Pops Saw a Movie: MAESTRO

I still haven’t seen OPPENHEIMER and it took me three sittings to get through BARBIE (no review pending). But last night I dove into MAESTRO, and was… underwhelmed. Despite owning a dozen or so of Leonard Bernstein’s albums (both music he composed and conducted), I’m hardly well versed in classical music (unlike my brother). I was actually hoping for a movie that would convey Bernstein’s passion for this music into something transcendent and moving. What I got was a movie about Bradley Cooper’s passion for… Bradley Cooper. Leaning heavily into personal melodrama and era-specific cinematography (not to mention aging makeup), this feels more like a vanity project for the star / director than a tribute to a complicated artist (kind of like a less embarrassing version of Kevin Spacey’s Bobby Darin biopic, BEYOND THE SEA). 

As a director, Cooper seems unable to pull good performances out of actors who aren’t already great (I love her, but Sarah Silverman was painfully bad as Bernstein’s sister). As an actor, Cooper feels more like he’s going for an impersonation of the man than a depiction (I never stopped noticing the makeup and the affected voice, not a good sign). 

But maybe the most irrefutable evidence of this movie’s failure is that when it was over, I wasn’t compelled to pull out any of my Bernstein discs and give them a listen (as I was with my Gershwin albums after watching the 1945 film, RHAPSODY IN BLUE over the summer). MAESTRO conveys almost no passion for Bernstein’s music, at least not as much as his passion for young men and cigarettes. 

Paired with Cooper’s likewise-painful A STAR IS BORN remake (a movie for which I struggle to understand the accolades), there’s now ample evidence that Bradley Cooper is primiarly interested in delving into the greatness of himself. You want a good movie about classical music and a complicated genius? Watch Cate Blanchett in TAR instead. 

Oh, and I’m going to keep calling this film, LENNY. 

Originally posted on social media, Jan. 8, 2024

Pops Saw a Movie: BATMAN AND ME

 Proving that sometimes you absolutely CAN judge a book by its cover, BATMAN AND ME (2020, currently streaming on Prime) is an absolutely TERRIBLE documentary with a horrendously ugly poster. Directed by Michael Wayne (no relation), the film focuses on Australian collector, Darren “Dags” Maxwell, whose Batman obsession began with Tim Burton’s 1989 film and pretty much ended with Joel Schumacher’s 1997 franchise-killer, BATMAN & ROBIN. But what was it, really? Maxwell, despite owning thousands of Batman collectibles, admittedly has very little connection to the character (even messing up the provenance of what’s supposedly one of his favorite items), repeatedly referring to his collecting as an obsession, but one that feels way more like a psychological problem than a deep affection for the Caped Crusader. 

Dags (who also has other collections, and is married to a likewise-inclined woman whose passions include STAR TREK and teddy bears) contradicts himself numerous times in the movie, swinging from being dismissive of his Bat-Crap to getting almost teary over a mint 1989 BATMAN board game. Sure, lots of collectors (myself included) often feel a love / hate thing regarding their piles of plastic, but Dags is never challenged on his wishy washiness, and is ultimately a completely uninteresting (and unlikeable) subject, seemingly chosen merely for the breadth of his collection. 

But Maxwell’s confounding relationship with his collection serves as a springboard for director Wayne (and his writers) to express a rather superficial disdain for those who spend a lot of money on things like action figures and comic books (et al). But the film never really digs into the psychology of collecting (there are zero interviews with experts), rather it puts forth the incredibly subjective opinion that, while acknowledging that some of this stuff can be fun, ultimately, it’s a waste of time and money (the film’s end credits roll over a slow motion sequence of toys being dropped into a trash can). If that’s the agenda of the filmmakers, it’s a disingenuous bait-and-switch, but even worse, the movie is just a dull, meandering waste of time.

Originally posted on social media, Jan. 25, 2024

Pops Saw a Movie: ROAD HOUSE

Last year, my girlfriend and I hosted a SBIG* movie double feature, SHOWGIRLS and ROAD HOUSE. It was a good time. 

When Netflix dropped the new ROAD HOUSE remake starring Jake Gyllenhaal, we decided that I’d check it out first, and if, after a half hour or so, it seemed like something Haven would want to see, I’d stop watching and we could view it together. 

I did not stop watching. 

This overblown, yet somehow also underdone “reimagining” (ha!) features so many head-scratching decisions on the part of the filmmakers that I almost wondered if they’d even SEEN the 1989 original. How do you take a movie that’s so over-the-top that remaking it feels like a quixotic endeavor, and then actually make it LESS ludicrous?? I mean, in the ways that count. Rowdy Herrington’s ‘89 ROAD HOUSE is chock full of cartoony moments, pulpy dialogue, and narrative stretches, but it also feels oddly real in its own context, and there are (amazingly) some relationships that have weight (primarily that between Patrick Swayze’s Dalton and his mentor and friend, Wade Garrett, played with an oozing, playful machismo swagger by Sam Elliott). 

Director Doug Liman’s new movie eschews any attempt at creating actual relationships between Dalton (reportedly the SON of Swayze’s character, although it’s never mentioned, probably because the film’s plot runs too parallel to the original to make that detail anything but distracting) and the supporting cast in favor of solitary brooding and bursts of anger (this Dalton is definitely NOT a practitioner of Zen Buddhism). But if the film wanted to amp up the action of the first, why the hell did they make every single fight scene utilizing CGI? This is not a Marvel movie (even if some characters do end up flying through the air and smashing through walls, which, sure, needs to be computer-generated). The absence of any real fight / stunt scenes feels not just like an insult to the diminishing stunt community in film, but it robs the movie of any true bone-crunching heft. As with so many movies that over-utilize this technology, it ends up feeling more like a video game than anything. 

In some ways, it reminds me of Rob Zombie’s likewise-ill-advised HALLOWEEN remake… the movie takes everything that made the original a cult classic and supplants it with modern tropes that are instantly forgettable. There’s no “Pain don’t hurt,” there’s no “Be Nice” speech to the bouncers at the not-a-Road House beach bar, there’s no character who fulfills Wade’s role, you never get the sense that the villain carries any true weight in the town, and the romance between Dalton and the doctor feels like a shoehorned afterthought. 

As for UFC fighter Conor McGregor’s film debut as the maniacal hired muscle, Knox, it’s a performance that makes the Tasmanian Devil seem low-key. If that’s your bag, then you may dig it, but when someone is so relentlessly one-note, it gets old really fast (and a mid-credits scene featuring McGregor hints at a hopefully-not-realized sequel). 

Anyway. This is a lot of words for something so silly. But after discussing the movie the past few days with a few people, it seems as if there are a lot of people who are curious, but skeptical. With reason. Proceed with caution.

* SBIG: So Bad It’s Good

Originally posted on social media, March 31, 2024

Pops Read a Book: JOHNNY CARSON

 I’ve been watching old TONIGHT SHOW episodes (rebranded as JOHNNY CARSON) for a while now, and it’s whetted my appetite to know more about the show and its host (and yes, I’m old enough to have watched it as a kid into adulthood; in Elementary School, I knew I was up too late if I heard the theme, with its distinctive opening blast of brass, coming from my parents’ bedroom). 

The succinctly titled, JOHNNY CARSON (Mariner Books, 2013) is written by Carson’s lawyer and friend (as much as he had them), Henry Bushkin, and it’s a highly subjective angle for the story. Rather than a straight biography, this book focuses on the years Bushkin worked and played with Johnny, dishing the dirt on his failed marriages, his contract negotiations, his business dealings, and his surprisingly laissez-faire attitude towards his own finances. 

It’s interesting, but it’s not really what I was looking for. There’s a sprinkling of biographical background (his mother was a nightmare and he was a distant father himself), but there’s almost nothing about the actual production and evolution of THE TONIGHT SHOW, or any kind of discussion about the sociological and cultural impact that it had. So, this one won’t be staying on the shelves. Luckily, this fall, the late Bill Zehme’s CARSON THE MAGNIFICENT, a book ten years in the making, will be released, and will no doubt be a far more satisfying dig into the life and work of the enigmatic superstar.

Originally posted on social media, April 23, 2024

Pops Read a Book: COMEDY COMEDY COMEDY DRAMA

 I blew through Bob Odenkirk’s COMEDY COMEDY COMEDY DRAMA (Random House, 2022), an eminently readable, often hilarious (of course), sometimes inspiring memoir. Tracing his nascent comedy years in Chicago (an encounter with the legendary Del Close gives fascinating backstory) through his vast comedy résumé into unexpected dramatic turns, Odenkirk’s story is laced with self-deprecation that never feels like the kind of false modesty that defines many Hollywood memoirs. Odenkirk’s literary voice is so strong that you can’t help but hear him while reading (it’s like an audiobook with print!). 

I only have two slight complaints, and they are of omission. I don’t know if Odenkirk finished writing this book before the January 6 insurrection or not, but I’ve been dying to hear some of Jay Johnston’s former coworkers to weigh in on why they think the comedian turned to the dark side. But more importantly, I wish the paperback edition (for which I waited) had included an added postscript about the author’s 2021 heart attack on the set of BETTER CALL SAUL that nearly killed him. In interviews since the event, Odenkirk has said that it was a life-altering event, so one would think he might want to add it to the story of, you know… his LIFE. Maybe at some point. But without that epilogue, as great as this book is, it feels… unfinished. 

originally posted on social media, May 11, 2024

Pops Watched TV: MR. AND MRS. SMITH

Prime’s MR. & MRS. SMITH reboot is a really odd duck of a TV show. Donald Glover and Maya Erskine play the titular couple, placed together when they join a mysterious agency that engages in spy-like activity. The arranged marriage quickly evolves into a real romance, but problems arise when it turns out they “just want different things.” 

Now, here’s the problem with the show, and it’s pretty deeply rooted: We’re supposed to believe that in order to join this unnamed organization, you have to be some kind of sociopath, lacking in empathy, willing to completely abandon your previous life and all its connections, in addition to, you know, being okay with killing people for reasons you’re never told. And yet, while the only aspect of her previous life Jane seems to hold onto is her cat, John continues to stay in disturbingly frequent touch with his mother, and turns out to have really, REALLY conventional hopes and desires. I mean, I don’t want to spoil it, but… 

Okay, it’s kids. He wants kids (at one point whispering a cringe-inducing "I want to put a baby in you" during an al fresco coitus). And to buy a house (or two). And maybe move his Mom in at some point. All things that would seem to be COMPLETELY anathema to this chosen vocation, desires which would no doubt be disqualifying in a presumably strident screening process. But apparently, we’re supposed to believe that all it takes is lying on your job application to be embedded in this high-end, super-secret society of super assassins. 

It might be a bit easier to swallow if Mr. Smith WERE inept at the assignments, and while not every mission goes smoothly, he certainly has enough facility with weapons and hand-to-hand combat to indicate that he didn’t make this career choice on a whim. So his rather speedy embrace of traditional family values feels… like a fictional construct. Which, of course, it is. 

Now, I love Donald Glover. I think he’s multi-talented and has charm to burn. As his not-quite-as-conventional wife, Maya Erskine is likewise engaging, and they have enough chemistry and comic timing together to keep me tuned in for the whole season, although by the end, it was a bit of a struggle. I doubt I will be coming back for Season 2. Of course, as always, your mileage may vary. 

Especially if you have kids and a mortgage. Which I don’t. So. 

NOTE:
This is the first thing I've posted in a while, I've been lazy / discouraged at the lack of traffic, so I've been posting my reviews of things strictly on my various social media platforms. I realize that even if I'm just using this Blog as an online portfolio, I need to be putting even things like short reviews on here, so look for me to play catch-up on some dusty reviews in the weeks to come. Okay, Scott? 

The Pops Gallery: The Daily Superman IV

50 more posts from my ongoing Daily Superman Instagram Page (from Animated to Zod)! Give me a follow, why don't ya (link to the right)....