Dreamscape (1984)

 ☆ ☆ ☆

Dreamscape (1984) – J. Ruben

Promising high concept thriller let down by its low budget and ‘80s production – Christopher Nolan’s Inception (2010) took the basic premise and did it better. Dennis Quaid is a psychic who, with the help of scientist Max Von Sydow, learns to enter people’s dreams. As expected, he’s a cocky kid but with a good heart, genuinely wanting to help people having nightmares, but also using his powers to win at the racetrack and put the moves on researcher Kate Capshaw.  Enter Christopher Plummer as the Deep State head honcho who wants to train people to enter dreams to extract information and also to kill targets in an untraceable way (if you die in your dream, you die for real -- but it looks like a heart attack). When the President (Eddie Albert) decides he wants to go for nuclear disarmament and Plummer disagrees, it is up to Quaid to enter the President’s dreams to fight off Plummer’s own dream-surfing psychic (David Patrick Kelly). It’s all pretty cheesy but, you know, not bad.  You can see why Quaid’s career took off around this time.

 

After the Rehearsal (1984)

 ☆ ☆ ☆ ½

After the Rehearsal (1984) – I. Bergman

Bergman, like Fellini, often makes films seemingly about himself, his life circumstances, or, of course, his personal psychological and philosophical concerns. Here, in a small chamber play for television, he is either delivering an apologia for his years of affairs with his leading actresses or he is truly acknowledging the misfortune he has inflicted on the lives of others. Erland Josephson, a recurring Bergman stand-in, plays Vogler, an older playwright/director currently rehearsing Strindberg’s A Dream Play. Young Lena Olin (pre-Hollywood) plays the actress, Anna, he has cast in the lead (as Indra’s Daughter – who visits humanity and witnesses their misfortunes). After the day’s rehearsal, she makes her way on stage where the director is resting, caught up in his own thoughts (which we hear in voiceover). What follows seems both meticulously prepared and yet organic – the conversation follows normal logic, only slowly getting to the point.  But what is that point? The director has known the actress since she was born and indeed had a on-and-off affair with her mother, also an actress.  The mother (Ingrid Thulin) soon makes an appearance which seems to be only in the director’s mind (Olin sits motionless while Josephson and Thulin run their lines, but is sometimes replaced by a 12-year-old actress in the same clothes). We learn that Thulin’s character, Rakel, descended into alcoholism, perhaps as a result of her treatment by Vogler, and was eventually cast aside by him. She is desperate and distraught in the dream/fantasy/reminiscence. Returning to Anna, it becomes clearer that she is potentially angling for her own affair with the director (clearly 30 or 40 years her senior). This provides Bergman with the opportunity to reflect on his past behaviour, to offer a suggestion about how he might act now, and above all to reflect on the context of the theatre and how it helps to create a fantasy world for actors who subsequently cannot separate play-acting from the real thing.

 

Body Double (1984)

 ☆ ☆ ☆

Body Double (1984) – B. De Palma

Brian De Palma’s obsession with Hitchcock reaches its logical conclusion in this extremely lurid pastiche of both Rear Window and Vertigo. Whereas Hitch managed to get us to identify with Jimmy Stewart’s “Scottie” (Vertigo) and “Jeff” (Rear Window) despite their unsavoury behaviours, De Palma makes these problems more explicit so that Craig Wasson’s Jake is more obviously a peeping tom and a stalker. Thus, even as we come to suspect that Jake is a pawn in somebody else’s plot (a la Vertigo), being encouraged to witness a murder and to draw the wrong conclusions, we can’t really feel as much sympathy for him. Sure, his weakness (claustrophobia in this case) makes him the perfect dupe but De Palma lets Jake cross so many conceivable lines of propriety (um, even becoming a porn star?) that the plot mechanics borrowed from the Master lose some of their effect in the trashiness of it all.  De Palma does a good job with the camera, using tracking shots to elicit a dream-like state as Jake trails Gloria around Hollywood (including stealing the 360 degree kiss from Vertigo), but Wasson is a bland everyman who seems to have never been relied on to carry another film after this. In contrast, Melanie Griffith does show a spark of charisma (in the final minutes of the film), despite being objectified for most of the film. Truly, De Palma’s films always seem to go too far in the direction of bad taste but Body Double is ultimately less enjoyable than Blow Out, Sisters, Obsession, and even Dressed to Kill (if I am remembering them correctly). I did not remember the music video for Frankie Goes to Hollywood embedded in the film but I did see them in concert around this time!

 

The Hit (1984)

 ☆ ☆ ☆ ½

The Hit (1984) – S. Frears

Stephen Frears’ first film of the ‘80s is a stylish “noir” shot beautifully in broad daylight in Spain where two hitmen, John Hurt and Tim Roth, finally catch up with Terrence Stamp who ratted out his bank robbing colleagues 10 years before. It’s also a road movie as we follow these three (plus hostage Laura del Sol) as they trek toward France where the gang leader, previously betrayed, awaits. (Deliciously, they are trailed by the cops led by Fernando Rey, of all people). Finally, it’s a mediation on death: Stamp declares that he is ready for it (reading a sonnet by John Donne to prove it) but others do not believe him. I guess it is a sort of existential threat to a hitman’s sense of meaning if death is not feared and John Hurt does seem to gradually lose his bearings across the film. Frears to his credit manages to keep the tension high even though the vibe is often “family vacation”. This is also essentially Roth’s debut (with blond hair) and you can see why Tarantino (a fan of this film) chose him for subsequent projects. Definitely worth a look.

 

Beverly Hills Cop (1984)

 ☆ ☆ ☆ ½

Beverly Hills Cop (1984) – M. Brest

Far better than in his debut (in 48 Hrs., 1982), Eddie Murphy really commands this action-comedy blockbuster, much of which may involve improvised dialogue. He’s come into his own and every other character, primarily the real Beverly Hills cops played by Judge Reinhold and John Ashton, spend their time reacting to him.  Murphy plays Axel Foley, a Detroit detective whose childhood friend turned hoodlum is offed by an Art-Dealer/Drug-Smuggler from Beverly Hills. Foley goes rogue, travels to California, and succeeds in more-or-less singlehandedly solving the case and getting the local force to act.  There’s a lot of gun violence, swearing, some nudity – so not for kids (did I really see this in ’84?) – but it is also genial and sails forth atop Murphy’s charisma, so it is a fun vehicle for him. 

 

The Karate Kid (1984)

 ☆ ☆ ☆ ½

The Karate Kid (1984) – J. G. Avildsen

My sons are learning karate now, so Amon and I decided to watch this 80s classic (which I had in fact never watched).  Director John Avildsen made his name with Rocky (1976) so I knew what to expect (if everything about this film wasn’t already cultural knowledge). Daniel (Ralph Macchio) moves from NJ to California with his single mum and encounters bullies there (and also falls in love with Ali/Elizabeth Shue).  He is taken under the wing of the building maintenance man, Mr Miyagi (Pat Morita), who eventually agrees to train him in karate.  The bullies, it turns out, are from a local dojo run by a sadistic Vietnam Vet and the head bully, Johnny (William Zabka), is Ali’s ex.  Trouble continues until everyone agrees to lay off until the big karate tournament at the end of the year.  You know what happens but Avildsen et al. handle the emotional pay-off well.  Amon is in the other room saying “wax on, wax off” right now – I hope this won’t affect his real training.

 

Dune (1984)

☆ ☆ ☆

Dune (1984) – D. Lynch

I saw this on the big screen back when it was released – but I didn’t remember it at all.  Now that I’ve read Frank Herbert’s novel and well, because David Lynch, I thought I would watch it again.  And despite some surreal Lynchian passages (giant worms with giant mouths) and an overall dreamlike feel to the proceedings, the damn thing would surely be incomprehensible if you haven’t read the book.  Now, if you have read the book, you’ll find a strangely abridged rendering of the rather epic story, with a lot left out (and some tiny bits from other novels in the series seemingly added in).  Characters are barely introduced (occasionally by voiceover from Princess Irulan who also offers some similar overviews in the book) and hearing their whispered thoughts (also a feature of the book) is rather disorienting when we don’t really know them at all.  Kyle MacLachlan is Paul Maudib, the self-anointed (but true to prophecy) saviour of the planet Arrakis and its rebel group, the (blue-eyed) Fremen.  He is up against Baron Harkonnen (with nephew Sting) and Emperor Shaddam who are aligned with a big corporation that mines and profits from the spice melange (which is highly addictive).  The politics of Dune are rather lost in this version (truncated by the producers but unable to be satisfactorily reconstructed according to Lynch) as are the more-pertinent-than-ever environmental implications of a desert planet with no water.  The pre-CGI special effects are at times clunky and at other times just plain weird (a la Lynch).  You could watch the film and just marvel at its weirdness – there is probably enough to enjoy; but if you are looking for plot or substance, then look elsewhere (perhaps in Denis Villeneuve’s upcoming version that is currently in post-production). Also, for fans of the book, it does appear that Lynch has changed the ending.

  

The Natural (1984)

☆ ☆ ☆

The Natural (1984) – B. Levinson

I never watched this back in the day and, watching now, it certainly has a dated sort of style – you can tell somehow that it’s the ‘80s even though the events depicted take place in the 1930s.  It’s the kind of film where you know that good is going to triumph over evil, that Robert Redford is definitely going to hit the home run that saves the day – and he does. It’s a picture that pretends to evoke suspense but always goes for the gratifying outcome; by the end, viewers can have no doubt that everything will work out.  In that way, it’s a fantasy film and there are suggestions that it has loose connections to the legend of King Arthur (the team is called the Knights) as well as Homer’s Odyssey (with Darren McGavin’s one-eyed bookie as the Cyclops and Robert Prosky as Hades), although the film isn’t really overt about this.  Moreover, director Barry Levinson decided to change the downbeat ending of Bernard Malamud’s novel (which I haven’t read but may have on my shelf) to keep Redford’s Roy Hobbs an unadulterated hero at the end of the day.  Or perhaps he is adulterated – we never really find out what happened in the 16 years when he didn’t play baseball (he is a star prospect in 1923 but suffers a freak event, courtesy of Barbara Hershey) and claims only to have made mistakes.  The script keeps him as a mystery and Redford plays him opaquely (and rather flatly).  Even in his relationships with Kim Basinger (evil) and Glenn Close (good) he remains distant and impenetrable (although we assume he eventually connects with the latter). Of course, this film is probably most well loved by baseball fans and a deeper knowledge of the sport and its fabled players might lead to greater enjoyment (at the allusions to real events).  As it stands, it is a bit corny, a bit old-fashioned, but you can count on an uplifting heart-warming finale.

  

Choose Me (1984)

☆ ☆ ☆ ½

Choose Me (1984) – A. Rudolph

Director Alan Rudolph was a protégé of Robert Altman (working as AD on Nashville, for example) and Choose Me offers a similar sort of unpredictable (almost plotless) experience as Altman once offered up.  But the characters that Rudolph gives us here (a talk radio relationship therapist, a promiscuous bar owner, an escaped mental patient and/or former spy, among others) seem somewhat phony – people don’t really talk the way that they are scripted here, all psychobabble with hearts on sleeves.  Moreover, it is hard to really grasp any of the points that Rudolph may be wanting to make about love or sex or relationships (just what are all those prostitutes doing hanging around anyway?).  I think I get it that the radio therapist (Genevieve Bujold) has difficulties with relationships herself but is “cured” to some degree by sex with romantic Keith Carradine (possibly mad) who nevertheless ends up with Lesley Anne Warren, the bar owner who can’t say no to men but hates herself for it.  I didn’t get a sense that these were real people or that there are any real people like this.  Still, the fact that the film doesn’t telegraph where it is going keeps it watchable. Thinking about it like a stage play (especially as all the characters’ paths intersect) probably makes the most sense. But it does have its merits as cinema as well with an astonishing EIGHTIES feel, some good cinematography and set design (including pink neon lighting everywhere) and a smooth Teddy Pendergrass soundtrack. But it is more than a little freaky just to think that these hair and clothing styles were normal at one point – now they seem as artificial as the rest of the film.