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SAN FRANCISCO, Ca.--Red, released last year and now on DVD, is the kind of movie that makes one want to stand up and cheer, or it would if one weren't so comfortably ensconced on one's sofa, charmed to death by both the thought and the reality of an irony-laced thriller starring Bruce Willis, Mary-Louise Parker, John Malkovich, Morgan Freeman, Helen Mirren and Brian Cox.
Mr. Willis plays Frank Moses, a retired CIA officer whose specialty was "wet work," which every filmgoer over the age of six knows means assassination. Here's our question: has the CIA developed new code terms for its labors now that the old ones have infiltrated thriller scripts bad, good and indifferent for the past twenty years?
Frank falls for Mary-Louise Parker--as who wouldn't?--even as his past comes back to haunt him in the form of lots of people trying to kill him.
The plot, as it should be, is a cheerful shambles: something about Guatemala in 1981 and the Vice President and an assassinated New York Times reporter and a list of people to be killed by the nefarious powers behind the powers that do the thing over in the place at the time of--well, you get the picture. The whole thing is an excuse for cast members to do their expert thing, tongue firmly planted in cheek.
And do it they do. In the hands of, oh, say, Jason Statham, Red (that stands for "Retired--Extremely Dangerous") would be naught but a grim march. Thank the film gods that this one fell into the hands of such experienced, clever actors.
Mr. Willis, his face now hangdog-ish with age, is his usual wise-cracking and romantic self. The endlessly enchanting Mr. Freeman is a master at appearing to really listen to other actors/characters, a gift only outshined by his delightful smile. As an LSD-damaged ex-CIA conspiracy freak, John Malkovich offers the audience a broad wink: You and I know I'm always typecast as the crazy guy, so why don't we just relax and let me drift though this one, magnetism intact, acting chops subtly revved? Brian Cox, who will always be considered a character actor--and a gifted one, if there is a God--wears a Russian accent like he would a winter mink: with an amused flair and no little wit.
Ms. Parker, sublime, couldn't have put a foot wrong if director Robert Schwentke had held a poisonous snake to her throat. And is there anything more heartwarming than the sight of Ms. Mirren wielding dangerous firearms while dressed in a flowing white evening gown and, well, combat boots?
With the exception of Ms. Parker, Red cast members are in their fifties, sixties and seventies. The film is an offering to those of us who have been with them for the long haul. Will everyone be as charmed by the film? A younger filmgoer with whom we watched it certainly was, although, as he pointed out, "There's no sex scene!" Perhaps this is as it should be. Perhaps not.
In the end, it doesn't matter. Red has million-dollar talent on abundant display. And it's a whole lot of fun.
There's worse you could say about a movie.
CELLULOID-LAND, The Universe--We just watched a ten-year-old comedy called Sordid Lives and can't think of one reason you shouldn't too.
Shot for next to nothing, based on a play of the same name, and billed as "A Black Comey About White Trash," it stars the extraordinary Bonnie Bedelia and, in an expanded cameo, Olivia Newton-John.
Packed with vivid performances, the film tells the story of the death of a matriarch of a poor but spunky Texas family. Her passing sparks all manner of family and small-town drama both madcap and solemn.
The film's main theme is the way it takes courage to to live one's own life, propriety be damned. The matriarch's grandson struggles to be honest about being gay; her son comes to grips with being a Tammy Wynette-obsessed cross-dresser. One of her daughters and a friend go on a Thelma-and-Louise-inspired tear, confronting the men who have in some way denied them agency.
Sordid Lives also limns the importance of family, no matter how non-functioning the brood might be; the claustrophobic nature of life among the lovably eccentric characters in a small town; and the odd ways that, in the end, love, truth, and a solid sense of spirituality trump life's complexities.
If this sounds a little earnest, that's our fault. Sordid Lives is a fun little comedy, camp beyond compare. Do yourself a favor and see it. And invite friends over. It's no fun to laugh alone.
(A side note: the movie contains gay themes and momentary full-frontal male nudity. If this is a problem for you, then why on earth are you reading First of All?)
A paying guest at the Best Western Albion Inn, at 27644 C. Drive North, in Albion, MI (pop. roughly 10,000), allegedly fired a gun into the bed, a window, the walls and the ceiling of his room Sunday morning.
He then surrendered to police, according to a Feb. 28 article in the Jackson Citizen-Patriot, the newspaper of record in Jackson, MI.
There is as yet no indication why the man, who is fifty-three, and whose name authorities declined to release, took such extreme action. It is not impossible that he objected to the decor in his room. An Albion Inn room (not the man's) is shown in this photo. It appears to be decorated with a green patterned carpet, a chair upholstered in colors not suitable for man or beast, and a fake wood night stand.
These sorts of embellishments are de rigueur for this type of lodging. It is a wonder only that more such rooms haven't been used for target practice, especially those featuring paintings of: a.) flying ducks; b.) a windswept sea; c.) "modern art" shapes; or d.) God and his angels.
Speaking of which, the man, who hails from Dearborn Heights, MI, left a note on the ceiling that read, "God delivered me from evil and placed me in Albion, Michigan," which, on the face of it, seems an extremely odd thing for God to do. But then, leaving a note on the ceiling seems an extremely odd thing for a human to do, so perhaps they're even.
The man was taken to the Calhoun County jail and charged with felonious assault, possession of a firearm while committing a felony, destruction of property and reckless discharge of a firearm, according to a Calhoun County Sheriff's Office release quoted in the Citizen-Patriot. In other words, they're throwin' the book at him.
An arraignment and mental evaluation are pending. In addition to firing a pistol willy-nilly about his room, the man also placed an alarm clock in the microwave and turned the oven on.
Whatever the aberrant psychological dimensions of his other acts, this seems perfectly sane and sound. Is there a human being who has awoken to the sleep-shattering sounds of an alarm clock and not wanted to bake the blasted thing in the microwave? It is regrettable only that the man didn't fire his pistol into the clock nine or ten times before incinerating it.
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