John Landis has made a handful of capital-G Great films. Animal House, Blues Brothers, An American Werewolf In London (one of my personal favorites)... But he also has the unfortunate (though deserved?) reputation for being reckless and cavalier. He's responsible (though not solely) for one of the most horrific accidents on a film shoot in the last century. During a night shoot for a scene in the 1985 Twight Zone: The Movie there was some miscommunication between a helicopter pilot, a special effects supervisor and Landis. Three actors (including two children) died when either the explosives went off prematurely and nicked the helicopter's blade or Landis' hassling of the pilot to go "Lower! Lower!" caused the helicopter to fall out of control. It's a pretty haunting story and it's trial received quite a bit of attention. The families of the deceased eventually settled out of court and Landis went on to direct some more classic films (Three Amigos!, Coming To America, and Michael Jackson's "Thriller" music video).
Personally, I can't help but look for insensitive traits when I watched Slasher last night, a documentary Landis made in 2004. It's about one of the oldest and most beloved American professions, selling cars. The film follows Michael Bennett, the "Slasher", a special salesman who is brought in to struggling car dealerships across the country to help them move their inventory with a special "Slasher" sale. Bennett is a wiry and wired figure who has a reputation for being the best salesman in the country, once selling "400 cars in four days!" exclaims an employee at the used car dealership where the film takes place. But Memphis in 2004 is a tough sell and the film shows what appears to be one of the toughest weekends for the "Slasher."
Landis humanizes Bennett by showing his departure from his wife and two kids at the beginning of the film and spending time in Bennett's hotel room at night as he tries to cope with being away from them so often. But Landis also fuels the "Slasher" fire by filming him on many a drunken rave, one in particular the night before the sale in a parking structure where he yells up and down like a madman as his drunk friends and associates just sit back and watch. In fact, Bennett is drunk pretty much the moment that he steps off the lot. And there's a couple of scenes at night that seem like Landis is pushing him a little too much with the drinking and the confessing. But maybe Bennett is just happy to have someone actually listening.
This glimpse into the life of a car salesman - in particular, Bennett - is interesting, funny and at times very affecting. Landis follows a couple of the buyers off the lot and one girl who won a raffle for an $88 car gets the thing home only to have it fall apart in her driveway. We linger with her as she watches her brother and father try and figure out what's wrong with it, her face a thousand miles away from the huge shocked smile she had when her raffle number was called. And Bennett's closing monologue about how a line from Tombstone has really hit home is especially moving. But along the way, we get lied to. By Landis and his editors and by Bennett. So maybe Landis was clever to start the film off with television clips of Presidents Nixon, Reagan, Bush I, Clinton, Bush II lying directly into the camera. It's part of the American experience to lie to the public. Some people just make a living doing it.
Personally, I can't help but look for insensitive traits when I watched Slasher last night, a documentary Landis made in 2004. It's about one of the oldest and most beloved American professions, selling cars. The film follows Michael Bennett, the "Slasher", a special salesman who is brought in to struggling car dealerships across the country to help them move their inventory with a special "Slasher" sale. Bennett is a wiry and wired figure who has a reputation for being the best salesman in the country, once selling "400 cars in four days!" exclaims an employee at the used car dealership where the film takes place. But Memphis in 2004 is a tough sell and the film shows what appears to be one of the toughest weekends for the "Slasher."Landis humanizes Bennett by showing his departure from his wife and two kids at the beginning of the film and spending time in Bennett's hotel room at night as he tries to cope with being away from them so often. But Landis also fuels the "Slasher" fire by filming him on many a drunken rave, one in particular the night before the sale in a parking structure where he yells up and down like a madman as his drunk friends and associates just sit back and watch. In fact, Bennett is drunk pretty much the moment that he steps off the lot. And there's a couple of scenes at night that seem like Landis is pushing him a little too much with the drinking and the confessing. But maybe Bennett is just happy to have someone actually listening.
This glimpse into the life of a car salesman - in particular, Bennett - is interesting, funny and at times very affecting. Landis follows a couple of the buyers off the lot and one girl who won a raffle for an $88 car gets the thing home only to have it fall apart in her driveway. We linger with her as she watches her brother and father try and figure out what's wrong with it, her face a thousand miles away from the huge shocked smile she had when her raffle number was called. And Bennett's closing monologue about how a line from Tombstone has really hit home is especially moving. But along the way, we get lied to. By Landis and his editors and by Bennett. So maybe Landis was clever to start the film off with television clips of Presidents Nixon, Reagan, Bush I, Clinton, Bush II lying directly into the camera. It's part of the American experience to lie to the public. Some people just make a living doing it.
falls in love with a girl, Lila (played by May's daughter Jeannie Berlin) in a bar. All they say to each other is "hello" before a short montage moves them straight to the altar. The words of the priest fade in and out as if Lenny is only half listening. But then their honeymoon! And the long drive down to Miami Beach. Needless to say, on their trip he finds his wife to be much more than the late night impression he got one evening in New York City. She can't sing. She eats a lot of junk food. She's childishly naive and stubborn and ends up with a debilitating sunburn their first day on the beach. All of this may sound broad and rather contrived but it's Grodin's suppressed annoyance and disbelief in all these tiny revelations that make it genuinely hilarious as opposed to Farrelly Bros. 
Paranoid Park (dir. by Gus Van Sant) "Best Film of the Year"
Has gotten better with each repeat viewing. More Undertow than George Washington as far as Green goes but that's not a slight. Tim Orr's gorgeous cinematography floats through scenes of awkardly realistic violence until the end where Seth Rogen is fucking flying around the warehouse. Little touches like the young overweight Hispanic girl in a swimsuit staring at James Franco crying into a sandwich and the weightlifting neighbor of Rogen's girlfriend show that Green still has an eye for the beautiful oddities of life. The walking through the forest interlude stands as the most poetic sequence in the film.
Jean-Claude is incredible in this movie and its a shame it didn't get as much attention as the other comeback role this year. But this isn't so much a comeback as a realization of the skills that Van Damme has. He's funny, sad and beaten by the end of the film and vulnerable in a way no other star was this year, except maybe ...
Beeps and blips bounce back and forth over a sparse drum beat created by the generally reviled Roland TR-808 drum machine. Sampled vocals create a mournful choir and the occasional chord on piano drops. The light among this desolate arrangement? The melodies of auto-tuned Kanye West. A question arises - the same one that came to mind when I heard Charlie Kaufman would be directing a feature film of his own - why? 
she was one of the first people i met here at university. sake bombs, stuffed calamari, grand roll. a beautiful beginning. Denny and i enjoy the views of a SI swimsuit program on TNT during dinner. then back to the apartment, with pabst in hand. then to the big red house where Brown, Peabody and Monsieur Rager have nicked some champagne from the inside 'sophomoric' party (in all the senses they assure me). eventually some roomies show up and we're off to an old parisian amie, Sia. 
around the side i use an adjacent fence to hopefully propel me over the steel arrows. the second fence begins to sway and i go for it, slicing the side of palm under my pinky open. 
After some more slaps William starts to gurgle and mumbles, "Awwwgh! It GHurrts!" more of the same for the rest of the night. i got out at about 4 30 to find Kevin, Will, and Chelsey waiting outside to give me a lift home.