Volume 8 - After Hours and the Sleepless Nightmare

The last three double features we've talked about have covered three of the best topics humanity has to offer - faith, love, and honor. But life doesn't always go that well for people, especially us ordinary folks. In fact, I'd be willing to theorize that life is best summed up by an ancient Chinese proverb I once heard. It goes something like this:

"So no one told you life was gonna be this way. Your life's a joke, you're broke, your love life's D.O.A. It's like you're always stuck in second gear. When it hasn't been your day, your week, your month, or even your year."

The thing the movies don't always tell you about life is....wait.....just a minute....

OK, you're right. That was the theme song from Friends. I got mixed up for a minute there. To be fair...it sounds like Confucius.

I don't see another author here; I'm running with it.

The thing the movies don't always tell you about life is that it might not work out the way you expect it to. Sometimes you go looking for adventure and you think you're gonna get to the chorus of the Friends theme song and you think someone's gonna start screaming how they'll be there for you (when the rain starts to pour). But if that doesn't happen, you might end up stuck in a situation where you've got to improvise. Especially if it's late at night, when you might start to think you're living in a nightmare.

This week we're going on a couple of late night adventures with a couple of ordinary guys. They won't be adventures that go the way their characters expect them to, and that's part of what makes them so entertaining for us viewers.

HOW THIS WORKS
Step 1) I pick a movie.
Step 2) I tell you about the movie.
Step 3) I tell you what we're looking for in a double feature movie.
Step 4) Another movie!
Step 5) Victory!

After Hours

1985, Directed by Martin Scorsese

Paul Hackett (Griffin Dunne) is a word processor. Which means, I think, that he types things for a living. And we don't even meet Paul when he's typing things, we meet him when he's teaching a co-worker, who just happens to be Bronson Pinchot, aka Cousin Balki from Perfect Strangers, how to type things. Does that sound like an exciting job to you? I mean, I like typing things (obviously) but that's because I'm writing them. Typing other people's things? And teaching people how to type? That just doesn't seem too fun to me.

Paul doesn't seem enthusiastic about his job either. That night, while eating at a diner near his apartment, Paul finds himself striking up a conversation with a beautiful woman named Marcy (Rosanna Arquette). She's much more interesting than word processing, and we can quickly see that he's intrigued by her presence in his life. She gives him the phone number to the apartment she's staying in, and he doesn't wait for a better opportunity -he calls her up the same night.

Marcy started this conversation with Paul because she loves the book he's reading, and that book tells us something about Paul's outlook on life right now. The book is Henry Miller's once banned Tropic of Cancer, which details the author's struggles with feeling alone and feeling irrelevant in a big city (in his case, Paris) while also chronicling his sexual encounters. Marcy likes the book because it's "a kick in the pants to truth, beauty, and God." Paul doesn't get the chance to explain why he likes the book, because Marcy cuts him off to start a conversation about a weird cashier before he can finish his sentence. He doesn't need to say it, because Paul's tone and appearance in these opening scenes show us plenty about why he relates to someone who feels alone and longs for more exciting and romantic nights in his city.

Paul's not scared to meet up with Marcy as he ventures into the New York night, yet the film makes it clear early on that he doesn't have as much control over his night as he thinks he does. During his cab ride to Marcy's Soho apartment - when the only $20 he was carrying blows out the cab's window - we start to get the feeling that this night probably won't go quite the way he thought it would. 

It would be a disservice to explain the plot of After Hours from this point forward, because what comes next is a string of unlikely coincidences that Paul definitely wasn't prepared for. A cast of fantastic actors and actresses - Linda Fiorentino, Will Patton, Teri Garr, John Heard, Catharine O'Hara, and Cheech & Chong, to name a few - each bring something different into Paul's evening as he bounces from one strange encounter to the next. Marcy is the siren that leads him toward a romantic evening - it's easy to see why he's smitten with her when she blows a kiss to a friendly diner cashier played by the great Dick Miller(!) - so when things don't go the way he expected with her Paul's night intensifies quickly.

Walking away from this evening becomes increasingly difficult for Paul, who finds himself broke and alone as he tries to find safe transportation back to his apartment. Dunne does a fantastic job of showing us the character's frustration as the night goes on, and it starts to feel like a waking nightmare where every action he takes is met by the most unfathomably random reaction. Near the end of the film, when it almost feels like a lynch mob is following him through the streets, he finally breaks down to the point where his only response to a question about what's going on is "I just want to live."  At the beginning of the night he might have said the exact same sentence with a hopeful and optimistic tone. Now it feels more like a plea to the heavens.

My favorite singer/songwriter, Warren Zevon, at least once described Martin (Marty, as he calls him) Scorsese as "the man who makes the best movies in the world." (It was when he dedicated Accidentally Like a Martyr to Marty on September 29, 1982; you're damn right I have references.) My favorite thing about After Hours might be that it feels like the kind of cynical tale that Warren would have written a song about. The whole ordeal leads to a hilarious gut punch of an ending, making it clear that Scorsese just spent an entire film lacing a comedic premise with a playfully macabre tone. The ending leaves the viewer grinning thanks to its absurdity - it's as if Paul shouldn't have even tried to change his life, but it's not a total tragedy - yet there's certainly a warning that reads like something out of a folk tale packaged with it. 

What is that warning? "Be careful what you wish for?" "Expect the unexpected?" "Don't go chasing waterfalls?" Maybe it's all three. I'll leave that decision up to you.

So, what do we want from a double feature partner?

• Paul is a great lead because he's basically a sponge that's soaking up everything around him. He doesn't really know what he's looking for as he heads out for the night, he just wants something. We need another lead like that, though I'm thinking it might be interesting to meet a man who approaches his night a little differently
• This has become something of a recurring theme in my posts: the big city setting really makes things feel more ominous as the night goes on. We have spent a lot of time in New York City so far in our double features, so maybe this time we should shake it up and take a trip to another city. Perhaps we should head to the city that Warren Zevon called home. 
• If this was Family Feud and the category was "What would make a man go on a late night adventure?" - the number one answer would most likely be "A woman." So we might as well pick another movie where we end up following a mysterious woman into a tricky situation.
• The nightmarish aspects of After Hours are what really make it so fun, because you never quite know where it's going to go next. Guys like Paul don't have a script for nights where everything seems so random and everything that could go wrong does. We need another movie that uses that uncertainty to create a frantic environment.
• After Hours gets a lot of mileage out of the constant parade of recognizable faces that show up as it moves through the plot. Scorsese was obviously a well respected director and that made it easy for him to line up so much talent, we could use a film by another director with a lot of friends who are willing to show up and chip in.

When it came time to pick a partner for After Hours, there were a lot of films running through my mind. Unlike some of the other double features I've planned, I ended up going with a film that follows a similar predicament but offers up some tonal differences. Still, I think it's a great fit.

Into the Night

1985, Directed by John Landis

After Hours and Into the Night aren't quite polar opposites - they're both films about dudes who end up lost in a city late at night thanks to a beautiful woman and their desire to do something/anything - they are coastal opposites. Unlike Paul, Ed Okin (Jeff Goldblum) lives in sunny Los Angeles. Unfortunately it's not so sunny for Ed, because he's an insomniac. Paul seems to be looking for something new and exciting; Ed just wants to get away from his sleepless existence.

Ed can't get over a lot of the little things that are boring about his life, like the fact that his wife doesn't say anything more than "Have a nice day." to him before he heads to work. He can't keep up at work, much to the chagrin of his supervisor played by David Cronenberg(!), because he forgot to switch from one arbitrary form to the next a few weeks back. So he goes home, finds his wife having an affair - and doesn't even react to it. He's too tired to even care. (In this regard, there are days when I relate to Ed so much.)

Following the advice of a coworker (Dan Aykroyd), Ed takes off on a late night drive to the airport. He doesn't really have a plan of what he's doing, so when he parks his car and stumbles upon a young woman named Diana (Michelle Pfeiffer) who's being attacked by a quartet of Iranian henchmen (one of whom is played by director John Landis), he probably surprises himself when he springs into action and helps her escape. Ed is surprised by Diana's arrival in his life, and he quickly becomes interested in helping her. He doesn't really say why, he's just content having something to do.

Paul had several women directing him through his night in After Hours, and one of the major differences between the two films is that Diana and Ed are locked together for most of the rest of this film. It's clear to see why Diana is interesting to Ed - she's a jewel thief who dresses like the lead character in another late-night-in-L.A. classic, Rebel Without a Cause - and another major shift from Paul's descent into gloom in After Hours is that Ed seems emboldened by her presence. 

As their situation becomes more perilous - crossing paths with an international rogue's gallery that includes those Iranian henchmen, a kidnapping Frenchman (Barbarella director Roger Vadim), a Greek crime boss (Irene Papas), and a British hitman (David Bowie!) - Ed's demeanor shifts from a dejected "My life isn't working out somehow." to an optimistic "Somebody had to help her, I just happened to be in the wrong place at the right time." Unlike After Hours this isn't a constant onslaught against him and there are moments of levity during the couple of days he spends with Diana. Ed knows things could go wrong at any moment, but as he moves through his sleepless existence he continues to become less afraid of anything he sees.

There are plenty of things Ed should be afraid of, and that's where the random surprises of Into the Night match up so well with After Hours. Perhaps the best sequence in the film has Ed following Diana into an upscale apartment with a bunch of televisions, all of which are simultaneously playing Abbot and Costello Meet Frankenstein. Everything is still as Ed moves through the rooms, and the loudest thing we hear is the audio from the film which - even to the trained horror fan who can tell it's the classic spoof - starts to feel like a sinister soundtrack. The payoff to this nightmarish setting doesn't disappoint, yet it's one more moment where Ed reacts more calmly than he probably thought he would when he faces danger alongside Diana.

Into the Night doesn't end with cynicism like After Hours does (Clu Gulager shows up to help wrap things up, there's nothing cynical about that!), which makes it a good second half for this double bill. Both films take us into a sleepless existence where things get far more serious than Paul or Ed ever imagined, yet the directors' wildly different skill sets provide us with two very different nightmares. After Hours and Into the Night play like the yin and yang of 1985 late night walkabouts, and maybe after they're done, you'll want to head out on your own late night adventure.

If you do, don't say that the Friends theme song and I didn't warn you that things could go wrong.

Volume 7 - High Noon and the Man Against The World

Last week we talked about what happens when a man is lonely, this week we're going to look at what happens when a man is alone. They sound like the same thing, but there's a pretty big difference. We all feel alone sometimes. We usually aren't - there's usually someone who would back us up if we asked, sometimes we're just stubborn as hell - but it's alright to feel that way from time to time. And sometimes it's pretty cathartic to watch someone who actually is on their own fighting for what's right.

Those lonely guys we last talked about were concerned with matters of love, but the guys that are alone this week are concerned with honor and justice. I would say that they're two pretty manly guys, especially by Hollywood standards, but as I watched both of these flicks this week I found myself less interested in their toughness or strength than I was in their compassion and integrity. These are my kind of men, and they make for one heck of a double feature.

HOW THIS WORKS
Step 1) I pick a movie.
Step 2) I tell you about the movie.
Step 3) I tell you what we're looking for in a double feature movie.
Step 4) Another movie!
Step 5) Victory!

High Noon

1952, Directed by Fred Zinneman

I get that it's dated, and I get that it's slight, and I know we've all heard that stupid (but kind of true) argument that it's ridiculous that a man would ever walk away from Grace Kelly when he could be with Grace Kelly. But I love those things about High Noon. It's a movie about a simple time in a simple place where things get really complicated. And the man at the center of it, Will Kane, is the walking embodiment of honor and justice.

Quick recap for those unfamiliar with the plot. Gary Cooper stars as U.S. Marshal Will Kane - who has one of the great cinema names, and not just because I can imagine Jim Ross shouting "BY GOD IT'S KANE!" while watching it - who has just quit his job, married Grace Kelly, and is moving on to a new life as a shopkeeper. Except that three goons he has bad blood with are waiting at the nearby train station. Waiting for a fourth goon, Frank Miller, and he's a goon that Kane sent to prison for murder. He's coming in on the noon train, and once the people of the town know this, they're convinced that Kane needs to move on and leave them alone so he doesn't get killed and get them killed with him.

This seems like a good idea to everyone except Will Kane. Kane knows that the town will suffer if Frank Miller and his crew are back, and he knows that most of the people he's leaving behind - including a hotshot deputy (a young Lloyd Bridges) and the retired Marshal that trained him (an old Lon Chaney, Jr.) won't be able to help the town. So Kane decides to stay and fight, because he assumes the town is worth saving and will help him out.

The first assumption might be true, but as we watch the film unfold in real time we quickly realize that the second assumption is false. Kane gets blank stares and even laughs when he asks the men in the town's saloon to stand with him, and his past co-workers are either too scared or too bitter to work with him. The film hits its stride when Kane interrupts a church service to ask for help, and the men and women of the church engage in a heated debate on whether it is right or wrong to stand and fight. Over the years this scene has been slightly tainted by being perfectly spoofed in Mel Brooks' Blazing Saddles, but it really is a perfect portrait of how indecisive people can be when faced with something they fear. All these people see the problem, they just don't know if it's worth risking their safe existence to do something about it. Sounds a lot like some of our modern voters in the United States...but that's a different story for a different day.

As the morning goes on, we realize that people are starting to look at Will Kane like he's the one in the wrong, as if his willingness to stand up for them is an inconvenience. There's a great moment where a child who's playing on the streets runs into Kane while not paying attention, and horror fans will quickly recognize Kane's the child's shock as Kane reaches out to stop him. Noted western fan John Carpenter mimicked this shot perfectly when he had a youngster run into the grasp of Michael Myers while leaving school in Halloween, which makes it that much easier for today's viewer to see just how much the townspeople looked at Kane's actions as the dangerous movements of some kind of boogeyman.

High Noon builds a perfect crescendo as it moves through its 85 minute run time, because the more people turn their back on Kane, the closer we get to the train arriving and a showdown in the dusty streets. Cooper shows more and more determination and just gets the most wonderful angry look on his face as it builds. When the battle starts we all know it can only end one way - this was Hollywood in 1952, come on now - but I'm still on the edge of my seat as we see it play out. It's not fair how cool Will Kane is. Everyone in town doesn't want him to make their lives better, and he does it anyway. For no reward.

Except, of course, Grace Kelly. If she's the only person who will stand with you, you clearly did something right.

It seems a little obvious what we're looking for as a double feature here, but let's take one more look at a few things about High Noon and see how we can build off of them.

• One of my favorite things about Gary Cooper's performance as Will Kane is the way he walks. He's got such poise and he's an imposing figure, but he also walks with this metered cadence that makes him seem larger than life. It felt a little weird comparing him to Michael Myers earlier, but it's the same kind of walk. We need a double feature where our lone warrior has that kind of presence.
• The town Kane is trying to save almost seems to want him to fail, like they have something to lose if their existence is challenged by his actions. There's something about watching a film where we know the hero is in the right and we also know no one in the film seems to care. In the case of the second movie we're going to talk about, we'll see an example of what happens when the town is actively working against the morals of our hero to try and save themselves.
• The western setting of High Noon makes it pretty obvious that Kane and the town are far from anyone else who can help him figure out this situation. I don't think we necessarily need a double feature where the hero is completely secluded from the world, but there's something cool about being a viewer and knowing that help from the outside probably isn't coming. 
• I'm not partial to the police as heroes, and it makes me smile that High Noon makes the clear distinction that Kane is acting as a man, not as an officer of the law, when he decides to stand up and fight. The message this sends is clear - right and wrong are bigger than any badge or any code. 

I had a different plan for this double feature when I started thinking about it, but the more I looked at Cooper's performance the more I thought of another Hollywood heavyweight who has made a career out of being an underdog. His most famous performances could have fit into this double feature with a little work, but it's one of his most atypical leading roles that really meshes perfectly with what the classic western we've been talking about has to offer.

Cop Land

1997, Directed by James Mangold

When we meet Will Kane we can quickly tell he's an honored and respected lawman (until he learns that he isn't). The same can not be said for Freddy Heflin, played by Sylvester Stallone, when we first see him playing pinball in a dirty bar in a New Jersey town. Freddy is the sheriff of Garrison, NJ, a (fictional) small town populated by other police officers who work across the river in New York City. Freddy can't get a job as an NYC cop after losing hearing in one ear while saving a woman from a car accident, so instead he's the guy who deals with speeding tourists and unlawful dumping of garbage while the rest of the town works in the city.

The people in Garrison do seem to respect Freddy, but we can also tell that they do so mostly because they know he's not a threat to them. Stallone, famous for his turns as the all-american boxer and action movie tough guy, portrays Freddy as the kind of simple, sympathetic character he hadn't really played since the first Rocky film. He's a nice guy, everyone likes him, and they're even willing to stand up for him when he crashes his car into a tree while driving home from the bar drunk. But we quickly learn that the reason they leave Freddy in charge is because Freddy's mostly oblivious to everything that's going on in Garrison.

(Random bit of trivia I made up because it's not on IMDB, but is possibly true: Freddy Heflin shares a surname with an actor who starred in several westerns and police dramas, Van Heflin. One of his most respected performances, as a lawman similar to Will Kane and Freddy, was in the 1957 western 3:10 to Yuma. 3:10 to Yuma was remade in 2007 and directed by James Mangold, who directed Cop Land. This makes too much sense to not be intentional. Remind me to tweet Mangold about it later.)

The man who's really in charge of Garrison is Ray Donlan, a well-respected veteran of the force played by Harvey Keitel. He likes Freddy - at one point he even puts in a good word for trying to get Freddy a better job across the river - but he's also involved in a lot of shady business. Most notably, Donlan and some of his police brethren have helped fake the death of his nephew, a young cop who was involved in an unjustified killing during an accident, and now are working to hide their crimes under Freddy's nose. 

Freddy probably wouldn't have noticed anything if he truly was a man against the world, but he knows Gary Figgis. Figgis, played marvelously by Ray Liotta, is a complete mess with a drug habit and a house that gets blown up suspiciously, and as he unravels he becomes the person who motivates Freddy to look more closely at the things around him by shouting wonderful things like "Being right is not a bulletproof vest, Freddy!"  Soon the slouching Sheriff seems to be walking around with his head cocked upward, suspicious of everyone and everything around him. As he learns more about the nefarious actions of the officers that live in Garrison, he starts to realize he has to do something. 

In one of the film's best scenes, Freddy turns to NYC Internal Affairs investigator Moe Tilden (played by Robert De Niro), who had come to him earlier in the film trying to get information, but Tilden refuses to offer any help. This leads to one of my favorite exchanges in the film, as Tilden reminds Freddy that sometimes the help you seek is conditional.

"You came to me, to my town...with all these speeches, talking to me about doing the right thing. I'm doing the right thing. What's goin' on? What are you doing?"

"That was like two weeks ago."

Without the assistance of the NYPD, and with Figgis facing his own problems, Freddy Heflin's battle against the corruption in his town starts to crescendo just like Will Kane's did. The biggest difference here is that the people of Garrison don't really think Freddy is up to it, and thus they don't really try to hurt him physically at first. Donlan and his crew think they can break Freddy's spirit, and even when push comes to shove they attempt to injure and incapacitate Freddy. They think he'll give up and go back to turning his back on their actions. You might be able to guess how this one ends too, because that doesn't sound like something Stallone would do.

Cop Land is a grittier tale of standing up against those that threaten your morals than High Noon was, but boy does it do a great job of it. Stallone might give his best performance outside a Rocky film, and the fact that he gained 40 pounds eating pancakes to become Freddy only makes him that much more lovable to someone like me who loves pancakes and who needed an excuse to mention pancakes in something he wrote two weeks in a row. Liotta might give his best performance too, and that's an achievement considering his wonderful career. They play off each other so well, and everyone else in the film is better because of it.

Watching Cop Land twenty years after its release, it's hard to believe this movie isn't talked about more often. It rushes the finale a little, but the performances are so rich and it's one of the more unique corrupt cop films of its time. Now that Stallone is back to being an Oscar nominee (should have been a winner, but we all know those voters can't get ANYTHING right) maybe it'll find a new audience. It's not as iconic as High Noon, but it definitely gives us one of the more unique heroes of the action movie era.

Will Kane and Freddy Heflin stand tall because they believe in what they're doing and they're not willing to sacrifice their convictions, even when it threatens their lives. We could all learn a lot from these guys. Hopefully we don't need to pick up a gun and take on the people who threaten our existence, but maybe we need to be reminded that standing up for what is right is something you have to do, even if no one else will do it. These guys do that, and that's what makes this a perfect double feature for me. If you feel alone in your personal battle with life, I hope you too can find a hero, or two, who reminds you to keep standing tall.

Volume 6 - Marty and the Struggle to Believe in True Love

Last week we talked about having faith in aliens or God or the devil, so this week we're gonna talk about another topic some people don't believe in: true love. There are some people who found true love, and I'm so proud of them for it, but there are also a lot of people who are struggling with it. And I get it.  I understand how easy it's to give up on the existence of true love - If Chris Pratt and Anna Faris can't make it work forever then how the hell can anyone else? - and I understand more than most how difficult it is to keep the faith in love. But I don't care. Tonight, we're gonna try to believe in it.

The thing that nobody tells you about love when you're growing up is that if you don't end up finding it, you also don't end up learning how to do it. I guess you learn things from people like Cary Grant or John Cusack in the movies, but sometimes those people don't give the best advice for the real world. Especially if you're not as good looking as Cary Grant or as tenaciously romantic as John Cusack or if you just have any of the other problems that us humans are susceptible to. If you're like me, you might run into these problems, stumble through a few attempts, get dispirited, and then just build your own little world and miss the opportunities that are right in front of your face because you're too scared to do it again.

Building your own little world works for some people, so why would they continue to believe in true love when failure is so damaging? I'm not sure, but I think there are reasons to believe. Thankfully for those who don't want to hear much more about my failures - that last paragraph got a bit too personal, Michael - there are a couple of movies I was thinking about this week that help me remember that there's still a chance for people to find love, even if they never learned how. They just gotta believe.

This one goes out to the lonely lovers out there, wherever you are...

HOW THIS WORKS
Step 1) I pick a movie.
Step 2) I tell you about the movie.
Step 3) I tell you what we're looking for in a double feature movie.
Step 4) Another movie!
Step 5) Victory!

Marty

1955, Directed by Delbert Mann

When it comes to down on their luck folks looking for love, it's possible that no one on film has ever ended up luckier than Marty. A brisk 90 minute romance starring Ernest Borgnine doesn't sound like the kind of film that would win best picture at the Academy Awards, especially in the middle of the 1950s. Yet, in a year where Nicholas Ray and Alfred Hitchcock and Douglas Sirk and Billy Wilder were making films, it won not only Best Picture but also Best Actor, Best Director (Delbert Mann, remaking his own TV play as his feature debut), and Best Screenplay (Paddy Chayefsky). 

Why on Earth would audiences and critics flock to this little movie? Because they believe in true love, and that's what Marty is selling.

Borgnine stars as Marty Piletti, a 34 year old self-described "kind of a stocky guy" working in a New York City butcher shop and living with his mother. He's the only one of his siblings that isn't married yet. We know this right away, because every character Marty meets at the butcher's counter wants to know when he's getting married.

Marty is not immune to this. Marty wants to get married too. But he also feels like he's been passed over forever, and he's had enough of it. When his mother starts asking about why he's not going out looking for a girl on a Saturday night, Marty lets out a fantastic tirade.

"Sooner or later, there comes a point in a man's life when he gotta face some facts, and one fact I gotta face is that whatever it is that women like, I ain't got it. I chased enough girls in my life. I went to enough dances. I got hurt enough. I don't wanna get hurt no more. I just called a girl just now, and I got a real brush-off, boy. I figured I was past the point of being hurt, but that hurt. Some stupid woman who I didn't even wanna call up. She gave me the brush. I don't wanna go to the Stardust Ballroom because all that ever happened to me there was girls made me feel like I was a bug. I got feelings, you know. I had enough pain. No, thank you."

Marty then goes to the Stardust Ballroom. No one makes him go, he goes on his own accord. Why? Because he's a believer.

Waiting for him at that ballroom is a young woman named Clara. He doesn't know it, and neither does she. She shows up to the ballroom having been set up on a double date with the kind of guy who makes people like Marty and I think that most men should be shot out of a cannon into the ocean. This guy apparently only has one Saturday off every three weeks, and he expected his friend to set him up with something "better." In fact, he offers Marty five dollars to help him walk out on Clara. Marty, because he's amazing, is upset and rebukes this offer. The other guy, who doesn't deserve to even have a name, doesn't care and walks out on Clara anyway.

There's no specific explanation given for why Marty ends up consoling Clara and asking her to dance, and that's one of the more beautiful things about the film. We already know that Marty is guided by his heart, we don't need him to explain it. We knew the intentions of the other guy (who I hope is slowly roasting over a flame somewhere) and we know Marty's mindset, so we aren't surprised at all when he takes the chance to do what's right.

What follows is, in the simplest terms, adorable. Marty starts to smile as they dance. He asks her to go get something to eat. As they walk, he talks. He talks a lot. He talks way too much. He talks about his whole life. He realizes he's talking too much, shouting "I can't stop talking! Isn't this stupid!?" and before Clara can get a word in he adds "You got a real nice face, you know? It's a real nice face." Marty's gone. There's no going back for him. He's fallen for Clara hard.

For the rest of the night, it's a whole new world for both of them. Clara is clearly enamored with Marty, who suddenly seems so alive and vibrant. She smiles from ear to ear as he tells stories about his time in the war and consoles him as he tells of some of the worst times in his life. He lets her talk about her life and clearly is attracted to her, and it seems like things are going to be just right for both of them immediately. But things don't stay perfect all the time, as both share their doubts and fears. The most frightening moment is when the night almost ends because Marty asks for a kiss and Clara isn't quite ready yet. Marty lashes out angrily, and while he's not right to do so, it's easy to see why he does.

After years and years of looking for an answer, he's got one in front of him. The mistake Marty makes is looking for an immediate magic answer, because he's been told so many times and felt inside himself so many times that he can't miss any more opportunities. This is one of the cardinal mistakes that lonely people make, and Clara is totally justified in her response to him. I'm thankful that Chayefsky and Mann are better at handling what comes next as filmmakers than I am, because we got real close to this being one of those missed chances for them. 

Marty, the film, only rides the roller coaster of new love for a couple of days in the life of Marty and Clara, but it sure does a wonderful job of hitting all the ups and downs on that ride. For someone like me, who's only visited the outskirts of true love, that's a lot of fun to see. It leaves me with hope. Now I gotta find another hopeful film to go with it. Here's what I'm looking for

• Marty works partially because Borgnine doesn't look like a romantic Hollywood leading man. Borgnine was 38 years old and had a reputation for playing "heavies" during his short time in Hollywood before this film. We want another film with a lead who we wouldn't necessarily expect to be the star of a Hollywood romance.
• There are a lot of obstacles that Marty faces, and one that sticks out to me is how he's a guy working an average job in a big city. The big city aspect really helps sell the drama of his quest for love to a small town guy like me, because he's facing a lot of competition and the window of opportunity for finding love seems that much smaller.
• Because of these obstacles, Marty feels like his time is running out. We need another movie where our fool in love is facing that kind of pressure.
• Like the guy in the opening, Marty doesn't really know what he's doing. He doesn't have the experience, and the advice he's been getting isn't always the best. So when he does get the chance to make an expression, he stumbles over his words and almost pushes things too far in desperation. Maybe I'm just rooting for the home team - aka, ME - here, but I want another film where things get a little awkward and mistakes are overcome.

It took more than 50 years of cinema for me to find a movie that meshes so well with these things about Marty, and the result isn't perfect. Then again, neither is the path to true love.

Stranger Than Fiction

2006, Directed by Marc Forster

Marty Pilleti is a man who assumes his time to find true love is running out. Harold Crick, the character at the center of Stranger Than Fiction, played by 38 year old comedian Will Ferrell, is literally told that his time is running out. It's literal because the person who tells him this is an author (Emma Thompson) who's narrating inside his head. I'm not being one of those teenagers who doesn't know what the word literal means, I promise.

Like Marty, Harold is a creature of habit. An IRS agent who lives alone in Chicago, Harold is obsessed with numbers and time. That makes it incredibly jarring when he starts to hear the voice of a narrator in his head on what would otherwise be an ordinary Wednesday, and provides a lot of confusion for Harold. Then, one day while he's winding his watch, the narrator says something -

"Little did he know that this simple, seemingly innocuous event, would result in his imminent death."

- that obviously isn't what anyone wants to hear from a narrator inside their head.

The narrator has been right so far, so Harold does a bunch of things that a lot of us would do at the thought of death. He lashes out. He visits a doctor. He starts to learn to play guitar. He obviously starts to struggle to keep up with his day to day life. That's not necessarily a bad thing, because he's also suddenly not afraid to live his life. He stops counting his steps and meticulously tying his tie the same way. He starts to consider what's really important.

Harold ends up at the office of a literature professor (Dustin Hoffman, who has a lot of fun talking about golems and other literary beings) who tries to help him make sense out his narrator. Along the way Hoffman's character insists that Harold could do anything he wants with the life he has left, offering "You could just eat nothing but pancakes if you wanted" as an example. But Harold doesn't want that. He wants to live. 

He also wants to love.

Harold's chance comes in the form of a bakery owner he's auditing, a rebellious young woman named Ana (Maggie Gyllenhaal). She obviously doesn't like him from the start, which sets up more of a traditional movie romance than Marty's. But that makes sense, because Harold is trapped in a fictional work and trying to figure out who his third person omniscient narrator is and what kind of story his story is. 

Harold isn't as outgoing as Marty when he starts to become interested in Ana. He shows a quick wit and a willingness to banter with her, but he's still defined by the rules and routines of his life. After a long day of work he has to be forced to sit down and eat a cookie she baked, and he thanks her for this before realizing he can't take a gift from someone he's auditing. Only after an argument does he make the connection that she was trying to do something nice for him, and that he blew it. He makes it more awkward by vocalizing these realizations to her, but he also shows how badly he's upset by his own mistake.

Harold doesn't know what he's doing, but he's motivated. As we learn more about the relationship between Harold and his narrator his romantic life loses the spotlight to his actual life, but without the things he learns from his interactions with Ana we wouldn't have such a fulfilling journey with him. Harold wants whatever life he has left to be a complete one, so when he starts playing guitar for Ana and singing (singing with his eyes closed, which is the true sign of a romantic in love) Wreckless Eric's 'Whole Wide World' - which should definitely be the theme song of this double feature - we know that he's become a true believer.

The imperfections present in Marty Piletti and Harold Crick, two men in search of love who aren't above fits of lust and ogling and stumbling over their words, are obvious. It's the size of their hearts and their willingness to fight for true love in spite of these mistakes that really makes this double feature work for me. Neither film ends with anything certain in these relationships, but both leave us believing there's a chance that these characters have found their way.

There are people out there like Marty and Harold, who feel like they've had enough pain or who hide their pain by paying more attention to the minute details of their life. I can say this definitively because I'm one of them. Believing true love is out there hurts sometimes, and a couple of borderline fantasy films about middle aged guys who stumble into love might not be enough to make some of those lonely folks forget how much it hurts to try and find love and how crippling failure can be the next time you feel something about someone. It takes a lot more work for a real person to find love than it does for these guys in the movies - that's just one of the sad truths of life, folks - but if the movies can at least provide a little hope that keeps your belief alive, that's something.

If you're out there and you're tired and hurt and ready to give up on love - check out a double feature like this one. Marty and Harold's stories work for me, but you can probably find your own inspiration among the movies you love. Luckily for you, there are plenty of romantic stories out there.

The only way you're ever going to find love is if you believe in it first. I hope the movies can help you keep that belief alive.

Volume 5 - Close Encounters of the Third Kind and Having Faith in Your Double Feature

Fun fact about this week's double feature: When I started planning this, neither of these films were part of the double feature. I started with a movie I wanted to talk about, then I thought of a movie that matched it, then I thought of a movie that also matched it and was more popular, then I started watching that movie....and completely changed my mind about the movie that should pair with it. So, I'd like to apologize in advance to the double feature that was supposed to be this double feature. Perhaps your day will come soon.

In the meantime, I found myself sitting in front of my TV this week taking in one of my favorite films that I've seen dozens of times. And, as I watched it, I started to realize that it shares a lot of spooky similarities with another of my favorite films. And, when that happens, there's only one thing left to do. You know what that is.

What? No. I meant make a double feature. Gosh, have you even been reading these posts?

HOW THIS WORKS
Step 1) I pick a movie.
Step 2) I tell you about the movie.
Step 3) I tell you what we're looking for in a double feature movie.
Step 4) Another movie!
Step 5) Victory!

Close Encounters of the Third Kind

1977, Directed by Steven Spielberg

Last week I talked about Night of the Living Dead, and mentioned how growing up in a rural area of the Midwest added to the dread I felt when watching that film. There's one other film from my childhood that inspired a very similar dread, the difference being that Night of the Living Dead featured a threat coming from below and the other film featured a threat coming from above.

You might have guessed by now that the film I'm talking about is Steven Spielberg's Close Encounters of the Third Kind, which is probably still my favorite of that great director's films. I get why it probably shouldn't be - watching it again reminds me that it's a little bloated, a minor offense but something that shouldn't happen when the same guy directed a film that's as svelte as Jaws - but there's a sense of wonder that comes from this film that just hits me personally. Maybe it's because I watched so much Unsolved Mysteries as a kid, maybe it's because I was so obsessed with aliens that when I was in fourth grade I swore up and down that some lights I saw in the sky (which I'm now pretty darn sure were a radio tower) were a UFO and then I caused a ruckus because I believed it was a UFO and I ended up having to talk to the school counselor because I wouldn't stop claiming it was a UFO and oh my God, Mike, why are you still typing this. They get it. You want to believe. Also, you probably belong in an institution. Get back to talking about the movie.

The dread that crazy preteen Mike felt during Close Encounters of the Third Kind obviously comes from the scene, set in a rural area outside Muncie, Indiana, where Melinda Dillon and her character's toddler son have their own close encounter. It's a scene that absolutely terrified me when I first saw it and even as an adult, when I can tell it's Spielberg at his most playful, it works as a fantastic scene that shakes the whole film at its core. Up until this point in the movie we've mostly been dealing with flashing lights and toys and Richard Dreyfuss being Richard Doofus, but as soon as that orange light shines there's just a fantastic energy that starts dripping off the screen. I've seen it z bunch of times, I'm still a little exhausted by the end of the scene.

Even better, the film really seems to take off once we've seen what happens to that little boy. Dreyfuss' family situation escalates, and his doofusness becomes desperation. The exploits of Francois Truffaut's character, Lacombe, start to seem a little more relevant. Then the film introduces Devil's Tower, and it instantly became the one random out of the way place in America that I now have to go see before I die. The grandiose finale is maybe a little bit overdone, but it's so beautiful and John Williams' score is one of the best of all-time, so I'm willing to forgive any of its wrongs. 

I took a swipe at Dreyfuss' character, Roy Neary, earlier, which was a tad uncalled for. Despite the fact that it's tearing his life apart, he is so caught up in wanting to know what's going on that he sells out for it. Roy gets a taste that something big is happening, something he never imagined could happen, and he wants to help figure it out no matter what. Is Roy a bad person because of that? Maybe. He makes decisions that most people wouldn't and ends up hurting his family (poor Teri Garr, that girl always deserves better!) in the process. But he's committed to what he wants to believe, like a bumbling Fox Mulder, and there's a part of me that just respects that kind of faith.

Close Encounters of the Third Kind is one of those movies where I just get so swept up in what it's offering that it's impossible for me to think anything is wrong with it. Like I said - I know why most people prefer Jaws or Raiders of the Lost Ark or some other Oscar winning flick Spielberg has made - but this is exactly what I want from a film. It's a sci-fi film about believing the world is bigger than you and your problems and how small we really all are in the grand scheme of things while we also each have a place in that grand scheme. And those are some themes I just can't get enough of. In fact, those are gonna play in to the double feature we're about to make.

So, it's time to come up with that double feature. Like I said at the beginning, I didn't plan to make this decision. But when I started watching Close Encounters the other day, another movie just kept popping into my head.

The following list sums up some of my favorite things about Close Encounters of the Third Kind. They all have parallels in the film I'm about to discuss..

• First, Close Encounters of the Third Kind starts with a globetrotting, European born expert, who just happens to have found some clues in the Middle Easy that hint at something bigger going on.
• As stated above, the event that starts everything in progress here is a single mother who loses her child to a force most people won't be willing to consider.
• At the center of the film is Roy, a down on his luck character who is having problems at work and home, and who at times seems to be angry at someone. When he shouts at the sky in the middle of the film, it's not a stretch to think that Roy is partially angry at God.
• Roy believes the single mother in peril and seems determined to help her. So does the European globetrotter, once he gets involved. But the bunch of white guys sitting around a table who think they can solve everything with science? Not so much.
• I won't go into spoilers, even though these are two of the most popular movies of all-time, but most of these parallels are tied up in somewhat similar ways in both films. There are some major thematic differences, but if you squint real hard you can see the same ideas.

I look at this list of things, and I think about how Close Encounters of the Third Kind is a film made by an Oscar winning director that was one of the biggest genre hits of the '70s. And then I start to think about another film that was directed by an Oscar winner and was one of the biggest genre hits of the '70s. 

The Exorcist

1973, Directed by William Friedkin

You might think I'm crazy right now. Close Encounters of the Third Kind and The Exorcist are wildly different movies, but if you've seen both movies even 1% as often as I have, you'll look at that list of things about Close Encounters above and realize a lot of them apply to The Exorcist.

• Ellen Burstyn, like Melinda Dillon, plays a single mom trying to make ends meet when her child's life is threatened.
• A whole bunch of "smart" dudes - in one film scientists, in the other film doctors - don't have any interest in believing what the mother and others have seen.
• Meanwhile, an outsider with a chip on his shoulder - Jason Miller's Father Karras here or Dreyfuss' Roy Neary - gets involved. The motivations of these two characters are very different - Karras is skeptical, Roy buys in from minute one - but both end up playing a crucial role in helping the mothers.
• Francois Truffaut's Lacombe and Max von Sydow's Father Merrin are two other characters who suffer far different fates, but both start the film seeking the truth in a distant land and end up in America facing what they knew was true.
• Both movies have been edited into enough versions over the years to make it really confusing to remember what happens sometimes. Maybe that's just a personal thing, but it happens to me.

Of course, these are all superficial comparisons. You could pull this kind of trickery to make a lot of movies sound like the same movie. But it's the two male leads - and the faith I talked about with Roy Neary - that makes me really want to double feature these '70s classics.

Father Damien Karras, played by Jason Miller, is one of my favorite characters in any movie. Unlike Roy Neary, I'd never call him a doofus. But like Roy, Damien is losing hold on his life early in the film. He doesn't quite grasp faith the same way Roy does - which makes sense, since he's facing a more sinister unknown force - but when he chooses faith late in the film he chooses it and never looks back. I said earlier that Roy believes there's more to the world and is fighting to find his place in the grand scheme of things, and that's where Father Karras ends up at the end of The Exorcist. 

I've always been a person who believes there's more out there than just us. Aliens, God, the Devil - I just feel like there's got to be more to the world than humanity. Maybe that makes me a sucker, but I love a movie about a potential sucker who's proven right and whose faith is justified. If I did this double feature again I'd start with The Exorcist and end with the film where the lead's faith is rewarded in a more upbeat manner. Any way you attack it, you'll get amazing visuals, great performances, and two of the coolest musical scores in cinema history.

This might be too heavy (or too long) of a double feature for a lot of people, but I think the chance to look at two of the best genre films of the 1970s side by side could provide a lot of good insight for viewers. Youngsters who want to learn about cinema can get a crash course in the works of two of the best directors out there, and people who have seen the films a few times can look at them in a new light. Or, you can just sit back and enjoy two one-of-a-kind films. 

For me, it's all about faith. Thinking about how much the characters in these movies face their own reality and end up being part of something that challenges their reality makes this a double feature that I think I'll come back to again. I've got faith in these movies.