Michael Hayes (1997) s01e12 – Mob Mentality

An episode after I list Anne Kenney as one of the show’s reliable writers, she turns in this whiff of an episode. Obviously it’s not all her fault—there are multi-episode stories and Helen Slater’s guest star arc in play—but even taking those elements out… there’s a lot of problems. Actually, the Slater stuff—while disappointing—isn’t even the big problem (with the episode, the series’s momentum is another thing).

The big problem is the A plot trial, which has Rebecca Rigg and Hillary Danner trying Black man Perry Moore for inciting a fellow rioter to kill a couple Jewish guys; there’s a riot because it’s that story about the rabbi running over a little Black girl and driving away. There was a “Law & Order” about it too.

It’s very weird and hopefully was just as weird at the time, because the episode’s all about how white people are justifiably scared of Black people—specifically Ruben Santiago-Hudson—and how it turns out they’re justified. Also Black people aren’t at all interested in being truthful, so there’s another of Kenney’s big flexes. It’s the two white women—Rigg and Danner—who get the moral authority here, because even though he’s only around to observe and call them “ladies” in a seemingly unintentional but actual patronizing way, Caruso’s in Santiago-Hudson’s court. He too cares more about the dead Black girl, which Rigg and Danner are completely indifferent about.

The acting’s all fine. Nice John Capodice cameo as the judge. Jason Blicker is good as the Hassidic guy who survived the attack (his friend did not). Rigg’s good. She’s playing a bigot and everyone seems fine with it but whatever. She’s very believable at it. Santiago-Hudson has to absolve her of her bigotry at one point, which is a heck of a shitty scene. Additionally, Kenney doesn’t even have Rigg and Danner pass Bechdel?

The episode pays lip service to trying to responsibility navigate the “controversy” in the first few scenes, but it ends up being a bunch of whataboutery and specious equivalences. It’s a bummer.

Also a bummer is the court scene, where Rigg is facing off against guest star George Wyner as the defense attorney. Wyner always seems like he should be better. He’s fine—the episode’s got a bunch of good guest stars, including Richard Foronjy and Walter Olkewicz—but doesn’t get enough to do.

The cliffhanger from last episode doesn’t get addressed either; Caruso is too busy being obsessed about something else from last episode. It seemed like the show was going to do character development. Only instead it throws the character development in reverse in order to gin up some sensationalism.

It’s a bummer. The episode is a definite bummer. Especially since it brings up unconscious bias in the narrative; it’s a profoundly unaware script and puts Kenney on the bottom of the list of regular writers. Usually when the show’s tepid, it’s because it’s trying too hard to be macho, not literally being a Karen.

Good performance from Peter Outerbridge, who’s got a short but relevant subplot this episode after being office scenery for most of the series so far.

Michael Hayes (1997) s01e11 – Retribution

In addition to the omnipresent Christmas theme, the episode also showcases a bunch of new second unit location shooting of New York—including, possibly, even David Caruso and guest star Helen Slater on location there. Maybe they filled in somewhere else. It’s fairly convincing, especially since every other time there’s a suggested street scene it doesn’t happen, instead cutting right to interiors.

The Christmas stuff—decorations everywhere, constant diegetic and non-diegetic sound—is a little much until the episode resolution, where it becomes a wonderful, reassuring, albeit depressing cushion for the action. It’s a different kind of episode—Gardner Stern gets solo writing credit—because for the first time, Caruso’s got an equal. Slater’s an assistant district attorney who he wants to swap cases with so he can get mob boss Seth Jaffe, but they have a dating history. We’ve rarely gotten to see Caruso as outwardly self-reflective as in this episode and even then… not to this degree. It initially seems like they’re spinning their wheels with Slater’s presence in the plot, but it really works out by the end.

The A plot is the Jaffe case, which has first Castulo Guerra wearing a wire, then Richard C. Sarafian. It’s a decent guest star turn for Sarafian. It’s not too deep a role, he’s playing a caricature (even after some character reveals), but it’s decent. Slater overshadows him—the episode’s got a bunch of guest stars, including Gregg Henry hanging out to talk Caruso’s permanent appointment to his U.S. Attorney job, which barely gets any attention—and it feels imbalanced until the end.

But the supporting regulars—Ruben Santiago-Hudson, Rebecca Rigg, Peter Outerbridge—they all do the A plot. The B plot is Hillary Danner’s ableist, classist arc about a wanna-be cult leader (Sherman Howard) who uses religious freedom to con women into prostitution. Sincerely held religious belief after all. It’s a bad subplot, however, because Stern’s script is shitty to the victims—Jenna Byrne and Michelle Beaudoin, who it presents as too stupid or too uneducated to realize Howard’s exploiting them. Part of the plot is Danner getting called on the classism, but it doesn’t add up to anything. Maybe there’s a disconnect between Stern’s script, Danner, and Fred Gerber’s direction, maybe it’s just a bad story arc.

Lots of good acting from Caruso, who’s on display—Slater is convinced there’s something behind the choir boy and seems to have the receipts, whereas everyone else in the show just gets the choir boy. Drawing attention to the lack of projected personality—the show even opens with Henry trying to get Caruso to make a statement on personal beliefs about abortion and gets shut down with a “it’s the law” (Caruso as old man Rorschach as Judge Dredd, though one assumes his “CSI: Miami” money keeps him having to work)—it just ends up showing, thanks to Slater’s subtle influence on their scenes, the humanity in the performance.

It’s good. The episode seems like a bit of a misfire throughout—none of the problems of a John Romano episode, but also not the heights of a Haggis or Anne Keanney one—but the end really delivers.

Hopefully they’re able to keep Slater around.

Supergirl (1984, Jeannot Szwarc), the director’s cut

Supergirl never really had a chance. The Superman-inspired opening credits lack any grandeur, ditto with Jerry Goldsmith’s lame music. Goldsmith improves somewhat throughout, but the lack of a catchy theme song hurts the film.

The film has a few things going for it, however, including Helen Slater in the lead and Szwarc’s direction. A handful of scenes are quite good, hinting at what a better script might have been able to embrace. Unfortunately, David Odell’s script is moronic. He doesn’t just give Supergirl a dumb villain (Faye Dunaway must have been really desperate for work), he doesn’t even give Slater a story arc. There are hints at one–when Slater gets to Earth, she’s finally smarter. The opening (with Mia Farrow and Simon Ward looking embarrassed as Slater’s parents) suggest she’s kind of slow, or at least unfocused.

The trip to Earth, the film can’t help but implying, matures her.

There are also some excellent special effects. Even when the effects don’t work, it isn’t because they’re not competent, it’s because it’s a dumb idea. Dunaway’s an evil witch. It’s a flying superhero versus a witch. There isn’t a lot of room for good action set pieces with that scenario.

Other than Slater, the best performance is probably Hart Bochner as her love interest. He’s not good, just not terrible. I suppose Peter Cook is only embarrassing himself, not bad. Brenda Vaccaro, Jeff to Dunaway’s Mutt, is atrocious.

Slater’s performance deserves a better film. It’s unfortunate Supergirl doesn’t deliver.

A House in the Hills (1993, Ken Wiederhorn)

A House in the Hills is, for the majority of its running time, pretty darn funny. It’s a romance novel run through a black comedy filter, with Helen Slater playing the lead. The film takes place in LA; Slater’s an actress and ends up being the one character the film never actually explains. It’s one of the many surprisingly subtle nuances to the script.

The mysterious stranger is Michael Madsen, who gives one of his best performances, who breaks into the house where she’s housesitting. In some ways, the script could be a play—it’s mostly the two of them sitting around for forty or fifty minutes, but there are these little comic moments, even when Slater’s ostensibly in danger.

It turns out, of course, there’s more than meets the eye to the situation they both find themselves in. One of the great parts of director Wiederhorn and Miguel Tejada-Flores’s script is how they get more and more backstory into the film as the action progresses.

As a director, Wiederhorn gets how to balance the humor and the reality of Slater’s character. The first ten minutes are excellent working actor moments. Richard Einhorn’s score, revealing the comedy, helps the film immeasurably.

The supporting cast—Jeffrey Tambor, James Laurenson and Elyssa Davalos—is strong, but Hills really depends on Slater and, to a lesser degree, Madsen. While they’re both good, she’s the essential component. She makes the role—able to be flustered but still calculating—believable.

It’s a smart comedy.

2.5/4★★½

CREDITS

Directed by Ken Wiederhorn; written by Wiederhorn and Miguel Tejada-Flores; director of photography, Josep M. Civit; edited by Peter Teschner; music by Richard Einhorn; production designer, Morley Smith; produced by Wiederhorn and Patricia Foulkrod; released by Live Entertainment.

Starring Michael Madsen (Mickey), Helen Slater (Alex Weaver), Jeffrey Tambor (Willie), James Laurenson (Ronald Rankin), Elyssa Davalos (Sondra Rankin), Taylor Lee (Patty Neubauer) and Toni Barry (Susie).


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City Slickers (1991, Ron Underwood)

City Slickers is a mid-life crisis comedy. I had forgotten about that aspect of it. All three principals–Billy Crystal, Bruno Kirby and Daniel Stern–start the movie in a funk. Well, actually only Crystal. The other two’s problems reveal themselves throughout. Especially Kirby. His backstory takes so long to reveal, it strains believability. It’s not believable his friends would know so little about him.

Anyway, in order for the movie to work, it has to be believable these problems will work themselves out at the end and the trio will be able to happily get on with their lives. It’s a comedy after all.

Except it’s not really about the three of them, it’s about Crystal. So if Crystal’s problem can work itself out… the movie works itself out.

And, within the constraints of the film, it does work. Underwood is able to sell it. It doesn’t make up for the dragging parts of the film, but it does make it work. In fact, it’s a somewhat strange resolution. It’s not subtle, though they never verbalize it; verbalizing it would make Crystal’s character a little… unlikable actually.

Underwood does a good job except when he’s repeatedly zooming in for effect. It just doesn’t work.

Crystal, Kirby and Stern are all good. Crystal gets better when he’s dramatic. Jack Palance and Crystal are great together. The supporting cast in general is strong.

Marc Shaiman’s music is a weak spot.

City Slickers has its ups and downs but it’s fine.

2/4★★

CREDITS

Directed by Ron Underwood; written by Lowell Ganz and Babaloo Mandel; director of photography, Dean Semler; edited by O. Nicholas Brown; music by Marc Shaiman; production designer, Lawrence G. Paull; produced by Irby Smith; released by Columbia Pictures.

Starring Billy Crystal (Mitch Robbins), Daniel Stern (Phil Berquist), Bruno Kirby (Ed Furillo), Patricia Wettig (Barbara Robbins), Helen Slater (Bonnie Rayburn), Jack Palance (Curly Washburn), Noble Willingham (Clay Stone), Tracey Walter (Cookie), Josh Mostel (Barry Shalowitz), David Paymer (Ira Shalowitz), Bill Henderson (Dr. Ben Jessup), Jeffrey Tambor (Lou), Phill Lewis (Dr. Steven Jessup), Kyle Secor (Jeff), Dean Hallo (T.R.), Karla Tamburrelli (Arlene Berquist) and Yeardley Smith (Nancy).


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Supergirl (2005) #50

Sg50

Yay, Igle’s back. And he’s back for an issue where Gates gets around to doing everything.

Unfortunately, Superwoman and Sam Lane are back too. Apparently one can never get rid of Johns’s worst ideas for the Superman line of books. There’s a great moment where it seems like Lane might dissect his daughter. Then he doesn’t.

But the rest of the issue, featuring the return of the Insect Queen (Lana Lang) and Supergirl defeating her, is good. There’s even some Supergirl knows science stuff, which Gates doesn’t make a big deal about.

The end is pretty sad though. Supergirl abandons a recovered Lana because she doesn’t like the way human families work. It’s a great scene, great art from Igle, but a downer.

Then there’s a backup from Black and Slater, basically doing a little recap of Supergirl’s history. It’s got Cliff Chiang artwork so it’s beautiful.

Overall, excellent issue.

Ruthless People (1986, Jim Abrahams, David Zucker and Jerry Zucker)

Clocking in at a whopping ninety minutes, Ruthless People feels a tad undercooked. Lots of trailer-ready sequences, lots of memorable moments, nothing to really connect them. The ZAZ directing team (it’s probably been sixteen years since I’ve thought about them) is adequate, but they don’t really direct actors very well here, so the casting goes a long way (Bill Pullman suffers the most, having the easiest character to play and most of his scenes fall flat).

Danny DeVito is great–turning in a performance so good I thought about renting Twins–but he’s not really getting any help from the directors and the script just plays him as a jerk, so DeVito isn’t really doing anything very difficult. Weight loss figures greatly in to the story–it saves kidnappers Helen Slater and Judge Reinhold from doing jail time–as Bette Midler loses twenty pounds in four days and has the Stockholm syndrome going in full effect.

The movie’s mostly missed opportunities–not counting the cartoon relationship between DeVito and Midler, which is mostly implied–particularly Reinhold and Slater’s touching love story… also implied. They’re the down-on-their-luck young couple who made a big mistake and haven’t been able to recover. There’s a lot of possibility (especially with a Michel Colombier score), but it doesn’t go anywhere.

Thanks to all the problems–the directors and the writer (I have no idea if the abbreviated storytelling is the script or the direction, but it’s unfair to put it all on the directors)–the most amusing parts of Ruthless People are the two cops, played by Art Evans and Clarence Felder, who are enduring all the defects along with the audience. A mix approach–the kidnappers, the cops, the husband–required traditional storytelling in Ruthless People….

Instead, the directors just made an unfilling mess.