Showing posts with label Michael Caine. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Michael Caine. Show all posts

Sunday, March 19, 2017

Don't Overlook This Gem



"I wonder if it would not be, well, just a trifle starry–eyed of me to contemplate a partnership where I could count on no sense of moral obligation whatsoever."

Sidney (Michael Caine)

There were a lot of movies in the theaters in 1982. Some were good, some were not, but nearly all of them, it seems, spent more time in the spotlight than "Deathtrap," which premiered on this day 35 years ago.

And that really is a shame because "Deathtrap" may have been the most creative movie out there — and I say that knowing that 1982 brought us "Poltergeist," "E.T.," and "Tootsie," among others.

It was an overlooked gem at the time, and it is still overlooked today.

"Deathtrap" also took a backseat to "Porky's," a putrid sex comedy that was nevertheless the fifth–highest grossing movie of the year. "Porky's" premiered the same day as "Deathtrap."

I must confess that I didn't see "Deathtrap" when it was in theaters, and that is something I have often regretted. I saw it much later on cable.

As I have mentioned here before, I am a fan of the work of Alfred Hitchcock. I got that from my parents, who were fans of Agatha Christie's books as well. If you have been reading this blog for awhile, you almost certainly have noticed that I have written about both Hitchcock's movies and Christie's books here — and I expect to do so again.

My parents loved mysteries, and they appreciated stories that had all kinds of twists and turns, requiring the viewer or the reader to mentally shift gears from time to time. "Deathtrap" had plenty of twists and turns, certainly enough to satisfy fans of Hitchcock and Christie, with a gut–punch ending that, I must confess, I kind of anticipated — but only because of a movie I once watched with my parents (I'll get back to that).

Nearly the entire movie took place in the remote country estate belonging to Michael Caine's character, a once–successful playwright who was enduring a streak of flops, and his wife, played by Dyan Cannon, who suffered from a heart condition. They were doing well financially — a wall in the house that was decorated with weapons from Caine's numerous successful plays testified to that — but Caine's ego longed for another hit.

Caine had received a manuscript by a student (Christopher Reeve) from one of his writing workshops. The student wanted Caine's input. In private, Caine believed the manuscript was flawless, and he decided that he wanted to produce it as his own. He invited the student to come to his home, where they would discuss the play — and Caine would murder the student.

Cannon argued against the plan, but Caine rebuffed every argument — and after the student arrived, Caine did attack him, convincing Cannon to help him remove the body.

She also said nothing when they received an unexpected visitor, a psychic who was staying with some neighbors. The psychic walked around the house, observing that she sensed pain and death in the very places where those things had been happening to Reeve's character and warning Caine that he would be attacked by a man wearing boots.

After the psychic left, Caine and Cannon prepared for bed, and Cannon appeared to be coming to grips with what Caine had done — when Reeve stormed in with a log in his hand and appeared to bludgeon Caine to death. Then he turned his attention to Cannon and chased her around the house — until her weak heart gave out and she collapsed.

Caine appeared in the scene, unharmed although he had a few words of criticism for Reeve's performance with the stage prop log. The murders of Caine and Reeve had been staged to produce this very result as the audience learned when Reeve and Caine shared a kiss.

(I have read that, when "Deathtrap" was showing in theaters and Caine and Reeve were about to kiss, a woman stood up in one theater and exclaimed, "No, Superman, don't do it!" I don't know if that is true or not, but it is a great story, isn't it?)

Reeve moved in with Caine after Cannon's funeral, and they began working on manuscripts at an antique partners' desk. Caine continued to suffer from writer's block, but Reeve pounded out page after page — and mysteriously left his manuscript locked in a drawer whenever he was away.

Caine finally managed to get his hands on Reeve's manuscript and was shocked to learn that Reeve was using the circumstances of Cannon's death for a play titled "Deathtrap" (which, ostensibly, had been the title of the manuscript Reeve originally sent to Caine). Caine confronted Reeve, who insisted the story had great potential and he would continue writing it. He offered to share credit with Caine, who was coming to believe that Reeve was a sociopath, and he agreed to cooperate while secretly planning a resolution to the problem.

The psychic paid another visit a few days later asking for candles in preparation for an anticipated thunderstorm. When she met Reeve, she told Caine that Reeve was the man in boots she had warned him about.

The last part of the movie is best experienced, but suffice to say that just as you think one of the characters is about to go to his reward, the ground shifts beneath your feet, and suddenly the other character has the upper hand.

Their struggle left both men dead — and the psychic was the beneficiary, apparently becoming the successful writer of "Deathtrap," the latest hit on Broadway.

As I say, I anticipated the finish. It reminded me of "The Ladykillers," a movie that was in theaters about 25 years earlier. I watched it with Mom and Dad — ironically, only about a year or two before "Deathtrap" was in theaters.

In "The Ladykillers" a gang of thieves used an old woman as the centerpiece of a robbery plan. In the end, they all killed each other, and the little old lady, who discovered the plan after the robbery had already been carried out, was the only one who benefited from it.

If you see this movie on your TV schedule — or the DVD in the discount bin — don't let the opportunity get away from you.

Wednesday, June 24, 2015

In the Twinkling of an Eye -- or the Twitching of a Nose



Jack (Will Ferrell): So were your parents in the witch business?

Isabel (Nicole Kidman): Both of them. My mother fixed the 1986 World Series.

I had pretty high hopes when I heard that a movie based on the Bewitched TV series was being made. I was a fan of that show when I was a child, and I have admired Nicole Kidman (who was tapped to play Elizabeth Montgomery's role) for many years.

Now, I'm not really a fan of movies based on TV shows. Occasionally, they turn out OK, but mostly I have found them to be huge disappointments. It's fair to say that my enthusiasm for the Bewitched movie was tempered.

But I like Nicole Kidman in much the same way that I liked the original Samantha. I thought she was a good fit for the role.

You know what? I still do. I had other issues with the movie. So did film critic Roger Ebert, who conceded that he didn't watch much prime–time TV and had never seen an episode of Bewitched. "When you see 500 movies a year," he wrote, "you don't have a lot of left–over yearning for watching television. In the evenings, you involve yourself in more human pursuits."

Ebert found the movie "tolerably entertaining," and so did I. Since much of it incorporated scenes from episodes of the original series — sometimes word for word, as I recall — I gather he would have found the series entertaining as well. But he had the same problem with the movie that I had — it threw together too many scenes from episodes of the series that had no unifying theme or context — other than whatever flimsy pretense was used to loosely link things together.

"Many of its parts work," he observed, "although not together. Will Ferrell and Nicole Kidman are funny and likable, but they're in a plot that doesn't allow them to aim for the same ending with the same reason. It's one of those movies where you smile and laugh and are reasonably entertained, but you get no sense of a mighty enterprise sweeping you along with its comedic force. There is not a movie here. Just scenes in search of one."

That seems like fair criticism to me.

As I say, I like Kidman, and I think she was a good choice for Samantha. But there was some real chemistry between Elizabeth Montgomery and the first Darrin (Dick York) that transcended the transition to the second Darrin (Dick Sargent), who clearly was never as comfortable with Samantha as his predecessor, midway through the series' run.

That was material for one of those inside baseball kind of jokes in the movie. Ferrell observed that, on the TV show, Darrin had been so insignificant that the producers changed actors playing the role midway through the series' run — "and no one noticed!" But the series wouldn't have survived for four more years if not for the reservoir of good will the show's fans had for Montgomery. If she was even remotely convincing in her relationship with the second Darrin, the viewers would accept him without question. She was, and they did.

And the movie needed to be mindful of that. The movie wouldn't work if there wasn't the same kind of chemistry between Samantha and Darrin as there had been on the TV show — and there wasn't. Kidman and Ferrell could read the same lines that Montgomery and York did 40 years earlier, even re–create entire scenes, but they wouldn't work without the chemistry.

Kidman needed a different Darrin. I like Ferrell, too, but he needed a different Samantha. As Ebert observed, they were never really on the same page.

And I wasn't particularly wild about the supporting cast, either. For me, Michael Caine never really worked as Samantha's father (played by Maurice Evans in the TV show). And I had some trouble accepting Steve Carell as Uncle Arthur. I suppose that really was a tough one to cast, though. I mean, who could improve on Paul Lynde?

But my real problem was with Shirley MacLaine as Endora, the role played by Agnes Moorehead on TV. Now, I admire much of the work MacLaine has done over the years, but, frankly, I have found her recent work to be a little too flamboyant, and she really let her freak flag fly in "Bewitched." Not that Moorehead wasn't a little over the top at times; the role certainly called for some of that. But MacLaine was a little too over the top for me.

So, what we were left with was, as Ebert observed, an entertaining big–screen homage to a beloved TV series — but nothing that seemed likely to spawn a "Bewitched 2." I doubt that very many people in the audience left the theaters in 2005 hoping that a sequel would be coming along in 2006 that would let them know how things were working out between the new Samantha and Darrin.

Sadly, it is what I had been conditioned to expect — from previous attempts to make successful TV series into movies. Perhaps a little better than most, and, to be fair, "Bewitched" the movie did have some elements of creativity that the others did not. So it showed flashes of what might have been. I hoped for better.

I didn't get it.

Saturday, December 14, 2013

Cinematic Sleight of Hand



"I think it's time she met ... ze prince."

Michael Caine ("Dirty Rotten Scoundrels")

Most of humanity, I suppose, falls into one of two categories — those who are naive and trusting and those who take advantage of the ones who are naive and trusting.

I believe there are degrees of both of these conditions. No one is either all bad or all good. Well, maybe a few are, but not many.

Most of the folks who are naive and trusting do manage to balance those tendencies with a healthy share of skepticism, but there are some who, like Charlie Brown, will always try to kick the football, knowing full well that Lucy will pull it away at the last minute.

And, while most of the people who take advantage of others don't do so routinely and often feel guilty when they do, there are the Lucys of the world who seize upon such opportunities virtually as a reflex action — and with no more remorse than one typically shows when swatting flies.

"Dirty Rotten Scoundrels," which premiered 25 years ago today, was about the extremes.

There was the ongoing struggle for local supremacy between two con artists, the urbane con man Michael Caine and the arrogant and a bit rough–around–the–edges hustler played by Steve Martin. In the seemingly gullible category was Glenne Headly, ostensibly a prize winner on a once–in–a–lifetime international vacation — set against the backdrop of the French Riviera, which did lend it a kind of "To Catch a Thief" aura.

But Cary Grant and Grace Kelly were never as funny.

For awhile, Caine was cast as a teacher, guiding Martin in the subtle ways of sophisticated con artistry. But he struck out on his own when he realized that Caine and the rest of his merry band were benefiting while he was doing all the work and receiving none of the profits from it.

That was a conclusion that wasn't hard to reach. His performances as, primarily, Ruprecht (the mentally challenged "Monkey Boy," as Martin sneeringly called the character) were intended to frighten off the wealthy marks that Caine targeted once their money had been taken; after that mission was accomplished, the money was divided between Caine and his associates. Martin received nothing — but knowledge.

There was a third unseen con artist known only as "the Jackal." The Jackal was said to have been preying on wealthy folks in the area. He was regarded, to put it mildly, as unwelcome competition.

Initially, Caine mistook Martin for the Jackal. That was why Caine tried to scare Martin away from his corner of the Riviera, and he was briefly successful.

But it eventually occurred to Caine that there simply wasn't enough room in his corner of the Riviera for both of them so the two of them devised a bet. The first to con Headly (believed to be a wealthy heiress) out of $50,000 could stay. The other had to leave permanently.

And the race was on.

Near the end of the movie, the con artists discovered that Headly was really the Jackal — after she had conned the two of them — and, most likely, the rest of the audience. It was probably the best sleight of hand I've seen at the movies since "The Sting."

It was neatly done.