Category: Directed by Richard Benjamin

The Money Pit (1986, Richard Benjamin)

Without any subplots–and a running time, sans end credits, less than ninety minutes–it seems likely The Money Pit had some post-production issues. There are a bunch of recognizable character actors–Josh Mostel, Yakov Smirnoff, Joe Mantegna–who show up for a scene or two then disappear. Still, Money Pit is a great example of a (possibly) problematic production working out rather well.

Most of the film belongs to Tom Hanks. While Shelley Long’s along (sorry) for the ride, she doesn’t have much to do until the halfway point. She’s the straight woman to Hanks, who gets to do a lot of physical comedy as they watch their house fall down around them. Often in hilarious scenes.

Long does get the film’s single subplot, involving her ex-husband Alexander Godunov. Besides Hanks giving a great comedic performance, Money Pit is singular because of Godunov. He’s perfect as a self-aware egomaniac. Even when he’s loathsome, he’s likable, a feature the film references a little too much.

There are some great lines in David Giler’s script, though they eventually give way to all physical comedy. Director Benjamin handles both perfectly fine, but he and cinematographer Gordon Willis really excel at the latter. Sadly, editor Jacqueline Cambas besmirches the otherwise fine work of the crew. From the first few scenes, it’s clear Cambas can’t cut a scene well.

The Money Pit sometimes stumbles, but when it’s funny, it’s exceedingly funny. And it’s got an excellent resolution sequence at the finish.

2.5/4★★½

CREDITS

Directed by Richard Benjamin; written by David Giler; director of photography, Gordon Willis; edited by Jacqueline Cambas; music by Michel Colombier; production designer, Patrizia von Brandenstein; produced by Kathleen Kennedy, Frank Marshall and Art Levinson; released by Universal Pictures.

Starring Tom Hanks (Walter Fielding Jr.), Shelley Long (Anna Crowley), Alexander Godunov (Max Beissart, the Maestro), Maureen Stapleton (Estelle), Joe Mantegna (Art Shirk), Philip Bosco (Curly), Josh Mostel (Jack Schnittman), Yakov Smirnoff (Shatov), Carmine Caridi (Brad Shirk), Tetchie Agbayani (Florinda Fielding) and Douglass Watson (Walter Fielding Sr.).

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The Pentagon Wars (1998, Richard Benjamin)

I can’t remember why I queued The Pentagon Wars. When it started, I kept waiting for the writing credits because I figured it must have been for the writers (it wasn’t). The Pentagon Wars chronicles a colonel’s efforts to get the Pentagon to responsibly develop an armored personnel carrier. It’s also an absurdist comedy. Kelsey Grammer’s the bad guy, the general who can’t answer a straight question and is just waiting for his cushy defense industry job post-retirement. The film alternates between being laugh out-loud funny (Grammer’s fantastic) and depressing. The military-industrial complex shouldn’t be a surprise to anyone and the film actually skirts over that issue quite a bit. Instead, it concentrates on just how much the Pentagon brass is willing to sacrifice troop safety for fashionable accouterments.

The Pentagon Wars was an HBO movie (produced by Jersey Films, which explains some of the quality) and director Richard Benjamin never quite makes it anything more than a televised film. There’s no real character development, no real character arcs, no real character relationships. There’s a bunch of good acting–Grammer, Richard Schiff, John C. McGinley, and Tom Wright (actually, Benjamin’s fine in his cameo too)–and the film’s scenically constructed to allow these actors to amuse. As the straight man, Cary Elwes gives his standard wooden performance. While the script doesn’t involve itself too much with the depth of Elwes’s character, he’s still entirely incapable of giving it any. That arrangement works out, because no matter how many times Elwes fails, the film isn’t requiring him to do anything.

The film, though it never actually quite earns that descriptor, manages to endear itself (mostly due to Benjamin’s amiable handling and the performances). Watching the film–even appreciating it and its humor and its successes (it’s a safe quirky)–I kept wanting it to take itself seriously, as its subject is not a particularly frivolous one. When the seriousness finally did arrive, it came too late–and then the film called upon Elwes… and he couldn’t handle it (surprise, surprise). Still, the attempt was enough to hinder the experience.