the way), is one of those movies that’s often cited as having that power, making viewers terrified to go in the water permanently after watching it – even in fresh water lakes, which is completely irrational.

Of course, it’s not just horror films that can cause such strong associations; Vegas reminds me of Swingers, Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas and The Hangover – humourous films that amplify that carnivalesque, party too-hearty, anything goes reputation. I bring up fear though, not just because it’s such a strong emotion, but also because it sparks my imagination more than other feelings.

For example, this weekend, myself and five others got the hell out of Smashronto to a rental cottage in the woods. The destination was near Huntsville, site of the G8 Summit, and the entire lake was unusually quiet – hardly a boat out on a sunny Saturday afternoon. We were the only people renting a cottage at the property; all felt peaceful and serene. Well, at least until late that night.

We were sitting lakeside, around a campfire. It was nearly a full moon, which illuminated the still water, the opposite shoreline and an island. Then the mist rolled in shortly after midnight. It was actually really beautiful, but those of us that had watched the movie The Mist, Frank Darabont’s 2007 adaptation of my favourite Stephen King short story, immediately remarked how creepy it was and how it was devouring the land across from us, and that it was most likely chock full of hideous monstrosities from another dimension that were waiting to devour us with tentacles, pinchers and fangs. Y’know, it was 26 above with a chance of Lovecraft…

The Mist is so effective at creating an atmosphere of dread emanating from that rather ordinary barometric phenomenon, that since seeing it, every time it’s foggy out I think about the film and get just a little creeped because of it, in a way that I never did before seeing the movie. In my head I replay those scenes in my head where the mist rolls in off the lake, and then later spills through the town, into the parking lot of the supermarket where our heroes are forced to hole up.

As the mist crept closer to us, I could almost hear the unearthly moaning of the terrors within. That’s the power of cinema when it preys on you oh-so perfectly.

Of course, it may just be that I watch way too many horror films. After the mist arrived, we went down to the dock and shone a flashlight across the water; I illuminated a raft for swimmers that’s was a little way out in the water, and the first thing I thought of was the raft in “The Raft” segment of Creepshow 2 (the movie anthology comprised of adaptations of, again, Stephen King short stories). Then we looked up at the cottage on the hill, which was surrounded by mist and appeared particularly frightening with the porch lights casting strange shadows amongst the trees. First thought: the cabin in The Evil Dead.

Is this an unhealthy default – to think of these movies? To imagine hideous terrors? Should I lay off them for a while?

Of course, not. When I got back home last night, I watched The Mist again. My imagination also lives in that white shroud with all the monsters, and the last thing I want to do is put a leash on  it. If cinema can create such strong connotations, it's telling you about yourself, and that's a good thing.

 

-Dave Alexander

A fenced-off Toronto, conflict in the streets, brain dead decision making and the recent death of Dennis Hopper – how I could not have Land of the Dead on the Brain?

George A. Romero’s 2005, T.O.-shot  zombie film is a return to the flesh-eating zombie subgenre that he created. It takes place in a walled city, where the rich, led by Hopper’s character, Kaufman (apparently based on Donald Rumsfeld), live in a luxurious tower protected by the military. Eventually, through human error and zombie ingenuity, the dead overtake the city, literally eating the rich. Meanwhile, a rag-tag groups of heroes escape with the intent to go to Canada (the film was shot here but set in Romero’s home city, Pittsburgh).

Aside from Hopper’s impersonation, the satire on Bush’s America is more than obvious – the growing gap between rich and poor, a militarized state, corrupt government, etc. Many urban Toronto features are recognizable, and when I was downtown last weekend and saw those giant fences for the first time, the first thing that leapt to mind was Land of Dead. It looked like preparations for a zombie apocalypse down on Front Street.

Of course, nothing in Romero’s satirical movie matches the hyperbole of Toronto’s Theatre of Security. Red and yellow zones, bicycle posts removed with the bikes still on them, saplings uprooted for fear that they could be weaponized… Really, when was the last time you saw a protestor whittle a poking stick?

I wouldn’t believe this sort of stuff was taking place if it was in a movie, and it would be pretty hilarious if it wasn’t so embarrassing and unnecessary. There’s nothing to showcase here for the G20 delegates, other than concrete and chain-link fence, so why not hold it somewhere isolated and sublime, like a ski resort, where a regular old fence and some bear spray could take care of unwanted visitors. Why not on the edge of an actual lake, instead of a fake one built for the cost of $2 million. To put it in perspective, that was the cost of Romero’s 2008 zombie film Diary of the Dead.

As this Star article points out (prepare to be very, very angry after reading it), the G20 is costing Canadians about $1.1 billion dollars, with $930 million of it for security. I can barely get my head around that figure (though it does bring to mind another movie title: FUBAR…).

Romero has lived in Toronto for several years now, and he shot his last three zombie movies in the city and surround area. Given the man’s politics, a factor in that decision to move north may have been the desire to escape this kind of militaristic insanity. The legendary filmmaker resides in a high-rise condo somewhere downtown, and I wonder if he stands out on his balcony and surveys the whole thing with a laugh. I wonder what he thinks about Toronto’s downtown being turned into the world’s most expensive zombie movie set. I wonder if it’s inspiring another one of his Dead films.

I hope so, because that’s about the only good thing I can somehow, maybe, possibly see coming out of this who G20 fiasco.

 

-Dave Alexander

Without government funding, there would be no Canadian film industry – that’s not breaking news. Canuck flicks get made with the help of funding bodies on both the federal and provincial levels, with different provinces having different incentives and mandates for distributing the money. Traditionally, this has resulted in “culture-building” projects, meaning narratives about racial, social, sexual, political diversity; historical struggles against this, vast, unforgiving landscape, which shaped the character of our nation; and more high-brow (read: non-Hollywood) projects exploring the struggle for national identity.

Or, as the average Canadian will tell you: a lot of really boring movies.

But not always. Some of our greatest and most famous films have been horrific (David Cronenberg, for example), critically-acclaimed dark dramas (Atom Egoyan’s award-winning work) or light comedy (films by sketch comedy actors come to mind).

I’ve been thinking about this since reading a couple of New York Times pieces. The first is about how, in the U.S., state funding bodies increasingly are acting like censors by denying funding to projects that they don’t agree with on moral grounds, often using provisions in state law that allow them to deny funding if a film portrays the state in a negative way.

The second piece is a companion article that hilariously re-envisions classic New York-set films as being sanitized to make the city look favourable. In Taxi Driver, Travis Bickle is a helpful cabbie trying to return a laptop left in his car by a twelve-year-old girl; in Wall Street, Gordon Gecko is an environmental crusader using his financial know-how to stop big business polluters; and King Kong just wants to scale the Empire State building to soak up that famous skyline.

What if the same thing happened to some of Canada’s most famous Toronto-set films? Let’s rework the plots of three T.O.-based stories to make them less morally questionable.

 

Strange Brew

This time, the Rick Moranis/Dave Thomas film sees two friends, Robert and Douglas (bonded over a mutual enthusiasm for soda pop), take a break from job hunting to visit the Canada Dry factory, in order to offer their advice on how to improve the product. To their surprise, they’re both offered employment and embark on careers as quality control representatives. However, while on the job, they uncover a troubling plot in which the ginger ale brewmaster plans on donating expired cases of pop to a local hockey team for troubled youth – and telling them that it’s fresh! To thwart the nefarious plan, Robert drinks all of the expired soda at once, causing him to balloon up to a comical size. Douglas rolls him over to the hockey rink, where the two men lecture the team on the dangers of consuming an abundance of sugary liquids, before the brewmaster, seeing the error of his ways, arrives to deliver fresh Canada Dry to the team. Everyone on the squad also gets a free toque.

 

Exotica

Atom Egoyan’s film gets re-envisioned, so it’s about a Revenue Canada employee who regularly visits the library, where he requests that his favourite librarian, a pretty young woman, help him peruse the exotic plants section. A clerk at the check-out desk who used to date the librarian becomes jealous and tampers with the man’s account so it appears that he’s assessed a massive late fine, and he is then barred from going to the library. A pet store owner, grateful to the man for auditing him so he could pay the correct sum to the government, decides to help. Together, they construct a detailed timeline – depicted in a series of flashbacks – proving that the late fee could not possibly be correct. When confronted with the evidence, the clerk decides that the right thing to do is resign. In a final flashback, we learn that the librarian reminds the man of his daughter, who he misses dearly because she’s gone away tree-planting in British Columbia for the summer.

 

Crash

In this version of the David Cronenberg film, a husband and wife with marital concerns get in a car accident and become inspired to hold a demolition derby to raise money for people injured in automobile mishaps. Along the way, they meet others – including a doctor and a James Dean fan – who had similar experiences, and they all decide to work together to channel their mutual car crash-related interests for the greater good of society. The group members go out dancing together and, while switching partners, decide to overcome their anxieties stemming from the various accidents by participating in the derby themselves. In the end, they realize that the ultimate thrill is helping others, which brings the husband and wife closer together, effectively saving their marriage. Prolonged sequences showcasing the importance of seatbelts, hammers home the film’s ultimate message of vehicular safety.

 

-Dave Alexander

It’s three in the morning and one of the biggest monster movie fans I know is being tattooed by one of the world’s most famous monster tattoo artists. The tattoo-ee is Gary Pullin, Art Director for Rue Morgue magazine, my co-worker and fellow horror-lovin’ BFF. The tattoo artist is Bob Tyrrell, one of the foremost portrait artist inkers, who’s been featured on dozens of tattoo magazine covers and on shows such as L.A. Ink. Tonight Bob is employing his signature atmospheric, black and white, highly-detailed style on a portrait of Vincent Price as Dr. Anton Phibes in 1971’s The Abominable Dr. Phibes (along with the title character’s wife, Vulnavia Wrick, played by Virginia North).

The work began at about eight p.m. (in the Rue Morgue office here in Toronto, because Gary is the subject of an upcoming episode of a T.V. show about fan culture) and will probably wrap up at about five or six a.m. Doc Phibes is part of a sleeve that Bob has been tattooing on Gary, portrait-by-portrait, over the past several years. The other movie monsters on the sleeve include Universal Studios’ classic title creatures from Frankenstein, The Creature From the Black Lagoon, The Wolfman and the The Invisible Man.

It’s a long sit, so to help pass the time, let’s interview Gary and Bob about – what else? – movie monsters.

 

Gary, why did you choose Phibes as the latest addition to your movie monster arm gallery?

It’s one of Vincent Price’s best roles, and I always loved the ghastly makeup. Plus Vulnavia is a beauty. In general, I wanted to get a Vincent Price, and there are a lot of Vincent tattoos out there but this one is a little more unique – it’s got a Beauty and the Beast duality to it, the monster and his bride.

 

Bob, how many Vincent Price portraits have you done?

This is number… Phives. I also did one from Theatre of Blood, Masque of the Red Death, House on Haunted Hill, and the other one was a publicity still where Price is smoking – sometime in the 1940s.

 

What horror icon have you tattooed the most on people?

I think Frankenstein’s Monster is tied with Vincent Price at five.

 

Gary, you’ve still got some room on your arm, so who’s next?

Definitely the Bride of Frankenstein. There’s a nice big spot for it.

 

Would you do a contemporary monster?

No, I think the classic monsters have a better look and a better feel to them. If I was going to get a contemporary monster, it would probably be Leatherface from the original Texas Chainsaw Massacre. When I first saw that movie, I discovered the feeling of real horror in a movie. Although, that was made only three years after Phibes, so it’s not really contemporary, but rather more from the newer school of more intense horror. That said, as much as I like A Nightmare on Elm Street, Friday the 13^th and Halloween, I wouldn’t get one of the characters.

 

What was the first monster movie you remember watching?

[Gary] Probably Godzilla. They used to air them on Saturday mornings. King Kong was another one that I saw when I was little.

 

[Bob] Me too for Godzilla! The first one in the theatre was Roger Corman’s The Pit and the Pendulum, or possibly Tales of Terror.

 

Gary, you get to draw monsters for a living, and several people have had your illustrations tattooed on their bodies. Tell me about some of them.

One guy got a tattoo of a portrait of H.P. Lovecraft that I did across his chest. The other one that I really liked was a picture I did of David Naughton’s character from the film’s dream sequence – it was on a Rue Morgue cover – that a guy from Norway got on his upper arm. Another guy got a zombie portrait from Lucio Fulci’s Zombie that I had drawn for a Rue Morgue cover. I based the image on a publicity still, but you can clearly see that it’s my drawing. I think it’s really cool.

 

Bob, can you names some actors or movie characters that you haven’t done yet that you’d love to ink on someone?

I definitely wanna do a Joe Pesci – that’s on the top of the list. One from Goodfellas would be the ultimate. Christopher Lee from Curse of Frankenstein, for sure, too.

 

[Gary] I call that one!

 

Ha ha… Ok, so why Joe Pesci?

He’s one of my favourite actors. He’s just a bad mother****er, y’know – he's small but bad. Oh, and any cool Christopher Walken pic, or Samuel L. Jackson, especially from Pulp Fiction, where he’s got the Jheri curls. I’d also love to do a Dennis Hopper.

 

You were actually in a movie with Dennis Hopper – you played a finger-eating zombie in George A. Romero’s Land of the Dead. What was that like?

I was up for two days. I went and saw Motorhead, was out drinking all night, and then went straight [to the set] at 3:30 in the morning. I hung out for a couple hours watching the effects guys do makeup – it was awesome – and then at about five a.m. they started doing our makeup for a couple of hours. Then I sat around for about five hours, thinking I’d be a background zombie that no one would ever see. And then they used me in a scene that was later cut, but [effects artist] Greg Nicotero used me a in a gore gag a few hours later where I eat some fingers. I was like, “Sweet!”

 

And Gary, you were in a zombie movie too…

I got to play a zombie in the Dawn of the Dead remake by Zack Snyder. It was a lot of fun. Our makeup was pretty extensive. It was more than “extras” makeup. There’s a scene where we’re chasing somebody down a manhole. Blink and miss it. Then there’s another scene where it’s me and a bunch of other zombie extras being funneled out of a gate and I’m the first one. I’m wearing a really ugly yellow T-shirt.

 

Yet there was a still that clearly shows you that was used on the front page of CNN when the film came out! How often do you get to be on the front page of CNN? As a zombie, no less?!?

Here’s a funny story: the on-set photographer for the film took a picture of myself and some of my Rue Morgue co-workers as zombies, and in the next month’s issue of Fangoria, our competition, in the centre spread was a photo of us with the director, that they used as a lead image. I’m pretty sure Fangoria didn’t know it was us!

 

Bob, you’ve tattooed a lot of musicians, including, Kid Rock and his whole band, Kerry King from Slayer and Scott Ian from Anthrax. Ever tattoo an established actor?

Nope. Although I met another artist recently who tattooed Angelina Jolie.

 

Gary, what was the first movie monster you remember drawing?

I’m pretty sure it was Boris Karloff in Frankenstein, and I remember trying to draw Darth Vader when I was very, very young. It didn’t turn out very well.

 

Bob?

Godzilla!

 

What are some of the more out there actor, character or creature tattoos that you’ve done?

I just did two Star Wars things – a Tuskan Raider and Greedo – and those are pretty far out there for me.

 

It’s getting pretty damn late, and Gary’s starting to look like Greedo. How’s that arm feelin’?

It’s pretty tender – feels like a nice piece of tenderized meat.

 

If you guys could be watching any movie right now, what would it be?

 

[Gary] the Abominable Dr. Phibes, of course!

 

[Bob] Um, Two Girls and a Donkey? Just kidding, Dr. Phibes too!

-Dave Alexander

A is… not for A-Team – that’s too obvious – but for Audience.

 

Having been a massive A-Team fan as a little kid, I was both excited and skeptical when this film was announced – sure I want to visit that world again, but would it just be another crass remake of a T.V. show made for an audience of teens? Good news: while it’ll never be acclaimed, The A-Team 2010 a blast for both fans of the original series and newcomers. A for effort! Go Team!

 

 

B is for B.A. Baracus

 

Square-jawed behemoth UFC fighter Quinton “Rampage” Jackson steps into the role that made Mr. T famous and plays the group’s muscle/expert driver with just the right amount of cartoonishness. Apparently Ice Cube, The Game and Common were considered or the role too. Surprise! The fighter beat the rappers and I can’t see anyone else in the role.

 

 

C is for Cameos and Credits

 

There are pretty amusing cameos from two of the original A-Team cast members. You have to wait until after the credits to see them, though.

 

 

D is “Daah dah-dah-daaaaa, daa daa daaahhhhh…”

 

It’s downright Pavlovian – as soon as I hear that rousing theme music, I get a twinge of little kid excitement. The filmmakers know the power of that theme and they employ it effectively to stoke the audience.

 

E is for The Expendables

 

Saw the trailer for both The Expendables and Predators before The A-Team (talk about the right crowd). Much excited murmuring could be heard. It’s shaping up to be a good summer for ‘80s action fans.

 

 

F is for Faceman

 

Bradley Cooper (The Hangover) slides into the Dirk Benedict role as Lt. Templeton “Faceman” Peck. All abs, tan and blue eyes, he’s the ladykiller of the bunch who’s as skilled at warfare as is he is charming the women. Here he’s got a past with Jessica Biel’s character, Charisa Sosa, who’s hunting the A-Team after the members are framed for murder and stealing metal plates which can be used for counterfeiting billions of U.S. dollars. Cooper does a bang-up job, delivering the right mix of goofy comedy, physical toughness and eye candy for the girls dragged to the theatre by their boyfriends.

 

 

G is for Gold chains

 

There are none in the film. Good call.

 

 

H is for Hannibal

 

Liam Neeson, tearing it up as a tough guy in his late-‘50s since his turn in Taken, fills George Peppard’s shoes with the requisite cigar-chomping bravado and clever plotting that embodies Colonel John "Hannibal" Smith. I love it when cast comes together.

 

 

I is for Indignant

 

Apparently Mr. T didn’t do a cameo in the A-Team movie because “People die in the film and there's plenty of sex.” Maybe the script he read was different, but in this PG-13 film there’s not so much as a bra on display. 

 

 

J is for Joe Carnahan

 

Carnahan’s Narc is one of my fave cop films, and, as director and co-writer, he brings a bit of that toughness here to the film, giving it more of an edge than you’d expect, given the source material. There’s also the rollercoaster of physics-defying violence you see on display in his Smokin’ Aces. While some of his action sequences are edited into incomprehensibility, and the finale of the film drags on, he’s crafted a variety of fantastic action sequences packed with thrills and laughs, notably the parachuting tank bit.

 

 

K is for K.O.

 

The physical action in The A-Team is ambitious too, with plenty of fights and stunts. B.A. administers some great haymakers, a kick that sends a guy flying into a window and a deadly body slam. Tattooed on his fists: “Pity” and “Fool” – ha ha ha ha ha…

 

 

L is for Location

 

The film is set in Mexico, Iraq, Germany and L.A., but, shockingly, it was all shot around the Vancouver area. The locations and computer animation people worked some miracles that sell Canada’s western film hub as the ultimate versatile location. Very impressive.

 

 

M is for Murdock

 

Sharlto Copely came out of nowhere to star in District 9 and he’s the most watchable cast member here, stepping in for Dwight Schultz as certifiably insane ace pilot James “Howling Mad” Murdock. Whether he’s performing Braveheart impressions or last-minute helicopter rescues, the guy is a blast.

 

 

N is for Nickel

 

If I had one for every time a motorized vehicle defies the laws of physic and/or gravity, I’d make my own A-Team movie.

 

 

O is for Oath

 

At one point in the film B.A. takes an oath to not kill anyone after reading Gandhi, and he has an inner struggle with his warrior nature. In the end, Hannibal uses another Gandhi quote to help convince him to return to his violent ways. It’s dumb and offensive. Gandhi doesn’t have a place in an A-Team movie any more than gold chains, high-tops and a Mohawk have on Gandhi.

 

 

P is for Plan

 

If you take a drink every time Hannibal says “plan,” you’ll pass out before the end of the first act.

 

 

Q is for Quote

 

Biel’s character sums up the film best when she says: “They are the best and they specialize in the ridiculous.”

 

 

R is for Resourceful

 

One of the best things about The A-Team was always the characters’ resourcefulness – the way they could make a battle buggy out of some old crap lying in a barn, or a cabbage cannon out of some random junk. There’s just the right amount of that fun stuff in the movie. (And, by the way, the A-Team was doing this back in ’83, then MacGyver came along and totally ripped off the concept in ’85!)

 

 

S is for Steely Dan

 

There’s a recurring Steely Dan joke in the film. Didn’t see that coming…

 

 

T is for Tone

 

The most impressive thing about the A-Team movie is the tone. Carnahan manages the right mix of campy, gritty, nostalgic and flashy – which is a lot more difficult than he makes it look.

 

 

U is for Unhealthy

 

That’s how I’d describe my childhood obsession with the show. I had the toys, the comics, dressed up in camouflage pants to watch it, and even borrowed the novelizations from the library. There’s an undeniable satisfaction that a whole new generation now gets to experience the joy of seemingly impossible missions, wanton violence, shameless one-liners and old men who make smoking cigars seem cool (speaking of unhealthy).

 

 

V is for Van

 

The van is the perfect example of striking the right tone in the film. Of course everyone wants to see that signature vehicle (a black GMC Vandura), as it was a defining aspect of the original show, but, on the other hand, it’s completely ridiculous to have a group of wanted fugitives cruising around in such a distinct ride. The answer: give us some van candy at the beginning of the film, then destroy it. Even better: do it in a way that is both hilarious and sets up the antagonistic relationship between B.A. and Murdock. See for yourself in the trailer.

 

 

W is for Willis

 

According to the IMDB, Bruce Willis was up for the role of Hannibal. I just can’t see it, though. He’d need a grey wig and more of a fatherly manner to him. Neeson just works so well. Go Liam.

 

 

X is for Xenophobia

 

One of the controversies surrounding the film is a xenophobic comment made by Jackson in which he said “Acting is kind of gay. It makes you soft.” He explained himself in a blog entry (more info here). Hopefully he was just being immature and isn’t a homophobe, especially considering he, uh, strips down to his shorts and gets all sweaty and grabby with other musclemen for a living…

 

 

Y is for Yes

 

Does the A-Team warrant a sequel? Hell, yes! I’d love to see more adventures and more back story on the characters.

 

 

Z is for Zellers

 

That where my mom bought the red and white A-Team shirt that wore with pride until I grew out of it. Good moms love their kids enough to support even their silliest obsessions. I guess she figured it was better than me wearing a bunch of her gold chains and taking clippers to my head.

-Dave Alexander

With the success of Get Him to the Greek this past weekend, it’s official: Jonah Hill is the newest funny fat guy. Ever since Fatty Arbuckle prat-falled his way across the screen during the silent era, movie audiences have valued their more circular comedians. Big men with large gestures and a pronounced lack of physical grace make for good laughs – it’s a simple formula. Stand-up comedians have long used the pathos of being overweight to hilarious ends, as well, and Hill showed himself a self-aware master of it in Superbad.

And sometimes he’s funny just because he’s funny, with a great sense of timing and line delivery. He first cracked me up in The 40 Year Old Virgin as the weird guy who just wants to buy the white disco boots. He was also a smaller role standout in Forgetting Sarah Marshall and Funny People, so it’s great to see him get a lead role.

It also got me thinking about my all-time favourite comedic portly movie characters.(Warning, not all the links below are safe for work.)

 

1. John Goodman as Walter Sobchak in The Big Lebowski (1998)

The unquestionable king in this category is The Dude’s sidekick, Vietnam veteran, gun shop owner, converted Jew, caregiver to ex-wife’s Pomeranian and concocter of outlandish schemes, Walter Sobchak. An explosive ball of pent-up anger, there’s not a scene in the The Big Lebowski that he’s in that isn’t laugh out loud hilarious, from the bowling alley rage eruptions (“Mark it ze-ro!!!) to ear-biting showdown with the nihilists. I once threw a Big Lebowski-themed party at a bar and dressed as Walter – it was strange, empowering and frightening. There’s nothing quite like stuffing a pillow in your shirt, putting on aviator sunglasses and telling people that you can get them a toe.

Opening bowling scene.

 

 

2. John Candy as Uncle Buck in Uncle Buck (1989)

Candy was the most famous of the big comedians and for good reason, as he appeared in so many goof ball classics, including The Great Outdoors, Spaceballs and Planes, Trains and Automobiles. But being directed by John Hughes (for the second time after Planes, Trains and Automobiles) in Uncle Buck made for his most memorable character: the rough, gruff, cigar-chomping relative who makes giant pancakes with a shovel and isn’t above tossing a quarter to a teacher and telling her to pay a rat to gnaw a giant mole off her face. What boy didn’t want an Uncle Buck after seeing that film?

 

School scene.

 

 

3. Chris Farley as Tommy in Tommy Boy (1995)

Saturday Night Live was never funnier than when it had Chris Farley pretending to be a figure skater, Chippendales dancer, down-on-his-luck motivational speaker “living in a van, down by the river!,” or even a hurricane. His films were hit and miss, but the chemistry between him and David Spade was perfect in Tommy Boy, where he’s a bumbling moron prone to hurting himself in every way imaginable, destroying a vintage car or tanking an important sale by losing his mind while warning a potential customer about the consequences of buying the competitors’ brake pads. It’s all about the red-faced, five-alarm freak-outs and no one did ‘em better than Farley.

 

Brake pads scene.

 

 

4. John Belushi in Animal House (1978)

Belushi created the stereotype of the reckless, slovenly, beer-swilling, stained toga-wearin’ party monster during his iconic turn as John Blutarsky. The zit gag where spurts out cheeks full of mashed potatoes (or is that a matzo ball?) in the school cafeteria may be the defining moment of his career, which says a lot considering his work on Saturday Night Live and his turn in The Blues Brothers.  Blutarsky was also clearly the inspiration for Jeremy Piven’s character in the hilarious PCU, and that counts for something too. Watch Beushi’s facial expressions in the clip below to see a guy who's a natural troublemaker.

 

Cafeteria scene.

 

 

5. Tom Cruise as Les Grossman in Tropic Thunder (2008)

OK, so technically, this is a guy in a fat suit, but hey, it’s still hilarious. (Besides, if I did a list of fat suit comedies, the only other actual funny one is, arguably, Mike Myers as Fat Bastard in the Austin Powers series.) Cruise surprised everyone by putting on a bald cap, fake paunch, a forest of arm hair and plenty of gold to play Hollywood strong-arm Les Grossman. His profanity-laced tirades are amazing, although nothing beats him dancing up a storm at the end of the film. Cruise definitely needs to do more movie comedy and less real life unintentional kooky celebrity comedy.

 

Losing it on the kidnappers scene.

I love movies about aging tough guys. The struggle to maintain masculine prowess in the face of physical deterioration is dude drama at its finest. Tonight I saw Harry Brown for the second time, which features a 76-year-old Michael Caine playing the retiree title character who employs his old military skill when the thugs that run rampant in his apartment complex kill his best friend. It’s a ruthless, violent film, in which the emphysema-afflicted hero uses his wits and skill with a gun to enact vengeance. Caine plays the role with such gravitas – imbuing the character with a fiery anger, calculating determination yet physical fragility – that is transcends the rather simple storyline.

Clint Eastwood, who turned 80 this week, has defined a good part of career exploring the effects of age on his tough guy persona. He first brought the idea of the aging hero to the forefront of the drama with Heartbreak Ridge (1986), in which we see his character struggling to keep up with younger marines he’s training, some of whom learn the hard way not to cross the wily, mean old man.

The aging hero theme has dominated Eastwood’s acting career of the past 25 years, becoming a major theme in almost every one of his movies, including also In the Line of Fire, Space Cowboys, Blood Work and Gran Torino. Of course, his absolute masterpiece is 1992’s Unforgiven, an insightful, layered dissection of the Eastwood persona, his career, the consequences of violence and the entire western genre itself. It remains his greatest work.

Eastwood, however, wasn’t the first western director to do this; others had been questioning the nature of the genre and the violent man of the west for decades. Sam Peckinpah did it in Ride the High Country (1962), Pat Garrett & Billy the Kid (1973) and his immortal The Wild Bunch (1969), all of which feature men’s men who live by a code but are a dying breed in the changing frontier, and decide the best way to go out is in a blaze of glory. John Ford also did it with John Wayne/Jimmy Stewart masterpiece The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance (1962), in which Wayne’s character realizes he’s a dying breed.

The most elegiac of all the aging tough guy movies, however, has to be The Shootist (1976). Directed by Eastwood’s main mentor, Don Siegel (Eastwood dedicated Unforgiven to him and Sergio Leone), it stars a 69-year-old John Wayne as a legendary gunfighter dying of cancer. As he realizes a life of violence has given him many enemies, no friends and no place to go in a world where the automobile is replacing the horse, he decides there’s only one way to go out... This was the last role for Wayne, the biggest western star in film history. It’s particularly heavy because the actor was dying of cancer at the time and knew it, making The Shootist the ultimate fading tough guy film.

There are plenty of tough guys who deny their age in the movies (um, human growth hormone-taking Sylvester Stallone anyone?), but the ones who star is stories about fighting Father Time are the most compelling on the big screen, crow's feet 'n' all.

 

-Dave Alexander