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Big Wednesday (1978)
Hollywood's Perfect Wave
"This movie is too good for surfers." Quentin Tarantino was asked about "Big Wednesday" once and this was his answer. Tarantino grew up in southern California and surfers, he says, were mean to him and his friends. Tarantino, however, knows a good movie when he sees one. This truly is Hollywood's "perfect wave", the only time the surf culture was portrayed accurately in a studio film. The surf community consistently refers to this film with reverence, citing it's depiction of the "soul" of surfing as being worthy of their hallowed endeavors in the water. After years of Frankie and Annette or, God forbid, Keanu Reeves, this is one they can be proud of. Writer-director John Milius was a surfer himself referring to it again in his most celebrated screenplay for "Apocalypse Now" ("Charlie don't surf!"). One of the keys to this film's authenticity is the fact that the three stars did a lot of their own surfing. Actually seeing their faces as they stand up for a ride is a bonus. William Kaat, Jan-Michael Vincent and Gary Busey (actually pretty big names from this era) were accomplished surfers, Busey learning for the role. The fine cast is rounded out by cuties Lee Purcell and Patti d'Arbanville and Sam Melville as the mystical mentor Bear. Keep your eyes peeled for legendary surfer Gerry Lopez, "Perry Mason"'s Barbara Hale, future Freddy creep Robert Englund, Larry Talbot from "Miami Vice" and Charlene Tilton and Steve Kanaly who both ended up on "Dallas". If you ever had a group of friends who did stuff together, you'll find this film has a lot of depth and soul. As Matt says after riding Big Wednesday "we drew the line". The three friends have validated the thing that consumed them as young men, that is riding waves and promising to be together when the big one hit. But they also acknowledge the need to embrace adulthood and put surfing where it should be. As Bear himself said "nobody surfs forever". Sad but true. It applies to all of us, no matter what we do.
The Apprenticeship of Duddy Kravitz (1974)
Something We Can Be Proud Of
A Canadian film that isn't a joke. Wow. 'The Apprenticeship of Duddy Kravitz' is a wonderful thing. Let's start with the novel. I read it as part of an English Lit class in High School and read it every autumn for seven years. It just goes so well with those first few blustery nights that arrive mid-October. Always tough for a screenplay to match up with a novel but novelist Mordecai Richler and Lionel Chetwynd were nominated for Academy Awards and lost to 'The Godfather Part 2's Coppola and Puzo - not bad. Wonderful to watch - just look at all the great street scenes, the country scenes, the autumn leaves, Duddy's well-lit apartment, Moe's Cigar Store...I mean, this is Canada keeping warm and cozy on a cool, October evening. The film, and the novel, are great to curl up with.
King Creole (1958)
To Watch 'King Creole' is to See the Light
I had an epiphany tonight. 'King Creole' is a better film than 'Jailhouse Rock'. 'Jailhouse' may contain King's best acting but 'King Creole' is his best film. Why? I would say King's acting is only slightly less convincing in 'Creole' but two things make it a better film: the cast and the story. 'King Creole' boasts the finest cast by far of any Presley film. Only Ann-Margret is sexier than Carolyn Jones, Vic Morrow has that ferocious mouth, Dean Jagger is almost perfect as the beaten father and Walter Matthau is deliciously vile. Harold Robbins' novel 'A Stone for Danny Fisher' is gritty and at times hard to read. Although the screenplay (co-written by 'Frankie Five-Angels', Michael V. Gazzo) is quite a bit more tame it is still tough. Think about it: King plays a character who kills a man in an alley with a switchblade. Here he is not 'Jailhouse Rock's amoral Vince Everett. Instead he is, at times, IMmoral. Forget all you think you know about the icon, Elvis Presley, and watch his eyes when, as Danny Fisher, he tells his father 'you go to school. I'm goin' out to make a buck'. If you don't see it, if you don't see IT, you're just not looking.
Lost Horizon (1937)
It Stands Alone
A film of absolutely staggering proportions. It's grandeur sparks the imagination like no other film. The story , as well as the man, Robert Conway, truly is breathtaking. It is a film to be discussed at length and to be held, if not above, then certainly apart from the rest of the classics of the early to mid 20th century. Epic in it's reach - astonishing in it's power to provoke thought.
The Falcon's Adventure (1946)
A "Casablanca" Among B Movies
How many reviews of this film will I have to write before I get it right? Tom Conway fully inherits the mantle of the Falcon from his real-life brother George Sanders with this entry. Decked out in beautiful double-breasted, single-buttoned, drape-style suits and cruising in gorgeous, 110%-steel cars with huge fender skirts and suicide doors that come up to your armpit, Conway travels from New York to Miami to keep a formula for industrial diamonds from falling into the wrong hands. His "client" is lovely, virginal Louisa Briganza who has got gorgeous hair but will let you only kiss her for the first two months. Along the way he runs into the type of colourful array of characters only a B movie could provide. His sidekick in this outing is perhaps best among Falcon sidekicks Edward Brophy as Goldie Locke who is given some really funny lines. He runs into sinister dish Doris Blanding, the type of '40's chick that you know puts out. Her cohort is Benny played by Steve Brodie who, twenty years later, was a Presley punching bag in two Paramount King movies. They both work for cold fish and yachting-cap-wearing Kenneth Sutton, ready to do what it takes to get the formula as he cruises his yacht to Brazil. Saddled with the stoniest Falcon-pursuing cops ever, this entry still reigns supreme. Forget those 120 minute melodramas, give me a 1 hour Falcon movie any day. I got a wife and two kids - who's got time for a two-hour movie? Shake up some dry martinis and forget your troubles with this great Falcon movie. But if you didn't tape it off local TV in Toronto like I did 17 years ago, you're out of luck.