Tag: Beau Bridges

The Fabulous Baker Boys (1989, Steve Kloves)

The Fabulous Baker Boys opens with pseudo-protagonist Jeff Bridges saying goodbye to his latest cocktail waitress one-night stand (always his decision, never hers–Baker Boys is all about taking advantage of patriarchal privilege). Under the opening titles, he walks to work. Baker Boys takes place in Seattle and regularly features its skyline, but director Kloves is careful never to show the Space Needle. Much like its characters, the film exists on the edge of reality.

Bridges plays one half of the Fabulous. Beau Bridges play the other. Beau’s the responsible one who has a wife and kids in the suburbs. Jeff is the love-them-and-leave-them, hard-drinking jazz pianist with a heart of gold (he gives Ellie Raab, the tween who lives upstairs, a safe spot when her mom’s got a fellow over). They’ve been playing piano together for thirty-one years, starting as kids, turning it into a profession. They’ve played all over town for years, and they’re getting played out. No one’s going to clubs with pianomen.

After one particularly disheartening experience, Beau decides they’re going to need to have someone along to sing a song. Cue an amusing (albeit unkind) audition sequence, which starts with Jennifer Tilly’s off-key attempt. Baker Boys appreciates having Tilly (she even gets a special end credit), and she’s a lot of fun. She brings the first lightness to the film. While it’s never too dark, it does… wallow in melancholy at times. Tilly shakes up the momentum nicely.

The audition sequence ends with Michelle Pfeiffer, who can sing, and thus becomes the singer, even though she’s a little too brash for Beau’s tastes. She doesn’t even rate a blip on Jeff’s radar initially, but once they all get performing and realize they’ve found a good thing… he takes notice.

There are some fantastic scenes during this portion of the film. There’s a mix of dismay and exuberance–Pfeiffer’s new to the live entertainment business, excited at various potentials. Beau and Jeff have years of experience and are appropriately downtrodden about the whole thing. They think they’ve hit their peak, not realizing Pfeiffer’s contributions will change their lane. Jeff plays most of his scenes silent and sullen. He’s a tortured artisté (no one says he’s the best jazz pianist in the town, but it’s definitely the vibe, and he’s given that up for Beau, who’s just good). But when Pfeiffer and Beau clash, Jeff gets these twinkles in his eyes, and they add up to character development and chemistry.

Lots of Baker Boys is about chemistry. Jeff and Pfeiffer spend a solid portion of the second act circling each other, trying to find an angle where going for it isn’t a mistake. Beau sees what’s going on and tries to stop it. The sequence where he can’t is spectacular, where Kloves shows off he, cinematographer Michael Ballhaus (it’s such a gorgeous photography job, it’s never not stunning), and editor William Steinkamp’s abilities in an entirely new context. They’ve got light drama, light comedy, and sexy but not tawdry lounge singing down, but they can do so much more.

Baker Boys is a character study. It’s a strange one because despite spending the movie with Jeff, it’s not clear until he and Pfeiffer start alternating clashing and crashing; it’s all about him. The character’s distant from everyone; why would the audience be any different.

But Kloves doesn’t let the sub-genre dictate the format. Even as a straight drama–despite the hot and heavy, it’s not a romance or a romantic drama–there’s time for screwball, there’s time for laughs, for smiles. The first act sets up the Baker Boys, but there’s a lot more to say about them, it turns out, right into the third act. After an unevenly paced present action–the film takes place over any number of months, with New Year’s being around the center–the third act is a few days at most.

Because there’s not a lot to wrap up other than everyone acknowledging the state of their situations. One of the problems is the lack of communication (no one ever points out Jeff being smirking, smoking, or sullen is a significant contributor, unfortunately), and the way Kloves layers in those reveals is exquisite. The characters often argue about something the audience doesn’t know about or know how to contextualize, and Kloves has to get the reveals in just right. Even though the audience can’t know (with some exceptions) how things will hit, the film’s got to be ready to situation them on demand. The thing about the arguments and the character turmoils is they’re fast-paced. When Jeff lashes out to hurt people, he does it rapidly, and Kloves makes sure the audience is never behind.

The acting’s outstanding. Jeff really gets to come into it towards the end of the second act, while Beau plays sturdy support. Pfeiffer deserves those effusive “revelation” statements. There’s not really a cast besides them; hence Tilly is making such an impression.

Outstanding technicals, fantastic Dave Grusin score, The Fabulous Baker Boys is, obviously, fabulous, but it’s also a superb achievement from cast and crew. There’s a lot of exceptional work on display here.

This post is part of the It’s In the Name of the Title Blogathon hosted by Gill of Realweegiemidget Reviews and Rebecca of Taking Up Room.

The Explosive Generation (1961, Buzz Kulik)

The Explosive Generation has expert plotting. Joseph Landon’s script; it’s expertly plotted. Even when it high tails it away from the “hook,” it’s still expertly plotted. The film goes from being about teenagers trying to frankly and openly discuss sex in teacher William Shatner’s classroom to being about student protest. The protagonist goes from being good girl Patty McCormack to her initially a jerk boyfriend, Lee Kinsolving.

McCormack is all right.

Kinsolving is horrific. He tries really, really hard too. The movie’s eighty-nine minutes and at least three of the runtime just has to be Kinsolving’s dynamic thinking expressions. He’s always so perplexed.

Maybe if director Kulik helped with the performances, but he doesn’t have time for the actors. He’s too busy butchering everything else.

Explosive Generation is an ugly, cheap picture. Floyd Crosby’s photography is bad. Hal Borne’s music is bad. Kulik’s composition and sense of timing are a nightmare. When the film does have its moments, it’s a shock; those moments succeed just because Landon’s plotting is so strong and his flat expository dialogue just happens to sync with the actor performing it.

Those actors are usually Shatner (though his performance falls apart as he becomes an unwilling martyr), McCormack, maybe Suzi Carnell–more on her in a bit–and sometimes Edward Platt. Oh, and sometimes single dad Stephen Dunne, who just wants to look cool to son Billy Gray. Gray’s never good but he’s a lot better than Kinsolving.

Again, who knows how it would’ve gone if the direction were a micron better. The film’s got some bad sets for home interiors, but the location exteriors are fine and it does shoot in a high school. Or some kind of school. Composition and lighting can do wonders. Kulik and photographer Crosby exhibit a striking inability to do wonders.

When the movie starts, it’s about teens McCormack, Kinsolving, Carnell, and Gray having a sleepover at Gray’s dad’s beach house. After some terribly cut together and scored opening titles–everyone involved in Explosive’s post-production seems to think having bland boppy “jazz” is going to make the film seem edgy. It leads to opening titles setting a bad tone. But then it’s Carnell talking McCormack into spending the night. Gray bullies and teases McCormack to get her to stay (for Kinsolving’s sake).

Well, then the movie cuts to the next morning and McCormack seems upset but Carnell’s having a full breakdown. Explosive drops Carnell as a character about ten minutes later, though it later blames her for snitching. It’s weird and about the only weak plotting decision Landon makes.

At some point, the movie becomes about Kinsolving trying to save Shatner’s job for him and discovering even though the school’s full of bland, upper middle class Southern California white kids, they have the right to intellectual curiosity.

The film entirely cops out on resolving the issues with the controlling parents. McCormack’s dad, Arch Johnson, gets to do a big meltdown and then disappears. Virginia Field, as mom, does something similar but then returns as a deus ex machina, because it turns out she’s just a person too.

Landon plots well. He doesn’t write well. Explosive Generation shows just how big wide the gap is between the two. The film has a great set piece at the end, which Kulik couldn’t direct even if he had the budget to stage it, but it’s a fantastic idea. The film’s got a few of them. Ideas but no potential because it’s so poorly made.

Crosby’s cinematography is so bad, so flat, one wishes for a computer colorized version just to break up the same shade of school hallway gray. It infests the pallette.

Despite being an audiovisual blight on the medium of film, The Explosive Generation is a heavily qualified “success.” So qualified it needs quotation marks, in fact. But thanks to Landon’s plotting, Shatner and McCormack’s likability, and its earnestess, the film compells.

1/4★

CREDITS

Directed by Buzz Kulik; written by Joseph Landon; director of photography, Floyd Crosby; edited by Melvin Shapiro; music by Hal Borne; produced by Stanley Colbert; released by United Artists.

Starring Patty McCormack (Janet Sommers), Lee Kinsolving (Dan Carlyle), Billy Gray (Bobby Herman Jr.), William Shatner (Peter Gifford), Suzi Carnell (Marge Ryker), Edward Platt (Mr. Morton), Stephen Dunne (Bobby Herman Sr.), Phillip Terry (Mr. Carlyle), Arch Johnson (Mr. George Sommers), Jan Norris (Terry), Beau Bridges (Mark), and Virginia Field (Mrs. Katie Sommers).

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