Showing posts with label Cruising. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Cruising. Show all posts

Saturday, August 22, 2015

"Who is that guy?!" Fun City Edition


Here's a series of 3 opening credits sequences to imaginary television shows taking place in the Fun City universe, starring some of the many character actors--and some leading men--of the New York-set films of the late '60s - early '80s.  The music on the soundtrack is 3 different iterations of Billy Goldenberg's theme song from "Harry O," a San Diego-set p.i. show starring David Janssen.  So, this clip is both ode to the consummate, often unheralded character players, as well as to the lost art of the television opening credit sequence.

The video was originally part of the pre-show reel for the Deuce's 35mm screening of Night of the Juggler.




Wednesday, September 11, 2013

Japanese Herald Gallery: Cruising


As most longtime readers here know, I collect Japanese heralds (programs) and I like William Friedkin's Cruising.  So, it was inevitable that I'd acquire the Cruising program at some point and post some pics here.


Leave it to the Japanese to trumpet or fetishize certain aspects of Western films and culture that would be handled more delicately, so to speak, on these shores.  Take the Cruising herald, which contains a shopping guide to leatherman accoutrements, a "Cruiging" map of leather bars in lower Manhattan circa '79 - '80, as well as tabloid clippings from the post-Cruising shooting deaths at the Ramrod in November '80.

I wish the text of this program, in particular, was in English because, based on the images, it appears there is a lot of focus on the soundtrack, locations, and real-life controversies (i.e. protests against the film and the aforementioned shootings). 

Friedkin meets his public.

The original Warner DVD of Cruising is out-of-print.  It's recently been reissued by the Warner Archive as a manufactured-on-demand (MOD) DVD-R.  That disc contains all the bonus content (commentary, trailer, doc) that the original pressed DVD had.


Thursday, July 25, 2013

Dirty Old New York aka Fun City, Part III


Dirty Old New York aka Fun City continues with the third, but not final, installment.  Parts I and II have been updated recently.  Dirty Old New York Subway is here.




As it turns out, there will be a Part IV, which is already about halfway done.  Perhaps that will be a good place to stop.  I will continue to augment previous pieces, if I come across footage that fits too well to exclude.

Thursday, May 30, 2013

Lost in the Lost 40 Minutes


As the credits of William Friedkin's Cruising roll, you'll see the names of James Hayden and Ray Vitte, but you won't see them in the actual picture.  That's because Hayden, tantalizingly credited as "Cockpit Coke Man," and Vitte, whose name appears in a block of performers with no assigned character names, appear to have been removed entirely from the final cut of the film.  I suspect that both actors were part of the fabled 40 minutes that Friedkin excised from the film prior to its initial theatrical release by UA and Lorimar in February 1980.  Sometime between then and Warner Bros.' purchase of Lorimar's holdings in 1989, those 40 minutes were discarded and seemingly lost forever.  This is doubly tragic because not only does it deprive fans of the film of even more Cruising, but it deprives audiences of additional performances from Hayden and Vitte, two promising young actors whose lives and careers were cut way too short.  I haven't seen James Franco and Travis Mathews' Interior. Leather Bar., a re-imagining of the missing 40 minutes, but I'd guess that Hayden and Vitte were not on their radar when they undertook their project.  Thirty years ago, though, it would be surprising if an actor in Franco's place wasn't aware of Hayden and Vitte.

Ray Vitte as he appeared in his biggest feature role, Bobby Speed, in Robert Klane's Thank God It's Friday.
I was too young to know of their work when they were alive, but as a teenager in the early to mid-'90s, I discovered Hayden in Once Upon a Time in America and Vitte in films such as Thank God It's Friday, Car Wash, and Up in Smoke.  As these films became favorites of mine, I was drawn to the charismatic, handsome Hayden and Vitte and when I researched these actors, I was saddened to learn that both died extremely young, in 1983, before they were able to build the bodies of work that their talents were worthy of.

James Hayden (middle) in his breakthrough role in the 1983 Broadway revival of David Mamet's American Buffalo, opposite Al Pacino and J.J. Johnston.
When I finally saw Cruising a few years later at Film Forum, I was surprised to see Hayden and Vitte in the credits and figured I'd missed them somewhere in the crowds of hedonistic young men who appear throughout the the film.  After repeated viewings, I confirmed to myself that I hadn't actually missed them somewhere and that they simply weren't in the final (and only available) version of the film.  It was within the next couple or three years that Friedkin began talking about a missing 40 minutes in interviews; there was hope that he'd be able to locate and re-integrate some or all of that footage into a new version of the film for DVD.  As it turns out that, that footage is no longer extant and the filmed record of the "Cockpit Coke Man" and unnamed Ray Vitte character appears to be gone for good.

Hayden (middle), backstage with Pacino and unidentified friend.
There is an excellent, in-depth New York magazine profile of Hayden, archived here, that goes into much further detail about the actor's humble beginnings, fast rise, and untimely passing...

Hayden (second from left), in his most significant film role, as Patsy in Leone's Once Upon a Time in America.
In short, Hayden was coming off acclaimed Broadway turns in a revival of Arthur Miller's A View From the Bridge and David Mamet's American Buffalo, supporting Al Pacino, and had a role in the upcoming Sergio Leone gangster epic Once Upon a Time in America, opposite Robert De Niro, when he succumbed to a heroin overdose in the early morning hours of November 8, 1983.  He was a few weeks shy of his 30th birthday.  Bold-faced names at his Queens funeral included co-star and close friend Al Pacino and Mickey Rourke (who dedicated his performance in The Pope of Greenwich Village to Hayden).  Hayden had recently been accepted by his friend Lee Strasberg into the Actor's Studio.  On the young actor's passing, Arvin Brown, who directed him in his two major theatrical roles, characterized him as a "great artist" and "genius," whom he compared to a young Meryl Streep.

With De Niro on location in Italy.
Hayden was a Brooklyn boy, whose working-class background would suggest an acting career was unlikely, but after a stint in the army as a 17 year-old in the waning years of Vietnam, he entered the American Academy of Dramatic Arts, supported himself with the usual odd jobs, and eventually ingratiated himself with the company of David Rabe's The Basic Training of Pavlo Hummel starring Pacino.  He was allowed to clean up backstage and cultivated a friendship with Pacino, which likely led to his role in Cruising.*  A few years later, Hayden was starring opposite Pacino and J.J. Johnston in the revival of Mamet's American Buffalo.  Famously loyal to his friends, Pacino would lobby hard for Hayden to get the role of Manny in Scarface, but the Black Irish Hayden was deemed less suited to the role than Steven Bauer.  Hayden, though, quickly got over that setback by landing a key role as a member of De Niro and James Woods' gang in Leone's Once Upon a Time in America.

Hayden doesn't necessarily get any big, "look at me," moments in the Leone film (those belong to the stars, Woods, in particular), but I've always been especially fond of the glee mixed with cold-blooded efficiency that he displays as he surprises Burt Young's rather despicable mafioso, Joe.  It's his chance to step out of the shadow of De Niro and Woods.

On the underrated The First Deadly Sin with Sinatra.
But, there was a dark side to Hayden and he struggled for years with a heroin addiction that started when he was a teenager in the Army and which he kept hidden from most.  So it was with sad irony that Hayden would die from an overdose while talking long distance with his wife just hours after receiving standing ovations for his performance as a junkie in American Buffalo.  Hayden had once told a reporter that the greatest tragedy of Vietnam was the widespread drug problems that tormented soldiers brought back with them.  Even though he had been spared a tour in-country himself, the still-impressionable teen apparently picked up a drug habit through his contact with returning servicemen. He spent his remaining years battling this addiction while also trying to help his lifelong best friend kick his own debilitating drug dependency, a battle they both sadly lost.  Hayden didn't live to see the release of Once Upon a Time in America and his death prompts the inevitable "What might have been?" question, as does the death of his Cruising compatriot Vitte.

As Rodolpho in Miller's A View From the Bridge (with Saundra Santiago) in a performance he dedicated to the memory of his late best friend Michael Kukul.
*Hayden's good friend Jay Acovone would land the pivotal role of Skip Lee in Cruising and famously cry out, "Who is that guy?!" during the infamous interrogation scene.

Jay Acovone, as Skip Lee, being threatened with the ominous-sounding "floating ball" test in Cruising.
A fellow New York native, Ray Vitte did most of his professional work in television and film on the other coast, so Cruising stands out in his abbreviated filmography as one of the only films or television episodes he shot in New York.   I would love to know how Vitte came to be in New York for the 1979 production of the film and what his part entailed, and wonder if Mr. Friedkin has any recollection of the up-and-coming actor on Cruising.

As Bobby Speed in publicity still for Thank God It's Friday.
A few years prior, he appeared on Broadway in Ron Milner's What the Wine-Sellers By, directed by Michael Schultz (Car Wash), alongside a host of notable black actors of the day.

An early head shot.
According to a 1977 Soul Magazine profile, Vitte got his professional start in a play at the Scorpio Rising Theatre in the early '70s, which was followed by several years of solid episodic work and small to medium-sized roles in a number of Hollywood features, including Airport '75, Mother, Juggs, & Speed, Nine to Five, A Force of One, Heart Beat, in addition to the aforementioned films.

This profile of Vitte presents a man who credits "the Creator" for the good things in his life and who also believed in the power of pyramids, after being introduced to that form of spirituality by the legendary Gloria Swanson on the set of Airport '75.
There is not as much easily accessible information about Vitte's off-camera life and even the questionable circumstances of his death, following a struggle with the LAPD, are frustratingly murky and incomplete.  On February 20, 1983, after what was described as some kind of mental breakdown in his Studio City home, in which Vitte was heard loudly ranting and "religious shouting" for some 12 hours, police officers were called to the residence by neighbors.  In the process of being apprehended by the police and after a physical altercation, the unarmed Vitte died, a death officially attributed to "liver degeneration as well as heart failure."  The Vitte family and attorney Johnny Cochran brought forth a lawsuit disputing that official story, but I don't the know the particulars of the case or what kind of resolution there was, if any.  Vitte had spent time in the hospital earlier that month with a high fever, which may have contributed to his mental state on the day he died, but he had no drugs in his system at the time of death, and friends, including Donna Summer, and family attested to the fact that he was not a drug user.  There was a struggle with police, but authorities described his injuries from the fight as "superficial."  It certainly sounds like another well-earned black eye for the LAPD, but, as I said, details are scant.  Times obit and Jet article on Vitte's death.  Vitte was 33.

As Geronimo, in Car Wash, with Richard Pryor.
In the pieces that I've seen Vitte in, he easily essays the part of fun-loving and, sometimes, wild dude, with the good looks, charm, and comic timing to make it look easy.  I'm interested to see more of his dramatic work, which would be represented in his episodic gigs on hour-long dramas such as Harry O, now available via Warner Archive.

Sporting a great look in Car Wash.
As with Hayden, it's natural to wonder what might have been with Vitte, had he lived. We'll never know that answer, but with renewed interest in Friedkin and Cruising, due to his recently-published memoir and Franco's Interior. Leather Bar, perhaps we can at least get a clearer picture of Hayden and Vitte's roles in that lost 40 minutes.
With Nick Nolte (as Neal Cassady) on John Byrum's Heart Beat.

Tuesday, March 5, 2013

Ghost of Serpico

David Shaber's original script for Nighthawks was developed as the basis for a second sequel to French Connection (with Richard Pryor as a wisecracking cop who teams up with Popeye), but Gene Hackman refused to reprise his role as Popeye Doyle again and the script was re-worked for Sylvester Stallone and co-star Billy Dee Williams. From the long locks and facial hair of a beefier than usual (at the time) Stallone, it's clear that the filmmakers (or the star himself) also had another famous '70s real-life and cinematic New York cop in their heads: Frank Serpico.  They're not so interested in the politics or methods of Serpico, nor the realism or tragic qualities of that film, but Stallone's sunglasses, beard, and long hair are surely meant to inspire memories of Al Pacino in his iconic role on a purely surface level.

Stallone's beard was apparently suggested by then-girlfriend Susan Anton, seen here with Warhol, receiving one of Sly's characteristic fake punches to the chin.

In one scene early on, Deke DaSilva (Stallone) and his partner Fox (Billy Dee Williams) scale a tenement via fire escape in order to make a bust.  It's reminiscent of a moment in Serpico in which Pacino uses the same method to enter a building.  I've mashed up these two scenes, as the parallels in costuming and physical appearance are rather striking.


The same scene in Serpico also has a shot of Pacino walking down a street and into building, which is similar to a shot in the actor's later vehicle, Cruising, in which he lazily swaggers home to his girlfriend (Karen Allen) after another night out in the Meatpacking District.  His appearance is completely different in terms of clothing and hairstyle from that of Serpico, but the mise-en-scene and the actor's movements are nearly identical.  In terms of performance, the two scenes reveal an aspect of an actor's bag of tricks--in this case, the way he moves to suit a character and the camera--that is not cited as often as his verbal abilities.




Saturday, August 18, 2012

Cruising's Original Color


Some captures from a DVD-R I made several years ago, pre-DVD release, of a cable broadcast of Cruising.  These stills more closely reflect the original theatrical look of the film before it was re-colored / re-tinted by director William Friedkin for the film's DVD release in 2007.  I earlier posted about this here.

Please forgive the sub-DVD quality of these clips--they come from a non-HD broadcast--but they are better than VHS, at least, and in the correct aspect ratio.  If you see one of the '90s-era 35mm prints struck by Warner Bros. you'll get a very good sense of how much the film was altered for its DVD release, with the color palette being the most striking difference, in addition to some new transition and slow-mo effects (I am not fond of those alterations, either); the club scenes, in particular, are stripped of much their original color in favor of a very pervasive blue hue, which covers everything.

I do hope that if Cruising is released on Blu-ray, Friedkin follows a similar course that he did with the re-released French Connection Blu-ray, wherein he and d.p. Owen Roizman restored the look of the original theatrical prints to Blu-ray.  Roizman was none too thrilled with the first French Connection Blu-ray, supervised by Friedkin, and which had a radically different color scheme.  I wonder how Cruising d.p. James A. Contner feels about the DVD of the film, which has undergone a similar transformation and which I don't think he had any part in.  The disclaimer pictured below was removed by Friedkin in the DVD version of Cruising.