"Love don't make things nice — it ruins everything. It breaks your heart. It makes things a mess. We aren't here to make things perfect. The snowflakes are perfect. The stars are perfect. Not us. Not us! We are here to ruin ourselves and to break our hearts and love the wrong people and die."
Ronny (Nicolas Cage)
Love triangles are, by their nature, complicated.
They become more complicated when all the parties are friends — and even more complicated when some are related. Most of the time, I suppose some of the parties are related by marriage, but sometimes they are related by blood.
Norman Jewison's "Moonstruck," which premiered in New York on this day in 1987, had both — well, kinda. There were several romances going on, and sometimes they overlapped. And all that got complicated, too.
The primary love story in "Moonstruck" involved a widow named Loretta (Cher), her boneheaded fiancé Johnny (Danny Aiello) and Johnny's brother (Nicolas Cage).
I liked a description that film critic Roger Ebert wrote several years ago. The story, Ebert wrote, "exists in a Brooklyn that has never existed, a Brooklyn where the full moon makes the night like day and drives people crazy with amore, when the moon–a hits their eyes like a big–a pizza pie. The soundtrack is equal parts 'La Boheme' and Dean Martin, and Ronny Cammareri's feelings are like those of an operatic hero, larger than life and more dramatic, as when he tells Loretta why he hates his brother Johnny."
So there's that.
Johnny proposed to Loretta before departing for Sicily to be with his dying mother. Loretta accepted the proposal but said she wanted to be sure they followed tradition. It was her failure to do so the first time, she believed, that put the curse on her first marriage, leading to her first husband's death. Following tradition was OK with Johnny, and he told Loretta to be sure Ronny was invited to the wedding.
Loretta did not love Johnny; convinced that she was unlucky in love, Loretta was content to marry him even though she did not love him, but everything changed when she met Ronny.
Life can be funny that way, you know?
Further complicating things were a couple of extramarital affairs in Loretta's own family.
Her father (Vincent Gardenia) was having an affair and so was her mother (Olympia Dukakis).
Cher and Dukakis took home Oscars for their performances. Jewison was nominated for Best Director, and Gardenia was nominated for Best Supporting Actor. And the movie was nominated for Best Picture.
"We prepared for everything. Not for this. Not for something this size. There's no plan."
John (Nicolas Cage)
No one who lived through Sept. 11, 2001, will ever forget it. Most of us didn't experience the life–or–death struggle that some did, but that doesn't mean that most of us weren't affected by what happened that day.
That, I suppose, was what I liked about Oliver Stone's "World Trade Center," which premiered on this day in 2006. In the first few years after those infamous attacks, there was a real effort to make sure people didn't forget what had happened. Only a few years after those terrorist attacks, we were already seeing movies about them. There was a made–for–TV movie that essentially dramatized all the now–familiar recordings from that day.
Then there was "United 93," which premiered nearly 3½ months before "World Trade Center," and it basically told the tale of the passengers whose revolt led to the crashing of their plane in a Pennsylvania field instead of the White House or Capitol building.
I can't help wondering if those movies took the edge off that experience. Did the movies contribute to a perception that the attacks of 9/11 didn't really happen, that they were dramatizations for our collective entertainment?
How incredible it is to think that many of the most painful lessons we thought we learned on Sept. 11, 2001 have been all but forgotten by our country's leadership less than 15 years later.
"World Trade Center" told the mostly unknown story of how the families of the victims reacted to what was happening.
For those on the ground, that may have been the most traumatic image that played in their minds that day — how the families of the victims had to watch helplessly while the drama played out. In the office where I was working on that day, I heard many people speaking of the horror they imagined the passengers on the plane experiencing. In the absence of the actual horrific images of that morning — there was no TV in the office at that time — nothing else so moved them to emotional displays as that mental image.
At the time I found it easier to function if I did not think about things like that. But you couldn't ignore it forever, and movies have always been powerful providers of provocative images. Combine that with Stone's directorial skills, and you have an impressive force.
It was also an heroic tale.
The movie, critic Roger Ebert wrote, "is about two men who, against all odds, survived the collapse of the Twin Towers."
Clearly, that is a compelling story line, and ostensibly it was a true story; many parts of it undoubtedly were true, but some parts apparently were exaggerated.
And some parts were not given adequate treatment — in the eyes of some. There were some widows of victims of the attacks who were critical of the involvement of family members of other victims, producing what they thought was a slanted treatment of the subject.
The treatment was a little heavy handed at times, too.
For example, at one point, a closeup of an open Bible could be seen. It was open to a passage in Revelation and was followed by a shot of a cross, which was "piling it on a bit thick," Ebert observed.
Ebert also pointed out that Stone "Christianize[d]" the story "in ways that go beyond the beliefs of his characters."
"The problem with movies about individuals in such extreme situations," Ebert wrote, "(perhaps especially those that try to hew closely to the accounts of the survivors who lived the events depicted) is that they are stripped of some of their individuality. They are, by necessity, reduced to human essentials, and that doesn't always make for good movie drama. Yes, anyone in this situation would think, and probably say, something like, 'Tell my wife and children that I love them.' But since we don't know much about who these guys were before 9/11 (presented here as a hazy day rather than the crystal clear fall morning we remember — where's CGI when you need it?), some moments in 'WTC' feel more generic than personal or universal."
I think a big problem with dramatizing events that most if not all of your viewers are likely to remember is that people remember things through the prisms of their own experiences. What they saw meshes with what they were thinking and what they were doing.
And the families are bound to have the most vivid memories of all. Pleasing them must be a nearly impossible objective to achieve.
So I don't fault Stone for failing to live up to their expectations. They want others to feel what they felt, and that is not possible. Only approximations are possible. But isn't that, ultimately, a filmmaker's mission — to make the audiences experience what the characters in the movie experienced?
I'm glad that filmmakers took on the topic of 9/11 quickly. But as I suggested earlier, perhaps they acted too quickly.
Of course, even when Stone has taken on events that were decades removed — "JFK" comes to mind — he has encountered resistance. Even so, there is something to be said for not dramatizing something until a couple of generations have passed.
But I guess that depends on the director, the subject matter and how it is handled. While there were many complaints about Stone's "Nixon," I heard from many people who shared my assessment of Anthony Hopkins' performance in the title role — and we were all old enough to remember Nixon. Hopkins didn't look like Nixon, and he didn't sound like Nixon, but he captured Nixon's persona perfectly.
The characters in "World Trade Center" were not familiar to audiences, only to those who knew the originals, so perhaps the two movies aren't really comparable.
Then again, perhaps Ebert was on to something when he observed that, since the audience was not familiar with the characters, some of the movie's moments felt "more generic than personal or universal."
Is that the fault of the cast or the director? The cast can only work with what it is given in terms of a script and directorial guidance.
"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."
Tess (Shirley MacLaine): [in the grocery store] It's got no price at all.
Bob:Yes, ma'am. [over the radio] Uh, Doug, this is Bobby in canned goods, are you anywhere near the manager? I need a price check on Le Sueur baby peas, repeat, Le Sueur baby peas.
Doug (Nicolas Cage):Le Sueur baby peas.
Store Manager:They're on special today, two for .59.
Doug:They're on special today, two for .59.
Bob:Uh, copy that, it's two for .59.
Tess:But I only want one.
Bob:Uh, roger that, Doug, but she only wants one.
Doug:How much for just one?
Store Manager:The same. It's a two–for–one thing.
Doug:Uh, Bobby, it's a two–for–one thing so I suggest you go ahead and get both.
Bob:Uh, copy that, Doug, but I believe we've lost in interest in peas, repeat, lost interest in peas. Canned goods out.
Tess Carlisle (Shirley MacLaine) was a demanding and stubborn woman, a former first lady who was "beloved" ... "as all first ladies of course are," wrote Roger Ebert, "with the possible exception of Nancy Reagan."
And it was the job of Secret Service agent Doug Chesnic (Nicolas Cage) to provide her with the protection to which she was entitled.
That job wasn't as easy as it might sound. Doug was intent on doing his job the way it was supposed to be done. Tess was intent on not allowing him to do his job the way it should be done.
I think Ebert made an astute observation when he said that Tess was "not elderly, or weak, or unintelligent, but she is lonely: During the film we see no friends, and her only relationships seem to be with her Service Service guards, her cooks, her secretary, her chauffeur and other employees."
Perhaps that explains a lot about her interaction with her protection detail. It was adversarial at times, but I always got the sense that Tess' relationship with her agents was special to her. In her own way, I think Tess was trying to prepare them for a world that she thought was more demanding than she was.
I found it intriguing that Ebert wrote of MacLaine, "I have never seen her in a role that I sense is closer to herself." He explained that he meant it in a complimentary sense, but he also spoke of Tess as a lonely, somewhat isolated and detached person, a micromanager.
I don't know if that really is an accurate description of MacLaine or not, but it is a good description of Tess.
Ebert made another interesting observation when he wrote that the relationship between Tess and Doug, the agent in charge, was not unlike the relationship in "Driving Miss Daisy."
"It isn't love, God forbid," he wrote, "but a certain respect for a tough opponent, and even some grudging affection."
Ebert admitted, though, that the movie took "an unanticipated turn," which he refused to reveal to the readers.
He wrote only that it was "handled well enough that it doesn't break the earlier mood of the movie but only underlines it." That's a good description.
I won't reveal that "unanticipated turn," either, except to say that it led to a satisfying final scene in which Doug and Tess indicated they had reached a mutual understanding, implying that things would be much smoother between them in the future.
It would have to be smoother than the relationship Tess had with her son (played by Edward Albert), who approached her for her endorsement of his commercial venture and was turned down. But the audience was aware that, privately, Tess had watched old footage of her husband's funeral, focusing on Doug in the crowd, and perhaps the viewers sensed that she had a certain fondness for him and his loyalty to her husband.
Personally, I enjoyed Cage's performance. I guess my favorite Cage performance will always be the one he gave in "Raising Arizona," but the one he gave in "Guarding Tess" ranks second with me.
Ebert concluded that MacLaine and Cage were quite good in their respective roles. "We feel for this man who has no life of his own — except to guard a woman who has no life of her own," he wrote.
There may be nothing that grows quite so tiresome quite as quickly when one gets older as a teen sex movie.
I guess it's always been part of the moviemaking landscape. I mean, "Blackboard Jungle," which premiered in 1955, wasn't a comedy, the way "Fast Times" was, but it was definitely a part of that teen angst genre. And James Dean's three–movie career was all about the teen experience.
"Blackboard Jungle" and Dean's career come to me just off the top of my head. I'm sure I could think of others if I sat down and reflected on only that for awhile.
And I'm equally certain that even moviemakers of the silent period made movies that focused on the young and their journey from childhood to adulthood. It's an enduring human theme.
But when one is older, such tales become less relevant — unless they can be applied to the experiences of one's children and/or grandchildren.
Thirty years ago, when "Fast Times at Ridgemont High" premiered, I was in that age range, and I thoroughly enjoyed the movie. I wasn't an adolescent — I would probably have been described as being more on the opposite end of adolescence by that time — but I wasn't that far removed from it.
Today, I guess, "Fast Times at Ridgemont High" is kind of like a time capsule, a glimpse into life as it was in the early 1980s. I don't know what most young people do for after–school jobs these days — I mean, it's tough enough for their elders to find work in this environment — but the same things that appealed to teens then seem to appeal to teens today, just in updated forms.
In 1982, teenagers congregated at shopping malls, where they could buy clothes, eat, go to the movies, play pinball games (or video games like Pac Man). In 2012, I guess it's much the same.
"Fast Times at Ridgemont High" was set — mostly — in two places: The mall where the principal characters either worked or congregated, and the school most of them attended.
Of all the bad boys in all such films, Sean Penn's stoned surfer Jeff Spicoli was probably the baddest. He was the embodiment of teen rebellion at that time. The trouble was that he didn't really have any idea what he was rebelling against.
And he never really seemed to get the upper hand with his nemesis, history teacher Mr. Hand (memorably played by Ray Walston).
Penn wasn't exactly a newcomer, but he hadn't been featured enough to be pigeonholed in particular roles. He has accepted a variety of roles in the last 30 years, and he has earned the praise of the critics for his talent.
It probably didn't require much skill to play Jeff Spicoli, but it must be said that Penn got the most from what he was given. He played a very different (and, in my opinion, more demanding) bad–boy role in "Taps" the year before, but it really was "Fast Times" that launched his career.
At the heart of the story, I suppose, was Jennifer Jason Leigh, who wasn't exactly a newcomer, either, having already been in movies and TV programs for a few years.
(I suppose there is a certain amount of irony in the fact that the movie that really launched Leigh's career made its debut three weeks after Leigh's father, Vic Morrow, was killed while filming a movie of his own.)
Penn and Leigh even appeared together in a TV movie (along with future "Fast Times" co–star Anthony Edwards) the year before "Fast Times at Ridgemont High" came out. And they both kind of shot to stardom when "Fast Times" made roughly six times what it cost to make.
I guess what really made "Fast Times at Ridgemont High" different from previous coming–of–age flicks was the fact that it examined both genders plotting to make a connection with the opposite sex. Leigh, for example, was seen conversing with the more worldly Phoebe Cates frequently about such things as the way to perform fellatio.
Cates also assured Leigh (who lost her virginity early in the movie) that intercourse would not be as painful in the future.
Speaking of that, an interesting angle of the story unfolded in scenes in which Leigh had sex. The camera focused on the kinds of things she would have seen from her vantage point — the ceiling tiles or light fixtures or the graffiti in the room.
I'm not sure if any movie before "Fast Times" ever did that. Previously, the emphasis was on what the male could see from his vantage point — usually the girl's breasts.
(If you could go back and talk to audiences in 1982, most probably would have predicted that Cates would be the biggest star to emerge from "Fast Times." And, to an extent, that was correct — for awhile. Cates certainly got a lot of exposure — in more ways than one — from "Fast Times." She made many more movies in the '80s, but her productivity dropped off dramatically after that.)
The approach to sex for young males was described pretty well by Robert Romanus when he told his inexperienced buddy (played by Brian Backer) of "the attitude" a man must bring to such encounters.
"The attitude dictates that you don't care whether she comes, lays, stays or prays," he said. "I mean, whatever happens, your toes are still tappin'."
Backer and Romanus appeared in other movies after "Fast Times," but their careers never really took off the way the others' did.
Other young actors made cameo appearances — Forest Whitaker, Eric Stoltz, Nicolas Cage — and went on to enjoy greater success.
It was a successful vehicle for several aspiring stars, even if the portrayals were cartoonish at times. But in between the sometimes comic caricatures were some missed opportunities to explore social issues in some depth. Leigh's character, for example, confronted Romanus after learning she was pregnant, and she seemed to object to the idea of aborting the fetus — but she voiced her objection only to her partner's accusation that "you wanted it as much as I did."
For the younger folks in today's audience, "Fast Times at Ridgemont High" offers a peek into musical tastes of the early '80s. I can't say that I remember the Go–Gos being more than one–hit wonders (largely, that hit was "We Got the Beat," which opened the movie), but Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers were one of the groups that defined that time, and performers like Led Zeppelin, Joe Walsh, Jackson Browne, Don Henley and Stevie Nicks made names for themselves in the 1970s and continued to wield their influence in the 1980s.
Young viewers won't really get a feel for life in the '80s from watching this movie, but there is a particularly telling moment near the end that folks who remember that time may find amusing.
Working together in a pizza place in the Ridgemont Mall, Leigh told Cates she didn't want to have sex. "Anyone can have sex," she said.
When Cates asked her what she wanted, Leigh replied that she wanted romance.
"This is Ridgemont," Cates answered. "We can't even get cable TV here."
I got my bachelor's degree in journalism from the University of Arkansas, and I got my master's degree in journalism from the University of North Texas. Most of my adult life has been dedicated to writing and editing in one form or another. Most recently I have taught writing (news and developmental) as an adjunct journalism professor at Richland College, where I advise the student newspaper staff. Go, Thunderducks!
