Showing posts with label Laura Dern. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Laura Dern. Show all posts

Monday, August 17, 2015

On the Run With Sailor and Lula



"This whole world's wild at heart and weird on top."

Lula (Laura Dern)

"There is something inside of me that resists the films of David Lynch," film critic Roger Ebert wrote after the debut of "Wild at Heart" 25 years ago today. "I am aware of it, I admit to it, but I cannot think my way around it. I sit and watch his films and am aware of his energy, his visual flair, his flashes of wit. But as the movie rolls along, something grows inside of me — an indignation, an unwillingness, a resistance."

I don't think a lot of people really remember just how hot (not in the physical sense but in the successful sense) David Lynch was when he wrote and directed "Wild at Heart." Among his many projects was his TV brainchild Twin Peaks, which had a meteoric ride that began in April 1990 and continued until June 1991. At the end, the ratings were tanking, but it lit up the sky there in 1990. Many said it had developed a cult following for Lynch.

It was while Lynch was working on the first episodes of Twin Peaks that he was approached about directing a movie based on a novel called "Wild at Heart: The Story of Sailor and Lula," the tale of a couple of lovers on the road together. Lynch was the one who introduced the crime angle; in the movie adaptation, Sailor and Lula weren't on the road so much as they were on the run.

I guess that was one of the movie themes of that time — people on the run from the law (or something). To an extent, I suppose, it is always a movie theme, but it isn't always as popular as it seemed to be in the late '80s and early '90s.

And, even when there is an unusually high number of such road movies in the theaters, few are as surrealistic — and I say that fully aware that "Thelma & Louise" premiered less than two years later — as "Wild at Heart."

Anyway, as I say, Sailor (Nicolas Cage) and Lula (Laura Dern) were on the run — but it started out that they were running from Lula's overbearing mother (played by Dern's own mother, Diane Ladd), who got other folks involved — gangsters, for example, and a detective (played by Willem Dafoe).

Both of the leads were played by young but familiar actors. Cage was cast regularly in movies in the 1980s — "Fast Times at Ridgemont High," "The Cotton Club," "Peggy Sue Got Married," "Raising Arizona," "Moonstruck." By the time he made "Wild at Heart," moviegoers were pretty accustomed to the idea of Cage as a leading man.

Things were different for Dern. "Wild at Heart" was hardly Dern's first appearance on the silver screen — that came nearly 20 years earlier, when, at the tender age of 6, Dern was cast in 1973's "White Lightning" — but many moviegoers probably didn't know that in 1990, and most probably were not aware of her resume. She was cast in "Alice Doesn't Live Here Anymore," which received three Academy Award nominations, in 1974. She had had many supporting roles (earning a reputation within the industry for earnest portrayals of virtuous but rather naive characters); she had worked with Lynch before, on 1986's "Blue Velvet," and some of her roles could be regarded as leading roles, but "Wild at Heart" was probably the first truly successful movie in which she was widely recognized as one of the stars.

A big part of the plot of "Wild at Heart" was sex, as one would expect with an oversexed, hot–blooded type like Lula — and Cage's character was always willing to oblige her, as just about any man in that age group probably would. It's been quite awhile since I've seen the movie, but it seems to me that Dern and Cage marked just about every event with a roll in the sack ...

Even though that is — to an extent — the kind of behavior that is expected of people Sailor's and Lula's age, it was part of what made the movie so surreal. "You've got me hotter than Georgia asphalt," Dern said to Cage at one point. She must have spent her life in a constant state of arousal.

Part of it was Lynch himself, though. The structure of the road film freed Lynch to indulge himself in all sorts of ways, which led to mixed results. That part was probably predictable. But he also took viewers to some intriguing places — like the aftermath of a two–car collision in which a young woman, suffering from an obviously severe head injury, emerged from the wreckage, staggered around for a little while, asking what had happened and trying to find her wallet, and then died in front of the amorous couple. Sailor and Lula regarded it as a bad omen.

Which it was, I suppose, particularly for the girl who died.

Ebert dismissed "Wild at Heart" as "a film without the courage to declare its own darkest fantasies." There may be truth in that. I only saw it once, many years ago. Maybe I need to see it again.

"I've seen the movie twice now," Ebert told his readers. "I liked it less the second time."

My advice to you is to judge for yourself.

Tuesday, June 11, 2013

Looking Ahead by Looking Back



Your scientists were so preoccupied with whether or not they could, they didn't stop to think if they should.

Jeff Goldblum (Ian Malcolm)
Jurassic Park

I'm not entirely sure, but I think "Jurassic Park" was the last movie I went to see at the theater with my mother.

She died about two years after it came out so it is possible that we saw another one, but I really don't think so. She and I didn't really have an opportunity to see any other movies together after that. At least, I don't think we did.

It is a significant point for me because we used to go see movies together all the time — Mom always used to love to talk about a movie after she had seen it, and I like to do that, too, but, since she's been gone, it's been hard to find someone to watch movies with me.

Anyway, I was visiting my parents a few weeks after "Jurassic Park" hit the theaters. Mom and Dad had already seen it — and Dad is not the sort of person who likes to see most movies more than once — but Mom suggested that the two of us go to see it, and so we did on a hot Sunday afternoon in late June of 1993.

As I say, Mom lived nearly two more years after that, but we lived in different states at the time. I can think of a few times when I visited my parents in those two years, and it is possible that we saw a movie together on one of those occasions, but I honestly can't recall one.

Even if I am wrong, though, I like to think that "Jurassic Park" was the last movie Mom and I saw together if only because it was directed by Steven Spielberg.

I can think of several directors whose work I have enjoyed over the years, but I don't think any other director — at least, in my lifetime — has been as gifted as Spielberg at squeezing every conceivable emotion out of every frame of film in a movie.

Every movie he has made has been special, even the ones that were judged as mediocre (at least, when compared to Spielberg's most noteworthy achievements).

And "Jurassic Park" was hardly mediocre.

Of course, as there is with any movie, there were continuity problems. The one that always bothered me was the rainstorm that was severe enough to leave puddles that were deep enough to prevent the children from being crushed when a Tyrannosaurus rex flipped the tour car in which they were riding and stepped on it — yet, shortly thereafter, when Ellie (Laura Dern) came looking for Alan (Sam Neill) and the children, the ground was dry. Nary a puddle in sight.

Well, perhaps that is quibbling.

After all, there is very little wasted effort in a Spielberg movie.

Everything that is said, everything that is done on the screen, every prop, every item of clothing ... everything has a purpose. Spielberg is always messing with your head, giving you something that foretells something or harkens back to something, and often you don't realize it until you've seen the whole movie — at least once — and had a chance to reflect on it a bit.

And, in hindsight, one of the most interesting examples of that from "Jurassic Park" came when Richard Attenborough's grandchildren and Neill were stranded in the park at night.

One of the children (Ariana Richards) asked Neill, "What will you and Ellie do if you don't have to dig up dinosaurs anymore?"

"I guess we'll have to evolve, too," he replied.

In the context of the movie, it was a reasonable question. Attenborough's character — well, the technology he had pioneered — had rendered the traditional work of researchers obsolete by reviving long–extinct dinosaurs. In the story, people wouldn't have to look at dinosaur bones and try to imagine what they looked like. They could look at the real thing.

But it had more long–term relevance for me than I realized at the time.

In 1993, Spielberg showed movie audiences that computers would revolutionize special effects, and I believed it. What I didn't realize was how rapidly emerging technology was going to change so much of the world in which I lived.

In my field, journalism, the changes have come so quickly that they have caught many by surprise, and newspapers have scrambled to find ways merely to survive. Survival has meant changing the roles in the newsroom, and many jobs have been eliminated in the process.

People like myself and the folks with whom I have worked are becoming today's dinosaurs. I don't feel obsolete, and I'm sure my colleagues don't feel obsolete, either. Perhaps we aren't — but some of our skills are.

It wasn't that piecemeal in "Jurassic Park." Dinosaurs had been extinct for millions of years; apparently, it hadn't been a gradual thing, either. In fact, I am often amazed that so many dinosaur skeletons have been preserved virtually intact all this time.

But to revive the dinosaurs in "Jurassic Park," it was necessary to blend the DNA information that had been retrieved from fossils with DNA from frogs. The frog DNA filled in the genetic gaps. So, in a way, I guess it was piecemeal.

One of the things I remember being astonished by at the time — aside from the impressive special effects — was how little Neill was mentioned in the reviews I read. Most of the attention was given to Jeff Goldblum and Laura Dern and Attenborough.

Neill, as I recall, was treated almost as an afterthought when, in fact, he had about as much screen time as anyone else — as he and the children tried to make their way through a park in which all barriers between man and dinosaur had broken down.

Mind you, I'm not saying that I think Neill is a great actor. Frankly, I've always thought that he capitalized on his looks and probably couldn't provide a truly convincing performance if given a really challenging role.

But, in the 1990s, he was on something of a roll. "Jurassic Park" and "The Piano," two of arguably his best movies, were in the theaters at this time 20 years ago. He'd been in "The Hunt for Red October" a few years earlier, and he was in "Dead Calm" in 1989.

He was getting a lot of exposure. But he has never been what I would call a major star.

Ironic, isn't it? A blockbuster movie about the perils of reviving the past didn't foretell his future success — at least, not yet.