Only now does it occur to me... EARTH GIRLS ARE EASY (1988)

Only now does it occur to me...  okay, bear with me here. As you may know, I derive great joy from analyzing/grasping at harebrained pop cultural narratives, rivalries, curiosities, and other ephemera. Today we'll be looking at "The Ground You Walk On" sequence from the classic 80's Sci-Fi/Comedy/Musical, EARTH GIRLS ARE EASY.

This song is of the classic "scorned lover" variety, as Geena Davis realizes that her doctor fiancé (Charles Rocket) has been cheating on her and proceeds to sing about it while she cartoonishly destroys his stuff. There's a lot of archetypal 1980s tasting notes here on display, from the "80s rule of pools" (if there is a pool present, a character will be pushed into it, flailing, in a zany comic moment)

 to a Pin Art executive toy being used to reenact "The Scream"

to the yuppie tableaux of using a golf club to smash a cologne shelf 

 

 and using a bowling ball (and a ramp made of skis––not a ski ramp!) to destroy a vintage PC.

But I'm digressing. None of this is why we are here. We're here for... Madonna.

First, I must note that EARTH GIRLS ARE EASY is co-written and co-starring "West Coast" Julie Brown, comedian, actress, and MTV personality. Madonna has always been one of Brown's favorite targets, culminating finally in the hour-long MEDUSA: DARE TO BE TRUTHFUL (1991), a vicious send-up of MADONNA: TRUTH OR DARE (1991). This prompted a bitter Madonna to send Ms. Brown the vaguely head-scratching Spite Gift of a half-drunk bottle of champagne (sensationally characterized by some as Madonna "sending her own spit in a champagne bottle"). This, however, being 1988, predates that bitter little tête-à-tête. 

Anyway, in the aforementioned Geena Davis "scorned lover" song, Geena also destroys the record collection of her betrothed. This happens to include the soundtrack album to WHO'S THAT GIRL––the weird, 1987 screwball Madonna flop––the cover of which is emblazoned with Madonna's image. 

The film then takes a moment––a real, lived-in moment––to allow Geena Davis to luxuriate on a couch and hurl Madonna into a fire.

I'm no stranger to some gentle Madonna Mockery (see also: my reviews of BODY OF EVIDENCE and WHO'S THAT GIRL), and I think Geena flinging this particular record into the flames is pretty objectively magnificent. But was there any fallout from this incident? Would it still be on Madonna's mind four years later when she co-starred with Geena Davis in A LEAGUE OF THEIR OWN?

It would be difficult to know the answer to that question unless we had a window of insight into Madonna's mind, which would be fairly difficult to gauge, considering her levels of image control––but then... there's this, a letter from Madonna to the fashion photographer Steven Meisel, written during principal photography for A LEAGUE OF THEIR OWN. In short, she says:

"I cannot suffer any more than I have in the past month learning how to play baseball with a bunch of girls (yuk) in Chicago (double yuk) I have a tan, I am dirty all day and I hardly ever wear make-up. Penny Marshall is Lavern — Geena Davis is a Barbie doll and when God decided where the beautiful men were going to live in the world, he did not choose Chicago. I have made a few friends but they are athletes, not actresses. I hate actresses."

Now, did Madonna choose to insult Geena Davis in this generally off-target way (apparently we all missed out on 'BEETLEJUICE' Barbie) because she was still sore about Geena flinging the WHO'S THAT GIRL soundtrack into a fiery hearth, even though said flinging was, I would wager, explicity written into Julie Brown's script? Ah, who can say. For her part, Geena seems to harbor no ill feelings in interviews, referring to Madonna as a "trouper." 

Perhaps a fitting benediction to all of this nonsense would be my favorite quote from a zebra-printed teenage tailgater in HEAVY METAL PARKING LOT: "Heavy metal rules, man!... Madonna can go to hell as far as I'm concerned. She's a dick!"

Only now does it occur to me... WHO'S THAT GIRL

Only now does it occur to me...  Who is that girl?  Who is she really?

Whew.  Okay.  A couple of things.

I hope you like unmitigated Madonna-prancing!

First off, this is an 80s screwball comedy presumably greenlit because of the success of DESPERATELY SEEKING SUSAN, and yet whoever was doing the greenlighting neglected to realize that Madonna was nearly mute and not actually the star of that film, which is regrettably not the case in WHO'S THAT GIRL.  

But this movie isn't all that Bad with a capital-B; it suffers mostly from a failure in tone– it's basically the fusion of SOMETHING WILD and BRINGING UP BABY (yes, there are jungle cats) with Madonna taking on the Katherine Hepburn/Melanie Griffith roles and Griffin Dunne taking on the Cary Grant/Jeff Daniels bits.  Madonna's character is pure id, manic-pixie-dream-Ciccone, and the major gag I guess is that she's a bad driver (!?).  Though I do appreciate the Material Girl living up to her name by patronizing McDonald's, wolfing down half of her Chicken McNuggets, and feeding the rest to an endangered species.

And did I mention that this is directed by James Foley, who did the GLENGARRY GLEN ROSS movie?

Anyway, there were a few brief things of note:

#1.  NYC in 1987.

I always appreciate these authentically sleazy street scenes; so ubiquitous in the 80s, and so rare today.  Thanks, Giuliani!

#2.  Obligatory gun salesman scene.

It seemed like for a while in the 70s and 80s, there was a scene in almost every film– comedy, action, drama, suspense, thriller, you name it– that took place in a seedy motel where a shady dude was selling weaponry.  Here, it's Sean Sullivan (CLASS OF 1999, WAYNE'S WORLD), who's a quite passable as a poor man's Brad Dourif.  Bravo.

#3.  REDRUM

While driving through the aforementioned unsavory neighborhood, Griffin Dunne's luxury car is graffitied over by the locals.  Particularly of note is "REDRUM" in pink and silver on the rear quarter panel, in a direct and head-scratching reference to THE SHINING.  My best guess is that it was the work of a bored production assistant.

#4.  Candles and champagne.

Candles and champagne?  Hmm.  What is it about Madonna and candles and champagne?  This is triggering something... it's triggering something traumatic and long-buried...  I'm getting flashes...images...words.  "Body."  "Evidence." I'm seeing Willem Dafoe's nipples covered in champagne and candle wax and sweet God no, NOOOO–

Stop, Madonna, no more, NO MORE!  AIEEEEEE!

–and then suddenly, we're back to reality, I'm no longer having a BODY OF EVIDENCE acid flashback, I'm just watching Madonna in a PG-rated screwball comedy, and it's just a couple of good folks enjoying some nice champagne with some lovely candles in the background, and I'm having a pleasant time, it's quite delightful in fact, and just a pleasant and delightful time, don't you think?

The final verdict:  better than BODY OF EVIDENCE, but not nearly as good as... gee, I don't know...  DISORDERLIES?

Film Review: VISION QUEST (1985, Harold Becker)

Stars: 4 of 5.
Running Time: 105 minutes.
Tag-line: "All he needed was a lucky break. Then one day she moved in."
Notable Cast or Crew: Matthew Modine (FULL METAL JACKET, THE BLACKOUT), Linda Fiorentino (GOTCHA!, AFTER HOURS), Ronny Cox (ROBOCOP, TOTAL RECALL), Charles Hallahan (THE THING, FATAL BEAUTY), MADONNA (BODY OF EVIDENCE, DICK TRACY), Forest Whitaker (BIRD, GHOST DOG), Frank Jasper (FREEWAY MANIAC), J.C. Quinn (THE ABYSS, TURNER & HOOCH). Music (ostensibly) by Tangerine Dream. Screenplay by Darryl Ponicsan (novelist of THE LAST DETAIL and CINDERELLA LIBERTY).
Best one-liner: "SHUTE? Shute's a monster! A genuine geratoid! His own father has to use a livewire to keep him from fuckin' the fireplace!"

VISION QUEST is one of those unsung 80's workhorses- it's not flashy, it's not glitzy, it's not silly. And aside from a brief, refreshingly low-key early appearance by Madonna (her first movie role aside from a student film, A CERTAIN SACRIFICE, which she later tried to have banned), it's not populated with the biggest of stars or the slickest of production values. Shot on location in ramshackle diners, hotel kitchens, and sweaty high school gymnasiums in Spokane, Washington, it has a genuine, blue-collared determination to it. High school is not depicted as some nonstop keg party where the 'rents are on that everlasting "weekend getaway" and every teen has got a bedroom tricked out more elaborately than Pee-Wee's playhouse (a representation which I certainly enjoy in the proper context). Instead, it's filled with true-to-life characters who have to balance extracurriculars with thankless jobs and uncertain futures. On the surface, I suppose you could say that it's about wrestling. Generally, my feeling on sports movies is that if they don't involve soul-crushing performances by Stacy Keach & Susan Tyrrell (FAT CITY), dog skulls (THE BLOOD OF HEROES), pedestrian casualties (DEATH RACE 2000), or Sub-Zeros who become just plain zeros (THE RUNNING MAN), then they're going to be an uphill battle. But this isn't a sports movie. Not exactly. It's about the solitary, spiritual journey that every person must one day embark upon- that critical juncture when you must decide upon the answer to that weighty question- 'How to live?'

Based on Terry Davis' 1979 award-winning Young Adult novel (which was called "the truest novel about growing up since THE CATCHER IN THE RYE" by John Irving) and directed by the generally skillful Harold Becker (CITY HALL, TAPS, SEA OF LOVE...and MALICE), our story revolves around the eighteen year-old Louden Swain (Matthew Modine) and his desire to imbue his life with purpose by dropping twenty-some pounds and challenging Brian Shute, the menacing titan state wrestling champion. Along the way, he develops a sort of relationship with a New Jersey wandering artist (Linda Fiorentino, in her screen debut), who's on her way to San Francisco... and crashing at his house. The plot is deceptively simple, and though it lends itself to some rockin' montage sequences, it's a film very much in the mold of other slice-of-life quotidian storytellers like Vittorio de Sica or Satyajit Ray. And while that claim may seem (and may in fact be) ridiculous, VISION QUEST succeeds in getting you to take it seriously enough that the teased Jersey hair, the silver (astronaut?) track suit,

an odd athletic formation that involves purple jumpsuits & a raging circular movement, and even the presence of Madonna never distract you, never send you on a nostalgia tangent, never extract you from the pure, human drama.

The cast is excellent. Modine is committed, connected, and living the role. Fiorentino is taking that whole 'sexy deadpan' thing that she does and is running with it.

Charles Hallahan is appropriately gruff and appropriately supportive as the Coach, and, as a side note, he worked alongside Madonna twice– with this and BODY OF EVIDENCE. Maybe she was a closet fan of THE THING and pulled a couple of strings? Speaking of Madonna, she shows up merely as a singer on stage at the Big Foot Tavern, singing "Crazy for You" and "The Gambler." Hoping to bank more on Madonna and less on the thoughtful storytelling, the studio marketed the film on more than a few occasions as CRAZY FOR YOU.

Madonna: not the focal point of VISION QUEST.

Annnyway, Ronny Cox, the icy corporate villain of ROBOCOP and TOTAL RECALL, plays against type as Modine's encouraging, working-class pop (!), and it's a joy to watch. J.C. Quinn is tearing it up as a ragged but kindly arm-wrestlin' co-worker of Modine's.

Forest Whitaker has a bit part as a lighthearted fellow wrestler who doesn't quite qualify as comic relief, but he's got a palpable joie de vivre and he'd work again with Modine some years later on Abel Ferrara's MARY.

The soundtrack is solid, though calling it a Tangerine Dream one is extremely misleading. They only show up a little over an hour in to offer some of their patented, tense 'fiercely pulsating montage music.' The rest of the soundtrack belongs to satisfying 80's rockers like Foreigner, Journey, Don Henley, Sammy Hagar, and Red Rider, whose classic rock radio standby "Lunatic Fringe" is used in such a way that it now makes one think of of Modine working out in a gym instead of Holocaust denying.

Along the way, there's nosebleeds, jealousy, road trips, fainting spells, and martial arts tips from a creepy dude in a hotel room. When it all comes down to it, it's the rare sports film where you actually care about who wins. And you care because you really have no idea which way it's going to go.


Hallahan is impressed by Modine's fortitude.

In all, it's a mature, muted look at the formative years. My one complaint is that a near-rape scene is forgiven too easily, but on the whole it deals with sexuality in such a frank, honest way that I have no choice but to admire it. As far as I can tell, it's become a cult hit with the 'high school wrestling' crowd, and that probably has more to do with a loving attention to every grapplin' detail than the rich, character-driven monologues, but I can live with that. Four stars.

-Sean Gill

Film Review: BODY OF EVIDENCE (1993, Uli Edel)

Stars: 2 of 5.
Running Time: 101 minutes.
Notable Cast or Crew: Willem Dafoe, Madonna (DICK TRACY), Joe Mantegna (HOUSE OF GAMES, HOMICIDE), Frank Langella (MASTERS OF THE UNIVERSE, FROST/NIXON), Julianne Moore (SAFE, TALES FROM THE DARKSIDE: THE MOVIE), Anne Archer (FATAL ATTRACTION, SHORT CUTS), Jürgen Prochnow (TWIN PEAKS: FIRE WALK WITH ME, DAS BOOT), Charles Hallahan (THE THING, VISION QUEST). Written by Brad Mirman (HIGHLANDER III, THE GOOD SHEPHERD). Music by Graeme Revell (SIN CITY, CHILD'S PLAY 2).
Tag-line: "An act of love, or an act of murder?"
Best one-liner: "It's not a crime to be a beautiful woman." ALSO: "It's not a crime to be a great lay!"

As promised, BODY OF EVIDENCE is amazingly bad. And it's the sort of bad movie that I don't realllly ever need to see again, not ever. That's not to say that there's no gold here. There is definitely some gold. Joe Mantegna discussing nipple clamps. Frank Langella somberly elucidating how Madonna fingering herself drove him wild.

Langella hangs his head in shame. Mantegna closes his eyes and pretends it's a Mamet picture.

Willem Dafoe declaring the self-evident truth, "It's not a crime to be a great lay." Julianne Moore doing that whole 'anguished wife' routine.

"How did you get those candle wax burns? TELLL ME!!!"

There are a lot of great actors here who were happy to collect a paycheck and then head for the fuckin' hills. Then there's Madonna. Madonna is not a 'great actor.' She's probably at her best in DESPERATELY SEEKING SUSAN, where the role cleverly called for her to only ‘look cool’ and keep the talking to a minimum. Here, she's talking a LOT, and she's trying real hard to be ‘sexy.’


Welcome to Sexytown, U.S.A. Population: Madonna. And why is a heavenly choir playing? Well, in my opinion, that unanswered question finds resolution nearly 20 years later with 'ANTICHRIST.'

And the forced sexiness is utterly macabre. The pacing is EXCRUCIATING. How long can we watch Madonna alternatingly pour hot wax and champagne on Dafoe's nipples as stock, steamy Spanish guitar plays? Well, watch the movie and find out.

WAXXX–

Dafoe is a goddamned trouper.

DAMN this movie is so KINKY and FORBIDDEN. It depicts scenes involving HANDCUFFS, CLOTHES-RIPPING, and other such HANKY-PANKERIES!

Sometimes a mere picture is worth one thousand words.


Madonna cops a feel. Dafoe's look says it all.

Wait one minute! Whose manly hand is whose?


Madonna prepares to smash a light bulb and then have sex on top of it. I think BODY OF EVIDENCE was hoping to instill a Pavlovian reaction within the viewer where broken glass = arousal. If that's the case, you probably shouldn't watch TOTAL RECALL right afterward.

Anyway, I forgot to mention that all of this accompanies a legal thriller. The trial is overseen by an incredibly sassy judge who is always insisting that "I will not allow this trial to become a circus!," but it always does anyway.

"I WILL NOT ALLOW THIS TRIAL TO BECOME A CIRCUS!!!"

The spectators are those same eternally muttering, easily shocked people from every courtroom drama who mumble "Rhubarb, rhubarb, rhubarb" into their cupped hands every few minutes. Whew.

There's an awesome vintage featurette on the DVD which has all manner of trite sound bites like Madonna saying "She's a complicated woman- I can relate to that" and a sold-out Mantegna remarking that "we only have phenomenons like [Madonna] at certain intervals in history." However, Dafoe stands fast when asked about the Material Girl: "She's always investigating, uh, new things." Ha!

Madonna tries new things, the likes of which we haven't seen since at least DICK TRACY.

Two stars.

-Sean Gill

P.S.

Mantegna informs Dafoe of the forthcoming sequel: BODY OF EVIDENCE II: HARDBODIES.


P.P.S. And don't worry, Willem, this sort of thing happens to the best of 'em.