Hudson Hawk (Michael Lehmann, 1991)

While it's not quite Heathers 2, Hudson Hawk is, by far, the only film that I've come across that comes anywhere close to doing a half decent job of capturing Sandra Bernhard's face-melting beauty in a manner I would deem satisfactory. What's that? Why did I compare this action-adventure film to the non-existent sequel to Heathers? Oh, because it's directed by Michael Lehmann and co-written by Daniel Waters. Now, it's easy to dismiss the film's Michael Lehmann did after Heathers (40 Days and 40 Nights... ugh). But the fact that Daniel Waters (Happy Campers), the reason Heathers is remembered so fondly to this day, is involved caused me to think that their follow up might be just as magical. (You are aware that the film stars Bruce Willis and Andie MacDowell, right?) Yeah, I'm aware. However, the prospect of watching Sandra Bernhard and Richard E. Grant spew campy/mildly glib dialogue that was written by Daniel Waters piqued my interest. Sure, it took me over twenty years for my interest to get so piqued that I actually sat down and watched it from start to finish. But still, better late than never. (Are you sure it isn't "peaked"?)  Nah, I think it's "piqued." Anyway, on top of boasting Sandra Bernhard at the height of her sexiness (she lounges in a leggy manner at one point while listening to "The Power" by Snap! on a Walkman - I know, 'nuff said), the film features David Caruso in Andie MacDowell drag and...

(Stop right there. You need to back the fuck up. Did you say, David Caruso in Andie MacDowell drag?) Yep. (Call me a sexually confused armadillo, but my genitals just exploded.) Is that a good thing? (Oh, you better believe it's a good thing.) Okay. But I should warn you, David Caruso is only in Andie MacDowell drag for about ten seconds.

Personally, I would have cast David Caruso as Anna Baragli, a nun who works undercover for The Vatican, and would have cast Andie MacDowell as... well, I wouldn't have cast her in the first place... you know, because she sucks. But that's neither here nor there. I think most people will agree that David Caruso would have been amazing as this film's Andie MacDowell-esque romantic lead.

As I was saying.... On top of Sandra Bernhard at the height of sexiness and David Caruso in Andie MacDowell drag, what else does this film got going for it? Damn, that's a good question. Maybe I should have thought this through.

Oh, if you mention a song to Bruce Willis' titular character, he'll tell you its exact running time. (Huh?) Let's say someone blurts out the title of a song, like, oh, I don't know, "Rhythm Is a Dancer" by Snap!, he would say, without much hesitation, five minutes, thirty-two seconds. It's a cute character trait. And it kept things interesting while we waited for Sandra Bernhard to show up.

The same can be said for Bruce Willis' obsession with cappuccino, his beverage of choice. Which he can never seem to enjoy in peace (circumstances beyond his control always seem to interfere just as he's about to take his first sip).

What else? Um. You know what? Until I come up with some other things I liked about this film, here's a brief-ish recap of the film's plot.

All set on becoming a spatula salesmen upon being released from prison, cat burglar extraordinaire Hudson Hawk (Bruce Willis) is immediately harassed by mobsters and other underworld types who want to exploit his unique talents for they're own personal gain. Teaming up with his partner in crime, Tommy Five-Tone (Danny Aiello), Hudson's first job involves stealing Da Vinci's Sforza, a horse statue.

Oh, and instead of showing Hudson and Tommy simply steal a statue, they have them do so while singing "Swinging on a Star." Which, I'll admit, was somewhat entertaining. It definitely put a new twist on the cliched movie heist sequence.

For reasons that escape me at the moment, the action quickly moves to Rome, where Hudson Hawk is embroiled in a conspiracy to steal even more Da Vinci artifacts. Working simultaneously for the C.I.A. (lead by James Coburn) and two self-described super-villains named Darwin (Richard E. Grant) and Minerva Maryflower (Sandra Bernhard), Hudson Hawk constantly struggles to keep the two groups off his back as he tries to woo Andie MacDowell, a Vatican spy masquerading as a tour guide.

If he can't woo Andie MacDowell, he can always settle for David Caruso in Andie MacDowell drag. Playing a C.I.A. agent called "Kit Kat" (his fellow agents are all named after candy bars), David Caruso's character is a master of disguise and can be seen in multiple disguises throughout the film. My favourite, of course, being his Andie MacDowell costume.

Speaking of costumes, legendary 1980s costume designer Marilyn Vance (Some Kind of Wonderful, Streets of Fire, Fast Times, etc.) has a field day sheathing Sandra Bernhard's lithe frame in a series of killer frocks.

Wearing a total of five outfits (six, if you include the bondage get-up she can be seen wearing in a slideshow), Sandra Bernhard wears wide brimmed hats, turbans, and funky earrings. And dresses that expose her collarbone and rib cage.

(What about her legs?) Relax, I'm getting to those.

Never not the focal point of the five scenes she's in, director Michael Lehmann does an admirable job of making sure Sandra Bernhard's yummy stems are always on display. Which, according to my logic, is reason enough to recommend Hudson Hawk.

Now, I know this film was ravaged by critics and a box office flop when it hit theatres in 1991. But I can't help the masses of the early 1990s had no clue how to properly appreciate the off-kilter splendour that is Sandra Bernhard. Seriously, though, her character's sort of heterosexual relationship with Richard E. Grant is a wonder to behold. In fact, if I was a studio exec, I would have said, fuck the box office, we're green-lighting a spin-off about the wacky adventures of Darwin and Minerva Mayflower and Bunny, their ball-obsessed dog. In conclusion... (Thank God.) the movie isn't as terrible as I thought it would be. Which, I guess, is a good thing.

Fingers (James Toback, 1978)

I'll get to the meat and potatoes this off-kilter slice of Soho-shot weirdness in a minute. I just want to give a quick tip to all those who want to avoid seeing Harvey Keitel's penis. When I saw that Fingers starred Harvey Keitel, I went ahead and assumed that his penis would make an appearance at some point or another. In light of this assumption, I decided to turn on the closed captions... you know, figuring that they might obscure Harvey Keitel's penis from view. And you know what? I think it might have worked. Now, granted, Harvey Keitel's penis could have remained hidden in the shadows (where it belongs) with or without the closed captions switched on, but I wasn't going to take any chances, as I've been forced to look at Harvey Keitel's penis in countless other movies. Just in case your version of this movie doesn't come with closed captions, I recommend looking away from the screen during the urologist scene, as the chances that Harvey Keitel's penis might show up in this scene are pretty high. I mean, I'm no doctor, but I think "urologist" literally means dick doctor in Latin. Oh, and in case you're wondering, yes, I play bass in a Portland-based punk band called Harvey Keitel's Penis. We've opened for PMS 84 (I have a major crush on the bass player) and The Sweaty Taints a couple of times over the past year and have been described as a cross between Smash Mouth and the  Dayglo Abortions. In other words, we're pretty awful.

Okay, that takes care of that. Now, let's talk a little about Fingers, shall we? First off, what I liked most about it was the fact no-one acts like a normal human being. It's true, I'm a sucker for films that shirk normalcy, but this one, written and directed by James Toback, shirks it more than I'm used to.

Hell, even Jim Brown, who plays a pimp named "Dreems," doesn't seem to be playing with a full deck. And it's got nothing to do with the fact that he's wearing a pink shirt either. There's just something about him that seems off.

As the former running back's scene with Harvey Keitel went along, this thought would repeatedly pop into my head: Why hasn't Jim Brown punched Harvey Keitel in the face yet? If I was Jim Brown, I would have punched Harvey Keitel in the face the moment I laid eyes on him. Though, to be fair, if I was Jim Brown, I would be punching people in the face left, right and center. But he doesn't... punch Harvey Keitel in the face. And this, as you might expect, vexed the living shit out of me.

Of course, I don't mind being vexed. However, some viewers might find these kind of unorthodox shenanigans* to be off-putting.

It's one thing to have characters behave strangely, but to have them do so in a mob movie is another story. Of course, it's not really a mob movie. Sure, half the cast is made up of actors who either appeared in The Godfather or would go on to star on The Sopranos, and the film takes place in New York City, but I don't know that many mob movies that feature lead characters who carry around a cassette player blasting songs by The Drifters, The Jamies and The Chiffons.

Mob debt collector by day, concert pianist also by day (he sleeps at night), Jimmy (Harvey Keitel) has two passions: Classical music and pop music from the 1950s and 1960s. Well, he three passions. The one's I just mentioned, and sex.

At first I thought that Jimmy preferred to have sex with women. But then I saw the way he eye-balled those guys at the bar while having lunch with Ben (Michael Gazzo), his shylock father. Is he gay? Or is he merely bi-curious? Who knows. I do know this, Ben's "cream" suit is blindingly yellow, his girlfriend (Georgette Mosbacher) is stacked, and he's got two jobs for his son.

The first job involves collecting four thousand clams from Luchino (Lenny Montana), a hulking pizzeria owner. Not that I sit around listening to 1960s pop music, but "Angel of the Morning" by Merrilee Rush and the Turnabouts will never be same for me after seeing Jimmy pistol whip Luca Brasi in the kitchen of his pizza joint in front of his son as the song blares from his boombox.

The second job... Um, this job, it turns out, is going to be a little more complicated. Sure, it basically involves collecting money that is owed. But Patsy Riccamonza (Tony Sirico) is no pizza chef.

In the meantime, Jimmy tries to enlighten a fellow restaurant diner about music after he tells him to turn his stereo off while having lunch with his father. I know, who in their right mind would confront Harvey Keitel over something as trivial as loud music? But you've got to remember, this is New York City, and it's 1978. In other words, everyone is either mentally-ill or has a severe death wish.

Telling the irate diner: "This is the Jamies, man! 'Summertime, Summertime!' - the most musically inventive song of 1958!" doesn't seem to placate the situation, as a mild shoving match ensues.

His father backs him up, but he does question the logic of playing "Summertime, Summertime" in the middle of winter in the next scene.
 

The other key relationship, if you can call it that, at the center of the movie is the one between Jimmy and Carol (Tisa Farrow), a mysterious sculptress, who James Toback describes as having a "distracted luminosity." Personally, I would classify Carol's disposition more as having an aloof radiance. Nevertheless, she's a strange bird. However, since Jimmy is just as strange (he consoles distraught homeless women in his spare time), they're technically made for each other. The key word being "technically." Nothing in Fingers is straight-forward.
  

As he's trying to procure his pop's money from Riccamonza and penetrate Carol's [hopefully] diaphragm-free pussy (don't ask), Jimmy is agonizing over an upcoming audition at Carnegie Hall. While 1950s/1960s pop music plays a vital role in the film, Bach's Toccata in E minor (the piece he's scheduled to perform), it turns out, is the bane of Jimmy's existence.
  

Figuring that he's pretty much got the Bach piece down pat, he shifts his focus back to Riccamonza. Or, I should say, he shifts his focus to Tanya Roberts, Riccamonza's main squeeze. Tracking him down to a fancy hotel, Jimmy decides to... I'm at a loss for words here. I mean, how does one accurately describe the "sex scene" between Jimmy and Tanya Roberts? Oh, wait. I got it. The "sex scene" between Jimmy and Tanya Roberts in Fingers is one of the worst, most awkward "sex scenes" in movie history. In fact, it's so repellent, I don't even feel like extolling the skimpy virtues of Tanya's super-chic dusty rose bikini.

If you thought that was repellent, wait until you see Jim Brown knock two women's heads together (Three Stooges-style) in a later scene. You know what? I take that back. The sight of Jim Brown roughing up his "bitches" in a comical manner has nothing on the Jimmy-Tanya Roberts "sex scene." I mean, my God, that was some ugly ass shit. Even his pick up line, if you could call it that, made my skin crawl.

Just to let you know. While, yes, I'm currently using a ton of negative-sounding adjectives in correlation with this movie. This, believe it or not, is still a positive review. To put it another way, I loved this movie. Genital warts and all. Seriously, I think Harvey Keitel's character has genital warts. Since we don't get an eyeful of his cock and balls, an exact diagnosis is not forthcoming. At least not from me. And I think everyone should be thankful for that.

* I'm slowly reintroducing the word "shenanigans" back into my vocabulary (the movie Juno turned me off the word to such a degree, that I had it banned)