Tag: Tim Thomerson

The Flash (1990, Robert Iscove)

As a pilot movie, The Flash is a success. It establishes its regular cast—John Wesley Shipp, Amanda Pays, Alex Désert, Paula Marshall (who wasn’t back, but sure seemed like she would be)—and doing an admirable, post-Burton Batman live-action superhero. Danny Elfman even contributes the theme, while composer Shirley Walker keeps the rest in Elfmanesque line.

There are also some solid guest stars—Tim Thomerson and Priscilla Pointer—and some okay ones—M. Emmet Walsh (he’s just barely putting in any effort) and Lycia Naff. No superhero (even TV) movie can be without a villain, which is where The Flash shows its age. Michael Nader plays the villain, an ex-cop who escaped prison when arrested for highway robbery and recruited the city’s unhoused twentysomethings into a motorcycle gang. They’re the “Dark Riders,” which the movie pretends is a scary name. A few times, it seems like they changed something with The Flash–including the Dark Riders having a blood spot on their jackets–and it seems like that name came in late. Like, Shipp’s supposedly watching the news about them and grinning, even though it’s during his dark arc.

Shipp’s a crime lab scientist in the days before “CSI” made it popular. Big brother Thomerson is the city super cop, and dad Walsh used to be on the beat (mom Pointer had Shipp promise to stay in a safe job)–the first act’s about Shipp’s resentment about not being a real cop. The third act will be his “with great power comes great responsibility” arc, recovering from the death of a loved one, which motivates him to seek revenge against the villains.

He was trying to solve the case anyway because he wanted to show Walsh he could do it and to help out Thomerson. The Flash is copaganda by default, but the cops can’t keep up with the villains—even if they’re just seventies exploitation baddies done with a budget and “90210” extras—so they need a superhero to help them out. Luckily, Shipp just happens to have been struck by lightning and doused in various chemicals–the result: super speed.

Shipp’s super speed discovery subplot is a lot of fun—Shipp’s got a dog to play off, which gives the pilot a surprising amount of texture—and the pilot leans into the wonderment value for a while. Shipp’s got to team up with Star Labs scientist Pays (they’re the local super-lab, the one with the government contracts and super soldier programs) to figure out his new powers and, even though he’s dating Marshall and Pays is a tragic widow, they have some chemistry from go.

The movie’s third act, when it’s all about Shipp exacting his suitable-for-prime-time vengeance on the bad guys, is where The Flash gets lost in the fog. It’s trying not to be too mean—giving Shipp one-liners, for instance—but it doesn’t want to take any time giving them characterization. Especially not in case it makes them sympathetic. It’s cruel about its callousness, though the pilot does okay rendering cartoon villains in live-action.

In addition to the Batman ‘89 vibes, The Flash lifts a bunch from Robocop, including the police uniforms. The Flash cops are just missing the helmets, really. Though I guess only the motorcycle squad, who goes after Nader. The Flash doesn’t have any great motorcycle scenes. There are a bunch of places it feels like they skip around for budgetary reasons. Like Nader’s reign of terror. The opening scene establishes the streets aren’t safe, but then Shipp’s superpower discovery arc is full of nice restaurants and lovely parks. It’s apparently not unsafe until dark, at which point it becomes a hellhole.

Shipp works better in the brighter sections. He’s only got a handful of dramatic scenes, and he does okay with most of them. Not really the most important one, but it’s also a rough scene, thanks to the costars. Shipp handles it adequately. Some of the problem is writers Danny Bilson and Paul De Meo don’t know how to end the pilot. Or, if they do, it’s way too rushed.

The special effects are excellent for TV. More impressive is the production design, which has many art deco touches but also very late eighties modern designs. The sets are always interesting to see; it’s inviting. It works out very well (Dean Edward Mitzer did the production design, Jeannie Gunn decorated sets, and an uncredited Hugo Santiago was on art direction, which is a lot—the murals are gorgeous). Good photography from Sandi Sissel, and good editing from Frank E. Jimenez. At first, it seems like Jimenez has problems cutting conversations, but then it becomes clear director Iscove wasn’t getting the coverage. Iscove’s direction hurts Walsh’s performance the most.

Biff Manard and Vito D'Ambrosio are a hoot as the Mutt and Jeff cops (they continue into the show).

The Flash finishes with a promise for more but isn’t specific about what more will be, other than Shipp in a red suit, running fast, Pays nagging him to think about his limitations, Désert being the charming straight-man sidekick, and Marshall… well, Marshall’s apparently just going to moon over Shipp. Based on how little Marshall got to do in the third act versus the first, maybe they adjusted since they knew she wasn’t back.

Shipp’s a good lead, and Pays—who keeps very busy onscreen even when she doesn’t get material, which makes the character immediately distinctive—is a good confidante. Bumps aside—thankfully, no lags—The Flash sets the show up quite well. Next week, same Flash time, same Flash channel.

This post is part of the 9th Annual Favourite TV Show Episode Blogathon hosted by Terence Towles Canote of A Shroud of Thoughts.

The Incredible Hulk Returns (1988, Nicholas Corea)

The Incredible Hulk Returns is severely lacking. It’s severely lacking pretty much everything. Despite being set in and filmed in Los Angeles, the movie looks generic and constrained–director Corea has a truly exceptional aversion to establishing shots. The interior shots often have a different visual feel. More like video (Returns was shot on film, but edited on video). The video feel makes everything seem more immediate. But the last thing Returns has is immediacy. It lacks an immediacy, even though it’s incredibly dramatic.

No pun.

The movie’s set an indeterminate time since the TV series ended, but two years since Bill Bixby has turned into Lou Ferrigno. He’s in L.A. making a gamma ray to cure himself and romancing fellow scientist Lee Purcell. Despite a not too big thirteen year age difference, Bixby and Purcell lack chemistry. They’re not bad together, they just don’t seem into one another. The script tries too hard to make them cute and they’re not. The dialogue’s real bad on their romance too. There’s a lack of affection, even implied.

It doesn’t really matter because Purcell’s not important. She even gets kidnapped at one point and manages not to be important. The movie willfully ignores her. Because after the first act, it becomes a pilot for a “Thor” TV show and not really a Hulk TV movie.

Bixby’s about to cure himself when annoying rogue nerdy but late eighties nerdy cool doctor (medical doctor… sure, why not) Steve Levitt shows up. Seems Levitt’s gone and found himself an ancient Viking war hammer and become bound to giant, buff, blond Viking warrior god Eric Allan Kramer. Pretty soon Kramer is fighting Ferrigno and they break the lab, causing a big problem for Bixby.

Except not because they just fix up the lab, much to the chagrin of Bixby’s boss’s little brother, Jay Baker. Baker works his ass off in The Incredible Hulk Returns. He takes this movie really, really seriously. More seriously than anyone else, including Charles Napier playing a Cajun mercenary without a Cajun accent but TV Cajun speech patterns. It’s painful. Anyway. Baker. He tries. He’s also a corrupt little shit who hates his older brother John Gabriel. Baker doesn’t like Bixby much either. Or Levitt. They work too hard. Not really a subplot, but it comes up a couple times and it’s a lot of character development for Returns. Baker goes wild with it.

The movie utterly fails him, of course, but he does try. No one else really tries. Tim Thomerson doesn’t try as the villain. He’s also a Cajun but he’s ashamed of it. Or so Napier implies. Because Corea’s script for Returns puts more effort into the back story on the industrial mercenaries than on its lead female actor. Oh, wait. It’s only female actor. Purcell manages to weather Returns with dignity. Maybe having less to do helps.

Bixby’s completely flat throughout. He’s default likable, but never anything more. He’s not bored or condescending to the material or anything. He’s just completely flat. He’s supposed to have figured out some zen thing to control the Hulk but still. A lot of it is probably the script. Or Correa’s direction. Neither succeed at all.

Regarding Baker and his valiant efforts in his role–he’s not auditioning for a series. Levitt and Kramer would be the leads on the “Thor” show and, although Kramer does try, he doesn’t try as hard. And Levitt is exceptionally bland. Again, some of it’s the script. Some isn’t.

Kramer at least has fun. But his character is supposed to enjoy having fun. No one else in the movie enjoys anything. Not even Ferringo enjoys breaking things. Then again Correa kind of gives Ferringo the worst stuff in the movie. Not just the script or how Correa directs him–though I guess Ferrigno does get a couple spotlight action sequences–but also the make-up. When Ferrigno needs to do “Hulk sad,” he can do it. Shame Correa only has him emote twice in the movie.

Jack Colvin (from the “Hulk” TV show) comes back too. He’s barely got a part and spends a lot of his screen time talking on phones. He’s not good but he’s not terrible.

The music from Lance Rubin needs to be heard to be believed. At least for the first thirty or so minutes. Then there’s less or different music, but Rubin’s action sequence music? It’s loud, fast, layed, and terrible. There’s one good bit of music–when not using the show theme–and it’s a shock, because it suggests Rubin can do different approaches. He actually can’t. The good bit was anomalous.

The Chuck Colwell photography is bad. But is it because Colwell’s work is bad or because Correa doesn’t really do the whole shot composition thing. Either way, the result is bad. The movie never looks right. Or good. Unlike some things, the bad photography is quite bad. It isn’t just not good. It’s bad.

I suppose at the very least, The Incredible Hulk Returns is never boring. It’s just never good. And it’s often bad. Correa does a rather poor job, both at the directing and the writing.

Trancers 5: Sudden Deth (1994, David Nutter)

There are no good parts to Trancers 5: Sudden Deth. The best parts, however, are when you forget you’re watching an actual motion picture–or even a direct-to-video release on a name label–and think you’re instead watching some terrible fantasy movie shot by the staff of a renaissance fair. At one point there’s a magic map and it looks like an eight year-old’s treasure map to their Halloween candy (hidden under their bed). It’s ludicrous. Not in an endearing way, but definitely in a way slightly more amusing than anything else going on in Trancers 5. Because Trancers 5 is really, really bad.

Tim Thomerson escapes as unscathed as humanly possible. He doesn’t have a single good line in the entire movie, not a single good moment because Nutter’s direction is so lame and Peter David’s script is so weak; he never embarrasses himself further than the inherent embarrassment of being involved with such a production.

Almost every other performance is horrific. Clabe Hartley, Ty Miller, Terri Ivens. They’re all awful. Mark Arnold is awful in a different way; he tries and fails. No one else tries.

The story has Thomerson and Miller going to a haunted castle to get a time diamond to send Thomerson back home. It’s occasionally a lot like a tone-deaf, terrible Army of Darkness knock-off. The plotting is dumb. Just about halfway through, it gets a lot worse as Miller gets the first of his many “I’m an energy vampire but I’m okay” speeches. Bad writing, bad directing, bad acting. Thomerson gets credit for not rolling his eyes in the two shots during these deliveries.

The boringness of Trancers 5–the relentless lameness throughout–is the worst part. It opens with too long opening titles, then a seven minute recap of the previous film (poorly narrated by Arnold). Then it’s only like an hour of actual movie and every minute of it is lame.

Also lame are Adolfo Bartoli’s photography and Gary Fry’s music.

Trancers 5 is dreadful.

0/4ⓏⒺⓇⓄ

CREDITS

Directed by David Nutter; screenplay by Peter David, based on characters created by Danny Bilson and Paul De Meo; director of photography, Adolfo Bartoli; edited by Lisa Bromwell; music by Gary Fry; production designer, Mircea-Dudus Neagu; produced by Michael Catalano, Oana Paunescu and Vlad Paunescu; released by Paramount Home Video.

Starring Tim Thomerson (Jack Deth), Ty Miller (Prospero), Terri Ivens (Shaleen), Clabe Hartley (Lord Caliban), Stacie Randall (Lyra), Mark Arnold (Lucius), Jeff Moldovan (Harson) and Stephen Macht (Harris).

RELATED

Rhinestone (1984, Bob Clark)

With the exception of Dolly Parton, everyone involved with Rhinestone seems nervous. Well, maybe not Richard Farnsworth. He seems impatient, like he can’t wait for his scene to be over. Top-billed Sylvester Stallone spends the first half of the film trying too hard, seems to relax, then finishes the film not trying hard enough. It’s like Stallone resents the stupid stuff he’s got to do but then he’s no good at the serious stuff either. Sure, he’s got terrible dialogue, which he wrote for himself (along with whatever remains of Phil Alden Robinson’s original script), but he’s still not acting well. He’s acting poorly.

When does he act well? During the ten or fifteen minutes when he’s a greased up romantic lead in some weirdly racy, somewhat wholesome perfume commercial with Parton. The film looks different too, like director Clark and cinematographer Timothy Galfas were just pretending to be wholly incompetent and they were really just pacing out this eventual payoff. Sadly, editors Stan Cole and John W. Wheeler don’t improve during this section of the film. They’re bad throughout.

While Parton isn’t good–it’s not possible to be good in Rhinestone–she’s earnest and she’s capable. She takes her job seriously, which is probably why her original songs for the film are good. Rhinestone should, frighteningly, be better. Even with Stallone, it should be better. The movie isn’t Rocky with country music, it’s Stallone doing a “Barbarino” impression with country music. If it were Rocky with country music, it’d be a lot better.

The problem is the tone. Clark wants to take it seriously. He wants to take Stallone as a country western star who dresses in an incredibly lame silver sequined cowboy outfit. Sylvester Stallone as a successful country western star is not possible. It’s just not. More idiotically, the film itself doesn’t take that idea seriously.

There’s one music number I resent myself for liking and Tim Thomerson’s amusing, though not good (he’s nervous but trying to get past it). Parton’s got a lot of presence and she and Stallone actually have what appears to be chemistry, if a lot more platonic than the narrative requires, but it’s not like she makes it worthwhile. She just doesn’t embarrass herself. Everyone else embarrasses themselves at some point or another.

0/4ⓏⒺⓇⓄ

CREDITS

Directed by Bob Clark; screenplay by Phil Alden Robinson and Sylvester Stallone, based on a story by Robinson; director of photography, Timothy Galfas; edited by Stan Cole and John W. Wheeler; music by Dolly Parton and Mike Post; production designer, Robert F. Boyle; produced by Howard Smith and Marvin Worth; released by 20th Century Fox.

Starring Dolly Parton (Jake), Sylvester Stallone (Nick), Tim Thomerson (Barnett Kale), Richard Farnsworth (Mr. Farris), Steve Peck (Mr. Martinelli), Penny Santon (Mrs. Martinelli) and Ron Leibman (Freddie Ugo).

RELATED

Trancers: City of Lost Angels (1988, Charles Band)

Tracers: City of Lost Angels was originally intended to be part of an anthology film but it doesn’t feel much like a short subject. With the obviously limited budget, director Band treats it like a television production more than a film. Most of the action plays out in one or two of the sets. It’s all very constrained.

It’s also rather intelligently handled. Without any budget, the story mostly involves Tim Thomerson’s problems with girlfriend Helen Hunt. He’s from the future, living in his ancestor’s body, she has to be the breadwinner–it’s a difficult situation all around. Thomerson and Hunt (who’s basically just cameoing) are both wonderful. Writers Paul De Meo and Danny Bilson frequently surprise with the character developments.

Lost Angels is a fine effort. The sincerity and the concept–spoofing hard-boiled detectives, but without drawing too much attention to the absurdities–work out surprisingly well (awkward plotting aside, of course).

2/3Recommended

CREDITS

Produced and directed by Charles Band; written by Paul De Meo and Danny Bilson; director of photography, Mac Ahlberg; music by Mark Ryder and Phil Davies; production designer, Giovanni Natalucci; released by Full Moon Features.

Starring Tim Thomerson (Jack Deth), Helen Hunt (Leena), Art LaFleur (McNulty), Telma Hopkins (Engineer Raines), Alyson Croft (Baby McNulty), Grace Zabriskie (Warden) and Velvet Rhodes (Edlin Shock).

RELATED

Dollman (1991, Albert Pyun)

Wow, I’ve never written about an Albert Pyun movie for the Stop Button? I hadn’t realized how lucky I’ve been over the last five years not to see one. Actually, I don’t know if I’ve ever seen a Pyun movie as an adult.

Dollman went straight to video. Some of it looks like it might have been shot on video too, really bad video, but it’s not like good film stock was going fix this one.

The film sort of defies description. I was expecting The Incredible Shrinking Man with a wisecracking cop (played by Tim Thomerson). But it’s nothing along those lines. Even though Thomerson’s human-looking alien cop is only supposedly to be thirteen inches tall, there’s not a single scene of him interacting with some oversized prop or an exaggerated set. Dollman‘s too cheap for those effects.

It’s too cheap for a lot, apparently. Thomerson has a double for long shots, one with completely different hair. The double does some of the process shots too, for when Thomerson’s on screen with regular-sized people.

The script’s a disaster–it’s more of a social piece about the Bronx than a sci-fi action thriller–but there’s occasionally hilarious dialogue.

Thomerson’s pretty disinterested, but his lines usually go over well. The film also stars Jackie Earle Haley, playing a gang banger out of the seventies. Haley occasionally does really well. The script’s weak for him, but he’s got a lot of charm, even as a vicious moron.

It’s lame.

0/4ⓏⒺⓇⓄ

CREDITS

Directed by Albert Pyun; screenplay by David Pabian and Chris Roghair, based on a story by Charles Band; director of photography, George Mooradian; edited by Margeret-Anne Smith; music by Anthony Riparetti; production designer, Don Day; produced by Cathy Gesualdo; released by Paramount Home Video.

Starring Tim Thomerson (Brick Bardo), Jackie Earle Haley (Braxton Red), Kamala Lopez (Debi Alejandro), Humberto Ortiz (Kevin Alejandro), Nicholas Guest (Skyresh), Judd Omen (Mayor), Michael Halsey (Cally), Frank Doubleday (Cloy), Frank Collison (Sprug), Vincent Klyn (Hector), John Durbin (Fisher) and Merle Kennedy (Maria).

RELATED

Trancers (1985, Charles Band)

There’s something real strange about Trancers. It’s not the film’s obvious references to early 1980s sci-fi successes, Blade Runner and The Terminator (cop travels back in time to fight zombie bad guys who look like regular people). It’s certainly not the direction–while Trancers is incredibly low budget, $400,000 still was a few bucks in 1985, certainly enough for this story, which doesn’t need its future scenes. No, what’s strange about Trancers is its love story, between future cop Tim Thomerson and local girl Helen Hunt. It’s real good. The scenes between Hunt and Thomerson, though poorly written, are great.

I used to be a huge Helen Hunt fan, until she became a big movie star, then I noticed she was good when she didn’t have a kid. But in Trancers, she’s appealing, with a great acting sense. She’s around twenty-two in this film, but it’s a reasoned, mature performance. Thomerson is also good, but his acting is a completely different style. I saw Trancers initially, years ago, because Leonard Maltin gave it two and a half or something and based the rating on Thomerson’s comedic performance. Thomerson’s got a tough guy self-awareness in Trancers. The opening of the film–the future–is very film noir. The costumes, the dialogue. But, first it’s in a future cafe, so it shouldn’t really work, and then it’s on a sunny beach, so it shouldn’t work either… but it does. The absurdity of it works. But the scenes with Thomerson and Hunt, you get to watch these two vastly different acting styles, which ought to conflict, seamlessly connect. You enjoy seeing these two people act together.

Another bonus to Trancers (but not one significant enough to save it if not for the acting, which I also need to include Biff Manard in, he’s good) is the economical storytelling. It runs seventy-six minutes and, while the first act with all the future stuff is too long, the second and third acts are real well-paced. Actually, given its writers, Danny Bilson and Paul De Meo are TV guys, it’s not surprising the second and third acts actually feel like a TV show plugged on to the end of (bad) feature’s first act. The writing’s not good, but the movie moves and it’s not bad enough to hinder the performances.

1.5/4★½

CREDITS

Produced and directed by Charles Band; written by Danny Bilson and Paul De Meo; director of photography, Mac Ahlberg; edited by Ted Nicolaou; music by Phil Davies and Mark Ryder; production designer, Jeff Staggs; released by Empire Pictures.

Starring Tim Thomerson (Jack Deth), Helen Hunt (Leena), Michael Stefani (Whistler), Art LaFleur (McNulty), Telma Hopkins (Engineer Ruthie Raines), Richard Herd (Chairman Spencer), Anne Seymour (Chairman Ashe), Miguel Fernandes (Officer Lopez) and Biff Manard (Hap Ashby).

RELATED

Volunteers (1985, Nicholas Meyer)

The oddest part of Volunteers is the opening credits. I queued it because I’ve been reading Ken Levine’s blog (he’s one of the screenwriters) and he did a whole write-up on it a while ago. I suppose I knew, but had forgotten, Nicholas Meyer directed the film. Volunteers is his follow-up to Star Trek II, which would have been considered a success for him. He even brought James Horner along from Star Trek to score Volunteers. James Horner should not score comedies (though he does use some of his other material, I think from Star Trek and Aliens, in the film).

Since Meyer brings nothing to the film, all the responsibility falls on Tom Hanks, who does the whole film with an exaggerated New England accent. He manages to keep the accent for the whole film too. The film takes place in 1962, just after Kennedy started the Peace Corps–I missed that detail somehow, I just thought they were showing the old film clips over the titles to be historical–and I’m wondering if my misunderstanding affected the first twenty minutes. The first twenty minutes are mildly amusing. Tom Hanks is acting like a prick, which he’s very good at doing, but nothing really made me laugh. Then, once he gets to Thailand–maybe just on the Peace Corps plane–Volunteers starts getting funny. It might have more to do with John Candy. Candy is good in Volunteers, better than anything else I’ve ever seen him in. Still, he’s not the best supporting cast member–Gedde Watanabe is great.

Since I saw the film for Levine, I suppose I do have to say something about the writing. It’s good and funny. There are quite a few laugh out-loud moments in Volunteers–most of Watanabe’s lines for a forty minute period are real funny–and the film’s never predictable in the story progressions, with the regular exception of the romance between Hanks and Rita Wilson. The film’s become a footnote in Hanks’ biography for that reason. She’s not good, but it hardly matters, the film isn’t interested in her character. The funny stuff is going on elsewhere.

Even with the traditional romance story-arc, Volunteers ends on an unexpected note, managing to stay truer to itself than expected. The film’s humor isn’t irreverent–Levine and co-writer David Isaacs are sitcom writers who write for good shows–but it is a referential humor. One would need to know, for example, about the CIA’s activities in East Asia, which might not have been too much to ask in 1985, but certainly is too much today. Hanks’ performance is also so unlike his regular performances (he only had a few years before he found his shtik) doesn’t help its accessibility either. Still, there’s no excuse for its bad reputation. It actually needed to be longer–Levine and Isaacs set up a few jokes they never finished and could have….