Radio Days (1987)

Director: Woody Allen

Starring: Mia Farrow, Seth Green, Julie Kavner, Dianne Wiest, Michael Tucker, Danny Aiello, Tony Roberts, Jeff Daniels, Seth Green, Woody Allen (narrator)

Since the invention of the television, and other visual and auditory electronic devices, the radio, while it hasn’t been phased out, has taken on a decidedly smaller role in our lives from the one it used to play. That, in essence, is one of the main driving points of “Radio Days,” which is first and foremost a movie about nostalgia for a bygone era. Having been born during the television age, I don’t think that this movie was made with my generation (or the one after mine) in mind. Most of the vignettes are memories the main character associates with radio broadcasts of significant value which he remembers hearing as a child. Some of their real-life counterparts I know of from anecdotes I’ve heard, but I was decades away from being born when they were originally broadcast. I do like it when the TV airs reruns of older shows, or when the radio plays the songs that were hits when my parents were in their teens/early 20’s. As such, this too is not out of a sense of nostalgia, instead it is out of good taste. Same reason I’ve been on this Woody Allen marathon as of late, of which “Radio Days” is the culmination.

As the narrator, director Woody Allen provides the voice of the adult version of the main character for most of the vignettes, a redheaded Jewish boy named Joe (Seth Green) growing up in late 1930’s/early 40’s New York. One of these includes his quest to obtain a secret decoder ring, something to which most young boys can relate. We all tried to pester our parents for that toy we just HAD to have; some of us were just more persuasive than others. Joe’s parents (Julie Kavner, Michael Tucker) are not so easily persuaded, and as the adult Joe glumly reports, he never got that ring. My, how did he ever survive without it?

Occasionally, the radio holds onto the attention of our cast with startling news broadcasts… most of which are genuine. One instance in which the news is fantasy is the infamous “War of the Worlds” broadcast, interrupting an otherwise lovely evening for Joe’s Aunt Bea (Dianne Wiest), revealing her date to be a total coward. The parts about World War II are presented seriously, as well they should be. Maybe my favorite sequence, though, ends up being the news of the little girl trapped down inside a well. This is an otherwise grim situation which is reported so dramatically that it results in that special kind of uncomfortable guffaw. You know you shouldn’t laugh, but you can’t help it.

The parts of “Radio Days” I’m not so fond of are those which revolve around the character of Sally White (Mia Farrow). Whether she’s getting trapped on a rooftop, or whether we’re following her attempts at becoming a radio star, I just want her to go away. It’s that voice. That horrible, godawful voice! Oh, Sally sings just fine, but any time she speaks, that high-pitched, ear-splitting sound emanating from her mouth makes me long for someone to scratch their nails on a chalkboard. Based on her stellar performances in “Rosemary’s Baby,” “Broadway Danny Rose” and “The Purple Rose of Cairo,” I know full well that Mia Farrow is capable of much better things, which is what makes the character of Sally White that much more of a disappointment.

Absolutely not disappointing is the collection of actors with whom Allen has previously worked that make their return here. In addition to Mia Farrow, Dianne Wiest and Julie Kavner, “Radio Days” also features Tony Roberts, Wallace Shawn, Danny Aiello, Jeff Daniels and Diane Keaton. I especially appreciate the return of Keaton, even if it is for just the one song. Wallace Shawn is amusing as the radio actor who provides the voice of the macho superhero, the Masked Avenger, a role he could not have played on television.

The whole point to “Radio Days,” as I have said, is nostalgia for a bygone era. Because I do not share in that nostalgia, my interests in the movie are in whether it is funny (which it is sparingly) and whether the story is interesting. Because there is no one cohesive tale but a series of short happenings, that’s a little harder to grade. Overall, color me underwhelmed, which is a sad thing to say given that this is the film with which I end my Woody Allen marathon. Nostalgia, at its core, is all about looking back at fond memories. The movie series I’m about to switch gears back to (given that tomorrow is another “Friday the 13th”) is nowhere as sophisticated as a Woody Allen movie, but it does hold that certain fondness to which I am referring. I’ll always remember exactly how old I was when I saw them for the first time. I don’t know if I’ll be able to say the same of “Radio Days.”

Hannah and Her Sisters (1986)

Director: Woody Allen

Starring (in alphabetical order): Woody Allen, Michael Caine, Mia Farrow, Carrie Fisher, Barbara Hershey, Lloyd Nolan, Maureen O’Sullivan, Daniel Stern, Max von Sydow, Dianne Wiest

Once again, I have found myself in the position of sitting down to watch a wildly popular film directed by Woody Allen without any idea what to expect and, in all likelihood, requiring many future viewings to truly appreciate it. This is not a knock against his work. Far from it. There’s just so much going on in the multiple plot threads of “Hannah and Her Sisters” that it’s not easily digestible.

Although it’s up in the air just who one could consider as the main character or characters, it is certain that each of the three main story arcs (which run concurrently over a period of two years) has a connection back to Hannah (Mia Farrow). The first one follows Hannah’s current husband, Elliot (Michael Caine) and his irrational but passionate pursuit of her sister Lee (Barbara Hershey), eventually resulting in an affair. Although Lee is not married, she has been living with the artist Frederick (Max von Sydow) for five years. Lee’s problem with Frederick is that his reclusive nature is causing him to rely on her less as a partner in a relationship and more as his last remaining tether to the outside world. This is a responsibility which Lee does not want on her shoulders.

The second arc features Hannah’s ex-husband Mickey (Woody Allen), a television writer. Most of his story is told in flashback, including the reasons for his divorce from Hannah and a subsequent date with her other sister, Holly (Dianne Wiest), a drug-addicted wannabe actress. To say that the date does not go well is truly an understatement. That they do not come to blows is a miracle. Mickey has much bigger things to worry about besides an ex-wife, their twin children via artificial insemination, or her crazy sister. He’s worried half to death that he’s got a brain tumor. When he’s reassured this isn’t the case, his moment of relief is overcome by a new problem: the thought that life is meaningless. Turning to religion proves a fruitless endeavor. At his lowest point, Mickey attempts suicide, but even that doesn’t go as planned. Going to the movies to see the Marx Brothers in “Duck Soup,” he is able to discover what for him is the meaning of life. Personally, “Animal Crackers” would have done it for me, but that’s a discussion for another time.

Holly, with whom Mickey has a second, more successful date, is the focus of the third arc. Her biggest problem is that she feels as though she’s constantly in competition with everyone. In some cases, she’s right. She frequently argues with Hannah and vies for the affection of David (Sam Waterston) against her friend and fellow actress, April (Carrie Fisher). She is also in line for a part in a Broadway play, again losing to April. Finally, when she finds her niche as a writer, the first story she comes up with is one her sister criticizes heavily, accusing Holly of basing it on her and Elliot’s marriage. Of course, Hannah, still completely unaware that Elliot and Lee had been seeing each other behind her back, has only theories as to how Holly could know such intimate details if she (Hannah) is not the one who’s been feeding them to her sister.

Woody Allen’s Oscar-winning screenplay is filled with a lot of fantastic scenes. My favorite is the one in which the three sisters have gone out to eat together. The camera rotates around the table, and as Hannah and Holly bicker with one another, Lee’s growing unease about her own situation is finally getting to her, and she finally has an outburst of her own. Her sisters of course don’t understand where this is coming from, since they don’t have the full story, nor will they. Lee can’t bring herself to confess to her sisters what she and Elliot have been up to. It’s her problem and she’s got to resolve it herself, one way or another.

“Hannah and Her Sisters” is also bolstered by one of Woody Allen’s best casts. It is the only one of his movies which managed to snag two Academy Awards for acting, for Michael Caine and Dianne Wiest. Of the three main story arcs, the one which interests me the most is the Elliot/Lee affair, and it’s all thanks to terrific performances from Michael Caine, who I’ll watch in anything (even his bad movies), and Barbara Hershey (who, among other things, featured in my favorite two-part episode of “Kung Fu”). Even as their relationship threatens to hurt others whom they love if they’re discovered, you can’t help but sympathize with Elliot and Lee in their mutual quest to add some joy to their lives.

Many have ranked “Hannah and Her Sisters” either at or near the top of their lists of favorite Woody Allen films. While I can’t do the same… at least not yet… I can at least recognize that this is a fine film worthy of everyone’s attention. It’s one of those movies which seems better upon reflection. This is a story in which each of its characters searches for an answer. Each of them finds one, even if it wasn’t what they expected. I expect I’ll find mine after I’ve had the chance to see this movie one or two more times.

The Purple Rose of Cairo (1985)

Director: Woody Allen

Starring: Mia Farrow, Jeff Daniels, Danny Aiello

Movies are, for me, the greatest form of escapism that there is. No matter what’s going on with my life or with the rest of the world, I can always sit down to a good movie, immerse myself in the world presented on the screen, and be totally at peace. Once you’ve found one that you really, really love, there’s a certain amount of comfort that goes along with knowing that the events in the movie will always play out the same way. Though I’ve only seen it the one time (so far), I already know that “The Purple Rose of Cairo” is one of those beautiful films which I really, really love. Every time I see it from now on, it will always run for 82 minutes and play out as it should. But the story it presents has nothing at all to do with order or control.

Cecilia (Mia Farrow) is the world’s clumsiest waitress living in New Jersey during the Great Depression. Work sucks, sure, but life at home for Cecilia is even worse. She is married to Monk (Danny Aiello), a drunken and abusive waste of human flesh, whom she has constantly threatened with leaving but never follows through. Where else would she go? At the moment, the only place where she can relax is in the movie theater. A new release from RKO Radio Pictures has caught her attention, a romantic adventure story titled “The Purple Rose of Cairo.” In particular, Cecilia is taken with the archeologist Tom Baxter (Jeff Daniels). She enjoys the movie so much that she goes back to see it over and over again. At Cecilia’s fifth screening, something extraordinary and thoroughly impossible happens: Tom begins to talk directly to her, impressed that she really seems to like his movie, and expressing the same attraction to her that she feels for him. Suddenly, Tom walks right off the black & white screen and into Cecilia’s bright and colorful world!

The sight of a fictional character becoming self-aware and breaking the fourth wall causes some of the other people in the theater to faint. Others are frustrated, demanding their ticket money back. Hilariously, the characters on the screen are just as flummoxed as everyone else. All that they are, all that they know how to be is limited to the narrative of “The Purple Rose of Cairo.” Tom Baxter’s departure has created a level of chaos that neither the characters on the screen nor the studio executives were prepared for. After this initial setup, I wondered to myself we were going to dance around the fact that this would not have been the only copy of the movie in circulation. In fact, it turns out that other theaters have sent in reports that other characters have tried and failed to walk off the screen as Tom Baxter did in New Jersey. If somehow they eventually were to succeed, there could be dozens of Tom Baxters running around! In an attempt to return things to normal, the producer of the film brings Gil Shepherd (Jeff Daniels), the actor whose performance brings life to the character of Tom Baxter, to New Jersey to track down Tom and convince him to go back to the movie.

Tom seems incapable of being persuaded to leave our world. Although he has no real money, no idea how to start a car, and only the most basic concept of love-making, he has fallen in love with Cecilia and that’s enough for him. Things get confused when Cecilia bumps into Gil and initially mistakes him for Tom. They get to know each other and, soon, form an attraction. Cecilia has gone from no one wanting her to two men wanting her… and, as she points out, they’re both the same man. Well, only superficially. Gil is a career-minded opportunist, whereas the character he plays is a devoted and incorruptible man, one who is also pretty handy in a fight seeing as how he can’t be physically harmed. His heart however, is just as fragile as yours or mine.

Director Woody Allen was really thinking outside the box on this one. Although “Purple Rose” is by no means the only movie to have ever come up with the idea of a movie within a movie where characters literally are leaping off of the screen, it may be the one that does it best. It’s one of Allen’s best scripts, and also one of his best casts. Any lingering prejudices I had towards Mia Farrow’s career are now gone after seeing this movie. She had me that invested in Cecilia’s plight. What can you say about Jeff Daniels except that “he’s the man” (“Dumb and Dumber To” notwithstanding)? Funny thing is, the part of Tom Baxter/Gil Shepherd almost wasn’t his. Woody Allen had originally cast Michael Keaton in the part(s), and worked with him for a few days until it was realized that he wasn’t the right fit. Jeff Daniels got the sweet end of that deal, replacing Keaton and turning in a fine double performance. He’s got this look about him that not only says “leading man,” but that he can easily fit himself into a different era. Also great in supporting roles are Dianne Wiest as a hooker intrigued by Tom Baxter’s naivety, and Edward Herrmann as Henry, one of Baxter’s “Purple Rose” co-stars.

Movies have definitely become a big part of my life. There are certain characters over the years which I’ve grown quite attached to. Some include female characters whom I’ve had thoughts about which are totally NSFW. I would probably crap little blue cubes if they ever acknowledged me and stepped out into the real world. Part of the reason why I’ve only ever been to a small handful of conventions in my life is because of that barrier that stands between us and the world of fantasy. Once you’ve broken that barrier by meeting the actor or actress, it makes it real.

31 Screams in October, #5: The Lost Boys (1987)

Director: Joel Schumacher

Starring: Corey Feldman, Jami Gertz, Corey Haim, Edward Herrmann, Barnard Hughes, Jason Patric, Kiefer Sutherland, Dianne Wiest

Moving to an entirely new town must be very difficult, especially when you’re young. I say this because that’s not something I’ve ever personally had to do. The same cannot be said for brothers Michael (Jason Patric) and Sam Emerson (Corey Haim) who have moved to the town of Santa Carla, California, which also just so happens to be the “Murder Capital of the World.” The two have moved there along with their mother Lucy (Dianne Wiest) to live with her father (Barnard Hughes) on the outskirts of town.

As Michael and Sam head into town with their mother one night, the two split off in different directions. Each, once he gets where he’s going, recieves hints that there may be something “batty” going on in Santa Carla. Sam heads off to a comic book store, the place he feels most at home. There, he meets the Frog brothers, Edgar (Corey Feldman) and Alan (Jamison Newlander) who suggest that the vampire comics are what Sam should buy. Sam insists he doesn’t like horror comics, but the Frog brothers swear that they are more like a survival guide than entertainment.

Michael’s journey through the dark of the night seems innocent enough at first. He meets a beautiful young girl named Star (Jami Gertz) who, Michael observes, must have had hippie parents just like his. The innocence is short-lived once Star’s boyfriend, David (Kiefer Sutherland) and his motorcycle-riding gang show up. You would think this would be the part where the jealous boyfriend beats up our protagonist for so much as looking at “his woman,” but here it’s much worse than that. After nearly riding off a cliff in a drag race with David, Michael goes with the group to their underground lair, a long-forgotten part of the city swallowed up by the big earthquake of 1906. There, Michael is encouraged to drink wine with them. Star pleads with him not to, but Michael does anyway. It’s the cool thing to do.

What Michael doesn’t know, and what Star was trying to tell him, is that the red stuff in the bottle isn’t composed of grape juice and alcohol. Star later explains that the two of them, along with a much younger boy named Laddie, are all half-vampires (meaning that they haven’t killed anyone yet). Michael was supposed to be her first kill, but she’s too into him now. His resistance to the thirst for blood weakening, Michael looks to Sam and the Frog brothers for help. They explain that killing the head vampire should restore any half-vampires to normal. The question remains: Who is the head vampire? The answer may, or it may not surprise you.

Though clearly not a good choice to direct any “Batman” movies, Joel Schumacher was the perfect choice to bring this modern update on the classic vampire tale to life. More fun than scary, the only truly frightening thing about “The Lost Boys” is Kiefer Sutherland’s mullet. Gotta love the Peter Pan references, from the film’s title to the “never grow up, never die” mantra. There’s not too much to be said about the acting, other than to say that Corey Feldman overacts to an hilarious extreme. That shouldn’t take you by surprise, but in his own way, it does make Feldman stand out. When the franchise went to direct-to-video in 2008 and 2010, Feldman’s character would take over as the series’ lead.

One of the better things about “The Lost Boys,” and no doubt one of the keys to its popularity, is the music. While I absolutely love the appropriate inclusion of “People are Strange,” I would prefer that they had used the version by The Doors. To their credit, the cover band goes out of their way to sound like the genuine article. Of course, the song everyone focuses on is Gerard McMann (a.k.a. G Tom Mac)’s “Cry Little Sister,” the movie’s theme song. “Cry Little Sister” has been covered so many times over the years that it’s not even funny. The version by Aiden is the one heard in the direct-to-video-sequels, but it’s the heavier. louder version by Seasons After that I like.

The status of “The Lost Boys” as a cult favorite is more than secure. It is so popular still that some may not be aware that it wasn’t even the only horror movie about a vampire gang released in the year 1987…