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Posts Tagged ‘Joel Schumacher’

Nostalgia’s a funny old thing, and it can get you in different ways and come at you from unexpected directions. I was a couple of years too young to see Joel Schumacher’s The Lost Boys on its initial release in 1987, but I was certainly aware of it and keen to actually watch it (1987 being the year in which I discovered Hammer and started actually watching proper horror films). Those were the days in which you actually had to wait for films to turn up on TV, and it wasn’t until the very end of 1990 (if memory serves, anyway) that The Lost Boys turned up on terrestrial UK TV. Back in those days the long gap between release and small-screen premiere sometimes meant the later was almost an event in its own right, and I do vaguely recall there being something of a boom in interest in The Lost Boys in early 1991: songs off the soundtrack being re-released, and so on. It was a strange and vivid time, for all sorts of reasons, both personal and historical, and watching The Lost Boys again brings them all back to me: I have no great associations connected with the actual theatrical release of this film, but I can get very nostalgic about its first couple of TV showings. As I say, it’s a funny old thing.

Happily, the film itself bears up well all these years later. After some preliminary scene-setting stuff in the small Californian town of Santa Carla (people being dragged into the sky by unseen monsters, etc), it settles down to being about the travails of the Emerson family, who are just in the process of moving to the town from Arizona: mum Lucy (Dianne West) has got divorced, and is moving in with her eccentric old father (Barnard Hughes), bringing with her her less than impressed sons Michael (Jason Patric) and Sam (Corey Haim).

While Lucy gets a job working at the local video store – oh, it’s so 1980s! – and finds herself courteously wooed by her employer, Max (Ed Herrman), it seems that romance is on the cards for Michael, too, when he meets a mysterious young woman named star (Jami Gertz) – although she seems to be in the orbit of a slightly menacing gang of youths led by a chap named David (Kiefer Sutherland). No chance of any such amatory entanglement for Sam, however, although he does make friends down at the local comic book store (the fact that this movie was made by Warner Brothers, owner of DC Comics, means this the only 1980s comic book store in which there doesn’t seem to be a single issue of X-Men on display). His new chums the Frog brothers (Corey Feldman and Jamison Newlander) keep giving him horror comics, indicating they could somehow prove useful.

And indeed they do, as Michael’s various escapades with David and the gang have unexpected consequences: a sudden lust for human blood, a tendency to show up in mirrors as a translucent phantom, a distaste for sunlight, and so on. Sam is not impressed: ‘My own brother, a goddamn vampire…! You wait till Mom finds out…!’ However, Lucy is happily oblivious to all of this as she is courted by the mild-mannered Max, and it looks like the only help the boys can call upon is that of the less than impressive Frog brothers…

Historically, The Lost Boys is quite an interesting movie – it wasn’t quite the first vampire movie to be made by a major studio in the 1980s, as there was a whole batch of these around this time – the original Fright Night, Near Dark, The Hunger, and so on. Of all of these, The Lost Boys is probably most influenced by Fright Night in the way it manages to blend comedy with horror, but its innovation is to suggest that vampires can be young and cool and ride motorbikes – Fright Night is to some extent spoofing the conventions of the traditional vampire film, but The Lost Boys is doing something new, and its influence on later films and TV shows like Buffy the Vampire Slayer is obvious.

That said, I would add that I think this is probably a better film than most of those others in the teen vampire-comedy-horror subgenre – Near Dark is, I would suggest, the best actual vampire horror movie made in America in the 1980s, while it’s a long time since I’ve actually seen The Hunger; too long to comment on it with confidence. The Lost Boys is funny when it’s trying to be funny, and – well, it’s not actually that scary, but does a good job of actually looking like it’s trying to be scary in the appropriate places.

Plus it’s much cleverer and more subtle than you would expect from what initially looks like an unusually slick and atmospheric teen comic horror. You expect the gag here to be that the parental figures stay secure in their world of misguided conservatism, leaving the teenagers to save the town from the vampires – but the great twist of the movie is the way that it subverts this. It is a surprisingly good twist, but then I may just be saying that because it took me by surprise the first time I watched the movie: knowing my vampire lore, I noticed the major clue that the writers drop into the script, but didn’t clock it as being significant. It seems to me that it turns the whole movie into a comment on the self-obsessed self-importance of teenagers, with much of the significant plot work being done by much older characters whom they tend to ignore or dismiss; it also sets up one of the funniest last lines of any movie that I can recall.

As I say, it is very 80s, which means gribbly special effects, interesting hairstyles, Corey Feldman and Corey Haim, and some good-looking actors in the principle boy and girl roles who never ended up making much of an impression anywhere else. You can sort of see why Kiefer Sutherland was the only young performer to go on to significant stardom, although this is not to say that the more senior actors are anything other than capable in their roles. My memory of this film from initially watching it is mainly of the soundtrack, which stands up unusually well – there are a few songs which I will hear and instantly think of this film, most obviously the cover of ‘People are Strange’ which plays over the titles. Schumacher covers it all with his usual style: I still don’t think his Batman films were any good, but this one definitely was. I don’t think this is a guilty pleasure or even a Good Bad movie, really: it’s just a lot of fun, which manages to be both slick and clever.

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From the Hootoo archive. Originally published December 16th 2004:

[Originally following a review of Blade: Trinity…]

From a film which is a bit of mixed bag in terms of quality, to one with an extremely eclectic cast and crew. Yes, with Moulin Rouge and Chicago both doing rather well at the box office, Andrew Lloyd-Webber’s The Phantom of the Opera has finally made it onto a screen near you, directed by Joel Schumacher. Yes, Joel Schumacher, a man whose track record with masked obsessives who only come out at night is not fantastic (let us not forget, this is the man who nearly-singlehandedly destroyed the Batman franchise) – but then again his particular brand of tastelessness could be just what Lloyd-Webber’s money machine needs…

Set in 1870s Paris, this is the tale of queer doings a-transpiring at the Opera House. The new management (Ciaran Hinds and the perennially Dickensian Simon Callow) are shocked when their diva-ish leading lady (an appallingly OTT silly accent performance by Minnie Driver) walks out on them and they are forced to recast with chorus girl Christine (Emmy Rossum). However, Christine stuns the crowd and is a great success on her debut, catching the eye of her childhood sweetheart Raoul (a rather damp Patrick Wilson), who just happens to be the new financial backer of the House.

But, as Christine later tells her friend Meg (an unexpected swerve upmarket for lad’s mag regular Jennifer Ellison), she has been given extensive musical tuition for the past decade by a mysterious, near-ghostly presence in the Opera House. And now this Phantom is prepared to reveal himself to her and declare his love! It turns out to be Gerard Butler in a mask that gives him a slight but still distracting resemblence to Space Commander Travis from Blake’s 7. He is a deformed polymath living in a secret cavern under the Opera House (the cavern must be fairly well soundproofed as he spends most of his time singing his head off), a pitiful creature living vicariously through the success of his young musical protege. Did anyone mention Simon Cowell?

Well, Gaston Leroux’s original story survives pretty much intact, as does the Lloyd-Webber stage show (additional lyrics, let us not forget, by Richard Stilgoe). Having seen three-quarters of the theatrical version (it’s a long and slightly embarrassing story, and hello, Leiner, if you’re reading this) it seems very clear to me that when writing the screenplay Schumacher and his Lordship took great pains not to alienate the huge and devoted fanbase the stage show has acquired, as this is a fairly literal adaptation. The musical arrangements are extremely retro as a result. A few of the tricks and stunts have been excised but nothing appropriately startling has been put in to replace them.

And as on stage, the movie rather uncomfortably straddles the frontier between musical and real opera: once beyond the opening, there’s virtually no dialogue that isn’t sung, even when it doesn’t actually rhyme or scan. This does seem rather pretentious, especially given how middle-of-the-road most of the actual songs are. Butler, Rossum, and the rest do a fair old job of belting them out but given how closely associated they are with the original cast (Michael Crawford, Sarah Brightman, etc) the best-known numbers always have a hint of karaoke about them.

Given that Moulin Rouge kick-started the current musical revival, and that Phantom occurs in a very similar milieu, it’s a shame that some of the demented energy of Baz Luhrmann’s film didn’t find its way into this one – Schumacher’s direction is surprisingly restrained and pedestrian. Only rarely does Phantom take flight and acquire a sort of phantasmagorical deliriousness that helps fend off the ever-present threat of cheesiness.

But it has an interesting cast, including familiar TV faces like Miranda Richardson, Vic McGuire and Kevin McNally, and it’s involving enough (if a bit too long and flabby in the middle section). Long-term readers will recall my concern for Gerard Butler’s career, and while he makes an impression as the Phantom, he never really makes the most of what is, on paper at least, an exceptionally good part. As for Emmy Rossum, she does a good enough job, but I found the way she was rather unsubtly sexed up towards the end of the film rather tawdry and disturbing. Oh well, I must be getting past it.

Whatever the merits of the stage version of Phantom of the Opera, this film adaptation is not up to the same standard as Chicago or Moulin Rouge, simply because it never quite breaks free from its theatrical origins. The songs and score remain thrilling, but the realisation of the rest of the production isn’t up to the same standard. Devotees of the original will doubtless have a great time, but I remain rather ambivalent about the whole thing.

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From the Hootoo archive. Originally published April 24th 2003:

A good few years ago I lived in a house where, for a while, we didn’t have a phone installed. And so every time I needed to make a call – normally in emergencies, to my family or the takeaway or a chat line – I had to pop out and use a phone box. And I rapidly came to loath and despise a certain class of users above all other – no, not the ones who wee on the floor, but people who ring someone up and then get them to call them back in the booth! Thus enabling them to hog the damn thing all night without worrying about running out of change!

This scourge of society has largely become a thing of the past what with everyone and their dog (except me, it seems) having their own mobile phone, thus allowing them to annoy people in a much wider range of locales, but it is nice to see them excoriated one last time in Joel Schumacher’s Phone Booth.

This is the cautionary tale of New York publicist Stu Shepard (Colin Farrell) who, when not wheeling and dealing via his handheld, uses the city’s last remaining phone booth to call his girlfriend Pam (Katie Holmes) (his wife (Radha Mitchell) checks the mobile bills, y’see). But one day someone (the unmistakeable dulcet tones of Kiefer Sutherland) rings Stu at the booth – someone who’s offended by his exploitative lifestyle and loose morals, and who’s more than happy to express his displeasure with the high-powered sniper’s rifle currently trained on the booth…

Phone Booth takes place almost entirely in real-time and is set in a single street. The importance of the concept to the film, plus the presence of Sutherland, inevitably puts one in mind of a certain TV series running along vaguely similar lines. But this isn’t a cash-in on the success of 24 – this movie was made a couple of years ago, prior to Sutherland’s career renaissance, and was delayed firstly by the Twin Towers disaster and then by the Washington sniper. Looking on the bright side, though, the postponement has meant it cuts down further still the already tiny number of weeks this year when a Colin Farrell movie isn’t released (given his astonishing ubiquity, it’s a wonder the producers of X Men 2 didn’t cast him as Madrox the Multiple Man, but nobody’s perfect).

This is pretty much a two-hander of a film, centring on Farrell’s relationship with his tormentor. And both actors are impressive: Farrell’s initial dismissive ness towards the sniper slowly shading into alarm and then outright terror, as his smooth facade cracks and shatters. Sutherland is arguably even better, his voice dripping with malice and contempt. It’s a showy part (for all that he’s unseen) and he gives it the right mix of credibility and flamboyance. Not that there isn’t good work being done amongst the supporting cast – Forrest Whittaker is a reliable presence as a police captain trying to keep control of the situation, and Mitchell and Holmes are both good as the women in Farrell’s life.

But a film occurring within such a restricted locale and limited timeframe, and with such a small cast, could easily become rather static and repetitive, and as such what success Phone Booth achieves is down to the script and direction. Now I was never part of the ‘Joel Schumacher must die’ lobby of the late 90s – Batman and Robin was bad, but not that bad – but I’ve never been a great fan of his either. Here, though, he does a sterling job, constantly finding new angles and techniques to keep the story interesting (his use of split screen is another 24-ish touch). The same can be said for Larry Cohen’s script – Cohen has been a creator of inventively schlocky concepts for many years, including It’s Alive! and Q: The Winged Serpent – which sets up and runs with the concept with impressive slickness.

Alas, however, the end of the film is a bit disappointing. Farrell does his considerable best with the material he’s given, but it still doesn’t quite convince, and the end result is variously schmaltzy, lacklustre, and predictable. A credibility gap looms large as loose ends go untied and questions go unanswered. But in a film of this type the journey is the entertainment, not the destination. The film doesn’t outstay its welcome and for most of its (rather brief) running time manages to be gripping and enjoyable. It’s nice to find a Phone Booth that isn’t completely out of order.

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