Showing posts with label Harold Ramis. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Harold Ramis. Show all posts

Saturday, July 25, 2015

It's In the Hole ... Well, Not Exactly



"Cinderella story, out of nowhere, former greenskeeper, now about to become the Masters champion. It looks like a mirac ... It's in the hole! It's in the hole!"

Carl (Bill Murray)
#92 on the American Film Institute's list of the Top 100 movie quotes of all time

I have friends who will tell you that "Caddyshack," which premiered 35 years ago today, was the greatest comedy ever made. I'm not one of those people. The first time I saw "Caddyshack," I got some chuckles out of it, but I figured that you had to be a golfer to really appreciate the humor — as haphazard as it was — and I still feel that way. I have never played a round of golf in my life.

Film critic Roger Ebert may have put it best. The movie, he wrote, "never finds a consistent comic note of its own, but it plays host to all sorts of approaches from its stars, who sometimes hardly seem to be occupying the same movie. There's Bill Murray's self–absorbed craziness, Chevy Chase's laid–back bemusement, and Ted Knight's apoplectic overplaying. And then there is Rodney Dangerfield, who wades into the movie and cleans up."

Dangerfield shook things up, all right.

But, even so, I found "Caddyshack" to be a disjointed tale with humorous scenes linked together by a story that really wasn't much of a story.

"The movie never really develops a plot, but maybe it doesn't want to," Ebert wrote. "Director Harold Ramis brings on his cast of characters and lets them loose at one another. There's a vague subplot about a college scholarship for the caddies, and another one about the judge's nubile niece, and continuing warfare waged by Murray against the gophers who are devastating the club."

Each of those subplots had its moments, but the movie never really united those elements behind a single story. As I said, golfers probably got a lot of the humor. Much of it escaped me — or came across as hopelessly juvenile.

"Maybe one of the movie's problems is that the central characters are never really involved in the same action," Ebert wrote. "Murray's off on his own, fighting gophers. Dangerfield arrives, devastates, exits. Knight is busy impressing the caddies, making vague promises about scholarships and launching boats. If they were somehow all drawn together into the same story, maybe we'd be carried along more confidently. But 'Caddyshack' feels more like a movie that was written rather loosely, so that when shooting began there was freedom, too much freedom, for it to wander off in all directions in search of comic inspiration."

It did have a kind of improvisational quality to it — sort of a "Whose Line Is It Anyway?" goes golfing (with some sailing on the side). Don't misunderstand. Improv can be good. Sometimes it can be very good. But I can't think of an example when it worked in the motion picture format.

The thing is that I liked all the stars — but in what I regarded as their own milieus. Ted Knight was great as Ted Baxter on the Mary Tyler Moore Show. Chevy Chase was funny on Saturday Night Live — which he had left a couple of years earlier and was replaced by Bill Murray, who struggled at first with a skeptical public but eventually endeared himself to viewers and found his niche on the show.

But I just never got carried away with "Caddyshack." I remember seeing it when it first hit the theaters — and laughing at the obvious points that tend to amuse young viewers. But much of it — like the Baby Ruth bar floating in the swimming pool — just didn't amuse me after I got past that stage in my life.

I'm not even sure I was amused by that the first time I saw it.

Saturday, June 07, 2014

Who Ya Gonna Call?



Ray Stantz (Dan Aykroyd): I tried to think of the most harmless thing. Something I loved from my childhood. Something that could never ever possibly destroy us. Mr. Stay Puft!

Peter Venkman (Bill Murray): Nice thinkin', Ray.

Stantz: We used to roast Stay Puft Marshmallows on the fire at Camp Waconda ...

Venkman: Ray has gone bye–bye, Egon. What you got?

Egon Spengler (Harold Ramis): Sorry, Venkman, I'm terrified beyond the capacity for rational thought.

I was saddened by the news about three months ago that Harold Ramis had died at the age of 69.

And I was dismayed by the rumors that a "Ghostbusters 3" was in the works.

Because I am one of those people who believes that a "Ghostbusters" movie without Ramis wouldn't be — couldn't possibly be — as good as either of the first two.

The first one made its debut 30 years ago — on June 7, 1984.

I don't know how reliable those rumors are, but it just wouldn't be right to try to recapture the magic — even if Dan Aykroyd and Bill Murray return.

It really wasn't a matter of Ramis being so integral to the story. He wasn't my favorite Ghostbuster.

But the key is that the three of them were a team. In his review of the movie, Roger Ebert described them as "smart graduate students who are in on the joke."

They made it possible for "Ghostbusters" to achieve something special, Ebert wrote — a successful "head–on collision between two comic approaches that have rarely worked together ... (1) a special–effects blockbuster, and (2) a sly dialogue movie."

It was that style of rapid–fire dialogue that I found so appealing in The West Wing TV series.

I don't think the TV series' creator, Aaron Sorkin, was involved in "Ghostbusters," and I don't know if he was influenced by it. In fact, that really isn't something I thought about until The West Wing went off the air.

There may, in fact, be no connection at all. Probably isn't. But it was the smart, witty style of dialogue that I found appealing — not unlike many of the screwball comedies of the '30s and '40s.

Come to think of it, screwball might be just the right word to describe "Ghostbusters." But that isn't a bad thing. Quite often, the best things — and people — in life are at least a little bit screwball.

It always helps to have a great supporting cast, preferably one that isn't there just to fill the time between costume and scene changes, and "Ghostbusters" had an excellent supporting cast.

Sigourney Weaver played Dana/The Gatekeeper and Rick Moranis (in one of his first movies) was Louis/The Keymaster. Dana wanted nothing to do with Louis, but, when she was possessed by a demon named Zuul, she was drawn to Louis, who was possessed by another demon named Vinz Clortho.

And thus the subtext of the story ...

The fictional Mr. Stay Puft Marshmallow Man (who resembled the Pillsbury Doughboy and the Michelin Tire Man) was a stroke of pure genius. He looked so much like the kind of character that would be dreamed up on Madison Avenue that I'm sure many folks left theaters in the summer of '84 scratching their heads trying to place him and his product from their own childhoods.

It was a clever movie and a lot of fun to watch.