Showing posts with label Monte Hellman. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Monte Hellman. Show all posts

Friday, June 10, 2011

To Hellman and Back

Road to Nowhere (2010) - Hellman
Photobucket
As a fan of Monte Hellman, the famed director of the 70's seminal counter-culture classics such as Two Lane Blacktop and Cockfighter, it is very hard for me to report to other Hellman fans that Road to Nowhere, his new film in more than twenty years, is...umm...absolutely...dreadful. There I said it. Such is the burden of being the messenger of bad news.


Prior to the screening Hellman told the audience the advice he got from someone once- 'never explain your film, never apologize for your film and never reimburse tickets.' He succeeded in getting couple of laughs out of that. In retrospect, he wasn't joking. It was his ominous preemptive strike.


The film concerns a young, esteemed Hollywood director Mitchell Haven (Tygh Runyan) adapting a real life story involving intrigue, corruption and double suicide, dug up and sold by a young blogger (Dominique Swain). Haven finds his muse in an amateurish actress named Laurel (Shannyn Sossamon) and becomes infatuated with her while the rest of the cast and crew get increasingly frustrated by his devotion to her.


Road to Nowhere fancies itself to be a meta movie of sorts. It's a movie within a movie, life imitating art imitating life. Laurel might be the real person she is portraying, so is the film's co-star (Cliff De Young). There is an insurance investigator/film consultant (Waylon Payne) who can't seem to distinguish fiction from reality.


Written by Steven Gaydos (executive editor of Variety), the film's Hollywood savvy, corny dialog is just too earnest to be taken as ironic. All the actors involved are not skilled enough to improvise with the given material, making their characters unbearably vapid.


Hellman's contemplation of filmmaking as realizing one's dream in the age of internet and HD photography, gets lost in its trite, tabloid worthy premise. As the film ends with an amazingly terrible song sung by some Bruce Springsteen impersonator, one realizes that even the greatest director needs a good script (doesn't have to be written by Rudy Wurlitzer) and good actors to pull off a DIY style vanity project to be halfway decent.

Thursday, February 10, 2011

Violence That is Pure and Clean

Cockfighter (1974) - Hellman
Photobucket
What makes a man? A set of balls? Perhaps a cock? Is it not what he says but what he does?

After losing a cockfight by shooting his mouth off against his long time rival (Harry Dean Stanton), Frank (Warren Oates) takes a vow of silence until he claims 'The Cockfighter of the Year' medal. For him, cockfighting is not about money, women, nor about cocks. It's not even about winning. It's his love for its simplicity - you give all you have in that ring, fight to the death, albeit second-hand. He wagers with his car, trailer, girlfriend, house, everything. Women don't understand him. They don't understand the violence that is pure and clean. No wonder his attitude toward them is take-it-or-leave-it.

There are two hilarious scenes that stick out- one with young Ed Begley Jr. as a hick farmboy who doesn't take a defeat well. And a stickup by group of presidential masked gunman at the motel where a makeshift cockfight takes place. Everyone has to take their pants off.

Laurie Bird reprises her role in Two Lane Blacktop here and Harry Dean is always dependable as leathery lowlife. But the film totally belongs to Oates. Relying on his body language and that good old toothy smile, he demonstrates his acting range as a single minded Hellman anti-hero without being someone other than Warren Oates.