Life After Death: The Cult Classic That is Clue
It boggles the mind to think that the 1985 comedic murder mystery, Clue flatlined upon its initial theatrical release. Opening on December 13, 1985, the film, co-conceived by John Landis, and based on the classic Parker Brothers’ board game, was up against The Jewel of the Nile, the sequel to the successful adventure-comedy, Romancing the Stone, with Rocky IV and Landis’ Spies Like Us also continuing to do well commercially. One thing I don’t understand (one thing?): Why Clue didn’t get an October or Halloween-season release-date, considering its murder-mystery genre.
However, with the help of cable television, and the birth of the VHS rental market, Clue was brought back to life by viewers, in their living rooms, with the remote control. From John Morris’ Hitchcockian, Bernard Herrmann-inspired orchestral score during its opening credits, to the solid cast of “colorful” characters that the viewer meets one by one as each arrives at a spooky manor on a dark and stormy night, Clue is “cozy murder” at its best.
The screenplay’s mid-1950’s timeframe allowed the director and screenwriter, Jonathan Lynn, to weave in satirical jabs at McCarthyism, conservative moral codes, even good ol’ fashioned capitalism. But mostly, Clue works because of the sharp lines of dialogue, quickly delivered between characters. Tim Curry’s Wadsworth, the Butler, not only tidies up the kitchen and the dining room, but takes it upon himself (as a workingman’s Hercule Poirot) to neatly wrap up the mystery via a zany, fast-paced, cartoon-caliber reenactment of the evening’s events, where the viewer discovers the whodunit and two other who(could’ve)dunits.
Repeated airings and rentals in the ‘80s and ‘90s, and purchases, of Clue have earned the film a large fan base, to the point where it’s easily reached cult-classic status. In particular, Madeline Kahn’s improvised “flames” monologue is a fan favorite, and probably the movie’s most recited section.
Long story short (too late): Clue certainly proves that just because something doesn’t break box-office records doesn’t mean it’s destined for the bargain bin and into obscurity; with a strong ensemble cast, a witty script full of memorable lines, and the support of a deeply loyal following, a film such as Clue can take on a life (after death) of its own.
Bundle Up: Four Films for Fall
For many of us, skies are still blue and temps are still warm. So it may be hard to get into fall-season feels. But before you know it, nature’s A/C will kick in, and we’ll find ourselves wanting to bundle up under a throw, and get all comfy, cozy, and ready to watch a fall-season flick. Here are four films that are the motion-picture equivalent of a great big hug, ones that make you feel warm, not like on a summer day, but in a warm and fuzzy kind of way:
Screen Time
The 1998 Nora Ephron film, You’ve Got Mail delivers fall-season vibes big time: Tom Hanks; Meg Ryan; a witty rom-com script; New York in the fall (“makes me wanna buy school supplies”); a heartwarming soundtrack; the unforgettable Parker “I’m having my eyes lasered” Posey. Back then, it was dial-up email, now it’s Wi-Fi, social media, and sliding into someone’s DMs that can create love connections. Classic cinematic themes of opposite attract, the importance of internal beauty, and a tireless faith (fate) in love make this a fall-season film essential.
“I didn’t know who you were with.”
Right from the opening credits, which glides the viewer into a beautiful apartment, drapes flapping in the cool breeze, to a buffet table of savory selections, this film is the epitome of cozy cinema.
Come on in!
And remember, “that caviar is a garnish!”
“You’re taking all the caviar?!”
Change of Heart
Nine years prior to You’ve Got Mail, there was Rob Reiner’s When Harry Met Sally… The Nora Ephron-penned screenplay gave new life to the romantic comedy, allowing the viewer to watch the relationship between a man and a woman, the former who believes men and women can’t be friends, develop into just that, and eventually something more. Like summer turning into fall, the film is all about transition: each goes through a major breakup (Harry with Helen, Sally with Joe); the passage of time, complete with changes in fashion and hairstyles; and most significantly, time, and life lessons, cultivate a slightly more mature Harry, and a slightly less persnickety Sally. No one is completely transformed, but each undergoes a change of heart, entertaining the notion of letting someone in, not just someone new, but someone drastically different.
During the scene that has Harry (Billy Crystal) and Sally (Meg Ryan) walking through the park, Sally sharing details (or lack thereof) of a longstanding sexual fantasy, the cinematographer, Barry Sonnenfeld captures the various orange hues and verdant shades of green in the trees. Just as the colors of the leaves begin to change, a natural visual indicator of autumn’s arrival, a shift begins for Harry and Sally. Sharing of a sexual fantasy is reserved for a more intimate bond, but here it’s shared in the context of a budding, once highly unlikely, friendship.
“Well sometimes I vary it a little.”
In another scene, Sally, in a warm and toasty red turtleneck, confides in Harry about why she and Joe broke up. The “I spy a family” monologue is Ephron prose at its best. Sally mentions at the start of her story how she and Joe “wanted exactly the same thing.” But by the end of the story, they reach a crossroads, their “wants” become “needs”; it’s another change of heart, but it’s the type that divides people apart, instead of drawing them together.
“And I started to cry.”
As the film reaches its climax, not of the iconic deli-scene kind, it’s no surprise that it takes place on New Year’s Eve, the ultimate time of the year that signifies transition. Ephron writes another heartfelt monologue, this time Harry expressing an epiphany: “… When you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible.” I’ll have what he’s having.
“I love that it takes you an hour and a half to order a sandwich.”
Shue In
This next movie may not immediately conjure up images of autumn, or New York in the fall, but Chris Columbus’ Adventures in Babysitting has that fall-season state of mind. The 1987 comedy is set partially in the Chicago suburbs, and Columbus once again captures crisp, upper-middle-class living, suddenly turned upside down (a theme he would continue to explore in 1990’s Home Alone and 1994’s Mrs. Doubtfire).
Elisabeth Shue stars as Chris Parker, a suburban teen turned reluctant babysitter. Chris and the trio of kids now in her care are forced to leave the sheltered confines of suburban life, and head into the big, bad city to pick up Chris’ friend, Brenda (Penelope Ann Miller), who’s stuck in a downtown bus station. En route, everything that could possibly go wrong, does, and Chris must tap into her highly underdeveloped street smarts.
Shue’s Chris Parker is the anti-Ferris, an underrated heroine of the ‘80s teen-comedy genre.
All the while, Chris tries to stay cool, and keeps warm, wearing gloves, a multicolored striped scarf, and a long brown coat that she inherited from her grandfather. A gold heart-shaped brooch rounds out the look; all are style cues indicative of Chris’ inherent maturity, and capability, well beyond her years. By film’s end, the character of Chris becomes the anti-Ferris, an underrated heroine of the ‘80s teen-comedy genre. Shue is lovable, relatable, and completely convincing in the role as the “every girl” in extraordinary circumstances.
The adventure begins.
And we can’t forget Thor-obsessed Sarah (Maia Brewton), the coolest tyke on roller skates.
“You want some orange?”
Mama Drama
Chris Columbus’ films showing the family structure in disarray still managed to have a comedic tone; Mrs. Doubtfire the prime example of this, as it tackled divorce, and what happens when a parent is replaced by someone who not only fills the void, but seemingly fills the position better. In 1998’s Stepmom, Columbus continued with the theme of divorce and parental replacement, but added more turmoil and tears.
Susan Sarandon’s Jackie Harrison is co-parenting two children with ex-husband, Luke (Ed Harris) and his new girlfriend, Isabel (Julia Roberts). Jackie and Isabel are at odds, with one of their wars of words taking place on a fall-leaf-covered battlefield, a fitting environment for Jackie to reveal her cancer diagnosis to Isabel.
“You guessed the wrong secret.”
Behind Isabel, the trees are alive and green, but cut to Jackie, and she almost blends into a background of fallen orange and yellow leaves, and somber earth tones. It’s after this exchange that their relationship softens, temporarily, and for the moment the tears dry, with death at one point even seen as comic relief. A Thanksgiving-themed school play features Jackie’s son, Ben (Liam Aiken) as a flying turkey (on wires) that is shot by prop bows and arrows, and muskets. A horrified Isabel asks Jackie: “Is he dead?” to which an unfazed Jackie replies: “Yeah, they killed him, but he does it so great!”
“Are you dying?”
The story continues through the fall, and into winter, culminating in the emotional “And you can have their future” scene, the beautiful midnight horse ride, and finally, a warmhearted Christmas morning, with Ben, a budding magician, receiving a gold cage with a white dove as a surprise gift; the dove also serving as a symbol of peace, the newest member of the Harrison family.
“Not today!”
So when that autumn chill begins to fill the air, get comfy on the couch with one, or all four, of these fall-inspired flicks. Which one will you bundle up with first?
Plié Your Respects: Ann Reinking, Angels and All That Jazz
The dancer, actress and choreographer, Ann Reinking had a professional, and throughout most of the ’70s, a personal relationship with choreographer, Bob Fosse. In his semi-autobiographical film fantasy, All That Jazz, Reinking was perhaps at her most inspiring. As Kate Jagger (essentially playing herself), she delivered convincingly (perhaps pulling from an all-too-familiar reality) an exhausted, heartfelt plea to Roy Scheider’s philandering Joe (Bob Fosse) Gideon: “I don’t wanna go out with Michael Graham, I don’t wanna date, I have no more small talk left. I don’t wanna fool around, I don’t wanna play games, and I don’t wanna fight, I just… want… to love you.”
Although Joe is callous about casual sex, wound up about work and lousy at love, Kate remains ever-supportive, even continuing to serve as surrogate older sister/guardian (angel) to Joe’s daughter, Michelle (Erzsébet Földi, playing Nicole Fosse, daughter of Bob Fosse and fellow dance legend, Gwen Verdon). After Joe receives less-than-stellar early reviews on his new film, The Standup, Kate and Michelle as “those two dancing sensations, Jagger and Gideon” express through “an unrehearsed tribute” how much they love Joe, regardless of the “el stink-o, el flop-o” critiques.
It’s here where Kate is the angelic light, displaying exuberance and elegance, even providing nurturing notes to Michelle mid-routine. And as Peter Allen’s “Everything Old is New Again” comes to a close, a stressed-out Joe forgets his troubles, and gets happy, well, displays a rare smile. It’s a fleeting moment of joy for him—and the audience—as Fosse quickly cuts the scene and puts Joe back in his familiar morning-hangover routine of Visine and Dexedrine, starting another dark day that’s sure to be filled with issues of self-worth, the futile pursuit of perfection, and self-destruction.
Later however, in one of Joe’s “hospital hallucinations,” Kate is as an angel of death of sorts, but one bedazzled in a black sequined bowler hat, high-cut leotard and tights nonetheless (a seductive Odile [the black swan] to her previous innocent Odette [the white swan] in a razzle-dazzle rendition of Tchaikovsky’s Swan Lake). In “There’ll Be Some Changes Made,” Kate warns Joe that the proverbial final curtain is about to come down if he keeps singing and dancing to the same ol’ tune. The light, in more ways than one, is about to go out.
As only Fosse (and Gideon) could do—as a director controlling how things should appear and move about—Joe imagines his death as one sparkly, soulful, acid-rock finale to life; in the audience are people from his past, including Kate, sitting next to who we can assume is Michael Graham, the dancer she references earlier in the film. Fosse respected Reinking and her talent so much that she is also cast here as one of the “anatomy angels” who dances alongside Joe and “death emcee,” O’Connor Flood (Ben Vereen). Joe takes his final bow, and in a dolly shot floats toward another light throughout the movie, Angelique, the film’s true angel of death (played by Jessica Lange, Fosse’s romantic interest at the time); leave it to Fosse to fantasize that death is a flirty female.
After the end credits, it wasn’t the end for Reinking, who appeared in the film version of the Broadway musical, Annie, and as Micki in the comedy, Micki & Maude. In the late ‘90s, she starred in and choreographed the revival of Chicago on Broadway, which earned her a Tony Award for Best Choreography, and later co-created, -directed and -choreographed the musical retrospective, Fosse. With Gwen Verdon’s passing in 2000, Reinking became one of the major torchbearers of Fosse’s artistic legacy, until December 12, 2020 when she passed away in her sleep, a graceful exit to join the angels.
All That Jazz cinematographer: Guiseppe Rotunno.
Double Trouble: Reflections on Brian De Palma’s Dressed to Kill
Brian De Palma’s Dressed to Kill is his (graphic) homage to Alfred Hitchcock’s 1960 classic, Psycho: Here’s a list of the some of the referential elements:
De Palma’s film incorporates not one, but two shower scenes;
Its female lead, Kate Miller (Angie Dickinson is to Janet Leigh’s Marion Crane; both characters essentially good women “gone bad”) is the “Hitchcock blond”;
Instead of a shower curtain, an elevator door is the temporary barrier that separates victim from killer, safety from harm, life from death;
Nancy Allen (is to Vera Miles) and Keith Gordon (is to John Gavin) step in as crime solvers;
Allen with a “tall blond” behind her and flickering lightning is to Miles with Anthony Perkins and a swinging lightbulb;
A psychiatrist (David Margulies to Simon Oakland) summarizes personality conflict, arousal and the human psyche.
Sunglasses At Night: Liz (Nancy Allen) and the “tall blond.”
Filmways Pictures. Cinematographer: Ralf D. Bode.
Also take note of duality as a running theme: Spoilers ahead: Besides De Palma’s signature split-screen technique, his script includes a scene where Michael Caine’s Dr. Elliott is on the phone in his office, taking the time to spell out his last name: “E; double l; i; o; double t,” plus there are a number of scenes involving mirrors: Elliot becoming startled when he catches his reflection in a mirror, with another occurrence shown in the trailer below; when Allen’s character, a call girl named Liz, seduces Elliott during a therapy session, he glances down to a mirror on his desk, and smirks devilishly. The audience also learns near the end of the film that there are two “tall blonds,” one with good intentions, the other, as already previously noted.
Although De Palma is certainly influenced by the Master of Suspense, he still manages to add his own visual stamps and a dreamy score by Pino Donaggio to create an enduring film that feels anything but a carbon copy.
Pop Playlist: Sheena Easton: “For Your Eyes Only”
This theme song to the 1981 James Bond film, featured Sheena Easton on vocals and in the opening credits, the only singer to appear as part of these signature, silhouette-heavy sequences. Easton’s vocals are crisp; the song’s verses are soft and seductive, using the classic espionage phrase as a parallel to convey the love, devotion and “fantasy you freed in me/only for you.” By the chorus, Easton lets this classified secret out, only to hide in the shadows of those intentionally softer verses once again, confirming “For Your Eyes Only” as a smartly constructed track. (Other Poptimum picks from this sensational singer: “Morning Train” as sweet pop vocalist, but by mid-’80s steered toward “bad-girl” singer [“Strut”; “Sugar Walls,” written by Prince; “U Got the Look” with Prince].)