June 23, 2005
Fly By (K)Night: Reviews of the documentary OVERNIGHT, the story behind the megalomaniac director of THE BOONDOCK SAINTS, Troy Duffy, and BATMAN:THE ANIMATED SERIES VOL. 3, and this week’s hits and misses.
By now you’ve had your opportunity to catch THE BOONDOCK SAINTS on cable or video/DVD, if you so desired. The film is a product of the post RESERVOIR DOGS/PULP FICTION Quentin Tarantino Movement, as the clerk at the local division of the Evil Empire, er, Blockbuster Video store will inform you. He being of the belief that any movie that is even marginally cool and somehow still managing to go undetected by the mainstream world sees its coolness quotient increased tenfold, thereby actually transforming a potentially sub standard movie into a quality flick. The aforementioned clerk will tell you that THE BOONDOCK SAINTS is a fucking overlooked masterpiece. Overlooked, maybe. Masterpiece, no, but thanks for playing, now go back to your copy of Entertainment Weekly. (For true examples of movies that played dead but were resuscitated thanks to strong word of mouth in the rental market afterlife, and deservedly so, see DONNIE DARKO or FIGHT CLUB, two brilliant cult films that were pronounced DOA at the multiplexes, but went on to be hits thanks to stellar sales in the DVD market.)
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THE BOONDOCK SAINTS (with Willem Dafoe) was the runt of the Tarantino copycat litter, among such nearly-straight-to-video titles like the engaging KILLING ZOE (from one-time Tarantino cohort Roger Avary), and the mildly amusing THINGS TO DO IN DENVER WHEN YOU’RE DEAD (starring Andy Garcia and featuring Christopher Walken at his looniest best. Boat drinks, fellas, boat drinks.). There’s plenty more that can be added to this list of derivative diarrhea, but I’ve stuffed ‘em in pillow cases tied to heavy rocks and placed them in nearby Lake Erie. Boat drinks, fellas, boat drinks.
And what of THE BOONDOCK SAINTS? Don’t worry. I made sure I sank that baby first. It deserved to sleep with the fish. The actual story behind the film is immensely more interesting than the finished product, and while OVERNIGHT (released on DVD June 28, 2005), the documentary chronicling the rise and fall of the writer/director responsible for the fecal matter that is THE BOONDOCK SAINTS, Troy Duffy, manages to be engrossing, it too, manages to miss the boat, but not by much.
Troy Duffy was a scruffy bartender. He wrote a script that would eventually get him a seemingly too good to be true first class ticket to ride with then head of Miramax Studios Harvey Weinstein. THE BOONDOCK SAINTS was purchased by happy Harvey, who was on a (bank) roll, ever large and in charge, looking to expand his increasingly can’t miss maverick line-up of cheap-o hired guns such as Robert Rodriquez (EL MARIACHI) and Kevin Smith (CLERKS, and Daddy Warbucks-slash-not-so-secret-benefactor funding the site you find yourself staring at right now, www.moviepoopshoot.com). In an act of generosity, happy Harvey even bought the bar Duffy once slung drinks at, making him co-owner, much like Charlie and the infamous golden ticket that would give ol' Charlie full rights to the Wonka Factory (and inevitably, a mouthful of cavities). Nice guy, that Harvey Weinstein, nice guy. Before Duffy could collect his cash and prizes, to paraphrase that Bruckheimer/Simpson classic TOP GUN, the man’s ego began writing checks his talent couldn’t cash. Weinstein got wind of this; or maybe he realized Duffy was a hack, and the tar-bender-cum-director quickly became a Miramax tax write-off at best.
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OVERNIGHT is your basic train wreck of the American dream cautionary tale, with Duffy, turning on friends and family alike, smiling pretty for the cameras and attempting to proselytize the naysayers at the exact moment his phone calls begin to go unreturned by the one-time-hot-for-him Hollywood bigwigs. There was a nanosecond when Duffy’s story was all over the place, from Hollywood trades to Maxim magazine. It made for good copy but it was more a testament to Weinstein’s promotional skills and the marketing blitz machine that was Miramax Studios than a validation of Duffy’s own artistic ability. You say something enough times, you begin to believe it, right? Unfortunately, Duffy was the only one buying into it, and his ass would soon bounce like a rubber check. Most everyone else seemed to be catching on, as Duffy went from being the belle of the ball to being the backstabbing bitch of the biz. OVERNIGHT, co directed by Tony Montana (no SCARFACE jokes, please) and Mark Brian Smith, portrays Duffy as an abusive and paranoid drunk, manipulating his homebrewed motley crew into working for him for free, and even better, convincing them that they deserved nothing for their efforts, other than the glory that comes with being associated with a world class auteur. Make that world-class asshole, since Troy Duffy was all bark and no bite.
OVERNIGHT can be mesmerizing in points, mostly due to Duffy’s Christ-like posing and David Keresh-like rants. In a miscalculated move, the filmmakers, much like their subject Duffy, lose focus, skimming over the actual production of THE BOONDOCK SAINTS, and instead opt to spend an inordinate amount of time on Duffy’s band THE BROOD, who Duffy attempted to include as part of the bill of goods he wanted to sell to Hollywood.
My favorite scene in the film, one that bares repeated viewings for the subtleties of real human emotion, shows Duffy speaking to a class of eager, enthusiastic film students. Duffy implodes in front of the intimate crowd, spewing his nasty little ectoplasm all over the tiny crowd like Hitler being smashed by a sledgehammer at a Gallagher show. He regresses to his barroom intimidation tactics, literally staring down a scrawny young man in the front of the class with all the contempt his black hole-like heart could muster. The scene did the one thing Duffy himself could never manage with his own film: provide me with memorable cinema.
Review of BATMAN: THE ANIMATED SERIES VOL. 3, by guest contributor, Jerry Unangst.
When it comes to collecting comic books, there always seems to be two different types of people; the DC person and the Marvel person. I’ll take that one step further and state that in my mind, there seems to be two different types of DC readers; those in the Batman camp, and those who prefer Superman.
I’ll be damned if I ain’t a Batman guy.
Having read the majority of the various Bat- titles since the early seventies, I initially got into the JUSTICE LEAGUE OF AMERICA because of Batman. Then there was THE DARK KNIGHT RETURNS, the landmark miniseries that blew me away. I’m proud to mention that I helped “off” that punk, Jason Todd, in the call-in phone poll to vote on whether the Todd-version of the Robin character would live or die. With the release of Tim Burton’s film BATMAN, I was grinning ear-to-ear. Though the movie was flawed (“Couldn’t they do better with another actor other than Pat Hingle as Gordon?”. among other qualms), the director did an admirable job of bringing the Frank Miller’s THE DARK KNIGHT RETURNS to the screen. I was ecstatic to see something other than the campy Adam West 60s version of the character. This elation would only be topped by the Paul Dini and Bruce Timm take on the franchise with BATMAN: THE ANIMATED SERIES.
Having just completed a marathon screening of BATMAN: THE ANIMATED SERIES VOLUME THREE, what immediately impresses me are the notable actors responsible for voice work in just this season alone: Richard Moll, Efrem Zimbalist Jr., Melissa Gilbert, Diana Muldaur, David Warner, Levar Burton, Brad Garrett, Kenneth Mars, Jobeth Williams, Robert Costanzo, Nichelle Nichols, Helen Slater, Bill Mumy, Peter Scolari, Henry Silva, Kate Mulgrew, and Elizabeth Montgomery. Ladies and gentlemen, that’s an amazing pedigree of actors and actresses on display.
Other Season Three highlights that really knocked my socks off include:
“Shadow of the Bat,” where viewers see a young Barbara Gordon prior to suffering the attack that would cripple her for life by the Joker);
“The Demon’s Quest,” a story involving the villainous Ra’s Al-Ghul, featuring wonderful dialogue interplay between Ra’s and Batman courtesy of legendary Batman scribe Denny O’Neil;
“Read my Lips,” a great yarn scripted by Joe Lansdale, the notable short story writer behind “Bubba Ho-Tep,” which would later be turned into a movie with Bruce Campbell in the lead;
“Sideshow,” a unique character study examining what makes baddies tick, showcasing the character Killer Croc;
“Bane,” with Henry Silva as the voice of the title character!
“Showdown,” which is another Ra’s Al-Ghul story, this time tossing Jonah Hex into the mix. It’s mainly a flashback episode book ended by Batman in the present. Normally, I hate this type of episode…but a script by Joe Lansdale manages to suck me in;
“Harley’s Holiday,” penned by Paul Dini, which begs me to ask, How often does an animated series take the time to do a character study of a side-character? Hats off to Mr. Dini.
My only quibble with the box set was the few offerings in the Special Features department. There’s a short piece on Batgirl called “Gotham’s New Knight.” Dini, Timm, and several others discuss the character and her relationship with Batman. There are audio commentaries on “Harlequinade” (with Timm, Dini, and composer Shirley Walker) and “Read My Lips” (with Timm, Dini, Walker, writer Michael Reaves and director Boyd Kirkland). There is a video commentary provided for the episode “House and Garden,” with Timm, Dini, Kirkland, Reaves, and Walker). All of the commentaries were interesting to hear, but it left me wanting more.
Viewers know that a lot of love went into BATMAN: THE ANIMATED SERIES. It had solid artwork, tight animation, and nuanced writing. The regular cast of voice actors sold their parts. Taken on a whole, BATMAN: TAS Vol. 3 added another layer to the series that would raise the animation medium (and the Batman mythos) to a whole new level. (Special thanks to Jen G. and crew at Warner Bros. and guest contributor Jerry Unangst)
In-house notes: My output here at the Moviepoopshoot mothership has been sporadic at best lately. I apologize and I want to assure you that I’ll be returning to my (mostly) weekly column beginning with this edition of Squib Central. The reason behind the delay is simply because I’ve been working on some side projects, one of which I’ve been asked not to reveal in any great length (I can say it’ll be one of the coolest, uh, things you’ll see this year), and the other is a damn fine magazine that I’ve contributed to (and is available for purchase and ready to ship) at www.PennyBlood.com. The magazine, issue #3, features THE DEVIL’S REJECTS’ Sid Haig on the cover, and features two interviews conducted by yours truly (my personal favorite being the somewhat off-center discussion I had with genre icon Richard Matheson). By the way, although the debut issue is sold out, issue #2 is still available and features an outstanding interview with Clive Barker.
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The Hit Squad vs. The Shit List (for the week of Monday, June 20, 2005):
Hit Squad: Jack Ketchum: THE GIRL NEXT DOOR, now available in mass-marketed paperback, meaning you’ll be able to find it pretty much anywhere, maybe even right between the chewing gum and the batteries at your local grocery store’s check-out lines. It’s the one book any self-respecting student of the crime scene should own. And now you’ve got no excuses. Also available is OFFSPRING, Ketchum’s sequel to OFF SEASON, available over at www.overlookconnection.com.
Shit List: Tom Cruise: Dig the movies. Tired of the act.
Hit Squad: The Pink Floyd one-off reunion: Money, it’s a gas. Sure as hell beats another Kiss or Van Halen tour.
Shit List: Kelly Osbourne lands herself back in rehab. If she can learn that much from her old man Ozzy, why can’t she at least learn how to make tolerable music?
Hit Squad: KNB’s Greg Nicotero, the original Sensei of Squib, whose gory bloodfeast can be seen in Romero’s new LAND OF THE DEAD, gets mad props in the form of a five-page spread in Entertainment Weekly.
Praise for the writing of Josh Jabcuga, who pens Squib Central with ink made from his own blood, published every Thursday, exclusively at www.moviepoopshoot.com:
"You’re a bad influence on them, I’ll tell you right now." -Max Cavalera, lead singer of Soulfly, former lead singer of Brazilian death metal icons Sepultura.
I read your article and you my dear are a true
ASSHOLE!!! Wonder how you landed your job, desperation???"-Angie (last name unknown; article mentioned...unknown).
“Josh Jabcuga can take the 26 measly letters of our crude alphabet and capture the bi-polar soul of all that is classically yet disturbingly American. Then, when his typewriter is left to cool, he can turn right around…completely ready to trounce any drunk punk that’s got me backed into a corner.” –The Colonel J.D. Wilkes of The Legendary Shack*Shakers.
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