Category Archives: Capsules

IT CAME FROM THE READER-SUGGESTED QUEUE: FUNNY BONES (1995)

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DIRECTED BY: Peter Chelsom

FEATURING: Oliver Platt, Lee Evans, , ,

PLOT: When the son of a legendary comedian bombs in his Vegas debut, he retrenches by returning his boyhood home in the faded resort town of Blackpool in search of material that he can pinch to re-tool his act.

Still from Funny Bones (1995)

COMMENTS: Among the many lessons we’ve learned throughout film’s existence , one that recurs consistently, is that comedians are the saddest bastards around. Mainstream moviemakers have never tired of reminding us that every joke-teller is merely a modern-day Pagliacci pleading with their therapist for release from the misery. Funny Bones finds an even sadder level: the comic who isn’t funny. Can you imagine such a predicament? Here you are with the pedigree, the material, the opportunity, and the moment the spotlight hits you, you die on the vine. Sheesh, even Pagliacci could get his act together come performance time.

This is the fate of painfully unsuccessful Tommy Fawkes (Platt), who doesn’t seem to know what funny actually is but knows for certain that he’s not it. His journey to understanding or acceptance or even surrender could be the foundation for another depressed-comedian narrative, but writer/director Chelsom has more he wants to explore: the ramifications of infidelity, the unforgivable crime of joke theft, the nature of Blackpool as a dying resort for acts of questionable merit, and even a crime thriller about the theft of valuable treasures from a group of French gangsters. When the film introduces a Chinese powder with the power of youthful regeneration, you may earnestly wonder if it’s about to take a hard left turn into science fiction. Funny Bones is impressively patient with the many storylines it wants to explore, but that also means nothing takes priority, so the “B” plots and “C” plots occupy as much screentime as the ostensible central story. It’s an approach that may work well for a television season, but less so for a two-hour feature.

Part of what makes Funny Bones such a peculiar watch is trying to decipher how it actually feels about comedy. On the one hand there’s Tommy, who has absolutely the wrong act for a featured spot in Vegas, but who tries to rectify the situation by auditioning a series of “Britain’s Got Talent” rejects. Jack, who we are expected to believe was utterly devastated by an incident with an overly aggressive scene partner and is allegedly so broken as to be almost unable to communicate, is his polar opposite (Jack’s first appearance is on a dangerous perch atop Blackpool Tower, where the community leaders think he might be a risk to himself.) Nevertheless, we see him excel in multiple forms of performance; he has a quick wit (when asked if he has lived in Blackpool all his life, he responds, “Not yet”), he delivers a wild lip-sync routine, and finishes with circus acrobatics. There’s a hint that Jack’s approach to humor is pure, a notion either affirmed or contradicted by the casting of Jerry Lewis as a physical comedian who hits it big as a joke-teller. In any case, Tommy’s supposed to learn something at the end of all this, and the movie may not have a clear sense of what that lesson ought to be. He has spent the film confidently predicting his own demise, both onstage and in real life. The film suggests he is wrong, but exactly why is not at all clear.

Funny Bones revels in its English-ness, from the idealization of the penny-ante human tricks that make up the Blackpool entertainment scene to the extremely low-key reactions to even the most monumental events. A heist from a mortuary delineates the difference between the English and American responses. (I also have to call out the sheer audacity of casting both British film stalwarts Richard Griffiths and Ian McNiece, actors whom I have spent far too much time mistaking for one another.) It is a curious little drama played out on the field of comedy. I actually respect the variety of interesting people the film introduces, and the Trojan Horse-tactic of sneaking a look at a lost way of life through the door by way of a big, brassy American character study. I just don’t think it works. Most comedians would tell you that the further away you go from your premise, the harder the punchline will hit when you bring it all back. Funny Bones, however, just keeps winding away, going wherever it will, but not really getting anywhere in particular.

WHAT THE CRITICS SAY:

“…it plays like a production that was, at one point, granted complete creative freedom to pursue any bit of whimsy and grotesquerie it wanted to find. The final cut is a collision of tones and ideas, but it remains distinct in its intent to be unpredictable and oddly sincere, hunting for the meaning of family and emotional stability in the mine field of professional comedy…Daddy issues are vivid in ‘Funny Bones,’ but they’re soon eclipsed by the weirdness of Blackpool…” – Brian Orndorf, Blu-ray.com

(This movie was nominated for review by Jonathan Allen. Suggest a weird movie of your own here.)         

Funny Bones

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    CAPSULE: THE MOVIE ORGY (1968)

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    DIRECTED BY: Joe Dante

    FEATURING: Ann-Margret, Ngo Dinh Diem, Dwight D. Eisenhower

    PLOT: A compilation of B-movies, ads, infomercials and TV shows from the American landscape of the 1950s and 60s.

    Still from The Movie Orgy (1968)

    COMMENTS:  Even within the weird, surreal, and WTF cinematic canon, The Movie Orgy is not your typical cinematic experience. It has more in common with experimental non-narrative cinema, although it will alos appeal to fans of the obscure. This mammoth compilation lasts around five hours and, if taken in from start to finish, is truly a demanding watch. It is the debut of the acclaimed Hollywood director Joe Dante, and what an ambitious debut it is. From the first minutes self-referential humor is over-the-top, as introductory segments from a variety of shows welcome the viewers. For the next few hours alien invasions and creature features parade over the screen, along with the most random advertisements, problematic infomercials showcasing the mindset of a different era, and many other oddities.

    The Movie Orgy is a true treasury, a time capsule of Cold-War anxieties—manifested mostly in giant monsters—along with American puritanism. It will appeal to those loving obscure, long-forgotten, and lost media. And be sure, there is an audience for this kind of content. Niche streaming service Eternal Family even has a category for this type of media called “Lost & Found Oddities” with works provided by archives such as A/V Geeks or Found Footage Fest Archive.Tthis aspect of the movie doesn’t make it bizarre, however, just nostalgic, and tailored to a specific interest.

    The weirdness here mostly is found within the included movies themselves. These flicks are, in the majority, disasters, with the most notable of them  being the iconic Attack of the 50 Foot Woman (1958). In fact, Attack is used as a thematic axis of sorts for the disparate structure: segments accompany the viewer throughout the entirety of Orgy, creating a sense of continuity despite the chaotic style of this post-modernist collage.

    The editing is subversive, reminding us we are in the liberal late 1960s after all. A parade of soldiers from a military propaganda video gives way to a beauty sergeant and a pageant of sexy models. An underlying political commentary can be found in many such moments.

    As mentioned above, there is no narrative here. There is, however, a kind of climax towards the last hour, where many action scenes from monster flicks rapidly follow one another. Then, as an epilogue, we see a long list of farewells and conclusions, selected from a variety of shows.

    WHAT THE CRITICS SAY:

    The Movie Orgy isn’t really a movie. It’s more like a hallucinatory party for the certifiably movie mad.”–Dennis Cozzalio, Sergio Leone and the Infield Fly Rule (2004 screening)

    The Movie Orgy [Blu-ray]

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    CAPSULE: BAD LUCK BANGING OR LOONY PORN (2021)

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    Recommended

    DIRECTED BY:

    FEATURING: Katia Pascariu, Claudia Ieremia, Nicodim Ungureanu

    PLOT: Scandal erupts as a young teacher’s homemade sex tape leaks online.

    Still from Bad Luck Banging or Loony Porn (2021)

    COMMENTSWhen a movie starts with hardcore imagery of a pornographic nature, you know you’re in for a wild ride. Bad Luck Banging is an emblematic work that put its creator, Radu Jude, on the map as one of the most controversial, subversive and uncompromising visionaries in the current cinematic landscape. It also dramatically changed our perception of contemporary Romanian cinema: by revealing a completely different direction than the social realism associated with the Romanian New Wave, it laid the groundwork for even more ambitious cinematic achievements like Dracula (2025).

    After the brief albeit graphic introduction, the movie divides into three distinct parts. For the first, we follow our teacher protagonist, Emi, around Bucharest as she buys groceries and runs errands. The  almost documentary-like pacing of this section may not be ideal for casual viewers. The camera takes its time revealing  cacophonies and pathogens of the heroine’s urban environment. It’s a subversive “city symphony,” with Bucharest portrayed as it is, not in a celebratory light. It’s a subtle yet caustic commentary on the ethos of a post-industrial consumerist society.

    Then, the second section begins. It is an interlude of sorts, disrupting the main narrative while taking the form of an abecedary and a collection of anecdotes and fun facts. Its playfulness and essayistic nature remind the viewer of and the experimentation of the in general. At the same time, it expresses a deeply cynical view of humanity, and especially of Romania.

    The third part—slightly longer than the two before it—focuses on an official meeting between our teacher and frustrated parents regarding the online leak of the teacher’s homemade erotic videos, which transforms into a trial of sorts, with every parent acting as an archetype of Romanian society, judging our protagonist’s deeds. Each, from a leftist intellectual to oppressive figures representing the Church and the Army, express long-established opinions, mostly of the conservative kind. Taking place in an enclosed space, the whole segment maintains theatricality, with corresponding lighting. In the end, three possible endings are proposed (let’s just say that the last is the weirdest).

    Music plays a major role, underlining the ironic moments. Paeans accompany atrocities, while battle hymns go along with pornographic imagery. Upbeat tunes signal the transition between parts. And let’s not forget M. A. Numminen’s catchy yet seemingly random Wittgenstein-based song “In Order to Tell” (1970) in the closing credits.

    Bad Luck Banging can be discussed today not only as a satiric view on western society’s pathologies, but also as a relic of the Covid era. Everyone wears masks and social distancing is all around the news.

    WHAT THE CRITICS SAY:

    “It’s a methodology combining the horrific with the absurd, blending academic inquiry with farcical social critique, à la Buñuel.”–John Kupecki, Austin Chronicle (contemporaneous)

    Bad Luck Banging or Loony Porn [Blu-ray]

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    IT CAME FROM THE READER-SUGGESTED QUEUE: U-TURN (1997)

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    Recommended

    DIRECTED BY:

    FEATURING: , , , , ,

    PLOT: Bobby Cooper, a man missing two fingers and toting a suitcase full of money, gets stuck in a ramshackle desert community while fleeing mobsters.

    Still from U-Turn (1997)

    COMMENTS: About half a dozen times over the first third of U Turn, different people ask Bobby (Penn) what happened to his hand and then, upon hearing his repeated refrain of “an accident,” respond with the sage advice: “You should be more careful!” Bobby is indeed living the life of a careless man, as mobsters cut off two of his fingers after growing impatient with his failure to pay his debts. He’s now on the lam with a suitcase full of the mob’s money and a Ford Mustang. When he blows a radiator hose, he lands in the tiny desert town of Superior, Arizona.

    Woe betide Bobby, who enters Superior like a mouse tossed into a rattlesnake terrarium. First, he’s ripped off by the town mechanic Darrell (Billy Bob Thornton as a bafflingly self-assured whacko who’s just bright enough to run a scam, but not a watt brighter). Then he loses his case of money in a store robbery. Next he follows local femme fatale Grace McKenna (Lopez) home and gets seduced right out of the shower, only to get punched by her husband, Jake (Nick Nolte), who makes things up to Bobby with a business proposal: help him kill his wife. (No worries, she’ll immediately flip the script.) But are Jake and Grace really lethal rivals trapped in a toxic marriage, or sadomasochist sickos who trick strangers into their badger games? How about the rest of the town, bristling with testy characters who want to start a fight with Bobby, or at least make him miserable? Sheriff Potter (lantern-jawed Boothe, sporting a five-thirty shadow) seems always on the verge of either saving Bobby from peril or locking him up, but one thing’s for sure: he knows more than he lets on.

    What unfolds from all this is a pile-up of schemes and counter-schemes with Bobby trying (and mostly failing) to dodge incoming shots. All he wants is to get out of Superior in the worst way, yet an almost supernatural streak of bad luck thwarts him. The plot dutifully veers down a new hairpin twist every twenty minutes or so,  with a pacing that suggests on a Palm Springs vacation. The eccentric characters of Superior prompt Bobby to exclaim, “Is everybody in this town on drugs?” A blind old beggar (Voight) who panhandles on main street becomes Bobby’s personal Jiminy Cricket, offering him half-mad advice culled from a very rugged life. Can Bobby maneuver his way through this thorny desert maze of scheming reptiles and escape?

    This is one well-crafted movie with memorable lines and characters, a sure treat for noir fans. Stone occasionally slips into a bit of cartoonish editing, but dwells longingly on the captivating desert scenery. The camera intermittently cuts to shots of vultures, snakes, coyotes, scorpions, and other deadly desert predators, drawing clear comparisons to Superior’s citizens. As a former southwest desert dweller myself, your humble author can verify that U-Turn perfectly gets small-town life there: the run-down businesses, the eccentric oddballs, the harsh environment, and the philosophy that you’d better have a good survival strategy or you have no business being here. The cast does an outstanding job all around. Penn is perfect as Bobby, because he’s a bit of an asshole anyway—so you don’t feel much sympathy for his plight, allowing the film to linger in comedy territory.

    U-Turn had a budget of $19 million (clearly going to its all-star cast) and only made $6.6 million, a complete flop. That’s a shame, because it’s well-done and Stone obviously poured love into it. But this is a very lightweight, almost fluffy work, with the whole film amounting to little more than a shaggy dog story (albeit one with a body count). Some fans might compare it to a southwestern version of After Hours. But that’s the one problem with U-Turn: it feels like filler between bigger and better films. It’s good popcorn viewing while it lasts, but hours later it rolls out of your memory like the cinematic tumbleweed that it is.

    WHAT THE CRITICS SAY:

    “The first two thirds of U-Turn is a rude, seductive head bender. But around the time it turns from day to night, the film begins to lose its tricky aura of borderline surreal mystery. It becomes another rigged, what-will-happen-next suspense game, and you begin to sense just how arbitrary the twists are. “–Owen Gleiberman, Entertainment Weekly (contemporaneous)

    U:Turn

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    IT CAME FROM THE READER-SUGGESTED QUEUE: ROCK-A-DOODLE (1991)

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    DIRECTED BY: Don Bluth

    FEATURING: Voices of Glen Campbell, Phil Harris, Christopher Plummer, Ellen Greene, , , Sorrell Booke, Sandy Duncan, Toby Scott Ganger

    PLOT: Chanticleer, the rooster whose morning crow brings daylight, leaves for the big city to become a singing star after the Duke of Owls banishes sunlight.

    Still from Rock-a-Doodle (1991)

    COMMENTS: Walt Disney Animation, purveyors of fine animated fairy tales since 1937, tried in three separate decades to build a feature out of the medieval tale of the arrogant Chanticleer, whose call was thought to summon the sun. The rooster boasted a fine pedigree, including an appearance in Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales and a starring role in a play by Edmond Rostand of Cyrano de Bergerac fame, so a film showcasing a big singing bird seemed right up the studio’s alley. Alas, despite repeated attempts and the efforts of some of the Disney crew’s greatest storytellers in the studio’s history (including Uncle himself), they never found a way to make the story work, finding the central character too unlikable. Maybe it’s just a point of stubborn pride that Disney apostate Don Bluth, who notoriously ditched the 70s-era Mouse House due to its lethargic approach to animation, concluded he was the man to crack the code.

    Bluth’s solution was to deliver story in bulk. In addition to the source tale, we’ve got the addition of a new villain with a plot to block out the sun permanently, a mapped-on telling of the later years of a certain king of rock ‘n’ roll and his manipulative manager, the adventures of a bunch of country animals new to the city, and most oddly, a live-action framing story in which a young boy is reading the very story we have been watching, only to be dragged into it himself by a torrential rainstorm accompanied by a surprise dose of magic. The resulting movie somehow suffers both from a surfeit of plot and an alarming lack of it. There’s an awful lot going on, and it’s well-animated, but there’s not enough time for anything to get the attention it needs. (Subtract the credits, and the film barely squeezes by at an hour.) The movie is an undercooked omelet with too many ingredients.

    Rock-a-Doodle reeks of post-production panic. The rapid-fire intro strongly suggests a first act hacked to pieces by studio notes and confused comment cards, and the solution seems to be enlisting Harris (a Disney mainstay making his final film appearance) to ladle more and more narration on top of the hastily edited footage in an effort to knit the disparate elements together. Logic takes a beating; it’s hard to reconcile The Duke’s plan to destroy all sunlight with the fact that Chanticleer is shown that the sun continues to rise without him.

    Bizarrely, the movie consistently undercuts its best idea: Chanticleer as Elvis. It’s a cute notion to pair up the cock who heralds the sun with the pelvis stops millions of hearts, and the bird’s coxcomb is an amusing analogy to Elvis’ famed pompadour. Bluth and Co. know this is the twist that sets their version apart, and they almost go all in. Bringing in Glen Campbell to voice the character (his ability to impersonate Presley was so pronounced that songwriters frequently hired him as a stand-in for demo recordings). Enlisting Elvis’ own backing group, the Jordanaires. Lacing the film with choice elements including Vegas glitz, rockabilly tunes, and a Colonel Tom Parker analogue. And then, having gone to such great lengths to rhyme with the legend of The King, the filmmakers proceed to interfere with every single one of Chanticleer’s musical numbers, burying them beneath dialogue, sound effects, or narration. We don’t get to hear a single performance all the way through until the closing credits. Every chance to appreciate the joke is obliterated. It’s a perplexing act of self-sabotage.

    Rock-A-Doodle feels like an idea that might possibly have worked if given the chance. It also feels like an idea that was thrown into the meat grinder because it didn’t work at all. It’s hard to know which is right. All we can know for certain is that Disney said no thrice, while Bluth said yes once, and it’s the little guy who probably rues his decision.

    WHAT THE CRITICS SAY:

    “…in the end I had to surrender every shred of reason and common sense and just go along for the ride. Everything about it, from the grotesque delirium of the animated city sequences to the cornball artifice of the live action scenes with Edmond and his family, is so bizarre and tonally misjudged that it offers up a perverse kind of pleasure. I’m actually amazed that this film doesn’t have a more robust cult following – it has ‘midnight screening’ written all over it. … I wholeheartedly recommend it to anyone with a penchant for the weird and inexplicable.” – Scampy, The Spirochaete Trail

    (This movie was nominated for review by Suren. Suggest a weird movie of your own here.) 

    Rock-A-Doodle

    • ROCK A DOODLE ROCK A DOODLE (1 DVD)
    • PHYSICAL FILM
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