#252. The Morning After (1986)

 

 

As much as I love a slow burn thriller, I can also appreciate one that doesn't waste any time. So the opening scene of The Morning After, in which a hungover woman wakes up next to a murdered body, made a great first impression. Right off the bat, the story's got some personal stakes and narrative urgency, and I immediately found myself on the side of this character who's trying to figure out what the hell happened.

 

After that, though, the movie settles into a more routine and casual presentation. It's kinda disappointing considering where we started, and the mood's rarely as palpable as I'd like from here on out (though at least Sidney Lumet can be counted on to keep things tight), but I was still able to enjoy the workmanlike plotting, the neo-noir atmospherics, and the central relationship's compellingly dubious dynamic.

 

Plus, while some of the character stuff doesn't quite work (there are times where it's genuinely hard to tell whether this woman cares about, or even remembers, her present situation), the attempts at development go over well, and Jane Fonda and Jeff Bridges are so natural and sympathetic in their performances that they mostly manage to overcome the script's tonal and structural inconsistencies.

 

Grade: B+

 

#246. Stand and Deliver (1988)

 

 

Prior Viewings: 1

 

Saw this one, predictably enough, in our middle school gym during an assembly. I can still recall our principal (and this is my lone memory of the guy) accidentally introducing it as Stand by Me and everybody being audibly disappointed when another faculty member corrected him.

 

That initial feeling mostly ceased by the time the movie got going, though. Stand and Deliver may be a fairly formulaic bit of academic schmaltz (I do give it credit, however, for hopping on that trend relatively early), but there's a reason why every school on the planet has it in their rotation: it's educational, it's inspirational, and it gives kids an underdog tale that they can relate to. Our group absolutely ate it up. 

 

Watching the movie again as an adult, it's clear that certain aspects of the story are total fiction (no way are a group of teens, regardless of their background, making that kind of educational jump in under a year), and the storytelling's sometimes a bit rushed and messy, but the feel-good presentation, as well as the committed performances from Edward James Olmos and Lou Diamond Phillips, are typically enough to overcome those defects. That's the stuff that left an impression when I was thirteen, and it's the stuff that still works on me now.

 

I do wish it got me to actually care about calculus, though. But I guess that's more of a me problem. 

 

Grade: B+

#239. Something Wild (1986)

 

 

For roughly the first forty-five minutes of this movie, I was having a decent enough time. I liked the rom-com premise, the charming chemistry between Jeff Daniels and Melanie Griffith, and the impulsive spirit, but the experience as a whole wasn't exactly rocking my world, either, and there were moments where I found myself thinking that both the script and the jokes were starting to wear a bit thin.

 

Then Ray Liotta showed up.

 

The second this dude appears on screen, everything shifts. The mood immediately becomes dark and dangerous, the stakes increase exponentially, and I suddenly found myself far more invested in the plot. Even if this change is only here to add some fresh conflict, I was thrilled to go along with it, and I think the fact that Liotta pulled it off while still fitting the manic tone really speaks to his abilities as an actor. 

 

It also, of course, speaks to Jonathan Demme's abilities as a filmmaker. His fearless approach is so consistently energetic and eccentric that I think the moods blend pretty seamlessly. Plus, I'm just a sucker for sudden-yet-smooth left turns in general, and I like my comedies on the darker side to begin with, so I guess it was an easy sell in my case. Makes the journey that much quirkier, that much scarier, and, ultimately, that much more romantic.

 

Grade: A

#232. Used Cars (1980)

 

 

Watching this one, it's clear to me that Robert Zemeckis always had an aptitude for cartoon zaniness. Used Cars might be a bit more raucous and inconsistent than much of what came later, but the energetic humour and chaotic set pieces (I'm starting to notice that car stunts peaked in the early '80s) showcase a young talent who's not afraid to get wildly creative with scripts and visuals.

 

This enthusiasm also allows the movie to remain dark and cynical without getting unbearably sleazy, which is a winning tone in my mind. And it of course helps that our hero is played by a post-Disney, pre-comeback (unless you count Elvis) Kurt Russell, who manages to turn a total sleazebag into a charming go-getter. In fact, the entire cast is able to keep things light and broad, and it enhances both the laughs and the satire.

 

On the negative end, though, the approach can get pretty unwieldy at times. There's too much plotting for my liking, and the pacing routinely feels uneven (while I enjoy the action-heavy third act, for example, it goes on for far too long). But I can easily forgive some messiness if it leads to more lunacy, especially when said messiness is arguably part of the charm.

 

Grade: B+

 

#223. Prom Night (1980)

 

 

I'm a ridiculously easy mark when it comes to slasher-whodunits. Even in the case of something like Prom Night, which isn't especially creative (it's basically Friday the 13th in a Carrie costume), doesn't have as many suspects as I'd like, and is pretty tepid as far as violence goes, I was nevertheless absolutely absorbed by the mounting tension, intriguing mystery, and killer dance moves.

 

I think it helps that the movie doesn't mind taking its time. Sure, it results in an extremely dry opening hour, with maybe a few too many scenes centered around blah characters and dynamics, but it also keeps the slow burn suspense simmering for as long as possible, which draws things out in such a well-paced way that the eventual chase scenes actually have some weight and urgency to them. 

 

Beyond that, I liked the school setting, the warm, glowing, almost dreamlike cinematography, the faint echo of the dance music in some of the scarier sequences, the two main casting choices (while Leslie Nielsen doesn't have a big part, it's always a treat to see him in a serious role), and the clumsy action, which only adds to the overall believability. I guess I can understand why this movie doesn't have a stellar reputation, but I'd be lying if I said that I didn't have a lot of fun with it.

 

Grade: A-

 

#211. Project A (1983)

 

 

Okay, I can see that these Hong Kong martial arts movies are going to take some getting used to.

 

Like, obviously I knew better than to expect seamless dubbing, but I wasn't quite as prepared for the borderline-amateur technical aspects (for instance, there are almost zero establishing shots here, so each scene just kind of awkwardly crashes into the next one), bizarre tonal shifts, and weirdly dense plotting. I don't even know if these defects are specific to Project A or if they're simply par for the course with this subgenre, but, either way, it made it really hard for me to get wrapped up in the story, to the point where I was starting to zone out in between all the action.

 

But I guess the action is why we're here, and it doesn't disappoint. Every single fight scene is a striking display of creativity, athleticism, timing, and certifiable recklessness not seen since the days of Buster Keaton, and they consistently took my breath away. In particular, the back-to-back bicycle and clock tower sequences are just spectacular, even if they result in the movie peaking far too early.

 

Now, is the action good (and plentiful) enough to make everything else worth sitting through? It's a pretty close call in my opinion, but I'll go with a tepid "yes". Even when the movie's at its least accessible, you can always tell that Jackie Chan is trying his absolute hardest to entertain, and I admire that level of effort.

 

Grade: B-

 

#207. An American Werewolf in London (1981)

 

 

Prior Viewings: 2

 

There aren't a ton of horror-comedies that manage to succeed as both horror and comedy, but American Werewolf is one of the few that walks that difficult line nearly perfectly. And I think that's because John Landis never really allows the genres to get in the way of each other. As much the scares tend to come with playful nods to werewolf tropes (lycantropes?), they're also played straight enough that none of the intended intensity is lost.

 

But it's not just the balance of tones that makes this movie great. It's also the murky, fog-shrouded atmospheres, the simple-yet-effective locations (I'm a sucker for a spooky subway station scene), the fantastic music choices (why include just one version of "Blue Moon" when you can have three?), and, of course, those killer makeup effects. We're all aware that the transformation scene is iconic, but I'm also a huge fan of Jack's rotting flesh - particularly that little piece of skin that dangles from his neck.

 

Plus, there's something kind of lax and awkward about the movie that I find mildly endearing. Even if it makes the result a bit imperfect (some of the timing choices, like the ending, still don't fully work for me), it keeps things from getting too smug or clever for its own good, which ensures that the homage/contemporary equilibrium is just as sturdy as the horror/comedy one.

 

Grade: A

 

#200. Peggy Sue Got Married (1986)

 

 

Couldn't get into this one, unfortunately. As much as I enjoyed the fantastical premise, the cute setting, and the quirky performances from our two leads (overwhelming lack of chemistry notwithstanding), the movie as a whole just didn't click for me. 

 

I don't know if that's because the script rarely bothers to play around with its time travel concept, or because I couldn't quite grasp the intended tone (I found the comedy pretty weak, and I could never tell how sincere the attempts at sentimentality were), or because the storylines were kinda draggy, or because I'm simply getting tired of boomer nostalgia, but, whatever the reason, I was mostly checked out by the hour mark.

 

The one element that kept me on course, though, was Nic Cage. You can say he's the worst part of this movie, and you certainly wouldn't be wrong to hold that opinion (the dude looks out of place every single time he shows up), but his absurd voice and terrible hair and inexplicable vampire energy made things a lot more fun and endearing for me. If every other element was similarly excessive and silly, I might have come out with a better understanding of why this thing has so many fans.

 

Grade: C+

 

P.S. It feels wrong seeing young Cage share the screen with young Jim Carrey. That's simply too much unbridled crazy for one frame.

 

#190. The Secret of My Success (1987)

 

 

A.K.A. The Secret of My Succe$s, which is a baffling place to put the dollar sign. If the word it's being used in already starts with a capital S, that's clearly where it should go, right?

 

Prior Viewings: 1

 

Both times I tried this one, I expected to find it more charming than I did. The foundation's mostly there: a winning premise, a pleasant tone, a high rise setting, a bouncy score (and plenty of it; there's gotta be twenty montages here), an extremely charismatic lead, and a few fun supporting characters. And yet, it never quite comes alive for me.

 

Much of that probably comes down to the corporate plot, which is excessively convoluted and rarely absorbing, but I think it's also because the whole thing feels so low-effort. The script doesn't really have anything new or interesting to offer, and while I generally appreciate a pronounced soundtrack, the selections are largely uninspired. In particular, I can't pretend to be okay with two separate uses of "Oh Yeah" when Ferris Bueller clearly claimed that song the year before.

 

Still, it's all certainly watchable enough. I like Michael J. Fox, I like the "two lives" shenanigans, and I like the energetic atmosphere. There's a lot of '80s appeal here, but too much of the movie is humdrum and recycled for me to recommend it, or understand how it managed to outgross Lethal Weapon, Dirty Dancing, and Predator.

 

Grade: B-

 

P.S. Another family member, Michael? This is starting to feel like a pattern.

#181. Brainstorm (1983)

 

 

There's a reason why the only times you ever hear about this one are when people discuss Natalie Wood's sudden and mysterious death. And that's because, in pretty much all other regards, there just isn't a whole lot worth talking about. 

 

Okay, maybe that's a bit harsh. I suppose Brainstorm has value. The premise, for instance, about technology that can project one person's consciousness and sensations onto another via headset, is pretty creative and ahead of its time, and the sci-fi visuals are generally quite stunning. But that's basically where my compliments end. Everything else feels off to me, from the weak acting (Wood looks bored, Louise Fletcher is all over the place, and I don't even know what Christopher Walken's going for) to the atrocious dialogue to the choppy editing to the uneven sound mixing. And the result is a bewildering, insta-dated misfire, at least in my opinion.

 

Even the alternating aspect ratios, which, sure, probably look really cool in a theater setting, are mostly jarring on a home screen. All the non-virtual scenes (which is ninety percent of the movie) are now covered by both vertical and horizontal black bars, which causes everything inside to look boxed-in, small, and inconsequential. Makes the whole experience feel less cinematic to me, not more.

 

Grade: C

#167. Still of the Night (1982)

 

 

As you already know, if there's one genre that's almost guaranteed to enthrall me, it's neo-noir mysteries from the '70s and '80s - particularly the ones that were influenced by Hitchcock and giallo (which probably explains why I'm such a big De Palma fan). So while Still of the Night is a fairly safe and otherwise unremarkable little movie, the fact that it manages to hit all of those qualifiers means I predictably really enjoyed it.

 

Something that does marginally set this one apart, though, is the conspicuous lack of stylizations and operatics. That sounds like it should be a negative (and maybe it is; the presentation can be a little dry at times), but it allows for a simple story, some dreamy pacing, a lot of cool, crisp autumnal textures, and a quiet mood - one that makes the transition from drama to thriller to horror feel surprisingly seamless. 

 

And even if the runtime is a bit on the meager side, I think some of those later set pieces, as well as the long, single-take Meryl Streep monologue (while we're here: she's probably overqualified for this character, which causes her to feel mildly miscast, but it's nevertheless kinda cool to see her in a femme fatale role) make for a satiating experience overall.

 

Grade: A-

 

#163. Labyrinth (1986)

 

 

Prior Viewings: 1, though I'm no longer certain I actually saw the whole thing, because all the stuff I remembered happens in the first half.

 

My fifth grade teacher actually showed this one to us, and, in hindsight, I'm glad she did. Ten is basically the perfect age to handle a darker fairy tale while still being kinda scared by it (okay, a few elements were downright terrifying to me - particularly Bowie himself), and that sense of danger really makes the whole experience feel stirringly vivid and real. 

 

Watching the movie again over twenty years later (I didn't enjoy doing that math), it still feels vivid and real, but that's mostly because I'm now far more appreciative of the '80s creativity on display. The practical puppets are adorably tactile and full of life, and the labyrinth itself is just a fantastic series of sets and set pieces. There's a new design and creature around every corner, and they all really come together to bring this nightmarish world to life.

 

Sure, the story becomes a little repetitive here and there, and it starts to lose some steam after the Fire Gang scene (though the Relativity-inspired climax gets us back on track), but this setting is ultimately so imaginative and weird that I can live with a meandering narrative. 

 

Grade: B+

 

#156. They Live (1988)

 

 

Prior Viewings: 1

 

When I marathoned John Carpenter's filmography a few years back, They Live was actually one of my least favourites (maybe not bottom three, but close). And I think a lot of that had to do with the fact that I couldn't conflate the satire being so outlandish and on-the-nose compared to the dreary presentation. I was expecting something quick and silly in the vein of Big Trouble in Little China, and what I got instead was honestly much closer to Dark Star.

 

Now that I knew what tone to expect, though, the dryness and overall story started making a lot more sense to me. Granted, I still think the first third's a little bland and the final third's really sloppy, and the Meg Foster stuff continues to flatline for me, but I was much more compelled by the rhythmic pacing, the downright hypnotic scoring, and the arrow-straight commentary this time. This movie might not have Carpenter's usual energy, but it sure has his pulse and bitter sense of humour.

 

It also has two of the best scenes of his career, and you likely already know what I'm talking about. The first is where Roddy Piper initially puts on the sunglasses, which is just a great bit of worldbuilding. And the second is the unending alley brawl, which feels like it takes up a third of the runtime, and which is the exact brand of kinda sincere/kinda tongue-in-cheek excess that fits this movie like a glove.

 

Grade: B+

 

#153. Cop (1988)

 

 

Here's a movie that, at least story-wise, is about as generic as they come (which I suppose makes the simplistic title pretty apt), with its serial killer premise, obsessed/corrupt protagonist, and generally seedy vibe. And yet, I dunno, maybe I'm just weak to this kind of thriller in general, but I otherwise found it sturdy and atmospheric enough that these cliches didn't really bother me.

 

Part of that simply comes down to the plot, which, basic as it might be, kept me invested (I was into the mystery, the methodical presentation, and the untrustworthy characters), but I think it's ultimately the Jameses, both B. Harris and Woods, that take this one to the next level. The former uses dark cinematography, dingy settings, moody scoring, and harsh imagery to lend some noirish style to this economic procedural, and the latter is at his smarmy best, somehow managing to remain charismatic no matter how frequently or overtly he crosses the line (which is why you hire him in the first place). The result is undoubtedly trashy, but it's fun, well-crafted trash.

 

And if you're into trash as much as I am, then you'll probably agree when I say that the final line is priceless.

 

Grade: A-

 

#138. Veronika Voss (1982)

 

 

A.K.A. The Longing of Veronika Voss

 

She is big. It's the pictures that got small.

 

Veronika Voss is about a washed-up actress who is desperately trying to cling to her ever-decreasing relevance, and is slowly being driven insane in the process. It's basically the German Sunset Boulevard (which is to say that it's heavier on experimentation and lighter on humour), with huge emotions and striking visuals to match. In particular, I love those sterile white environments, which coldly and clinically reflect this poor woman's controlled state of mind.

 

Unlike Sunset Boulevard, though, the movie's not quite as focused, tonally or narratively, as I'd like. Rainer Werner Fassbinder (maybe the most German name I've ever heard) has a lot of interesting ideas, but many of them seem to get slightly lost in the shuffle, especially the ones regarding love and addiction. And while the subplot with the evil doctor is easily the most compelling conflict in the movie, it's so cartoonish and over-the-top that I'm not sure how well it gels with everything else.

 

Still, it all works on a stylistic level (the use of lighting here is fantastic), and most of it works on an emotional level. Whatever issues I have with this one, there's a sad cruelness to it that's likely to stick with me.

 

Grade: B 

 

P.S. This is the last place I expected to hear "The Battle of New Orleans". It really works, though, in an unusual, almost nightmarish kinda way.

 

#126. Ms .45 (1981)

 

 

A.K.A. Angel of Vengeance. I like that title better, mainly because there's something about Ms .45 including a period before the 45 but not after the Ms that bugs me.

 

Exploitation can be a tough tightrope to walk. You need to incorporate all the typical hallmarks (violence, campiness, exaggerated acting), while still presenting a tender side - something the audience can root for. And Ms .45 strikes that emotional balance in the form of a vulnerable young character who gets pushed to her limits after being raped twice in the same day. Fun premise, right?

 

Actually, it is kinda fun. Once Thana decides she's gonna get some revenge, it's just scene after scene of her taking out her frustrations by shooting men in the head. And while it starts to get slightly repetitive after a while (and it feels like a bit of a copout that almost all of these guys are assholes who get what they deserve), it's still cathartic and entertaining stuff. And Abel Ferrara's scuzzy direction greatly adds to both the realism and the deranged state of mind.

 

Unlike King of New York or Bad Lieutenant, I can't see myself returning to this one all that often. But the action sure packs a similar punch, and Zoë Lund's powerful and emotive performance is right up there with the likes of Walken and Keitel.

 

Grade: B+

 

#121. Pale Rider (1985)

 

 

Here's how I know I'm getting older: I'm starting to love these formulaic westerns.

 

By the '80s, Pale Rider wouldn't have been anything new. It's basically just Clint Eastwood's take on Shane, with some spaghetti style and grounded realism sprinkled in. And yet, because the movie's about a quiet and mysterious (and possibly supernatural?) outsider who comes to town to save some poor villagers and take on a handful of evil capitalists, I was naturally riveted. Even with the slow burn storytelling and lack of action, the compelling drama and foreboding atmosphere was enough to keep me invested.

 

It also helps that Eastwood's direction is as rock-solid as it is. The storytelling is extremely fluid (to the point where even the cornier subplots work for me), the many landscape shots are breathtaking, and the score is so tense that it sounds like something out of a horror movie. Plus, the climax is absolutely worth the wait, with its wonderful suspense, brilliant use of blocking and staging, and well-earned action.

 

I feel like this one's long been overshadowed by Unforgiven, but it really wouldn't surprise me if, a few years and a handful of rewatches down the line, I consider them to be equals - or perhaps even give it the edge.

 

Grade: A

 

#104. The Living Daylights (1987)

 

 

Prior Viewings: 3-4

 

If you asked me, point blank, to pick a favourite movie franchise, I wouldn't have to think twice before answering: it's Bond. James Bond. I adore this ridiculous series, and have for roughly as long as I've been familiar with film as a medium (which is my way of preparing you in advance for a lot of unusually high grades). Like, were I to jot down a list of the hundred movies I watched the most when I was a kid, I'm dead certain that every one of the first twenty 007 entries would qualify. 

 

Well, make that nineteen. For whatever reason, I almost never returned to this one. Probably had something to do with the lame and underdeveloped villains, the downright convoluted (even by these movies' standards) plot, and my fraught feelings on Timothy Dalton. In any case, as recently as two days ago, I would've asserted that The Living Daylights was among my least favourite Bond adventures.

 

Not anymore. This past viewing finally made everything click for me. Yeah, the villains and plot are still pretty blah, but I was really taken with the tonal balance this time. It's just a solid mix of visual spectacle and grounded stakes, made even better by that killer opening, a strong supporting cast, generally solid pacing, and some of the best stuntwork in franchise history.

 

As for Dalton, I continue to find him a little uptight for this particular outing (his frigid presence gels much better with a darker tone, and we'd see in his one and only follow-up), but Maryam d'Abo humanizes him with perhaps the sweetest performance of any Bond Girl. The two are a cute pair.

 

Grade: A-

 

P.S. That Necros dude really needs to expand his musical library.

 

#101. Times Square (1980)

 

 

I kinda like it when movies are of their time, if for no other reason than because they tend to serve as effective time capsules, and you'd be hard-pressed to find a more 1980 movie than this. Times Square is caught right between the seedy, rebellious angst of the '70s and the poppy sellout excess of the '80s, and the result is something of a sweet-yet-sleazy punk fairy tale, one that showcases the allure of New York City without ever glamorizing it.

 

Granted, it's all pretty trivial and aimless and nonsensical, with large swaths of the runtime consumed by a whole lotta nothing, but I suppose "aimless" and "nonsensical" are quite apt for a story about adolescent frustration. And even if the uglier and messier qualities don't always feel completely intentional, this is one of those cases where the shoddy cheapness still contributes to the overall mood and attitude. I mean, that's essentially the whole appeal of punk in the first place, right?

 

Plus, on the rare occasions where the movie manages to combine its gritty street photography with that fantastic soundtrack and Robin Johnson's superbly believable performance, it reaches near-documentary-levels of authentic.

 

Grade: B

 

#87. The Package (1989)

 

 

For context: The Fugitive is one of my all-time favourite movies. Top ten for sure, probably top five. So when I watched this one - also directed by Andrew Davis - and found an unusual amount of overlap (right down to the use of the Hilton), I was immediately on board.

 

Like The Fugitive, The Package is taut and clever, consistently tense, brimming with chilly Chicago atmosphere, and even manages to make some room for an intriguing little mystery. These similarities probably aren't saying much for the former's originality, but both movies are so snappy and sharp and well-textured (and, of course, stylistically nostalgic to me) that they make for incredibly easy viewing.

 

Plus, it also has a number of strengths in its own right. There's an added tinge of paranoia to the story, which helps to tighten the screws and raise the stakes, and I like the relationship between Gene Hackman and Joanna Cassidy. It's somewhat rare to see a slightly older couple center this kind of thriller. And the smaller roles from Dennis Franz, Pam Grier, John Heard, and, yes, Tommy Lee Jones provide a lot of personality, even if the latter three aren't as present as I'd like.

 

Most people probably wouldn't consider this movie to be anything special, but I guess we've hit on one of those cases where I'm not most people. I thought it was suspenseful, absorbing, well-plotted, full of flavour (there's also a Christmas vibe here), and further evidence that Davis might be among my favourite action directors.

 

Grade: A