Category: Sean Young

WALL STREET

By Marc S. Sanders

Oliver Stone is a very good director at providing the evidence of cynicism within the worlds he films.  JFK covered a clandestine, conspiring environment oozing out of the columns of government.  Platoon not only depicted the horrors of war, but also the cancer that poisons the mentality of soldiers expected to protect one another.  Wall Street explores the temptations to cheat the stock market for grand prizes in wealth.  Gordon Gekko is the 1980s tycoon who never knows the meaning of enough.

The well-dressed yuppie lizard, Gordon Gekko, is memorably played by Michael Douglas in his only Oscar winning role; regarded as one of the most villainous characters of the last fifty years.  It’s not a modest part, and Douglas’ performance is therefore electrifying.  With slicked back hair, the signature crackle of a voice inherited by his father Kirk, and the newest 80s innovation, a brick size cellular phone, the power to earn money and crush corporate enemies is done with ease.  Gekko relies on obtaining inside information (a federal crime) to find the next chest of treasures.  It might be an illegal practice but the best of the best at making mountains of money do it, and if you keep your process on the down low, nobody will catch wind of what you’re up to.  Gordon Gekko is an absolute genius, and he’s awarded a script of fast talking, slick monologues that justify his sins.

Bud Fox (Charlie Sheen) is the kid on the ground, way below Gordon’s high-rise office, desperately trying to get five minutes with the guy.  A whole day’s wait in the lobby and a birthday gift of Cuban cigars does the trick.  Now the lizard has the fox ensnared in his money-making schemes of deception and pursuits for unlimited greed.

Oliver Stone writes Sheen’s character as virginal when it comes to stock trading.  The kid is dying to get laid with the big boys while getting away from the cold calling hang ups of promising uncertain futures in stocks and bonds.  A subtle and effective angle is to give Bud a mentor.  Hal Holbrook enters the screen from left or right on many occasions to put his hand on Bud’s shoulder and give him his own twist of Confucius philosophy.  Then he exits out of frame towards the opposite direction he enters, leaving Bud to follow the questionable paths that Gordon paves.  Holbrook’s contribution to Wall Street has never been celebrated enough over the years.

Michael Douglas and Charlie Sheen are an outstanding pair of devilish mentorship against innocence lost.  Gekko preaches his passion for wealth on top of more wealth and why nothing should stand in his way, especially the law or the cost of others’ livelihoods.  Bud Fox emulates him as a master of the universe.  Charlie Sheen is great at being the biggest fan in Michael Douglas’ concerts of monologues. Watch how Sheen listens when Douglas has the floor. 

Martin Sheen extends his paternal role to Charlie within Stone’s film.  As Gordon sets designs on taking stock ownership of the small airline company that the father works for, the father/son relationship is tested, and Bud becomes blurred between what is right and wrong.  The Sheens have good debates and heightened dramatic moments.  I wish they were given more to do together though.  Perhaps even showing the wedge of the mother role within this family.

Additionally, Oliver Stone writes dynamics for Bud in a worker relationship with a fellow trader colleague (John C McGinley). There’s a former college pal/now lawyer (James Spader) that Bud tries to squeeze at the behest of Gordon’s demands.  Bud is also covered doing his own tricks of the trade such as dressing as a janitor to dig for what’s forbidden.

Why bring up all of these storylines?  Well, there’s a wealth of great material in Wall Street that’s relevant to the practice of insider trading and corporate overhaul.  Somehow though, Oliver Stone is responsible for writing one of the most unnecessary characters in film history.

Daryl Hannah just had to be cast as the buxom blond love interest for Bud Fox.  She’s never believable as a New York City interior designer and the chemistry between Hannah and Sheen is as thin as water.  Her name is Darien (a 1980s name) and one scene between Michael Douglas and her bustling the streets of Manhattan goes nowhere.  Wall Street is simply not the superb film it could have been because of the amount of time devoted to Daryl Hannah’s character.  Every moment she occupies is cutting room floor material.  When Darien exits the picture she’s never mentioned again.  The history she has with Gordon is never revealed to Bud.  Regrettably, it’s all meaningless.

What’s frustrating with Wall Street is its promise is never fully committed.  The roles awarded to Spader, McGinley, Holbrook and even Saul Rubinek in an early role as Gordon’s nerdy lawyer could have been even more fleshed out in lieu of what is covered with Daryl Hannah’s part.  More moments with Martin and Charlie Sheen would have better served the film.  A competitor tycoon played by Terence Stamp is very interesting and worthy of a larger presence.  Sadly, I imagine a studio producer or even Stone insisted on having a love interest that serves no purpose here except to put a glamorous actress above the title in the credits.  

Nonetheless, Oliver Stone built an authenticity to the hysteria of stock trading and corporate underhandedness.  When he shoots the scenes occupied by Bud and Gordon, he does handheld shaky camera work to emulate that nothing feels sturdy and balanced.  In moments that Bud’s father is at the center, the director shoots with a locked in position, bearing the character’s assured apprehension to trust his son or this prophet of greed.

I especially like the scene where Michael Douglas delivers his famous “Greed…is good!” speech at a shareholders’ annual meeting.  Stone glosses over all the company vice presidents and officers as well as the fat cat suits who carry stakes in the company.  Yet, the filmmaker also takes the time to show that little old lady with the pocketbook who finds her entitled seat to see how the value of her small ownership share is being treated.  Remember, if you own stock like Disney or IBM, you get that invitation in the mail to attend these meetings, and you have just as much a right to attend as all the Gordon Gekkos of the world.

Wall Street serves an important reflection of 1980s capitalism, while taking place in 1985, two years ahead of the infamous market crash of 1987 (the year the film was released).  Guys like Bud Fox had the Charlie Sheen image. Boyish men who got rich quick with little imagination to create and build.  They stood next to tall wealth and learned, but they never gained the knowledge to prepare for quick falls and disheartening sacrifice.  Most importantly, they took their own sense of morale for granted.  These are the best parts of Wall Street.

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.

BLADE RUNNER

By Marc S. Sanders

Ridley Scott’s Blade Runner is a technical and special effects masterpiece…however thin-very thin-its story may be. 

When the film was originally released in 1982, its period setting of November 2019 seemed unimaginable.  So, it was easy to accept that the dystopian future first conceived by author Phillip K. Dick (in his book Do Androids Dream Of Electric Sheep?) could actually happen.  With the Vietnam War behind us, and shopping malls becoming the happening place to be in our Members Only jackets and Jordache jeans with Swatch watches, the 1980s seemed like eternal bliss.  Middle class America felt prosperous and free and comfortable with a President on his way to eight years in office.  Bright pastel and neon colors took over.  A hopeless, dreary future was all but fantasy.  Therefore, just like Star Wars, a gritty, urban Los Angeles seemed like another possibility where science fiction had become as trendy as super hero movies are today.  It was cold and rainy and dirty, but we wanted to see that because that was nowhere near what we were living in, much less envisioning. 

Ridley Scott achieved greatness with visuals never thought possible.  George Lucas might have introduced moviegoers to desert and swamp planets and industrialist Death Stars, but Scott delivered an Earth where Coca-Cola, Pan Am, Atari and Cuisinart still existed amid a dark, rainy Chinatown section of Los Angeles with glowing umbrella handles, flying police cars and cabs, hovering electronic billboards, and exhaust flames that spewed out of the rooftops of cylindrical skyscrapers.  Ridley Scott might have supervised this palette of futuristic film-noir, but the real heroes of Blade Runner belong to its Oscar nominees Lawrence G. Paull, David L. Snyder, and Linda DeScenna for set decoration, as well as Douglas Trumbull (already a legend for 2001: A Space Odyssey), Richard Yuricich and David Dryer for visual effects.  All these years later, there’s much to explore within the appearance of Blade Runner, but the storyline still remains shallower than a puddle of water.

I’ve watched Blade Runner a number of times because fellow peers and colleagues carry such admiration for the film.  I cannot deny the first third of the film holds your attention as you acclimate yourself to this enveloping world.  Once your accustomed however, the story is what has to carry you through to the end, and the journey is as slow moving as a rickshaw on one wheel.  Harrison Ford is Rick Deckard, a blade runner and the best one there is.  Upon learning of an escape of four Replicants from an off-world slave site, Deckard is tasked with coming out of retirement to hunt down these Replicants and “retire” them.  Retire is the polite word for kill, exterminate, slaughter or execute.

A replicant is an android that looks completely human, bleeds like a human and talks like a human.  It’s near impossible to tell the difference on sight between a human and a replicant. As well, replicants are manufactured with four-year life spans and are not permitted on Earth.  They are intended for the sole purpose of slavery towards their human creators.  Yet, what makes them so exemplary or offensive?  What trait do they carry that threatens their human counterparts?  Racism often occurs because of fear derived from skin color or appearance.  Antisemitism will have you believe that Jews have horns growing out of their heads under their yarmulkas.  What is so terribly misconstrued or offensive or threatening about Replicants?  The film never makes clear, and that’s frustrating.  What makes a villain a villain?

M Emmet Walsh comes on early enough to tell us through dialogue that he needs the best of the blade runners back and that’s Deckard.  When I’m to understand that I’m watching the absolute best of something, whether it be a cop, lawyer, baker, student, doctor, painter or blade runner, I want to see what exactly makes them the best.  In Top Gun, I saw the aerial maneuvers that potentially justified why Maverick could be the best of the best fighter pilots.  The problem with Blade Runner and the script, written by Hampton Fancher and David Webb Peoples, is that I never see in its two-hour time span when or how Rick Deckard is such an exceptional blade runner.  How is a blade runner different from an ordinary cop or a simple person with a large gun?  No matter which of the various cuts of the film I’m watching, with or without Harrison Ford’s voiceover narration, I fail to see any outstanding fighting skills or clear thought-provoking intuition.  This guy is neither as good as Dirty Harry or Sherlock Holmes or even James Bond.  He’s not even as personable as Sam Spade, the original noir detective.  Rick Deckard just looks like Harrison Ford with a very large hand gun.  Furthermore, where does the term “Blade Runner” derive from?  Is it just there because it sounds cool?  The moniker wasn’t even created by Philip K. Dick.

The film’s eventual sequel, Blade Runner 2049, is a far superior film.  It’s longer, but it’s much more fleshed out in tone and character and understanding of its setting.  The original film stands on the heels of its cult like legendary status.  Some of the best filmmakers today cite Blade Runner as an influence in how they construct their own movies.  I buy that.  The assembly of whatever cut I’m watching is evident of how mind blowing its appearance is.  You can see some of the blue print visuals that carried over in to Christopher Nolan and Denis Villeneuve’s pictures. But I’m past all that.  Now I need to appreciate what it’s all there for, and who is playing in its yard. 

I cannot simply rely on IMDb trivia and endless social media sites that speculate on whether Deckard is a replicant himself, or why he dreams of a unicorn and why Ridley Scott opted not to include said dream in the original cut.  I cannot just tickle my curiosity with the picture’s eerie foreshadowing of the various product placements that suffered real life eventual downfalls after its release.  Beyond the visuals, what am I watching Blade Runner for?  This is not just a riddle in the Sunday paper.

The film boasts an eclectic cast that work well together.  I just wish they were provided with something much more insightful with background and personal experience.  Rutger Hauer became a familiar name following the release of this picture.  When he’s finally given the opportunity within the second hour of the film to come off as hideous and terrifying and strange, it’s worth looking at.  His famous “tears in the rain” closing dialogue is beautifully poetic, as it was personally written by him.  It’s as ambiguous as the film.  Yet, Shakespeare can be vague too.  I might not understand what anyone is talking about, but the performance can keep my attention.  Regrettably, he does not do much else in the film beyond his closing fight scene with Ford.  Ridley Scott insisted on casting Sean Young as Rachel, as her appearance was reminiscent of Vivian Leigh.  She’s intentionally mysterious as a likely replicant and/or niece of the wealthy creator of the replicants, Dr. Tyrell.  It works, but again, if the viewer is going to be questioned on the mystery of this major character early on, then why doesn’t the film follow further into that enigma?  You don’t have to say for sure, but at least give me evidence to argue one way or the other.  The same goes for the speculation on Deckard.  Had it not been for outside references, I’d never question who or what Deckard really is.  Daryl Hannah, Brion James and Joanna Cassidy round out the rest of the cast/replicants within the film.  Edward James Olmos is here too with a curious and odd habit of making origami.  They all have their unique way or look about them.  In science fiction, every character should stand apart.  Yet, again, it’s all about appearance.  What is the motivation here?  What is the motivation to live on earth or off earth?  What is the motivation to kill a human?  What is the motivation to kill a replicant?

I’ve beaten my head enough over this film.  Blade Runner has always been frustrating to me.  Maybe I’m not being fair to myself, as I try to find something else or some underlying layer each time I watch it.  Why do people love this movie so much?  Why does it consistently appear on “greatest of all time” tabulations?  Ultimately, I’ve come to the conclusion that I’m just pounding sand, or maybe as Rutger Hauer’s Roy Batty suggests, I’m impossibly looking for tears in rain.