It's been a long time since we had an installment of "Budget DVD Theater" on the site, but I have found--no, I have procured--the perfect vehicle to resume the series.
It is with some trepidation that I take this step, though, because the material that I will re-watch for this is so bad that it may ruin me for any other material I watch on DVD for weeks afterward. I first saw it maybe 15 years ago on VHS, and I "enjoyed" it because it was so bad. My father and I had a great time watching it and trying to decipher it ("Is this SUPPOSED to be like this? Was that MEANT to be like that?"), but guess what? This time, my dad isn't going to be here with me.
You'll notice I have not mentioned WHAT I will actually be watching and blogging about. Well, I am committed enough to post this announcement/warning, but I figure if I don't name names, I can back out before I actually do it. I can't yet guarantee I can make it through this the second time around without the sounding board of my father. Then there's the uncertainty that stems from owning this material in DVD format. Will the picture and sound be better? Do I WANT it to be? It's possible the worst way to experience this is in digitally remastered visual and audio glory.
I'm giving myself until Thanksgiving to watch and write about this thing, and if I have the guts to go through with it, Budget DVD Theater will resume on Thanksgiving, a special holiday treat for everyone whose stomachs will already be strained by massive doses of turkey.
Monday, November 15, 2010
Sunday, November 14, 2010
Brooks on Books: Steinbrenner: The Last Lion of Baseball by Bill Madden
OK, Yankees owner George Steinbrenner did a lot of nice things for people, and he built a huge empire out of what had been practically a moribund (if storied) franchise when he bought the team in the seventies. But the guy could still be a massive jerk, and I think some of that was conveniently forgotten when he passed away earlier this year. Bill Madden's addictive, entertaining biography of the larger-than-life figure reminds us that the legendary Boss caused a lot of pain in his life.
Madden has covered the Yankees for decades, written several previous books on the team, and is well connected enough to deliver an insightful biography. One thing that distinguishes this work from previous efforts is Madden's use of audiotapes recorded by former exec Gabe Paul. It's a great read, not least because the bad aspects of ol' George are just so darned amusing. There are tons of "George is nuts" and "George is evil" stories in here, but Madden doesn't write a hatchet job. He does attempt to provide some balance where it's necessary. For example, the account of how former commissioner Fay Vincent suspended Steinbrenner from baseball is an eye-opener to anyone who buys into the image of Vincent as humble caretaker of the game's best interests; Madden does a solid job of reporting what a snow job Steinbrenner got in this particular instance and is clearly sympathetic to his side of things.
But when you read the text, what jumps out are those anecdotes. My favorite "George is nuts" story: In 1978, then-GM Al Rosen was in the AL offices to do a coin flip with the Red Sox to determine where a possible one-game playoff would be if the teams tied atop the East. Rosen called heads, the coin came up tails, and so Fenway would host the playoff. When Rosen called the Boss, Steinbrenner asked how he could have lost and what he called. Rosen said, "Heads," drawing this reply:
"Heads? You f------ imbecile! How in the hell could you call heads when any dummy knows tails comes up 70% of the time? I can't believe it! I've got the dumbest f------ people in baseball working for me!"
He then hung up, leaving Rosen to contemplate whether the owner was in fact crazy.
Perhaps my "favorite" George is evil tale comes when Yankee team counsel Ed Broderick lost a salary arbitration case to catcher Rick Cerone, generating a predictable response from the Boss, who called the poor attorney a "f------ idiot," before hanging up, then calling back with this:
"OK, Broderick, you lost and it's your fault, so this is what we're going to do. Monday is the Presidents Day holiday, and everybody up there was planning to have the day off, right? Well, you tell each and every one person in the office that, because you lost the Cerone case, they all have to work a full day Monday. You got that?"
Steinbrenner eventually "showed some heart" by letting everyone go home at 1pm--except Broderick.
The book is loaded with this stuff, and it's great fun to consume it. Even the stories that are familiar--the numerous scuffles with Billy Martin and Reggie, the constant badgering of employees, and so on--are worth reliving. Baseball may need the Yankees to be prominent, and it may even have benefited from the presence of an easy villain figure like Steinbrenner, but...jeez.
Madden does not do a lot of psychoanalysis. He makes clear the difficult relationship Steinbrenner had with his hard-ass father and provides evidence that it was the number one driving force in the son's life, but he doesn't dig too deeply into speculation and armchair psychiatry. The man himself kept his private life private, and there isn't a whole lot of insight into what makes him "tick" or what he did outside of baseball, for that matter.
The book is subtitled "The Last Lion of Baseball," and it really is the saga of Steinbrenner in baseball. There is enough material about the shipbuilding and some other aspects, but there are some areas left relatively unexplored. For example, Madden writes, "people close to him believed that the Olympics were always his first love, even more than the Yankees." Yet there is little in this bio about his work on the U.S. Olympic Committee.
But the reason we read this book is for the Yankees material, all those great stories from the glory years when the Boss was a cartoonish figure looming over his team and the entire sport. Madden's fine biography is a fair look at a notorious man, but it's hard to come away from it thinking anything but that the guy was at best a real piece of work and at worst a pretty bad guy.
Madden has covered the Yankees for decades, written several previous books on the team, and is well connected enough to deliver an insightful biography. One thing that distinguishes this work from previous efforts is Madden's use of audiotapes recorded by former exec Gabe Paul. It's a great read, not least because the bad aspects of ol' George are just so darned amusing. There are tons of "George is nuts" and "George is evil" stories in here, but Madden doesn't write a hatchet job. He does attempt to provide some balance where it's necessary. For example, the account of how former commissioner Fay Vincent suspended Steinbrenner from baseball is an eye-opener to anyone who buys into the image of Vincent as humble caretaker of the game's best interests; Madden does a solid job of reporting what a snow job Steinbrenner got in this particular instance and is clearly sympathetic to his side of things.
But when you read the text, what jumps out are those anecdotes. My favorite "George is nuts" story: In 1978, then-GM Al Rosen was in the AL offices to do a coin flip with the Red Sox to determine where a possible one-game playoff would be if the teams tied atop the East. Rosen called heads, the coin came up tails, and so Fenway would host the playoff. When Rosen called the Boss, Steinbrenner asked how he could have lost and what he called. Rosen said, "Heads," drawing this reply:
"Heads? You f------ imbecile! How in the hell could you call heads when any dummy knows tails comes up 70% of the time? I can't believe it! I've got the dumbest f------ people in baseball working for me!"
He then hung up, leaving Rosen to contemplate whether the owner was in fact crazy.
Perhaps my "favorite" George is evil tale comes when Yankee team counsel Ed Broderick lost a salary arbitration case to catcher Rick Cerone, generating a predictable response from the Boss, who called the poor attorney a "f------ idiot," before hanging up, then calling back with this:
"OK, Broderick, you lost and it's your fault, so this is what we're going to do. Monday is the Presidents Day holiday, and everybody up there was planning to have the day off, right? Well, you tell each and every one person in the office that, because you lost the Cerone case, they all have to work a full day Monday. You got that?"
Steinbrenner eventually "showed some heart" by letting everyone go home at 1pm--except Broderick.
The book is loaded with this stuff, and it's great fun to consume it. Even the stories that are familiar--the numerous scuffles with Billy Martin and Reggie, the constant badgering of employees, and so on--are worth reliving. Baseball may need the Yankees to be prominent, and it may even have benefited from the presence of an easy villain figure like Steinbrenner, but...jeez.
Madden does not do a lot of psychoanalysis. He makes clear the difficult relationship Steinbrenner had with his hard-ass father and provides evidence that it was the number one driving force in the son's life, but he doesn't dig too deeply into speculation and armchair psychiatry. The man himself kept his private life private, and there isn't a whole lot of insight into what makes him "tick" or what he did outside of baseball, for that matter.
The book is subtitled "The Last Lion of Baseball," and it really is the saga of Steinbrenner in baseball. There is enough material about the shipbuilding and some other aspects, but there are some areas left relatively unexplored. For example, Madden writes, "people close to him believed that the Olympics were always his first love, even more than the Yankees." Yet there is little in this bio about his work on the U.S. Olympic Committee.
But the reason we read this book is for the Yankees material, all those great stories from the glory years when the Boss was a cartoonish figure looming over his team and the entire sport. Madden's fine biography is a fair look at a notorious man, but it's hard to come away from it thinking anything but that the guy was at best a real piece of work and at worst a pretty bad guy.
Friday, November 12, 2010
Put on a happy face!
I love visiting TV Shows on DVD to read the latest news releases about upcoming official products. I think the guys who run it do have a passion for the site, and it's nice having a fairly credible source where one can quickly determine the status of a series on disc.
BUT...the approach there is a little bit too "cheerleader" for my tastes sometimes. Take this week's news item about the new Time-Life "Six Million Dollar Man" complete series set. The exclusion of a blooper reel that had been previously announced is not in and of itself a huge deal, but I'm sure it's a bummer for fans; more to the point, in my view, is that this is announced at the last minute as the boxes are shipping. I'm not suggesting anyone ordered this expensive set just for that particular feature, but it seems at least a little shady for the company to give out this info at the last minute, and besides, it's at least a downer for purchasers to get one less (potentially cool) component.
But if you entertain any of these downer thoughts, just read this:
I can only imagine what would have happened had Time Life forgot to include one of the seasons:
It's regrettable that Time Life ignored an entire season, but there are still 32 out of 40 DVDs to enjoy! That's 80% of the complete series!
Or if Time Life accidentally packaged "The Bionic Woman" in the boxes instead of "Man":
It's regrettable that Time Life made this mishap, but we're still getting a long-awaited classic we've been waiting for so long! I can't wait to get my copy of whichever series is included, and we're sure you'll feel the same.
BUT...the approach there is a little bit too "cheerleader" for my tastes sometimes. Take this week's news item about the new Time-Life "Six Million Dollar Man" complete series set. The exclusion of a blooper reel that had been previously announced is not in and of itself a huge deal, but I'm sure it's a bummer for fans; more to the point, in my view, is that this is announced at the last minute as the boxes are shipping. I'm not suggesting anyone ordered this expensive set just for that particular feature, but it seems at least a little shady for the company to give out this info at the last minute, and besides, it's at least a downer for purchasers to get one less (potentially cool) component.
But if you entertain any of these downer thoughts, just read this:
I can only imagine what would have happened had Time Life forgot to include one of the seasons:
It's regrettable that Time Life ignored an entire season, but there are still 32 out of 40 DVDs to enjoy! That's 80% of the complete series!
Or if Time Life accidentally packaged "The Bionic Woman" in the boxes instead of "Man":
It's regrettable that Time Life made this mishap, but we're still getting a long-awaited classic we've been waiting for so long! I can't wait to get my copy of whichever series is included, and we're sure you'll feel the same.
Thursday, November 11, 2010
Two movies that just kind of go too far: Date Night and Taking of Pelham 123
How's THAT for a double feature?
I recently watched a couple movies that, while enjoyable experiences overall, just went a little too far.
Take Shawn Levy's comedy "Date Night," starring Tina Fey and Steve Carrell. Mrs. Shark and I sat down one night and enjoyed this, and not just because we could identify somewhat with the difficulties of integrating romantic spontaneity into domestic family life. More important for "Date Night's" comic effectiveness is that the leads are funny people who share good chemistry and make a believable and likable screen couple.
Really, all we need in "Date Night" is to see this man and wife get into a some mixups based on the initial misstep of taking someone's dinner reservation. We expect some chuckles, some embarrassment, and maybe a deepening of their love. That's all fine, and we do get that. But we also get a huge over-the-top car chase. It's like Levy, or possibly someone above him, doesn't think audiences will sit still for "just" comedy if it isn't accompanied by high-octane action.
Maybe the teenyboppers would get restless, but think about it: The audience that can identify with this movie is possibly on a date night itself. These people will sit still and enjoy the movie, or at least try very hard, because they're out of the house. What, they're gonna waste a sitter? (Granted, I saw this on home video, but it's not like I was going anywhere.)
"Date Night" is funny, but it would be a better movie if it concentrated on delivering what's there and what the audience wants instead of trying to make something a "thrill ride" akin to Levy's "Night at the Museum."
I also enjoyed "The Taking of Pelham 123," Tony Scott's remake of the 1974 thriller. I won't discuss the similarities and differences because it's been too long since I saw the original, but I will say that for much of its running time, "Pelham" makes good use of ITS best asset: the fine casting of John Travolta and Denzel Washington.
Really, the main reason to even do this is to pit Travolta, in exuberant bad guy mode, against D-Wash and let the sparks fly. Though they don't physically share the same space, the two develop their own chemistry, and it's a lot of fun seeing John's deranged subway hijacker's verbal exchanges with Denzel's demoted metro employee. James Gandolfini as the mayor does good work here, too, and you'll never see me complain about the presence of Luis Guzman in a movie, but the real show is the two stars.
Tony Scott does a nice job of keeping them apart but maintaining tension, until he doesn't. I don't want to venture too far into spoiler territory, but at a certain point, the tension we have been feeling apparently isn't enough, and the story gets into some action movie business. Tony Scott is actually more subtle than one might expect, and it's not like this train totally derails (I sincerely apologize), but this change in tone takes away whatever uniqueness of the film has.
I understand why things play out the way they do, but I can't help but think this screenplay could have unfolded differently. As it is, "Pelham" is a surprisingly effective thriller that loses a little something when it tries to take it up a notch.
I recently watched a couple movies that, while enjoyable experiences overall, just went a little too far.
Take Shawn Levy's comedy "Date Night," starring Tina Fey and Steve Carrell. Mrs. Shark and I sat down one night and enjoyed this, and not just because we could identify somewhat with the difficulties of integrating romantic spontaneity into domestic family life. More important for "Date Night's" comic effectiveness is that the leads are funny people who share good chemistry and make a believable and likable screen couple.
Really, all we need in "Date Night" is to see this man and wife get into a some mixups based on the initial misstep of taking someone's dinner reservation. We expect some chuckles, some embarrassment, and maybe a deepening of their love. That's all fine, and we do get that. But we also get a huge over-the-top car chase. It's like Levy, or possibly someone above him, doesn't think audiences will sit still for "just" comedy if it isn't accompanied by high-octane action.
Maybe the teenyboppers would get restless, but think about it: The audience that can identify with this movie is possibly on a date night itself. These people will sit still and enjoy the movie, or at least try very hard, because they're out of the house. What, they're gonna waste a sitter? (Granted, I saw this on home video, but it's not like I was going anywhere.)
"Date Night" is funny, but it would be a better movie if it concentrated on delivering what's there and what the audience wants instead of trying to make something a "thrill ride" akin to Levy's "Night at the Museum."
I also enjoyed "The Taking of Pelham 123," Tony Scott's remake of the 1974 thriller. I won't discuss the similarities and differences because it's been too long since I saw the original, but I will say that for much of its running time, "Pelham" makes good use of ITS best asset: the fine casting of John Travolta and Denzel Washington.
Really, the main reason to even do this is to pit Travolta, in exuberant bad guy mode, against D-Wash and let the sparks fly. Though they don't physically share the same space, the two develop their own chemistry, and it's a lot of fun seeing John's deranged subway hijacker's verbal exchanges with Denzel's demoted metro employee. James Gandolfini as the mayor does good work here, too, and you'll never see me complain about the presence of Luis Guzman in a movie, but the real show is the two stars.
Tony Scott does a nice job of keeping them apart but maintaining tension, until he doesn't. I don't want to venture too far into spoiler territory, but at a certain point, the tension we have been feeling apparently isn't enough, and the story gets into some action movie business. Tony Scott is actually more subtle than one might expect, and it's not like this train totally derails (I sincerely apologize), but this change in tone takes away whatever uniqueness of the film has.
I understand why things play out the way they do, but I can't help but think this screenplay could have unfolded differently. As it is, "Pelham" is a surprisingly effective thriller that loses a little something when it tries to take it up a notch.
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
This Week in DVD
Grown-Ups: This looks totally infantile if not stupid, and I don't even particularly want to see a bunch of these guys go through another juvenile comedy--oh, hell, who am I kidding? It has Salma Hayek, so I'll probably see it eventually.
Scott Pilgrim vs. the World: Judging by the (lack of) reaction to this in theaters, I think this is more like Michael Cera vs. Everyone Who's Sick of Him.
Love Ranch: Basically, Joe Pesci as the owner of a brothel. Hey, don't blame me for any nightmarish images you carry with you the rest of the day. We Report, You Cringe.
Elia Kazan Collection: Big, ol' humongous box set from Fox proves that the studio is still in the classics-on-DVD business--or does it? A few single-disc releases would be nice, you know, or something besides those nifty 4-to-a-box value packs I see all over the place at Target. When Fox teased that "A Tree Grows in Brooklyn" would be available in 2010, I kind of figured one wouldn't have to pay 200 bucks to get it.
Hunt to Kill: I'm just listing this here to remind everyone that Stone Cold Steve Austin still has a lively and profitable acting career.
Knucklehead: The Big Show, on the other hand, maybe isn't so much a viable direct-to-video star. Oh, this one had a token theatrical release, but I think we all know this ain't worth much. Nevertheless, the presence of Dennis Farina and, even more random, Mark Feurstein as a mixed martial artist, makes me almost want to watch this.
I Knew It Was You: This documentary about died-too-young actor John Cazale is really well done, but when I saw it on HBO, it was something like 45 minutes. Unless there are some awesome bonus features--and it doesn't seem that there are--this probably doesn't warrant a buy at regular price, even if you love Cazale and his work.
Men of a Certain Age Season 1: Hey, this is really good, too. Catch up now so we can all check out season 2 together on TNT in a few weeks (Wow, it's almost December already?)
Sherlock Season 1: OK, while you're catching up on "Men of a Certain Age," I'm gonna catch up on this 3-episode Sherlock Holmes revamp, which currently sits on my DVR.
Superman/Shazam: The Return of Black Adam: Not actually a new feature film from DC animated despite what the packaging implies, but a compilation of shorts, most of which have been on previous Blu-Ray and special edition DVDs. So Warner Brothers is compounding the ripoff of withholding special features for the pricier editions by tying them into a misleading NEW edition.
Bing Crosby TV Specials Volume 2 (Christmas Specials): So I guess if Netflix hasn't gotten around to carrying Volume 1, I probably shouldn't count on renting this in time for Christmas, huh? Thanks a lot, Ebenezer Netflix.
Monday, November 8, 2010
The Wonderful World of TCM: Home Run on the Keys (1937)
I had long wanted to see this Vitaphone short film starring baseball legend Babe Ruth, and when TCM aired it as part of a mini-baseball movie marathon a few weeks back, well, I finally got my chance.
After I saw it, I googled it and realized it's widely available on the Internet, and I felt like a complete moron. But, hey, just because I could have seen this one on the web doesn't make Turner Classic any less wonderful for showing it.
All I had ever seen was the thrilling climax of this short subject, and that's the Bambino dressed in formal wear in front of an orchestra, awkwardly reciting lines like "Strike one," and "Ball one," while waving his arms stiffly. The buildup to this scenario couldn't possibly be as amusing, and, no, it isn't. But the short is still essential viewing for the comedy value of the Babe's "performance" alone.
The film opens with the Sultan of Swat doing what he always does in the offseason: Spending time on a hunting trip in a small cabin with a group of dudes. Note some of the words missing from that sentence, words like "broads" and "booze." Yep, even before we get to Maestro Bambino in the studio, we have reason to question the verisimilitude of this film.
Speaking of truthiness, Babe tells his version (at least his 1937) version of his legendary "called shot" home run in the '32 World Series. You know how baseball historians have researched this story and found a lot of ambiguity? Well, there ain't none of that pesky ambiguity here. Babe called his home run off Charlie Root, and as longtime Yankee announcer Mel Allen might say, "There was no doubt about it!"
Anyway, one of the Babe's pals is working on a tune for an upcoming radio broadcast, and he's having a tough go of it until, what do you know, Ruth dazzles the group with his own songwriting prowess. After hearing the song on the piano (the guys may have forgot the women and the spirits, but, by gum, they made darn sure that cabin had a piano) he tells everyone to do a "Home run on the keys," which consists of plunking a few ivories while imitating a home plate umpire. Instead of telling him, "Hey, did we ever tell you how to hit a curve?" the gang rejoices, embracing Babe's contribution as if it were Bruce Dickinson calling for "more cowbell."
My first reaction is, uh, can we hear that story about the '32 Series again? But I'm glad the story continues, because we go into the radio studio for a live performance. After we hear a couple of kids do their song (sorry to give them short shrift, but it's like if Alvaro Espinoza batted ahead of Babe Ruth--we just want to get to the big guy). The emcee beckons him to the mic and tells him to let the audience know what he's gonna do, and then Ruth feigns total ignorance of the concept of radio. "Well, I can't tell a crowd that I can't see," he protests. He quickly gets the hang of it, though, doing a little patter before delivering that immortal performance of "Home Run on the Keys."
"Play ball! Strike one! Strike two! Foul ball..."
For me, the wait for this gem was well worth it, though it still stings to know it was on YouTube a year ago! Some folks might think corny stuff like this takes away from the legend of Babe Ruth, but I think it only enhances it. Sure, the clip is a little goofy, but Ruth comes off as a swell guy, and there is a charm to it that MLB couldn't hope to capture today.
Were audiences in 1937 better off not hearing so much about the more tawdry aspects of the Babe Ruth story? Were they able to enjoy this on a purer, more sincere level? Perhaps. However, seeing it in 2010 is still a joyous experience, even while chuckling about some of the aspects of it--OK, all of the aspects of it.
The film opens with the Sultan of Swat doing what he always does in the offseason: Spending time on a hunting trip in a small cabin with a group of dudes. Note some of the words missing from that sentence, words like "broads" and "booze." Yep, even before we get to Maestro Bambino in the studio, we have reason to question the verisimilitude of this film.
Speaking of truthiness, Babe tells his version (at least his 1937) version of his legendary "called shot" home run in the '32 World Series. You know how baseball historians have researched this story and found a lot of ambiguity? Well, there ain't none of that pesky ambiguity here. Babe called his home run off Charlie Root, and as longtime Yankee announcer Mel Allen might say, "There was no doubt about it!"
Anyway, one of the Babe's pals is working on a tune for an upcoming radio broadcast, and he's having a tough go of it until, what do you know, Ruth dazzles the group with his own songwriting prowess. After hearing the song on the piano (the guys may have forgot the women and the spirits, but, by gum, they made darn sure that cabin had a piano) he tells everyone to do a "Home run on the keys," which consists of plunking a few ivories while imitating a home plate umpire. Instead of telling him, "Hey, did we ever tell you how to hit a curve?" the gang rejoices, embracing Babe's contribution as if it were Bruce Dickinson calling for "more cowbell."
My first reaction is, uh, can we hear that story about the '32 Series again? But I'm glad the story continues, because we go into the radio studio for a live performance. After we hear a couple of kids do their song (sorry to give them short shrift, but it's like if Alvaro Espinoza batted ahead of Babe Ruth--we just want to get to the big guy). The emcee beckons him to the mic and tells him to let the audience know what he's gonna do, and then Ruth feigns total ignorance of the concept of radio. "Well, I can't tell a crowd that I can't see," he protests. He quickly gets the hang of it, though, doing a little patter before delivering that immortal performance of "Home Run on the Keys."
"Play ball! Strike one! Strike two! Foul ball..."
For me, the wait for this gem was well worth it, though it still stings to know it was on YouTube a year ago! Some folks might think corny stuff like this takes away from the legend of Babe Ruth, but I think it only enhances it. Sure, the clip is a little goofy, but Ruth comes off as a swell guy, and there is a charm to it that MLB couldn't hope to capture today.
Were audiences in 1937 better off not hearing so much about the more tawdry aspects of the Babe Ruth story? Were they able to enjoy this on a purer, more sincere level? Perhaps. However, seeing it in 2010 is still a joyous experience, even while chuckling about some of the aspects of it--OK, all of the aspects of it.
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