Showing posts with label Ken Wahl. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Ken Wahl. Show all posts
Thursday, February 14, 2013
Wednesday, July 18, 2012
Director's Cut?
Prompted by the publication of a new monograph on Philip Kaufman by Annette Insdorf, the Film Society of Lincoln Center recently presented a 35mm print of Kaufman's The Wanderers. FSLC dubbed the screening a "Director's Cut," and the print, indeed, came from Kaufman's private collection, but after watching it, it seemed to me to be a pre-release version of the film, perhaps shown to test audiences or exhibitors before the actual release date and before final editing tweaks took place. This "director's cut" contains numerous scene extensions and 1 or 2 other entirely new scenes. While they were fascinating to see, especially for someone like me who knows the film backwards and forwards, none of them improved the film to any appreciable degree. On the contrary, most of these bits highlighted either some shaky acting or over-writing or a little bit of both. The release version, which is perhaps 5 minutes shorter, is tighter, obviously,
and more effective, a case of the old "less is more" school of
thought. All that said, it would be wonderful to see this extra
material as a supplement on a future Blu-ray release (we can dream,
can't we?).
As an example of what I'm talking about, in the theatrical release version, Turkey (Alan Rosenberg) is slashed by a Ducky Boy after he puts his hand on the gang member's shoulder and propositions him with an invitation to a go somewhere like a park. A frightened, bleeding Turkey then runs and climbs from an ever-expanding phalanx of Ducky Boys before falling to his death.
The "director's cut," has Turkey explicitly ask the Ducky Boy if he wants a "blow job," to which the Ducky Boy responds with "Blow job?" and then viciously knifes Turkey. Turkey is then surrounded by a group of angry Ducky Boys to whom he pleads that he is "not a faggot!" and, in fact, a Marine (this coming after Turkey and a group of Fordham Baldies drunkenly sign up for Marine service). After this, the film transitions to what we see in the "regular" version of the film as Turkey is chased and terrorized to his death.
One of the most effective aspects of the release version of The Wanderers was that the utterly frightening Ducky Boys remain silent throughout; having the Ducky Boy verbally respond to Turkey's blow job offer, however, weakens the overall cinematic presentation of the Ducky Boys. Further, having Turkey more explicitly express his sexual desires and then loudly proclaim his heterosexuality is unnecessary; the writing is too on the nose.
There is another example later, in the "director's cut," of a character (John Friedrich's Joey) telling another (Tony Ganios' Perry) that he is, in fact, straight, not a "fag." If it was, in fact, truly Kaufman's desire to have this dialogue be as direct as it is in this alternate version of the film, I'd be curious to know what the motivation was and why it was cut. It may have been deemed to risque for 1979 audiences by the studio, but as the film stands now, in its shorter theatrical release length, the handling of this homoerotic material (which appears throughout the film and Richard Price novel) is more deft, more sophisticated, and smarter than what I saw the other night at the Walter Reade. Where the "director's cut" spells things out for the audience, the theatrical release version, shows us all we need to see.
Even with all of this additional material, one scene I've always been curious about remained m.i.a. It is illustrated in this lobby card and German still depicting a post-coital Ken Wahl and Karen Allen. The banjo Nina (Allen) strums is a tantalizing link to the later scene in which an out-of-place Richie (Wahl) spots her entering Folk City to see a young Bob Dylan perform "The Times They Are A- Changin'":
ADDENDUM: Michael Sragow confirms in this New Yorker piece that what screened at FSLC the other night was, indeed, a true "Director's Cut." Even with that knowledge, I must remain partial to the theatrical release.As an example of what I'm talking about, in the theatrical release version, Turkey (Alan Rosenberg) is slashed by a Ducky Boy after he puts his hand on the gang member's shoulder and propositions him with an invitation to a go somewhere like a park. A frightened, bleeding Turkey then runs and climbs from an ever-expanding phalanx of Ducky Boys before falling to his death.
The "director's cut," has Turkey explicitly ask the Ducky Boy if he wants a "blow job," to which the Ducky Boy responds with "Blow job?" and then viciously knifes Turkey. Turkey is then surrounded by a group of angry Ducky Boys to whom he pleads that he is "not a faggot!" and, in fact, a Marine (this coming after Turkey and a group of Fordham Baldies drunkenly sign up for Marine service). After this, the film transitions to what we see in the "regular" version of the film as Turkey is chased and terrorized to his death.
One of the most effective aspects of the release version of The Wanderers was that the utterly frightening Ducky Boys remain silent throughout; having the Ducky Boy verbally respond to Turkey's blow job offer, however, weakens the overall cinematic presentation of the Ducky Boys. Further, having Turkey more explicitly express his sexual desires and then loudly proclaim his heterosexuality is unnecessary; the writing is too on the nose.
There is another example later, in the "director's cut," of a character (John Friedrich's Joey) telling another (Tony Ganios' Perry) that he is, in fact, straight, not a "fag." If it was, in fact, truly Kaufman's desire to have this dialogue be as direct as it is in this alternate version of the film, I'd be curious to know what the motivation was and why it was cut. It may have been deemed to risque for 1979 audiences by the studio, but as the film stands now, in its shorter theatrical release length, the handling of this homoerotic material (which appears throughout the film and Richard Price novel) is more deft, more sophisticated, and smarter than what I saw the other night at the Walter Reade. Where the "director's cut" spells things out for the audience, the theatrical release version, shows us all we need to see.
Even with all of this additional material, one scene I've always been curious about remained m.i.a. It is illustrated in this lobby card and German still depicting a post-coital Ken Wahl and Karen Allen. The banjo Nina (Allen) strums is a tantalizing link to the later scene in which an out-of-place Richie (Wahl) spots her entering Folk City to see a young Bob Dylan perform "The Times They Are A- Changin'":
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
Greetings from the South Bronx...circa 1980-81


Just caught up with these two 1981 genre entries (one a straight-up police drama, the other a police-occult horror hybrid) via cheap DVDs from Amazon Marketplace. While neither was particularly well-received upon release, I see them as two more supremely valuable filmed documents of pre-gentrification, pre-Giuliani New York City, particularly the Bronx, which isn't seen as often in Hollywood films as some of the other boroughs. Aside from this, even though I know I shouldn't be at this point, I'm continuously fascinated by the way in which the studios can all pounce on the same idea at the same time; my favorite example of this is probably the "gang cycle" of 1979 and, here, on a smaller scale, we have the Bronx movies of '81, one made by Time-Life Films (distributed by Fox) and the other made by Orion (distributed by Warner). I would be curious to know of other mainstream Hollywood films, which made as much use of dilapidated Bronx buildings and neighborhoods as Wolfen and Fort Apache, The Bronx did, around the same time as these two pictures. Feel free to leave them in the comments section below.

Directed by Michael Wadleigh (Woodstock), Wolfen is stylishly filmed by Wadleigh, d.p. Gerry Fisher, and production designer Paul Sylbert, effectively using the same kind of p.o.v. thermography as Predator would several years later. Along with all of the great Bronx location work, which includes an abandoned church built and destroyed specifically for the film, Wolfen also has some beautiful footage of the Brooklyn Bridge, Battery Park, and some absolutely breathtaking shots from atop of the Manhattan Bridge. Albert Finney leads a great cast that includes Diane Venora, Edward James Olmos, Gregory Hines, Tom Noonan, and Dick O'Neill in a story about an ancient breed of wolves, with Native American connections, feasting on Bronx denizens that is perhaps a little leisurely and padded at just under two hours. That said, we're left with an air of mystery and ambiguity at the conclusion and have antagonists that are not entirely bad and, in fact, are admirable and sympathetic in many respects. Not having read the Whitley Strieber novel on which the film is based, I'm not sure how faithful the film is, or if my reading from the film is entirely correct. Nevertheless, I was mostly riveted throughout. If made today, Wolfen would probably somehow be even longer, but less nuanced and deliberate than the 1981 film in favor of more explicit f/x, horror, and gore.
I haven't yet read this scholarly piece on Wolfen and its representation of the Bronx, but it looks quite interesting.It's funny that I watched this right before my brother introduced me to this site, which features some magnificent and audacious illegally-shot footage from atop the Williamsburg Bridge and inside abandoned subway stations and tunnels.
Fort Apache, The Bronx boasts what is, as far as I can tell, the last action role for Paul Newman. At 55, the actor's age is not surprisingly used as a major plot point in this story of a veteran New York cop toiling away in the city's most dangerous precinct. I would agree with the criticism of the time that said that the film's overall construction and narrative felt quotidien and tv-like, but, with hindsight, the film looks a lot better because of its sincere approach, stellar cast (Newman, Ed Asner, Ken Wahl, Danny Aiello, Pam Grier, Rachel Ticotin, Kathleen Beller, Miguel Pinero, Paul Gleason, Randy Jurgensen, Sully Boyar), and the fact that material like this is almost never seen in Hollywood films anymore; 30 years later, a property like Fort Apache, The Bronx is almost solely the realm of television. As with Wolfen, my attention was held throughout and I got quite a kick out of the teaming of veteran Newman and hotshot Wahl, once again making me wish we'd seen more of Wahl after Wiseguy.
This trailer features a great v.o. and on-screen logo announcing Orion's involvement with Wolfen as well as some remarkable footage of decrepit Bronx buildings being demolished:The classic Vestron logo introduces this Fort Apache, The Bronx trailer that does not appear on the DVD:
Vintage television spot:

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