Star 80 (1983, Bob Fosse)

It's a testament to the intensity and visceral impact of Bob Fosse's final film Star 80, that a few days after re-watching it, Star 80-inspired dreams (nightmares?) were waking me up at all hours of the night. The recent Warner Archive-issued DVD of the film is its first-ever widescreen release on home video, at least in Region 1 land, and it has been long overdue.  The reality-based drama is not an easy watch by any means, due to its very upsetting, sordid subject matter--it dramatizes the rapid rise of Playboy Playmate Dorothy Stratten (played by Mariel Hemingway) and her tragic murder at the hands of her estranged husband Paul Snider (Eric Roberts).  It's almost unbearably dour and I debate with myself whether we really needed Fosse to turn his considerable gifts towards such a painful, relentlessly downbeat storyline.  All that said, large swaths of the film are eminently watchable due to the dexterity and fluidity with which former dancer and choreographer Fosse moves the narrative; it's a master-class in the "based on a true story" film, seamlessly weaving in and out from harrowing crime scene re-enactments, flashbacks to happier times, talking head-style interview segments, and some propulsive, entertaining montage sequences. Music--source cues and a period-specific, pop score by Ralph Burns--is expertly spotted throughout the picture and is an important part of Fosse's storytelling.  It's a shame that Burns' excellent music, which includes several original songs, was never released on a soundtrack LP so that it could have a life outside of the film.

After undergoing rigorous training to get in shape for her role as an Olympic athlete in Robert Towne's Personal Best, Hemingway transformed her looks again, including breast implant surgery, for the part of Dorothy Stratten in Star 80.  Where Eric Roberts was far prettier than the man he was playing, Paul Snider, Hemingway faced unfair criticism in some quarters for not being pretty enough to play Stratten.

Cliff Robertson is a very convincing Hef, though Hef himself was not so pleased with the depiction and sued the production because he did not like how he was portrayed.

Based on Teresa Carpenter's Pulitzer Prize-winning story in the Village Voice, Star 80 is one of the grimmest major studio films I can recall, which is saying something considering the film was made and released at a time when serious, cynical dramas were rapidly going out of fashion.  Like Cutter's Way or Mike's Murder, Star 80 is a "'70s movie" that somehow got made in the '80s.  As mentioned, it's a downer and, on top of that, it's a damning critique of Tinseltown and the star-making machinery. With those things in mind, it's not surprising that it was made by Alan Ladd Jr.'s Ladd Company, which, along with Orion Pictures, was one of the beacons of adventurous and uncompromising films in '80s Hollywood.  That such a film was financed and released at the time is also indicative of Fosse's clout, following three Best Director nominations and one win in the previous decade.

Longtime Playboy photographer Mario Casilli (whose subjects included Dorothy Stratten) was responsible for re-creating Stratten's Playboy layouts for the film. 

Star 80 is one of a handful of movies that I remember watching on late night network television when I was an 8 or 9 year-old kid in the guest room at my grandparents' house.  Obviously this is not a children's film and I could not appreciate or comprehend it wholly at that young age.  That said, as with Class of 1984, another film I discovered in much the same way, I watched Star 80 with rapt attention, and I point to it as a formative film for me, one that I think directly led to my longterm interests in character-based drama, more generally, and true crime stories in a more specific sense.

Hef's brother Keith Hefner portrays the photographer who takes the shots that get Dorothy into the Mansion. 

Although Hemingway is top-billed, it's Roberts' Snider that takes center stage and is the film's prime focus.  It's the kind of big, Method-y performance people usually go crazy for and for which awards are handed out...except for the fact that the character he's playing is such a piece of a shit.  Roberts would have other quality leading roles following this film, but I don't know that he could ever totally get out from under the shadow of having played Paul Snider.  

Mariel Hemingway with Lisa Gordon, playing Dorothy's kid sister Louise, called "Eileen" in the film.  When she was 20, Louise Stratten married Bogdanovich and they remained a couple for 13 years.

Much like Hemingway's prior film, Personal Best, Star 80 is based on very recent events, and both films benefit from the fact that they were made so soon after said events, before their respective milieus had changed too much.  Had Star 80 been made just a couple years later, I think it would've been considerably more difficult to re-create the period-specific details that the film revels in.  At the very least, it would probably have required a significantly higher budget for the art department (which included Academy Award-winner and previous Fosse collaborator Tony Walton). Even if one is not taken too much with the narrative of Star 80, I maintain that anyone with even a fleeting interest in disco-era Hollywood will find the film's textures and pop-culture content (apart from some legally-mandated name changes) riveting.  The art direction is specific enough that I caught a barely-visible (on the standard definition DVD-R, anyway) The In-Laws poster in the background of a 1979 LA street scene.

Hemingway's role in Star 80 has parallels with her previous star vehicle, Robert Towne's Personal Best, in that in both films she plays naive characters not developed or confident enough to extricate themselves from problematic relationships. 

Fosse and his music department (the aforementioned Burns) use Rod Stewart's (and Jorge Ben's) "Da Ya Think I'm Sexy" to perfect effect (I suspect the song was an inspiration to the real-life Snider), as well as the Billy Joel catalog ("Big Shot" and "Just the Way You Are"); the latter artist is also featured prominently and similarly effectively on the Personal Best soundtrack ("Rosalinda's Eyes").

In an inspired bit of casting, Fosse brought in Carroll Baker, whose starring role in Elia Kazan's Baby Doll had made her a sex symbol in the '50s, as Dorothy's "take no bullshit" mother.  Seen here refusing to sign necessary release forms for Dorothy, she is ultimately the film's most redeeming character.

Was the real Dorothy as sweetly naive and innocent and easily manipulated as Hemingway's Dorothy? She was a far from fully formed 20 year-old when she was murdered, so it may not be so far off from reality, but it doesn't completely jibe with other accounts I've seen and heard.  In Fosse's film, she is constantly acted upon, whether by Snider, Hefner (Cliff Robertson), or "Aram Nicholas" (Roger Rees). The film would have been stronger and less one-sided if Fosse had followed Dorothy to New York and shown her growth as an actress, her developing independence, and her love affair with Nicholas (Bogdanovich); however, this would have taken away from his thesis that everyone--Snider, Hefner, Bogdanovich, Playboy, Hollywood--exploited her, benefited from her, and deserved some share of the blame for her demise.  Instead, Fosse stays on Snider to the bitter end, while Dorothy remains a cipher throughout, and the film takes on an increasingly numbing inevitability and ugliness.  To be fair, I'm not sure this material could ever really be terribly revelatory or profound...it just would've been better--and more affecting--if Fosse had any interest in making Dorothy a three-dimensional character with agency.

In his feature film debut, the late British actor Roger Rees plays Aram Nicholas, the fictional character meant to represent filmmaker Peter Bogdanovich.  Bogdanovich's They All Laughed is dubbed "Tinsel Time" for legal purposes in Star 80.

Roberts has related that Fosse told him that Snider was Fosse, if Fosse had not become a success.  So I think it's apt that my favorite section of the movie--and which I think Fosse probably had the most fun doing--encompasses the scenes that depict the constantly-scheming Snider in his element in Vancouver, before he ever met Stratten.  I'd have rather seen Fosse keep on that track, making a movie about that disco-era scoundrel, who's plenty interesting and unpredictable, without veering down the road to murder.  

Trailer Not on the DVD: Star 80 (1983, Bob Fosse)

I posted a Star 80 TV spot a few years ago.  Now, from the Warner Archive VOD YouTube channel, we have what appears to be a theatrical trailer (sans billing block).  Hopefully, a widescreen Blu-ray (we can dream) or DVD of Fosse's final film is coming soon from Warner Archive.  There is an ancient, full-frame, feature-less DVD, which now seems to be OOP and quite pricey.

And, while we're on this topic, I must give a shout out to Ralph Burns for his highly effective, pop-inspired score.  The track on this trailer evokes "Tubular Bells" in a striking fashion; I can't recall if it appears in the film proper, but I assume it's a Burns composition.

More of Burns' awesome work--why was there no soundtrack LP for a BOB FOSSE film for crissakes?!--can be heard in the below scenes, to my ears, the music drawing inspiration from disco, Billy Joel, "I'm So Excited," and "On Broadway."  Love the American Gigolo vibe of the shopping scene.

These Roberts-centric scenes take on a fun, humorous quality, when taken out of the context of the larger narrative, which is, of course, quite tragic, disturbing, and unpleasant.  More than most other instances of actors essaying people who behave badly, that I can recall, Roberts plays this scumbag seemingly without any regard to how hate-able and pathetic the character and, by extension--he, comes off, resulting in a masterful performance.

This might have something to do with Roberts wanting to make his character (a statutory rapist) in the subsequent Runaway Train more sympathetic by changing him from a hardened New Yorker to a Southern country bumpkin.  And, it almost certainly impacted his future career in a negative way, as he became so associated with, and was so good at, playing a very bad guy.

At the start of the below video, Mickey Rourke preaches the gospel with regards to Roberts when he's supposed to be accepting his Spirit Award for The Wrestler.  Says Rourke, "Eric Roberts is the fuckin' man."

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.

Trailer Not on the DVD: Night Shift (1982, Ron Howard)

Just found another, high quality trailer for Night Shift!  This appears to be a teaser, with completely unique footage shot specifically for it.  I'm guessing the teaser does not appear on the DVD because of its use of "Jumpin' Jack Flash".  Stars Henry Winkler and Michael Keaton appear in the video and the v.o. artist's voice is very familiar, but I'm not certain of his identity; I'm sure a reader here will be able to fill in that blank.

"Ronnie" is interviewed in 1982, during the initial release of Night Shift, by Dallas entertainment reporter Bobbie Wygant.  She focuses quite a bit on the "nude scenes" and whether Howard had discomfort filming them.  There is some priceless raw footage of Ms. Wygant re-stating questions and practicing her laughs and reactions following Howard's exit.

Sunshine Noir

In an effort to shake things up a bit, I'm trying something new here.  With some help from my flatmate Clyde, I've finally started to learn some Final Cut basics and I've used those new found "skills," to construct a video essay of sorts.

Sunshine noir.  Swelter noir.  Yuppie noir.  Boomer noir.  For a few years, I've been thinking about some of the characteristics shared by several of my favorite neo-noirs of the early to mid-'80s and tried to attach a suitable moniker to this grouping.  I thought about writing an essay or article, but after a couple false starts, I realized constructing a short clip reel or video essay could be more effective and more fun.  The Cinefamily put together a series a couple years back calling some of these films, in addition to a few others, "Neon Noir."  For the record, I had already been thinking of my own "Sunshine Noir" series / article independent of the Cinefamily thing.

There is some crossover in these two strands, of course, but I think of these five films as being distinct from the Neon Noir sub-genre, which, incidentally, encompasses just about all of the cinematic antecedents to Nicolas Winding Refn's Drive.  Cinefamily's series came about a year before Drive and from what I understand, unfortunately, was not very well-attended.  Perhaps if it had coincided with the opening of Drive, it may have fared better.

 

Since I promised this wouldn't be a written essay, let's just go to the videotape and hope that it explicates things as effectively, or more so, than a written essay would.  Music is by Tangerine Dream, by the way.  "Love on a Real Train (Movie Version)" from Risky Business and "Igneous" from Thief.

Trailer Not on the DVD: Night Shift (1982, Ron Howard)

The guy who uploaded this trailer of Ron Howard's best film--well, it's this or Splash--apparently transferred it from his personal 16mm print; deep catalog 35mm prints from the studios are becoming so scarce, let alone 16mm ones, it's hard to believe they once struck 16mm trailers.

Soundtrack on the trailer features Burt Bacharach's eminently hummable "Night Shift" instrumental (the vocal version was performed by Quarterflash) and Al Jarreau's "Girls Know How."

Revisiting this one recently, I was reminded of what a treasure trove of gritty early '80s NYC footage we get here (it seems a few exteriors were filmed in L.A., however, and I think I spotted 'em all).  Its New York street cred is bolstered by an appearance by the one and only, Joe Spinell, as, what else, a sleazy gentleman's club operator.  During one of several Times Square drive-bys, we see a marquee boasting Sharky's Machine (putting at least some of the filming in very late '81 or early '82; Night Shift was released in Summer '82, while Sharky's was a Christmas '81 release). 

UPDATE: Found a version of this trailer that appears to be sourced from an old VHS tape. During the age in which they still packaged their videos in large, clamshell boxes, WHV sometimes stuck trailers at the end of the tape, following the feature presentation:

TV Spot Not on the DVD: Star 80 (1983, Bob Fosse)

Not only is this film not available on DVD in Region 1 in its O.A.R., but there is no trailer. There is / was a widescreen Australian disc, but it was also trailer-less. Whenever I see Eric Roberts on Celebrity Rehab I hope for a recovery and a late-career return to form that matches the intensity and talent the young Roberts displayed in King of the Gypsies, The Pope of Greenwich Village, Runaway Train, and, especially, Star 80. This is a tough film and performance to view and the vile nature of Roberts' character probably hurt his career as much as it helped it, but there's no denying it's great acting. Does the music at the beginning of this tv spot remind anyone else of Mike Oldfield's "Tubular Bells"? :