Category: Bill Murray

TOOTSIE

By Marc S. Sanders

Tootsie is my favorite comedy of all time.  At age ten I saw it on Christmas Eve with my family and beyond the Star Wars and Rocky films, I had yet to see an audience respond, or more specifically laugh, so uncontrollably for two hours straight.  I might not have recognized all of the innuendo and I was not yet alert to the idea of women feeling belittled while knowing they should be entitled to equal respect, but the performances, especially from Dustin Hoffman were entirely genuine.  Tootsie still remains the only film where I can forget that a man, a not so attractive or sexy man, is convincingly disguising himself as a woman who possesses internal strength and gusto.

Whether directing or acting on screen, Sydney Pollack was not someone well known for overseeing comedy at the time.  Yet, that’s an attribute to the end product of this celebrated movie.  Other than a typical Bill Murray routine in an uncredited role, no one in this picture is waving their hands in the air to insist they’re funny.  The humor of Tootsie bears from true, raw emotion, fear and desperation.  No one is doing Saturday Night Live sketches and building up to the next punchline.  Despite the cross dressing, Tootsie is not even a farce.  A guy gets a job wearing the necessary garb and modifying his verbiage, but only to earn enough money to survive.  However, it also doesn’t help that he’s falling for his co-worker.  

Dustin Hoffman is an actor living in New York City named Michael Dorsey.  He’s a great, learned performer, especially on the stage, who lives with his playwright buddy Jeff (Murray) in a crummy apartment in the meat packing district.  They need to raise enough money to put on Jeff’s play in Syracuse.  

The problem is that Michael can no longer get cast in anything.  Not on stage or even in a commercial.  His agent (Pollack) says it point blank that nobody will hire him.  He’s just too difficult with short bursts of temper and no tolerance for others who work in the field.  

So, Michael surrenders to desperation and puts on the guise of a character actress named Dorothy Michaels.  As quick as she stands up for femininity against a chauvinistic TV director (Dabney Coleman) she is cast on the most watched daytime soap opera.  As long as Michael can perform off and on camera as Dorothy he should be able to earn more than enough money for Jeff’s play.

Complications arise though when he becomes protective of his co-star, Julie (Jessica Lange, in her Oscar winning role), against her unfaithful boyfriend, the TV director.  Julie’s widowed father, Les, is falling for Dorothy though, and then there is Michael’s friend Sandy (Teri Garr) who lost out on the part that he earned, and to keep things maintained has been seduced by Michael into a romantic relationship beyond just their friendship.

With me so far?  I hope so because there’s even more obstacles to overcome.  Tootsie is very economical in its story development, but it’s also a very crowded film.

Don McGuire and Larry Gelbart (TV’s M*A*S*H) wrote this Oscar nominated script with a brilliant collection of characters.  The blessing is while it sounds like farce, Tootsie is never delivered with a slapstick tongue.  In order for the film to work, Dustin Hoffman especially had to portray Michael Dorsey as a guy with natural ticks, motivations and fears.  He accomplishes that because Michael always ensures that Dorothy is as real as she can ever be.  When Dorothy hails a cab or shops for clothes the southern accent must hold while perusing through the city streets in heels.  Michael gets frustrated over what to wear for a dinner visit at Julie’s apartment.  Especially when Julie opens up her heart, Hoffman is precise to make sure Dorothy approaches with a low whispered approach to simply be a consoling girlfriend.  

The comedy arrives when Michael has no other choice but to break this strong powered female persona.  Dorothy will call for a cab but if it just won’t stop, then a deep voiced, bellowing New Yorker will come out of this woman’s mouth with an angry “TAXI!!!”  I like to believe that Sydney Pollack deliberately arranged for Dorothy to yank a Woody Allen lookalike out of a cab that was about to be taken from Dorothy too.  Dustin Hoffman knows Michael Dorsey is such a committed method actor that he has to convince all eight million people in New York he is strong willed Dorothy Michaels – a character actress capable of playing the new Hospital Administrator on Southwest General. 

There are so many fleshed out pairs of relationships in Tootsie – all going beyond the cross dressing of the film’s main character.  All of these people could get along forever if only for the fact that some characters have befriended a man while others truly believe they have made a connection with a woman.  How long can we have it both ways?  The facade has to undo itself, right?  True.  Thankfully it occurs at the end when every single character can have it explained to them all at once.  I’ve never forgotten the roars of laughter from my mom, dad and grandmother as the end of Tootsie arrived.  Well-placed close-up shots of every actor who had a speaking role in this movie is covered (well except for Sydney Pollack as Michael’s agent). On Christmas Eve in 1982, the packed movie house at the Forum Theater on Route 4 in Paramus NJ only amplified the shocking reactions.  Tootsie is a reason why you sit among a crowd at a movie theater.  

This is Dustin Hoffman’s all-time best performance.  He was nominated against fierce competition from Paul Newman in The Verdict, Jack Lemmon in Missing, and Ben Kingsley in Ghandi (who took home the trophy). Michael Dorsey/Dorothy Michaels is a much more challenging role than what Hoffman superbly accomplished in his two Oscar winning roles (Kramer Vs Kramer, Rain Man).  Robin Williams or Tom Hanks could have played Michael Dorsey who invents Dorothy Michaels.  Yet, what Hoffman emotes are the natural tics of a guy who is constantly broke while he charms an array of women at his birthday party, only with the intention of bedding them and hardly ever listening to what these ladies have to say.  When Hoffman puts Michael literally in a pair of woman’s shoes though, he begins to identify the lack of respect that women endure on a daily basis.  

Watch Dustin Hoffman’s body language.  He becomes angered with his agent upon learning that he lost out on a role which somehow leads to a debate about whether a tomato should walk or talk or sit or stand.  That back and forth is outrageously hilarious.  Having seen Tootsie hundreds of times though, I now appreciate how a schleppy looking Michael hustles across the streets of New York, avoiding traffic and then marches down the hallway to his agent’s office.  Hoffman twitches his head and shrugs his shoulders as if he’s prepping to give the agent a piece of his mind.  Hoffman is so absorbed in this guy he’s playing.  I am not recognizing any other kind of Dustin Hoffman that I’ve seen anywhere else.

Sydney Pollack is also attuned to the cutthroat atmosphere of desperate theater folk trying to survive in this concrete jungle.  Tootsie opens with a montage of quick episodes for Michael.  He is leading a workshop while being candidly ugly with his fellow thespian students about how challenging it is to get work.  In between, are auditions that he goes on where there is one reason after another why he can’t land a role.  Michael Dorsey is an incredibly skillful actor, but that means nothing for this role or that role.

On this most recent viewing I caught on to a detail that never occurred to me.  Bill Murray as Jeff, the broke playwright, is snacking on lemons and wincing while he talks to Michael.  Now I don’t know if this is in the script or if this was Pollack or Murray’s idea.  Nevertheless, it’s a brilliant detail.  These guys are so broke that they have resorted to smuggling lemon slices out of the restaurant they work at to live off of.  Another actor or filmmaker would have used an orange or cookies.  Who snacks on lemons?  Only those with nothing else to rely on.  

Makeup bottles with spirit gum, cannisters of fake blood, prosthetic teeth, props and sloppily hung costume wear are all given focus beyond the broad comedic storylines.  Sydney Pollack pans his camera over all of these items with no actors in frame because he wanted to ensure that being an actor or a playwright in New York is nothing glamorous.  It’s a world of unending torment. All of these nuances and details justify the extremes that Michael has to go through to achieve his goal.  

Jessica Lange never plays her role for laughs.  Her portrayal of Julie, the beautiful, blond celebrity of daytime television, is authentic and she inherits a new girlfriend to confide in. Finally, Julie can share what she values and holds dear.  You can’t not fall in love with someone who only treasures the best parts of her young life and yet only seeks a companion to chat with.  A humble celebrity is hard to find and that is one reason Michael falls hard for her.  Lange is outstanding while being so heartfelt.

Teri Garr’s comedy stems from the insecurities of actors.  Sandy is described as someone who wants to commit suicide at a birthday party.  Doing community theater for over thirty years I know precisely who this person is.  I’ve been this person, and I’ve encountered hundreds of these people.  It’s hard to be a big fish in the small pond of community theater.  Imagine trying to hold on to your sanity when you have to compete with all of New York.  Teri Garr was rightly Oscar nominated for what could have been a throwaway part. Like Hoffman she also has these little gestures that suggest her lack of confidence. After she sleeps with Michael and he’s getting ready to leave, Garr peaks at her naked chest hidden underneath the sheets.  It’s as if she’s wondering was I not attractive enough.  She’s hurting. No matter if she just had sex with one of her favorite people, she is still suffering.

Charles Durning is familiar for having the tough guy, intimidating persona because he’s usually so much larger than life.  However, he offers a sweetness to this guy who’s ready for companionship.  You don’t want Michael or Dorothy to let him down.  Les doesn’t deserve to get hurt.

Again, as I described any of these characterizations, none of it is funny.  They are wrapped in sensitivity. There’s a lonely sadness to people like Michael, Jeff, Julie, Sandy and Les.  Yet, when this variety of sorrow and anguish collide, while poor Michael is only trying to make some money, does it all combust in hilariously, unwinnable scenarios of tremendous proportions.

Tootsie is an amazing film.  It is one of the smartest, most insightful scripts ever written and it is blessed with a cast and director who mastered how to live in an unforgiving and unsympathetic industry.  This picture offers lessons in the human spirit while demonstrating the lengths and boundaries that must be broken in order to survive.  By practically not performing as a comedy, it only becomes that much more funnier and wiser.  

Tootsie is a perfect film!

SCROOGED

By Marc S. Sanders

Bill Murray with director Richard Donner delivered their contribution to the Charles Dickens assortment of A Christmas Carol iterations with a modern update called Scrooged.  Until now, this movie eluded me.  Yet I can’t deny it has all the ingredients for a sure-fire green light to make the movie.  Bill Murray? Doing Ebenezer Scrooge?  Stop everything people!  Get this ready for December.  STAT!

Unfortunately, it misses the mark.  

Now, I’m supposed to like this miser by the end of the story, right?  So then why is Murray’s personification so annoying and unappealing by the end? If I was his nephew, I’d rescind my invitation to come over for Christmas dinner.

The best and most hilarious part of Scrooged occurs in the beginning following the easily recognizable Danny Elfman instrumentals.  Santa and his elves are happily making toys when suddenly terrorists attack the North Pole and Lee Majors jumps out of nowhere ready to bear arms with ol’ St. Nick and his crew.  I was sad to realize this was only a TV commercial for the station programming that Murray’s character oversees.  If there is a God, he’ll reveal the location of the lost film for The Night The Reindeer Died.  Earlier this year I saw Lee Majors needlessly squandered away in the terrible Fall Guy adaptation.  It crushes me that he got this same kind of treatment over thirty years prior.

Bill Murray is the uncaring and thoughtless Frank Cross.  When we meet him on Christmas Eve day, he’s firing an executive (Bobcat Goldthwaite) for simply disagreeing with him.  Also, in typical overplayed Bill Murray fashion, Frank insists that his assistant Grace (Alfre Woodard) ignore the needs of her family during the holiday and get work done with him.  Grace of course filling in for the Bob Cratchit role.  

Following a few other gags to parade the comedian’s antics around, Frank is encountered with the Jacob Marley stand in, played by John Forsythe.  At this point I’m still with the picture even if the breadcrumbs are easy to follow.  Forsythe, in his grotesque makeup, works well against the clown who leads this movie.  (Not a bad scene together between Charlie and Bosley. “Hello Angels!”).

It’s when the follow up ghosts make appearances that my mind ponders what I’ll be writing about in this review.  Ghosts of Christmas Past (David Johansen) and Present (Carol Kane) enter on cue and right away I grew bored and uninterested.  

Johansen is a cabbie, or just another screeching screamer like Murray.  He’s laughing at Frank’s demise and past missed opportunities, but I’m not seeing what’s funny or even heartbreaking.  Neither theatrical mask of comedy or tragedy is functioning.  Carol Kane does her typical schtick with the high-pitched baby talk voice, dressed in a fairy get up.  Beyond that familiar routine, she commits every kind of Three Stooges smack and painful tug on Frank’s face that you can imagine.  Why of all things does she rely on a toaster to upper cut the jerk in his face?  I mean why a toaster???? If the comedy works, then I should not be wondering why a toaster or a pie or two by four or an anvil.

There’s nothing wisely written here.  The screaming and the smacking get old very fast and it gets in the way of a potential love story passed by that the script was promising for the Frank Cross character and his crush Claire (Karen Allen, whose smile always lights up a room).  I never felt like Bill Murray was ever listening to Karen Allen in the scenes they share.  Did they even rehearse this stuff?  Too often, Bill Murray seems to just be winging it, and it wouldn’t make a difference if Karen Allen even memorized her lines.

Scrooged starts out with fresh, quality made National Lampoon material but then waddles into the same typical chapters of Dickens’ holiday story.  However, while it hammers the familiar story beat by beat and you tell yourself there’s the Fred character and there’s the mute kid covering for a crippled Tiny Tim and there’s Yet To Come, you got Bill Murray who was granted too much artistic license to improvise, and has thus squeezed out all of the sensitivity and spirit that we expect from A Christmas Carol.

I’m sorry but I think I liked this Frank Cross a whole lot more before he was visited by the ghosts.  This is one Scrooge who should’ve been allowed to sleep through Christmas.

PS: If anyone can find a DVD print of The Night The Reindeer Died, I’m ready to review it.

GHOSTBUSTERS: FROZEN EMPIRE

By Marc S. Sanders

When you make a new installment in a long-celebrated franchise, going on forty years, you have to reinvent the base material to keep it fresh and new.  I think the Jurassic Park/World movies are fun, but don’t they also feel like carbon copies of each other by this point?  I mean how much can you broaden the adventures that come with dinosaurs? The roar, they run, they eat.  

With the Ghostbusters films, there’s more flexibility in what you can do.  You can replace Saturday Night Live players with a fun, lovable leading man like Paul Rudd and he can team up with some brainy kids to fend off ghosts in the best movie jungle there is, New York City.  However, why drain all of the comedy out of the burger?  

The ongoing teenage troubles of the latest reinvention of the Reitman/Ramis/Aykroyd property hinges on so much teen angst that ghosts and ghouls only appear after we’ve endured one Breakfast Club moment after another.  Sadly, there aren’t many spooky critters roaming around the metro area anymore.  Who you gonna call? Doesn’t feel like we need to call anybody, really.

Here’s the pyramid food chain of Frozen Empire.  1) Sad, frustrated teens 2) Inevitable cameos of the celebrated heroes of the first two movies 3) Ghosts.  This movie needs to reexamine its priorities.  

The main storyline is carried by McKenna Grace as Egon’s granddaughter Phoebe who is grounded by Walter Peck aka Mr. Pecker aka Dickless (William Atherton).  I’m referencing what this guy is remembered as because the movie fails to do so. Phoebe is a minor.  Therefore, she can’t hunt after ghosts and thus builds a relationship with a sixteen-year-old friend named Melody (Emily Alyn Lind) who appears in the form of blue supernatural lighter fluid.  Melody died in a fire.  Sooooooo…much of these two young ladies’ sad sleepover conversations populate the film.

Then there is Dan Aykroyd returning as Ray to enlighten some back story on the main monster we can expect to appear in the third act.  He’s performing like an R.L. Stine adult in a second-rate Nickelodeon kid’s picture though.  Ray Stanz was always the guy who had loony science on his mind, but the comedy of the character shown through with Aykroyd’s boyish naïveté.  Remember how excited Ray was to go down the fire pole or when he thought up the giant marshmallow man?  What about when he talked back to the pink slime in the first sequel? It was downright ridiculous and now Ray is a midlife crisis depressant.  

Bill Murray is collecting a paycheck again.  The character is the same with the comedian’s special sarcasm, but if he’s in this film longer that ten minutes it’s a lot and he utters no more than five lines.  He serves one purpose to Frozen Empire – to be in the advertisements and draw a crowd.  Paul Rudd and Bill Murray have done two Ghostbusters and an Ant-Man movie together and somehow, they still have yet to share a great exchange of dialogue.  For the third time in four years, Rudd and Murray seem to be unaware that they are both members of SAG working on the same project.  If I ever need to deliver the argument that there is a lack of good writers working today, I’ll use these missed opportunities as an example of what I mean. 

Annie Potts wears the nerdy glasses, but I don’t remember a thing she says.  Ernie Hudson as Winston plays the financier of the modern Ghostbusters, but there’s nothing special going on with him.  Even the librarian from that fantastic opening of the 1984 film appears.  He talks to Ray for a moment and that’s it.

Why are these people here?  Just so we can say “Uh!  Look who it is!!!”  C’mon!  Surely, there’s something better to be spun here.

Part of the plot involves the threat that the storage container of all the ghosts ever captured over the years will be breaking down soon and set all of the paranormal prisoners free.  That’s brilliant!!!  Yet, why doesn’t the movie capitalize on that????? We are threatened by this terrible scenario over and over with music of impending doom and glances at a digital monitor.  Can the thing just break already?  

We see the slimer green ghost blob under a pile of candy wrappers in the attic.  Not bad.  Where are the other ghosts we had become familiar with?  Remember the cab driver, or the angelic apparition that seduced Ray in his sleep?  Where are they?  I’d rather see these guys than a boring Dan Aykroyd in a jean jacket.

The best parts of Frozen Empire occur in a turn of the century prologue with frozen characters in a formal dining room.  There’s also a fantastic pursuit following that scene showing all the cool tricks of the updated ECTO mobile as it races through the streets chasing after an eel like monster.  During the sequence a drone trap launches off the roof of the hearse!  That’s awesome.  The last good scene occurs midway when one of the stone lions outside the NYC public library comes alive. Everything else in this sleepy picture is very bland, however.

The original, and even Ghostbusters II and the Paul Feig lady comedienne reinvention worked as comedies like the franchise became known for.  I wasn’t crazy about those two sequels but at least the ghosts were the punchlines.  Now the main ghost needs therapy and so does the lead character.  It’s so dreary.  

Where’s the funny?  There is no longer a silliness or loony tune appeal to these monsters.  As well, there are no more jokes to tell about The Big Apple.  Don’t forget that Ghostbusters showed us that ghouls can pop out of drainpipes, drive cabs, gorge themselves on room service meals and hot dog stands and even cause the ghost hunters to wreck a posh banquet hall all in the service of the greater good.  The well of laughs that stem from New York cannot be all dried up just yet.  There are subways and buses to haunt. Broadway theatres. Cell phones. Parades. Ferrys. Morning News Shows.

I left Ghostbusters: Frozen Empire feeling morose and melancholy.  When I got home, I knew for the first time that Zuul could never be living in my refrigerator and suddenly I was as sad as Melody and Phoebe.  If this movie is depressing, then is it me or is it the Ghostbusters of today?

ANT-MAN AND THE WASP: QUANTUMANIA

By Marc S. Sanders

Ant-Man And The Wasp: Quantumania is a fun frolic through the Quantum Realm, another dimension that was uncovered in previous chapters within the Ant-Man series of films.  I’m not watching a potential Best Picture nominee for 2023.  I’m watching a glorious kaleidoscope of colors and visual effects with likable characters, and the setup of a new big bad villain for upcoming installments for the Marvel Cinematic Universe.  It’s not a perfect movie.  It’s corny and hokey at times, but I was with the picture the whole way.

I do believe these sci fi superhero franchise films are getting way too diluted.  I think there are more Marvel films now, all working within a shared universe, then there are episodes of single seasons of television shows.  A lot of these films do not stand apart any longer and hinge on events or hanging threads that occur in prior installments.  It makes for a lot of homework and time spent on the consumer to keep track of everything, and where everyone was last left off.  With Disney + adding in multiple Marvel streaming series to watch as well, I’m sorry but my days feel like they need to be extended beyond the standard 24 hours.  The economic term known as “The Law Of Diminishing Marginal Utility” hearkens back to me at this point, all these years later after we first met Robert Downey Jr. as Iron Man in 2008.  Are viewers getting tired of the superhero phenomenon?  Superhero movies rule the box office these days.  Westerns did it four or five generations ago.  How many new westerns do you now see each year?

The blessing of Quantumania is that it does not rely abundantly on other material in the Marvel Cinematic Universe.  Scott Lang (Paul Rudd) reintroduces himself in a very adoring Paul Rudd-like way with a voiceover and thereafter, he is unexpectedly sucked into the Quantum Realm, along with his daughter Cassie (Kathryn Newton), his current partner Hope Van Dyne (Evangeline Lilly), aka The Wasp, and his mentors Hank Pym and Janet Van Dyne (Michael Douglas, Michelle Pfeiffer).  The gang must primarily depend on Janet to navigate them through this world of inconsistency and oddball inhabitants where no two characters seem to look alike.  Janet was marooned in the Quantum Realm for thirty years before finally being rescued.  What concerns her the most is one who is first referred to as “The Conqueror,” and later identified as the frightening superman known as Kang (Jonathan Majors), who was mysteriously exiled to this place.  As Janet describes, Kang has made the prison of the Quantum Realm his empire and now he wants to use the technology that our heroes possess to break free of this dimension and cause all kinds of chaos in the real world and other parallel universes.

The best assets to the film are the scenes between Jonathan Majors and Michelle Pfeiffer.  Granted, their dialogue could apply to any other kind of movie.  A lot of ping pong arguments between the villain and hero, which if I remember correctly go something like “You don’t understand.” and “I’ll never let that happen.”  This verbiage could also be suitable in a Meryl Streep tearjerker or a courtroom drama.  It’s pretty standard.  We’ve seen discussions like this a million times before.  Fortunately, my state of mind was not demanding of thought-provoking conversation.  The magnetism of their acting in front of the expansive CGI environment kept me hooked.   Jonathan Majors simply looks like a very frightening threat.  He’s calm at one point and later raging like a lunatic.  The man has levels.  If he were reciting the ingredients of chocolate chip cookies, I’d be on pins and needles. 

I do not think Quantumania is going to wow most audiences.  In fact, it’ll be a divisive film.  It’ll go half and half.  Though I really do not like to rank films any longer because it feels so pointless, I got into a debate with my wife and daughter about which one was better.  Quantumania or Wakanda Forever.  Both films have their merits, but I left the latest Black Panther film feeling a little depressed and exhausted.  That was a long time to feel morose for a superhero film.  The ladies, however, appreciated the story of that film over this one.  (I wanted to see the Black Panther suit a lot sooner.  I wanted a handful of people to be cut from the film, and I thought the Namor character was very boring.  Look for my review on this site.)

With Quantumania, audiences are either going to like the weirdness that is splashed all over the screen.  Splashed is not a strong enough word.  Try SPLATTERED!!!! Everywhere you look there is something abnormal to see from one corner to the next.  On the other hand, viewers will think the Quantum Realm and its inhabitants are just too bizarre, and the Marvel filmmakers are scraping the bottom of the barrel in imagination.  Sorry, but I got a kick out of the tall stilt guy with a spot light lamp for a head.  I thought the pink goo guy was cute.  I also giggled at the fat head henchman, with scrawny arms and legs, known as M.O.D.O.K. (with Corey Stall, making an MCU return).  The functionality of this character is deliberately lacking and comes off like Looney Tunes cutting room material, but that’s also why he is here.  If there was anything looking remotely normal in the Quantum Realm, well then it isn’t the Quantum Realm, I guess.  Bill Murray even shows up, but if you need a bathroom break, this is when you should go.  All of this looks way too stupid, yes!  Then again, stupid can be entertaining and stupid is often taken with subjectivity. So, I’m just one guy’s opinion. 

Quantumania is maybe the most unsophisticated of all the Marvel films.  More so than the Guardians movies, or the most recent Thor installment.  With a happy go lucky Paul Rudd, an army of ants and some of the most bizarre CGI extras found anywhere it proudly stands tall on that pedestal of ultra, ultra, ULTRA weird.  I think director Peyton Reed accomplished what he set out to do with this film.  The question is will the film win majority of approval within the nerd land of keyboard warriors like myself, who share their perspectives on the internet.  Well, the movie gets my vote at least.

CADDYSHACK

By Marc S. Sanders

Do you think in 10 years or even 50 years from now, people will remember that Harold Ramis was one of the funniest writers in film history? Animal House, Stripes, Scrooged, Groundhog Day (I hate it, but I won’t deny its legacy every February 2nd), and Ghostbusters. One film that cemented the stage for his success in the 1980s is arguably Caddyshack, which focuses on the snobs vs slobs at a high-end golf country club known as…ahem…Bushwood. It’s okay to laugh. Your mother is not in the room.

Caddyshack is more or less a vehicle for the comedic talents of Saturday Night Live players to put out their best material seemingly made up on the fly. Bill Murray is the demented grounds keeper tasked with getting rid of a damaging gopher. Chevy Chase seems to be the charmer with a delivery of wit in every word he says. He’s more or less good looking here but just as deliberately stupid as everyone else. Rodney Dangerfield goes beyond his stand-up routines, or maybe he doesn’t. He’s just shoved into the film and let loose to anger and harass the head snob, Ted Knight. Knight is unquestionably the best of the bunch here. He’s got such great timing with his outbursts and delivery. I even love how he pronounces the car maker Audi. It’s more like “ottie.”

Ramis has a thin storyline about one caddy (Michael O’Keefe) trying to win a college scholarship. Meh. So what! Caddyshack works best when it’s just playing for skits and raw laughs. There’s gross out comedy like doodie in the swimming pool, compliments of a Baby Ruth candy bar, and vomiting in cars. Dangerfield’s one liners are fast and loose. The judge’s daughter is a sly minx for the dweeby male cast to ogle, and the gopher footage with Murray is straight out of Looney Toons. I do love the irony of the Catholic priest going out to play 9 holes in the middle of an electrical storm; a prophet who will spit in the face of God. “OH RAT FARTS!!!!”

Caddyshack is not my favorite of Ramis’ films, but it’s become a touchstone in comedy quotes and repeat viewings. It’s stupid and coarse and silly and belongs nowhere in the Parthenon of great filmmaking efforts but it’s a favorite of almost anyone’s for how brash it truly is. It’s an R rated interpretation of The Three Stooges. If not for nothing, I’m sure that somewhere there is an esteemed judge of the cloth who was proud to sentence young men to the gas chamber as a means of “owing it to them.”

Harold Ramis with co-writer Brian Doyle Murray (Bill’s brother) conceived of Caddyshack as a push back against that system of order. Well done, men. Tee up!

STRIPES

By Marc S. Sanders

A trifecta of talent was widely received when Bill Murray, Harold Ramis and Ivan Reitman came on the Hollywood scene. With films like Meatballs and Animal House, they were toeing the line of B movie T&A material. Audiences, however, responded to the wisdom in the comedic potential of disregarding the authoritative party. That is especially true in their R rated army romp from 1981, Stripes.

Stripes is arguably not their most memorable film of any of their careers, but for me it is probably my favorite; more than Caddyshack or Ghostbusters. The comedy was spot on, and the timing was perfect. When John Winger and Russell Zisky (Murray & Ramis) decide to enlist in the army on a spur of the moment, their basic training experience is actually believable. It could happen. I could relate. If I was as big a guy as John Candy, playing the lovable “Ox,” and I was running the obstacle course, yeah…I might run off course uncontrollably into the outer woods. All these guys are completely out of shape. There’s no way we were ever gonna see Rambo here.

Bill Murray might be the leader of this rag tag gang of miscreants, but his own material is just very, very funny. Few comedies have such a hilarious opening scene as he does while he escorts a snobby woman to the airport in his cab. He has enough of her, and so everything is put out on the table. The Three Stooges would have smacked a pie in this woman’s face. John Winger decides to terrify her with some action photos while he drives. To date, no one has ever come close to duplicating this scene.

Winger continues with his rebellion against his Drill Sargent played by Warren Oates who is terrific in his own right. Oates convincingly comes off as straight army material amid all of these nitwits. He can give a facial expression that says a thousand words.

John Candy is a huge highlight in perhaps his breakthrough cinematic performance. Ramis and Reitman wrote a great character in Ox. I think it’s hilarious that a fat guy thinks the most ideal way to lose weight is to join the army because it’s free with a six to eight week work program. We all love to see that it eventually occurs to Ox that basic training in the Army is not exactly a weight watchers program. A major highlight is when Winger rushes Ox into a mud wrestling ring at an adult club. Pure slapstick fun. You can’t help but laugh.

I’m surprised to see that many took issue with the film’s second half. I loved it as the platoon has to pursue Winger and Ziskey who have a special puke green colored RV that the army has engineered with more weaponry than a James Bond car. Eventually, this leads to a ridiculous rescue within a Russian occupied Czechoslovakian outpost. It’s a great blend of action and comedy that holds up nearly 40 years later. What’s not to like?

I’ll be honest. I saw Stripes when I was 10 or 11, and it actually gave me an education on the current life of what it’s like to be in the Army. Having never enlisted, I’m nevertheless convinced that Warren Oates was an accurate interpretation of what a hard driven Drill Sargeant was like. Because it seemed so genuine. It seemed only fitting that a great comedy could be drawn from resisting that kind of authority. The material in Stripes didn’t come off silly or Looney Tunes like. It all seemed natural. The jokes just came alive amid the challenges of entering the Army life.

Stripes remains a favorite comedy of mine.

MEATBALLS

By Marc S. Sanders

Director Ivan Reitman with Bill Murray and writer Harold Ramis made a fantastic team. Their summer camp comedy, Meatballs, from 1979 is not one of the all-time greats but it’s still a fun romp through the life of young campers peddled off under the supervision of teen counselors for eight weeks.

Meatballs works as an excuse to allow Bill Murray to break free from his SNL restraints and allow his off the cuff humor to improv its way through. As the head counselor named Tripper, Murray gives hilarious loudspeaker announcements about the cafeteria lunch or daily activities. He also uses his CITs, with names like Spaz, Crockett and Fink to carry Morty (“Hi Mickey!”) the camp manager who’s sleeping in his bunk out into the woods, or the lake or high up in a tree for his morning wake up surprise. This is all Animal House lite.

A touching secondary story involves a lonely teen camper named Rudy (Chris Makepeace) to bond with Tripper. Though I enjoyed my summer camp days, I was much like Rudy, not an athlete. I was a fast runner though, and Tripper with the Bill Murray personality builds Rudy’s confidence during the film leading up to the climactic inter camp big race. It’s not necessarily a well-rounded storyline. It tidies itself up pretty neatly by the end, but it’s a break from the material shenanigans, in between. Look, even a film like Meatballs needs some semblance of story somewhere.

The fun comes in brief skits with Meatballs. There’s sing along songs like “Are You Ready For The Summer?” and the campfire favorite “We’re The North Star CITs!” There’s the hot dog eating contest, Spaz’ spoon water relay and the basketball game against the wealthy, neighboring camp who can’t keep their shorts up.

Meatballs is a movie that would be shot with better quality on an iPhone today, but the dated camp days of the late ‘70s remain cherished here, before we became reliant upon technology. It’s a time where we depended on the outdoors, without mom and dad, and getting into harmless trouble while making new friends and discovering our freedom and ourselves.

The original Meatballs still has some material that’s worth a watch, and it still makes me yearn for my cabin bunk days. It’s nice to reminisce and it’s all just fun.