The Best Movies You Never Heard of

My wife and I used to co-write a site called “Blue Collar, Black Tie” which focused on finding cheap ways to enjoy some luxuries. After not having updated it since 2017, we finally shut it down recently and let the domain registration lapse. When I took everything off the server (to make more space available for the ever-growing Atomic Junk Shop), I went through the old posts to see if there were any that might find a new home here.

There were a handful of such posts,  including two on the subject of movies that are unjustly forgotten today, “The Best Movies You Never Heard Of.” Rather than simply moving those posts over here, I decided to sit down and re-watch the films mentioned so that I can add any fresh thoughts to my previous opinions.

I’ve always had a taste for obscure and idiosyncratic movies; at worst, this manifests in a love for terrible sci-fi films like Robot Monster or Phantom of the Paradise, but it also shows up in a fondness for gems like My Favorite Year or The Year of Living Dangerously. (Peter Weir can’t make a bad movie.) A long time ago, when enormous shoulder pads were in fashion, there was a video store in Pasadena that was unlike any I’d ever seen before. Videodeon specialized in films for movie lovers. Sure, they stocked the big hits too, but unlike Blockbuster and other chains, they didn’t have entire walls dedicated to multiple copies of a few popcorn-munchers. Videodeon had a large art film section, an even larger foreign film section, a healthy collection of little indie films, and a bunch of “drive-in classics.” As might be expected, the store only lasted a few years, but while it was there, we found ourselves exposed to a lot of interesting films, many of which don’t involve CGI monsters blowing things up. Most of the films discussed below were discovered in visits to that long-gone but never forgotten store.

Rustler’s Rhapsody (1985)
More subtle than Blazing Saddles, Rustler’s Rhapsody is a perfect satire of cowboy movie cliches, ranging from the singing hero Rex O’Herlihan (Tom Berenger) with the world’s smartest horse to the raincoat-wearing new breed of Italian cowboys. The final confrontation is a face-off another western hero, this one played by John Wayne’s son Patrick, in a perfect Gene Autry vs. Roy Rogers showdown. Andy Griffith plays Colonel Ticonderoga, the evil cattle baron who continually attacks the sheepherders until Berenger’s Rex arrives to stick up for them. The film got mostly negative reviews because it utterly depends on familiarity with the tropes of old western B-movies like those of Autry, Rogers, and other staples of the mid-century Saturday matinee era. If you don’t know your horse opera, you won’t get it.

On the re-watch, I noticed a lot of absurd things going on in the background, sight-gags and character bits that really added to the comedy, most of which I had forgotten. The two standout performers that I failed to acknowledge in my original post were the women; Sela Ward as the Colonel’s daughter and Marilu Henner as Miss Tracy, the “prostitute with a heart of gold.” Both are very funny in their roles. Another highlight is G.W. Bailey as Peter the Town Drunk, the self-aware and occasionally fourth-wall-breaking self-proclaimed “comedy relief.” The film was directed by Hugh Wilson, best known as the creator of WKRP in Cincinnati and director of the first Police Academy film.

The Spitfire Grill (1996)
A young woman with the unlikely name of Percy Talbott (Alison Elliott), recently released from prison, tries to start over in the small town of Gilead, Maine. The local sheriff who serves as her parole officer helps her get a job at the local diner, which the cantankerous owner has been trying to sell for years. Despite both overt and passive-aggressive distrust and contempt from many of the locals, she brings a new optimism and energy to the moribund town, but secrets and prejudices threaten to deprive her of the new beginning she seeks. The film, directed by Lee David Zlotoff (creator of the MacGyver TV series), was Audience winner at the 1996 Sundance Festival, and was adapted into a stage musical in 2001.

Seeing it again, I see why the writers of the Broadway musical changed a few plot points for their version, especially an important scene toward the end, though I don’t think that change was necessary. But it serves to let the townspeople off the hook for their role in what happens and makes for a happier ending. It’s still a very good movie, despite the bittersweet conclusion.

Other People’s Money (1991)
Danny De Vito departs from his usual roles here, playing a mostly non-comedic role as somebody who isn’t a vulgar loser, in a surprisingly even-handed look at corporate raiders and leveraged buyouts. Gregory Peck, in his last major role, plays “Jorgy” Jorgensen, a paternalistic business owner who fights to keep “Larry the Liquidator” from taking over and dissolving his company, which is the largest employer in a small town. He turns to his step-daughter Kate (Penelope Ann Miller), an attorney, to fend off Larry’s efforts. Larry tries to romance Kate, but also pursues his plan to acquire and liquidate the factory, leading to a showdown at the stockholders’ meeting. Piper Laurie and Dean Jones appear in supporting roles. Adapted from a play of the same title and directed by Norman Jewison, most critics felt Other People’s Money was too soft on corporate America and should have had a more satirical bite.

Rewatching it, I was most surprised by the babydoll voice of Penelope Ann Miller; I did not remember her sounding like that. She plays a character who is purportedly a tough-as-nails corporate lawyer, but her overall demeanor is softer and more deferential than I would expect such a character to be in a current film, and a lot moreso than I remembered. It’s an interesting example of the way social dynamics evolve over time; in 1991, her character was seen as an aggressive hardass by the other characters and the audience alike, but 30+ years later, she seems almost too delicate for the job. I think this is a reflection of the entrenched misogyny of the time; women in business had to be feminine but not too girly, tough but not too masculine, aggressive but not too pushy, with everything from their clothing to their lipstick to their tone of voice rigidly policed.

Local Hero (1983)
Peter Reigert plays Mac, an American executive. Because his name is MacIntyre and is therefore assumed to be Scottish, Mac is sent to Scotland to try to convince the locals to sell their village to his employer so they can build an oil refinery on its pristine shore. Burt Lancaster is his eccentric and curmudgeonly boss, an amateur astronomer who is more interested in discovering a comet than building an oil refinery. The village is only too happy to sell the whole town, except for an attractive marine researcher (Jenny Seagrove) and the contented hermit who owns the beach (Fulton MacKay). As MacIntyre gets used to the leisurely pace of village life and tries to woo the biologist, he comes to doubt the wisdom of his mission.

This movie shows you how much movies have changed since 1983; Local Hero is not a movie you can half-watch while doomscrolling; the plot is not conveyed through frantic screaming of plot points while a doomsday clock ticks down. This is one of those films where a certain segment of the audience will complain that “nothing happens.” The plot, such as it is, is fairly simple and straightforward, but the film isn’t really all that concerned about it. It’s much more interested in sitting with the characters and watching them bounce off each other while the story unfolds around them. It’s sweet and charming. A young Peter Capaldi shows up as Oldsen, the company’s rep in Scotland. The music is by Mark Knopfler of Dire Straits.

Sweet Liberty (1986)
In Writer/Director/Star Alan Alda’s film, historian Michael Burgess (Alda) has sold the movie rights to his scholarly book about a particular incident during the Revolutionary War, and Hollywood has showed up to film the story on location. Michelle Pfeiffer and Michael Caine are the stars of the film-within-the-film, Pfeiffer a seemingly sweet young thing that Michael immediately falls for, Caine a handsome cad who immediately sets about seducing his co-star, as well as Michael’s on-again-off-again girlfriend, and the Mayor’s wife. Meanwhile, Michael’s elderly mother (Lillian Gish) is certain there’s poison in her food and the devil is in her kitchen, and neanderthal screenwriter Stanley (Bob Hoskins) is happily dumbing down the script to meet the director’s three rules for success: “Defy authority, destroy property, and take people’s clothes off.” An entertaining film in which Alda expresses his feelings about the movie industry. Some critics complained that it wasn’t mean-spirited or bitter enough.

Revisiting the film, it was very much an ‘80s movie in terms of pacing, structure, and character relationships, but still enjoyable. Bob Hoskins is terrific as a lowbrow slob trying very hard to aspire to art. One of the highlight is the contrast between Michelle Pfeiffer in character as Mary Slocum, a demure and devoted housewife in the Revolutionary War, and Michelle Pfeiffer as an ambitious actor managing her career. Alan Alda’s character is as surprised by the difference as we are. There are a few great cringe moments, such as when the wife of Michael Caine’s character makes a surprise visit to the set, disrupting a few of his dalliances.

That’s about half of the films in the original two posts. We’ll be back with the rest after a few more refresher screenings.