Road Movie (1974, Joseph Strick)

Joseph Strick's Road Movie turns 40 this year, but you're less likely to hear about that than you are some of the others from the Class of '74 such as Chinatown or The Godfather Part II.  But, make no mistake about it: Strick's film is an American New Wave classic, albeit of the "lost" variety.  This is another of those scaled to actual life-size, downbeat, down and dirty, impolite, depressing, sad, and "sad funny" pictures--with a gut punch of an ending--that you've come to expect from the early to mid-'70s.  It's that era that continues to be a gift that keeps on giving, this time offering up Road Movie to me, seemingly out of the blue, to be discovered all these years later.  It's amazing to me that I didn't know about this film until about a month ago.  I've long been fascinated with truckers and their milieu, and, as such, I've tried to see most films set in that environment.  If you read this blog with any regularity, then you know that I'm obsessively drawn to the small, little-remembered films from the late '60s to the early '80s.  

Road Movie was one of the few films produced and distributed by New York-based Grove Press, much better known for its groundbreaking history in book publishing, including Henry Miller's Tropic of Cancer in 1961, later adapted by Joseph Strick for his 1970 film version.

Strick's film apparently lasted only a week at the Plaza Theatre on 58th and Madison.  Canby was also taken with Baff's performance and the Columbia University critic also had mostly good things to say about the film, particularly in comparison to Zardoz, which it was up against that week.

Yet, even given all that, I was completely unaware of Road Movie until I saw Who is Harry Kellerman and Why Is He Saying Those Terrible Things About Me?  What's the connection?  It's a "who": Regina Baff.  "Who?"  I didn't know who she was, either, until I saw her in the earlier film opposite Dustin Hoffman.  I thought her scenes were probably the best in a deeply flawed film, better than those of the Oscar-nominated Barbara Harris.  When I looked her up, I found a short filmography that pretty much ended over thirty years ago.  She was nominated for a Tony Award in 1974, but left acting for a career in psychology in the 1980s.  Which is just as well because if '70s cinema was, in large part, about unconventional-looking people--i.e. "character people," i.e. Regina Baff--becoming leading players and stars, the '80s...wasn't.  So, Regina Baff vanished from the public life of a movie actress, but not before she left an indelible mark as Janice, a truck stop prostitute, who makes a mess of the lives of the two independent truckers--Robert Drivas and Barry Bostwick--who pick her up at the start of the film.  

Bostwick and Drivas, as the independents who will come to regret adding an extra passenger at the Arena Diner in South Kearny.  Drivas' primary impact was on the stage, but film audiences will remember him from Cool Hand Luke and The Illustrated Man.  He died of AIDS-related illnesses in 1986.  Bostwick originated the role of Danny Zuko in Grease on Broadway in 1972, made The Rocky Horror Picture Show a year after Road Movie, made dozens of tv appearances, and starred in Megaforce.

Peace.

Director Strick spent time as a long haul trucker as a young man and this unique experience gives the film an authenticity and authority that it surely would not have had, had he been a complete outsider. Still, even with that on his resume, Strick took the then-progressive step of hiring a young female writer, Judith Rascoe, to write the script; she was teaching writing at Yale and had no film credits at the time.  Perhaps I make too much of it, but in the heavily masculine world of trucking, and given the trucker film's history as fodder for "exploitation" or grindhouse pictures, a woman writing the screenplay for such a film seems an unconventional and commendable thing.  No doubt, Rascoe provided a needed counterbalance and perspective to a scenario that could otherwise become, or be accused of being, misogynistic.  

Truck stop hooker Janice makes her entrance.  I recognized this spot from my many times driving on Routes 1 & 9 in NJ over the years.  I don't think this diner's been open for business for a long time.   Diner staff look on, entertained by the workers showing their wares in the parking lot.

The opening sequence is pretty remarkable to me for its use of montage--lots of impressive footage of truckers doing what they do on the road--and appropriate use of song (by Joan Armatrading, I think), with bluesy, squealing horns standing in for the undoubtedly loud argument between Baff and the john who throws her out of his car at the start of the film.

Heart of gold or road poison?  Treat her right and she'll do right by you.  Break one of her arms and she'll break both of yours.  

Regina Baff.  A face you won't forget.  She is up to the challenge of playing all the complexities of this role: from "real tough chick" to sad, pitiable creature to vengeful maniac, and everything in between.  She's been on the road so long, she's got no more "neutral," only 1st gear and overdrive.

I don't want to say too much more about the film, so as to avoid spoilers, except that I admire its portrayal of the ugliness and decrepitude of middle American backroads and highways, while resisting the urge to make something beautiful out of this ugliness. It also can't be ignored that Road Movie came decades before the ruins photography movement really took hold, aka "ruin porn," the now-cliche movement to photograph urban and rural decay and blight.  I think of Road Movie as one of those films, books, or LPs that many subsequent filmmakers, writers, or musicians owe a debt to without realizing it.

Some proto-ruin porn.

The movie is surprisingly available on DVD and has been for well over a decade.  It's a non-anamorphic letterboxed presentation, which, unfortunately, does not fully do justice to longtime documentary d.p. Don Lenzer's appropriately gritty cinematography.  It is one of those "best available source" deals, in this case being an actual release print, complete with the expected scratches, dirt, and occasional missing frames or soundtrack hiccups.  The score is by veteran British composer Stanley Myers, whose music for Douglas Hickox's Sitting Target is one of my most prized and loved soundtrack LPs; his music is here is alternately bluesy, jazzy, haunting, and spare, performed by an impressive line-up of English session players.

Other memorable faces to look out for in Road Movie include Barton Heyman, David Bauer, Martin Kove (who later acted in another trucker classic: White Line Fever), and a very, very young Joe Pantoliano.

The film is a good companion piece to Trucker: A Portrait of the Last American Cowboy, published a year later.

Not unlike the effect used for the Rain People one-sheet.

So, if you're looking for the truly unsung, prototypical "'70s movie" (or, "road movie," take your pick) which almost nobody ever mentions or even knows...Road Movie is your man movie.

Trailer on the MOD DVD: Boulevard Nights (1979, Michael Pressman)

Michael Pressman's Boulevard Nights gets lost in the 1979 gang movie shuffle that also includes The Warriors, The Wanderers, Over the Edge, and Walk Proud, but it's an effective and sobering drama which is worthy of reconsideration.  It was initially lambasted by critics and special interest groups in the wake of violence in theaters where it and The Warriors screened.  The film was criticized for being a routine drama that resorted to Mexican-American stereotypes.  In the years since, it's become a cult film in the Latino community, particularly for its portrayal of lowrider culture, and while the narrative is not exactly fresh or all that surprising, the good performances, particularly lead Richard Yniguez, and period, cultural details make it better than it might sound on paper.  The relationship drama between Yniguez, his longtime girlfriend Marta DuBois, and his troubled younger brother Danny De La Paz, is predictable for the most part...the difference is, at least in 1979, we still hadn't seen too many, if any, versions of this story with Latinos in the lead roles.  

I'd have liked to see the filmmakers concentrate more on the relationship of Yniguez and DuBois, but I suspect that the studio and moneymen pushed the gang content and requisite revenge plot. Yniguez plays the part of a former gang member turned hard-working auto mechanic.  His girlfriend works an office job in a white collar environment and wants Yniguez to follow suit, but part of him still wants to be king of the Boulevard, showing off his souped-up wheels and taking part in lowrider car-hopping contests.  His younger brother is constantly in trouble and getting more deeply involved in the neighborhood gang, VGV.  It is a not so thinly veiled Latino variation on Saturday Night Fever, with the Boulevard, of course, taking the place of the 2001 Odyssey, and the car-hopping reminiscent of Manero's dance contests or the mechanical bull at Gilley's.  Yniguez and DuBois play well off each other and are an attractive couple and I was more interested in the possibilities of the drama surrounding their relationship, rather than Yniguez' futile efforts to get his younger brother out of the gang.  

Here's a good interview with Yniguez, who, unfortunately, did not get many opportunities outside of Latino-specific roles.  He can also be seen in the lead role in the 1976 telefilm, The Deadly Tower, also available from the WA.

The above trailer is quite effective, mixing evocative still frames with a propulsive Latin beat courtesy of maestro Lalo Schifrin, and good, dramatic voiceover from a Latin-American-accented v.o. artist. This trailer is available on the DVD-R from Warner Archive, which features a film-like, unrestored 16X9 transfer complete with original Saul Bass red and black WB logo.

The film was lensed by top-notch cinematographer John Bailey, who was fresh off of operating camera on Days of Heaven, and who would move onto a decidedly more upscale end of town with his next film, Paul Schrader's American Gigolo.  Check out Bailey's blog on the ASC website.

The "VGV" graffiti scrawled on this Warriors display in Gigolo is an inside joke seemingly perpetrated by d.p. John Bailey.  It is the graffiti tag of Danny De La Paz's gang in Boulevard Nights.

Independence Day (1983, Robert Mandel)

Robert Mandel's Independence Day is a film that probably would have remained off of my personal grid for awhile longer had I not been so won over by its lead actor in another film I just watched.  It's pretty hard to keep one's eyes off of Kathleen Quinlan in Lifeguard...and, this led me to seek out Independence Day, which stars Quinlan, David Keith, Dianne Wiest, Cliff De Young, Frances Sternhagen, and Josef Sommer.  The narrative focuses on the lives of several of Mercury, Texas' inhabitants through a short but turbulent time period, mixing some conventional drama with endearingly oddball characters and tonal shifts, resulting in a small gem, which should be better known than it is. That its title will mean that it's forever overshadowed by the completely unrelated 1996 blockbuster of the same name is unfortunate.

I was familiar with the film, but had not actively sought it out even though it's the type of piece that fits firmly in my wheelhouse: a little-remembered, early '80s, low-budget American drama with a cast of accomplished character players.

It's never been on DVD, however, and the Warner Archive, unfortunately, reports that there are currently no plans to add it to the collection, something which would help rescue the film from its current obscurity.

@nedmerrilla1 No plans.
— Warner Archive (@WarnerArchive) March 7, 2014

As soon as I re-familiarized myself with the basics of Independence Day, I thought it might be included in a couple of my longtime "go-to" cinema books--Produced and Abandoned and Danny Peary's Guide for the Film Fanatic.  I was surprised to find that there was no entry in the former, but my instincts were correct about Peary, who lists the film in the back of his book and calls it an "S" (sleeper) and "PR" (personal recommendation).

I first picked those books up when I was in high school and, and aside from my own personal tastes, I must credit them for pointing out so many of the weird, off-the-beaten-path, unfairly neglected works--often those aforementioned dramas--that I've held close to my heart for the past couple of decades.  All of this is to say that Independence Day is similar to a number of my favorite films, but it's passed me by for one reason or another all these years.  I "checked off" most of those Peary Fanatic and Cult Movies titles long ago, so it was satisfying to circle back and experience one of them for the first time now.

Independence Day is set in the small town of Mercury, Texas.  It seems like it comes from a novel or a series of novels that take place in the same town and this makes some sense since screenwriter Alice Hoffman is primarily a novelist; this, though, is a completely original screenplay rather than an adaptation.  Mercury diner waitress Mary Ann (Quinlan) holds onto her dream of attending art school in Los Angeles to study photography, while race car-obsessed Jack (Keith) has just returned to town after failing to stick in an unspecified school or program (it's almost as if his character from An Officer and a Gentleman did not kill himself after quitting officer's training and has instead come home).  They meet cute and begin a courtship whose longterm status will be tested by Mary Ann's aspirations to get out of town and Jack's to stay there and fix and race cars.  The chemistry between the actors and the quirks that Hoffman has written into their characters insures that this relationship rises above standard issue drama.

For Mercury, Mary Ann is unconventional, sexually worldly, and, as a woman, unusually outspoken and comfortable in her own skin.  For anywhere, she is an enormously talented, promising photographer (this is verified by renowned photographer / professor Burt Remsen when he visits her family's home to offer her a scholarship).  And, so I'm sure I'm not the only viewer who finds Jack incredibly lucky when Mary Ann shows interest in him, which is not to say that Hoffman does not also imbue him with appealing and surprising qualities.  He has an innocence and a gallantry about him that is very refreshing. His loyalty to his sister (Wiest) and the tenderness he shows her is quite beautiful.

In fact, what's most interesting about Mary Ann and Jack's dynamic is the way in which Hoffman has reversed the usual gender roles in the relationship: Mary Ann goes after Jack, she is more sexually experienced and more enlightened than Jack, and she won't hesitate to drop Jack if he tries to persuade her to scrap her school plans and stay in Mercury.  She's always got either a stiff drink or one of those long, brown cigarettes in her hand, while Jack drinks only Cokes. Keith and Quinlan are both so good here and I'd have loved to see them get more leading opportunities in feature films.

On the other side of town, we have the film's other primary couple: Jack's sister Nancy (Wiest) and her abusive husband Les (De Young). Mandel and Hoffman deserve credit for depicting this abuse in all its forms and not shying away from some pretty tough material, as do the actors, for playing it honestly and without flinching at the most brutal scenes.  No one can accuse De Young of being unwilling to play unrepentant sons of bitches without any sort of vanity (see: Reckless, F/X, Harry and Tonto, etc.) and Wiest gets my maximum praise for her three-dimensional characterization, which goes beyond stereotypes into some unexpected places.  The less known about this going into the film, the better.  Wiest also has some of the best scenes of the film in her one on one time with both Keith (they actually look like they could be brother and sister) and Quinlan.

Equally good in less expansive roles are Sternhagen and Sommer as Mary Ann's supportive and loving parents.  The film threatens to get a little maudlin, as Sternhagen's character is dying of cancer, but Sternhagen's strong, heartfelt performance in her key scene with Quinlan nullifies that for me.  Same goes for Sommer in his father / daughter moment with Quinlan towards the end of the film.

The late Richard Farnsworth appears in a few scenes as Jack's boss at the garage, but does not have much to do.  Longtime character player and Texan Noble Willingham plays Jack's father and Brooke Alderson, who was well-utilized by James Bridges in Urban Cowboy and Mike's Murder, appears as a fellow waitress in the family diner where Mary Ann works.  D.p. Charles Rosher Jr. doesn't have a huge filmography, but among his credits is recent Obscure One-Sheet favorite The Baby Maker.

Although both Mandel and Hoffman are northerners, this is not a film that portrays the South or southerners in a pejorative or condescending way, at least to my northern eyes.  In addition, the characters and situations are convincingly working-class, something that stands out more and more as the years go on, and working-class characters and scenarios become essentially extinct in major studio films.  Hopefully, this Independence Day will become more accessible sometime soon--Warner Archive, please--and get that second chance that so many other worthy titles have received in the DVD and Blu-ray age.

Director Robert Mandel on set.  Mandel's subsequent film F/X is a much different beast, though it shares with Independence Day excellent, well-drawn performances across the board, including that of Cliff De Young.

Warner Archive Pre-Code Bounty Part I: Bette Davis in '33

For lovers of pre-Code films, particularly those originally produced by Warner Bros., First National, RKO, and MGM, the Warner Archive's been a blessing.  I've recently written about Parachute Jumper, Mandalay, and Downstairs, and to these I'll add a few notes about The Working Man and Ex-Lady.  One Way Passage, The Hatchet Man, Skyscraper Souls, and Employees' Entrance will follow shortly.

Similar to the way that Humphrey Bogart was indebted to Leslie Howard for boosting his career, so it was that Bette Davis had George Arliss to thank for giving her sagging career some much-needed help. An established star of stage and screen in the early '30s and an Academy Award-winner for Disraeli (1929), Arliss had the clout to get young Davis, who had recently been let go by Universal, a key role in his 1932 vehicle, The Man Who Played God.  Davis won raves for her performance and was signed to her first long-term contract at Warner Bros., which would be her home studio for the next two decades.  Stars Arliss and Davis and director John G. Adolphi returned in '33 for The Working Man. It's a prototypical Depression-era drama, with comic touches, which bears some similarities to My Man Godfrey, as shoe manufacturing company owner Arliss goes undercover and masquerades as a "working man" in his late rival's firm in order to keep the spoiled heirs (Davis and Theodore Newton) from squandering their fortune.

Arliss and Davis have a wonderful father-daughter-type chemistry and there's no shortage of amusing scenes in which the rich behave foolishly while "working folk" like Arliss set them straight. It's a light and entertaining piece with a dramatic arc that moved me in spite of its predicability; for modern viewers, however, an air of unintended sadness hangs over this production because Adolphi would die only a month after its release in a hunting accident while supporting cast member Gordon Westcott, a pre-Code mainstay, would be killed in a polo accident two years later.

Next out of the WB chute for Davis was Robert Florey's Ex-Lady. Released only a month after The Working Man, in which Davis played a naive, post-adolescent, Florey's film pushes the calendar ahead several years, casting Davis in the titular role--a seasoned pro--one which she fills convincingly.  It would be the first time she was top-billed at WB. Here, she's an archetypal pre-Code woman--often played by contemporaries like Norma Shearer or Barbara Stanwyck--smart, sassy, independent, and not ready to settle or settle down. She plays a highly successful graphic artist content to keep her passionate love affair with ad exec Gene Raymond nuptial-free, despite the loud protestations of her traditional German-American father (Alphonse Ethier).  When they do tie the knot, each finds that it's difficult to resist the urge to stray a bit.

In spite of her much-critiqued (by male studio execs) physical appearance, Davis has no problem being sexy and alluring in Ex-Lady, while also getting in some great, progressive speeches about wanting to be able to live life to its fullest and achieve individual successes without being married.  Gene Raymond is a bit of a cad here, but I still like him; he's particularly winning with Loretta Young in Fox's Zoo in Budapest, released only a couple weeks prior to Ex-Lady. The young John Heard, as seen in films like Chilly Scenes of Winter and Cat People, reminds me of Raymond, both physically and in temperament.

Invaluable WB company player Frank McHugh brings his dependable brand of humor, often of the drunken variety, to his role as Davis and Raymond's wealthy pal.  The beautiful Claire Dodd, so often the "other woman," is seen too briefly for my tastes as Mrs. McHugh, whom McHugh pretends he's cold to for fear that she'll leave him if he reveals how crazy he actually is about her.

Monroe Owsley, who was tragically felled by a heart attack at only 36, is delightfully and slimily frisky as an uber-persistent suitor who makes clear that he only wants to lay Davis so that he can finally remove her from his list of unconquerables...this one ain't pre-Code for nothin', folks.

Hands on.

Trailer Not on the DVD: Lifeguard (1976, Daniel Petrie)

Daniel Petrie's Lifeguard might also be called "Magic Rick" after the character that Sam Elliott plays in the film, which almost certainly helped inform Steven Soderbergh's Magic Mike.  Elliott fits the role of the titular lifeguard like a glove, or, rather, a bikini and he, accordingly, gives a top-notch performance. He looks good, he's got good screen presence, and he convincingly radiates that zen attitude that I imagine all successful beach lifers (bums) must have to survive. As something of an Elliott neophyte, I was pleasantly surprised at how taken I was with him as Rick Carlson, a former surfing champ who remains a lifeguard at the local beach into his 30s.  Rick is still in top shape, is good at his job, and has no problem attracting beautiful women to his bachelor pad or lifeguard station after hours. However, a combination of events and chance meetings, including a pivotal visit to his 15-year high school reunion where he reconnects with his former flame Anne Archer, leads Rick to seriously re-evaluate his life decisions and current standing.  

Now that I'm in my mid-30s and older than than the "lifeguard" by a few years, I view stories like this, from past generations, with greater interest and, obviously, with a different perspective than I would as a younger person.  Without spoiling things too much, I think it's safe to say that Lifeguard offers a satisfying affirmation for those of us who have not chosen "traditional" paths into adulthood.  Rick's father, who can be seen in the trailer admonishing his son for pretending he's still "a kid at the beach," would be at a complete loss if confronted with a good majority of today's twenty and thirtysomethings who are often further from "settling down" than their counterparts in their parents' generation, such as Rick.

Despite light touches such as composer Dale Menten's Beach Boys-like main theme (a re-working of Paul Williams' "Time and Tide") and its PG rating, Lifeguard has a melancholy vibe that runs throughout the film, which proves to be a moving, well-crafted character portrait that fits in with many of its better known '70s brethren.  The misleading one-sheet does nothing to dispel the impression that the film is an innocuous, bantamweight piece of fluff.

Like so many '70s PG films, Lifeguard, as constituted, would almost surely be an R in today's marketplace.  There is full nudity from Sharon Clark (a former Playmate of the Year) who plays Rick's stewardess fling, casual references to and examples of sexual harassment--from both horny teenage boys and dirty old men, and a sexual relationship between a minor and an adult factors heavily into the plot.  That said, nothing seems exploitative about any of these things and I would guess that in the mid-'70s none of this raised many eyebrows.

My first thought when I think of Elliott is as the "Marlboro Man" personified so it's nice to see him play a stud of a different variety. But, Elliott is more than an overaged Adonis here, bringing a good deal of weariness and self-deprecation to the table.  Kathleen Quinlan is truly beguiling and quite sympathetic as a lonely high school girl who falls for Rick.  Her scenes with Elliott are, I think, the best in the film. I also like Parker Stevenson as Rick's college-aged lifeguard partner, their dynamic similar to that of the veteran cop and his rookie partner.

To my eyes, the film's main weak point is the relationship between Rick and his former sweetheart Cathy (Anne Archer), who is as beautiful as one would expect "living legend" Rick's high school girlfriend to be.  But, she's shallow and cold in a way that makes one hope Rick won't end up with her, even if she represents a pathway to a more "adult" existence for Rick.  I can't tell if this is how the character is written or if that's just what Archer brings to the role...I must admit that my anti-Scientologist sensibilities make me think, half-seriously, that Archer's falseness and coldness are connected to her membership in that cult.

Canadian-born Petrie directed a lot of television, both series and telefilms, including the acclaimed Sybil, also from 1976.  Of the handful of feature film directing jobs on his resume, in addition to Lifeguard, I'm an admirer of Resurrection, the last five minutes of which I find devastating, Fort Apache the Bronx, which I've previously written about here, and Buster and Billie, which stars one of my favorite '70s leading men, Jan-Michael Vincent.

The d.p. was Ralph Woolsey, who came up in television in the '50s and '60s and graduated to feature films in the '70s, in time to shoot a number of oddball features--I mean that in the best way--such as 99 and 44/100% Dead!, Rafferty and the Gold Dust Twins, Deadhead Miles, The Mack, Mother, Jugs, and Speed, and The Great Santini.

Among screenwriter Ron Koslow's later credits are Michael Apted's Firstborn, a film which I've always had a soft spot for and John Landis' Into the Night.  When I saw the latter screened a few years back, with Landis in attendance, the director told the audience that he re-wrote Koslow's script almost entirely and that, in order to placate the perturbed writer, he was a given a producer credit.

The Warner Archive, though its distribution of Paramount product, has rescued Lifeguard from the pricey, out-of-print dustbin.  The copy I received was a pressed DVD that would appear to be a port of the original Paramount DVD issued in the early oughts, and includes a subtitle track, which is unusual for WA discs.  The attractive cover art has an image--that does not appear in the film--of Elliott and Quinlan leaning on each other with contemplative expressions on their faces, an image similar to the one used for the VHS artwork.