Part 83: 1984
MOVIES:
Tender Mercies (hidden gem)
The Right Stuff
Terms of Endearment (winner)
The Big Chill
The Dresser
Tender Mercies
Director: Bruce Beresford
Starring: Robert Duvall, Tess Harper, Betty Buckley, Wilford Brimley, Ellen Barkin, Allan Hubbard, Lenny Von Dohlen, Paul Gleason, Michael Crabtree, Norman Bennett, Shirley MacLaine
Oscar Wins: Best Actor (Robert Duvall), Best Writing (Original Screenplay)
Other Nominations: Best Director, Best Music (Song) ("Over You"), Best Picture
Tender Mercies will break your heart in the most beautiful way. It’s a film that’s incredibly sensitive and thoughtful, a look at lives in a minor key. It’s the story of an alcoholic country singer who has lost everything that had any value to him. His career, his money, his wife, his daughter. He can’t get them back, but he can try something new. Much like the desolate setting in which it takes place, Tender Mercies is quiet and simple – begging how we can keep living when so much tragedy falls into our laps…and how we find the strength to keep going.
Mac Sledge (Robert Duvall) is a middle-aged country-western singer whose career has seen better days. Like many other falling stars, Mac takes solace at the bottom of a bottle, drinking too much too often. It’s a habit that’s cost him more than his fame.
One morning he wakes up on the floor of an old motel six miles outside of Waxahachie, Texas. He was knocked out in a fight over a bottle of whiskey by a man who disappeared into the night.
Without a dime to his name, Mac asks the motel owner, Rosa Lee (Tess Harper [aka Jessie Pinkman’s mom in Breaking Bad]) if he can work off his bill. A recent widow and single mother to Sonny (Allen Hubbard), Rosa Lee could use the help. She agrees on one condition: he can’t drink while he’s working.
Mac and Rosa Lee slowly develop feelings for each other, mostly during quiet evenings sitting together sharing their life stories. He resolves to give up alcohol and give himself a new chance at life. One day they’re weeding the vegetable garden. He stands up and says, “I guess there ain’t no secret how I feel about you. Would you consider marryin’ me?”
Rosa Lee looks up from her gardening. “Yes, I think I might,” she says.
And just like that, they’re married. Mac pretty much fits flawlessly into Rosa Lee and Sonny’s life..and things start to look up for this washed up has-been. But Mac has other skeletons in his closet…namely an evil ex-wife (Betty Buckley) who doesn’t allow him to see their daughter, an 18-year-old named Sue Ann (Ellen Barkin). Though Mac is in a better place now than he’s been in a while, he still has to resist the urge to fall back on old habits…particularly when old triggers come out swinging.
Tender Mercies should appeal to anyone who appreciates a good redemption story. It’s very much a character study, a look into the life of a man who is trying to let go of his past but doesn’t quite know how to move forward. “Hey, mister, were you really Mac Sledge?” a woman asks him at a grocery store. “Yes, ma’am, I guess I was.” I loved the phrasing of these lines. For Mac, that was a lifetime ago. He may not know where he’s going, but he knows where he’s been…and he’s not going back.
Robert Duvall won his only Academy Award for his part as Mac Sledge in Tender Mercies. Ironic, as it contains one of his most understated performances. The actor who screamed, “I love the smell of napalm in the morning!” here plays a character who says more in his eyes than his words. It’s a film that meant a lot to Duvall. He wrote and composed many of the songs he sings in the movie, showing deeper dedication than most actors take with any project. He’s rugged and handsome, worn from the life he’s led, but hopeful for the life that’s coming.
If this film sounds like Crazy Heart to you, you’re not wrong. The two films are eerily similar. In fact, Tender Mercies could be a music video for “The Weary Kind” without any trouble. But unlike Crazy Heart – which is overly dramatic at times – Tender Mercies doesn’t offer big revelations…just a life being lived and wrestling with what we should do with it all. It’s also an exceptional presentation of masculinity that shows how what we expect from men, i.e., holding back their emotions, can cripple them in tragic ways.
The Right Stuff
Director: Philip Kaufman
Starring: Sam Shepard, Fred Ward, Dennis Quaid, Ed Harris, Scott Glenn, Lance Henriksen, Scott Paulin, Barbara Hershey, Veronica Cartwright, Jane Dornacker, Kim Stanley, Pamela Reed, Charles Frank, Donald Moffat, Levon Helm, Mary Jo Deschanel, Jeff Goldblum, Harry Shearer, Scott Wilson, Kathy Baker, Mickey Crocker, Susan Kase, Mittie Smith, Royal Dano, David Clennon, Scott Beach, John P. Ryan, Eric Sevareid, William Russ, Robert Beer, Peggy Davis, John Dehner, Royce Grones, Chuck Yeager, Anthony Munoz, David Gulpilil
Oscar Wins: Best Music (Original Score), Best Film Editing, Best Sound Effects Editing, Best Sound
Other Nominations: Best Supporting Actor (Sam Shepard), Best Art Direction, Best Cinematography, Best Picture
America has always looked up to a certain type of hero…someone rugged on the outside, but tender on the inside. Someone who yearns for solitude but is also somewhat cursed with loneliness. Someone who’s charming, yet sad…and yes, someone with a great taste in leather. The Caped Crusader. The Frontiersman. The Fonz. But no one has truly captured this American hero quite like the cowboy.
Silhouetted against a setting sunset, the cowboy is pinnacle Americana. His rough hands and scraggily facial hair are proof that he enjoys a solitary life. Whether in film or on TV, the American cowboy used to be the symbol of masculinity, a beacon for young boys, brought to life by some of America’s best actors of the time, including Gary Cooper, James Stewart, John Wayne, Clint Eastwood, Henry Fonda, Paul Newman and Gregory Peck.
It’s almost poetic then that The Right Stuff, a film about the final frontier, begins with a shot of a cowboy. Saddled atop his steed, legendary lone wolf test pilot Chuck Yeager (Sam Shephard) reins in his horse, regarding a strange sight in the middle of the desert: the X-1 rocket plane he used to break the sound barrier. His presence at the beginning of the film marks a transition: a shift from the solitary hero to the team player. Cowboys, after all, don’t play well with others.
John Glenn (Ed Harris), Scott Glenn (Al Shepard), Gordon Cooper (Dennis Quaid), Gus Grissom (Fred Ward), Scott Carpenter (Charles Frank), Wally Schirra (Lance Henriksen), and Deke Slayton (Scott Paulin) – otherwise known as the Mercury Seven – ushered in a new era of teamwork, brotherhood, and comradery. These new American heroes weren’t that much different than Yeager – they still had that dare-devil attitude, the dedication to the job, the good taste in leather (aka ‘the right stuff’) – but they also knew they were stronger together. Their success, and their lives, depended on them working as one cohesive unit. The galaxy’s big, but not big enough for a cowboy’s ego, I guess.
One of the biggest things to come from Yeager breaking the sound barrier was the creation of the Mercury Project, a larger-than-life mission to ensure America was the first to put a human being into Earth’s orbit (spoiler alert – the Russians beat us at this and pretty much every other space-related thing but that’s neither here nor there). After an exhaustive search, NASA finally assembled the dream team – the Mercury Seven – a group of mavericks who were all too willing to take that highway to the danger zone.
Over the course of several years, these astronauts-in-training go through grueling physical and mental tests. They’re also subjected to the press as they, and their families, learn to deal with life in the spotlight.
While there are a lot of cool things that happen in The Right Stuff, there isn’t really a narrative spine that connects everything together. It’s not so much a film with a singular storyline as it is a series of episodes, moments from these years that have historical significance. Therefore, because the film never really focuses on one single person or character arc, it’s hard to stay invested – especially with the 3-hour run-time.
The tone of the film is also wonky. At first it feels very much like they wanted to make a semi-serious movie about this insane time in America’s history; but then we get a Mutt n’ Jeff team (Jeff Goldblum and Harry Shearer) as NASA recruiters and suddenly it feels very much like an SNL skit (granted, these two were hilarious and basically improvised everything they did…but it didn’t feel right in this setting).
But that’s not to say I didn’t enjoy it. The Right Stuff certainly made the best of all the 80’s-era tools at its disposal. Archival NASA film footage and some extraordinary model work helped this film age quite well in the 30-some years that have passed since its initial release. Most of it even looks better than Forrest Gump, a film that used similar technology 10 years later.
Seen now in the shadow of many more recent disasters, including The Challenger, The Columbia, and the even more recent OceanGate tragedy, The Right Stuff is a grim reminder of the cost of sending humans out to the great beyond. It’s a testament to the incredible feats of bravery, sacrifice and intelligence of which humans are capable – and to the inherent absurdity of climbing into tin cans mounted on fire missiles that blasting off into worlds unknown.
Terms of Endearment
Director: James L. Brooks
Starring: Shirley MacLaine, Debra Winger, Jack Nicholson, Danny DeVito, Jeff Daniels, John Lithgow, Lisa Hart Carroll, Huckleberry Fox, Troy Bishop, Shane Sherwin, Megan Morris, Tara Yeakey, Kate Charleson, Albert Brooks, Mary Kay Place, David Wohl, Paul Menzel, Betty King
Oscar Wins: Best Actress (Shirley MacLaine), Best Supporting Actor (Jack Nicholson), Best Director, Best Writing (Adapted Screenplay), Best Picture
Other Nominations: Best Actress (Debra Winger), Best Supporting Actor (John Lithgow), Best Art Direction, Best Sound, Best Music (Original Score), Best Film Editing
When families get together to share memories, the conversation has a way of moving back and forth from the sad stories to the happy ones. Someone will come up who has passed away and a moment of silence will be broken by a grin and a funny story. Life may not have a happy ending, but we sure do try to have some fun along the way.
One of the great things about Terms of Endearment is its ability to find balance between funny moments and sad ones, between times of deep truth and times of utter silliness. These characters never see what’s coming, and neither do we…because life is like that. This is a film with bold emotional scenes (get those tissues ready) and big laughs, but also moments of great tenderness and vulnerability. We come to laugh, come to cry, come to care, and come to terms.
At the center of this story is Aurora Greenway (Shirley MacLaine), a stern, fussy, domineering mother who keeps a watchful eye on her only child, a girl named Emma (Debra Winger). Emma remains in her mother’s orbit long after marrying Flap Horton (Jeff Daniels), a man Aurora despises. Things get worse when Emma and Flap become parents to not one, but three children, and Aurora must come to terms with the fact that she’s getting older, too. In the grand scheme of things, there’s nothing Aurora hates more than being called “grandma”.
A widow herself, Aurora hasn’t dated anyone since her husband died. She seems to have redirected her sexual desires into her backyard, where her garden has grown so large and elaborate that she either needs a man ASAP or needs to move to a house with a bigger yard.
The unavoidable fact of her own increasing age finally forces Aurora into the arms of her horny next-door neighbor, a former astronaut named Garrett Breedlove (Jack Nicholson). As the film’s comic relief, Garrett does his best to balance out Aurora’s cool demeanor with his wit and charm, making his scenes some of the most enjoyable in the film. Frankly, Nicholson doesn’t have to do much more than be himself here – as Garrett is one of those misogynistic alpha males who’s still oddly charismatic – probably much like ol’ Jackie IRL.
Meanwhile, Emma and Flap don’t have the happiest of marriages. Flap has a number of affairs and Emma hooks up with a banker named Sam (John Lithgow) for a bit. But, ever the dutiful wife, Emma picks up house and home and follows Flap as he chases his dreams through Texas, Des Moines and Nebraska.
But, as it’s bound to do, life throws a curveball at everyone about halfway through the film, turning this sometimes comedy into a bittersweet tragedy. Like I said, have those tissues ready.
Terms of Endearment is presented as a collage of slice-of-life scenes. Many of these scenes help highlight different aspects of Aurora and Emma’s relationship and how the mother-daughter dynamic changes over time. However, these frequent jumps in time do disorient the viewer a bit. And since so much of the focus is on developing Aurora and Emma, the outside characters (including a very under-used Danny DeVito) are left in the dust.
Terms of Endearment also joins a lineup of similar “small” films that the Academy favored over the blockbusters that swept theaters between 1975 and 1985. In the race for Best Picture, One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest beat out Jaws; Annie Hall beat out Star Wars; and Chariots of Fire beat out the far superior Raiders of the Lost Ark. While these intimate stories weren’t as well-loved by audiences as the early films of George Lucas and Steven Spielberg, they subtly struck an emotional chord and, maybe not so subtly, allowed Hollywood to push back on frivolous money monsters and big-budget blockbusters…a trend that’s still apparent in today’s recent Oscar lineups.
All in all, Terms of Endearment is an emotional rollercoaster that packs a lot into its runtime. Some plotlines work better than others, and honestly the film loses steam after its engaging first half, but the characters are entertaining and complex and there’s so much relatable content here that it might even help you come to terms with problems, or people, in your own life.
The Big Chill
Director: Lawrence Kasdan
Starring: Tom Berenger, Glenn Close, Jeff Goldblum, William Hurt, Kevin Kline, Mary Kay Place, Meg Tilly, JoBeth Williams, Don Galloway, James Gillis, Ken Place, Kevin Costner
Oscar Wins: No wins.
Other Nominations: Best Supporting Actress (Glenn Close), Best Writing (Original Screenplay), Best Picture
OK, Boomers – this one’s for you.
Packed with every song from the 1960s, The Big Chill follows a group of once-close Michigan college friends, now in their mid to late 30s, who reunite for a weekend of shared grief, soul searching, and sex, drugs and rock and roll after their college friend, Alex, commits suicide. With the ol’ gang back together again – each one of them now a member of Boomer culture – they’re all forced to face the loss, not just of their friend, but of their idealistic notions of youth.
Harold (Kevin Kline) and his wife, Sarah Cooper (Glenn Close) are living in their large, gated home in a rural suburb when they get the news that their longtime friend Alex committed suicide.
At the funeral, they are reunited with their once tight-knit group of friends. There’s Sam (Tom Berenger), a famous TV actor who’s embarrassed by his “Magnum P.I.” knockoff show; Michael (Jeff Goldblum), a journalist for People Magazine who is sick of writing fluff pieces that people read “while they’re on the can”; Meg (Mary Kay Place), a wealthy real estate attorney who’s obsessed with becoming a mother but can’t find a suitable man; Karen (JoBeth Williams), an unhappy housewife who feels like she had to put her dreams aside to raise her children; and Nick (William Hurt), a depressed Vietnam War vet who abuses drugs to escape the reality of his aimless career path. Quite the crew if I do say so myself.
After Alex’s burial, they all reconvene at Harold and Sarah’s home and end up staying to reconnect with each other after all these years of losing touch. On the outside, it seems like Harold and Sarah are the happiest of the lot, but even they have their struggles. “Where are we gonna put everybody?” Sarah whines when everyone agrees to stay the weekend. Never mind their 7,300 square-foot house features five bedrooms, five baths, and a guest house.
Over the course of the weekend, they eat, they drink, they pair up in various combinations. They ask themselves the deep questions like “who were we?”, “who are we now?”, “what happened to us?”, “where are we going?”. Over wine (and whine) and pasta, they contemplate how they’ve grown up into adulthood, consumerhood, parenthood, drunkenhood, adulteryhood, and regrethood.
While all the actors in this film would become huge names, they were still mostly unknown when making The Big Chill, which worked to the film’s advantage. It’s exciting to see a cast of newbies because it means we don’t see them as movie stars, we see them as the characters they play. They were also trained quite a bit in improvisation, which worked well since most conversations involve banter you can only have with friends you’ve known for years.
That being said, we as viewers can’t help but feel ostracized from this group. We don’t get their inside jokes. Nothing is really explained. Instead, it feels like being stuck with a group of people you’ve never met before. There’s an awkwardness that never really goes away and, for a socially awkward person like me, that made for a less than stellar movie experience.
In the end, nothing is really discovered. Nothing is really settled. Everyone just goes back into their individual holding patterns until the next funeral. At first I thought this was the weakness of the movie, but I think it’s also the movie’s message. Sometimes there’s no magic. The lack of a powerful ending may offer comfort that we’re not alone in our fears about mortality or failure…but we all get by with a little help from our friends.
The Dresser
Director: Peter Yates
Starring: Albert Finney, Tom Courtenay, Edward Fox, Zena Walker, Eileen Atkins, Michael Gough, Cathryn Harrison, Betty Marsden, Sheila Reid, Lockwood West, Donald Eccles, Llewellyn Rees, Guy Manning, Anne Mannion, Kevin Stoney, Ann Way, John Sharp, Kathy Staff, Roger Avon
Oscar Wins: No wins.
Other Nominations: Best Actor (Albert Finney), Best Actor (Tom Courtenay), Best Director, Best Writing (Adapted Screenplay), Best Picture
Like the best British servants, Norman (Tom Courtenay) has devoted the best years of his life to the service of an egomaniacal actor who only goes by “Sir” (Albert Finney). Besides being an “ac-tor” of the highest regard, Sir is also the manager of his own theatrical troupe, touring the provinces to offer a season of Shakespeare’s best. One night he’s King Lear. The next, Othello. The next, Richard III. Most nights, as Norman dresses him, Sir has to ask what role he’s even playing.
But Norman does a great deal more than just dress his actor. He’s also Sir’s confidant, morale booster, masseuse, and physician, nursing him through his many hangovers with medicinal amounts of brandy. Norman is utterly committed to propping Sir up and keeping him going, perhaps feeling that this gives him a kind of power…the kind of power one attains by debasing himself before his idol. Sir, however, takes Norman for granted, and this difference between them provides the strong – and sometimes humorous – emotional tension that fuels The Dresser.
The Dresser is a backstage movie, based on a backstage play. Most of the action happens behind the scenes of a little provincial theater, barely standing as World War II rages on outside. Sir, a once-famous Shakespearean actor, is of the old, bombastic school of British acting, full of grand gestures and fine oratory. Yet he’s also a complete mess. He’s so hungover, shaky and confused that he can’t even remember his first line.
By now, Norman is used to Sir’s tirades and temperamental rants. He’s always waiting backstage with whatever Sir needs: be it a drink, a costume change, or a line reading. When others in the troupe express their concern regarding Sir’s mental health, Norman doesn’t bat one of his pretty little eyelashes. Sir’s wandering mind and incoherent ramblings gradually become more focused as Norman gets him to concentrate on things like applying his makeup, reading his lines, putting on his costume. It doesn’t take long to see how dependent these men are on each other. Sir would have no career left without Norman and Norman, even worse, would have no life without Sir, to whom he has dedicated the majority of his life.
War and worries be damned, Sir’s grandiose performance as King Lear in the final act of the film is a triumph. But Norman, the foolish mortal, can’t fix everything. After collapsing from exhaustion, Sir requests Norman read to him from the autobiography he’s been writing (though all he’s written is the opening dedication). Norman reads aloud Sir’s gracious “thank yous” to his audiences, his fellow actors, the stage technicians, even the Bard himself…but not a word about his dresser, who has served him so long and loyally.
“As flies to wanton boys are we to th' gods,” Shakespeare said in King Lear. “They kill us for their sport.” The Dresser uses King Lear to underscore the story of Sir and Norman. Sir is a Lear-like character, battling nay-sayers, young actors, and financial struggles, not to mention his own increasing age and mental deterioration. Norman is the fool – the younger man dumb enough to continue serving Sir through his master’s violent outrages and insulting remarks. And, like Lear, Sir realizes his folly at a time when the damage to his family has already been done.
Completely engaging and brilliant, Albert Finney creates a physical bravura that’s ideal for this role. When he’s running late for his next performance, standing on a platform shouting “STOP…THAT…TRAIN!” in his most Gandalf-ian impression, it’s really no surprise that the train actually stops. This is a man who can command his audience, regardless of whether or not he’s on a stage.
The Dresser is a valentine to the theater and a bittersweet character study of a complex bond between a man and the man behind the man. It’s a wonderful collection of theatrical lore, detail, and superstition, including a great backstage moment involving off-stage actors creating a storm using drums and props. It worked well as a film, but it would be even better on stage, where we could get the full effect of how transformative, how powerful, how magical, theater truly is.
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