Lively, entertaining reviews of, and essays on, old and newer films and everything relating to them, written by professional author William Schoell.
Showing posts with label Deborah Harry. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Deborah Harry. Show all posts

Thursday, January 22, 2015

HAIRSPRAY (1988)

Mother and Daughter: Divine and Ricki Lake
HAIRSPRAY (1988). Writer/director: John Waters.

"She's more beautiful than Elizabeth Taylor!"

In the sixties chubby teen and "hair hopper" Tracy Turnblad (Ricki Lake) wants to go on the Corny Collins (Shawn Thompson) dance show in Baltimore and strut her stuff, and she winds up not only a favorite of the show but a member of the council. Her mother, Edna (Divine), is thrilled for her daughter, but Tracy earns the enmity of former favorite Amber (Colleen Fitzpatrick/Vitamin C) and her mother, Velma (Deborah Harry of Wiseguy). Tracy is appalled at the show's refusal to admit black teens accept on "Negro Day" and fights for integration even as her friend, Penny (Leslie Ann Powers), falls in love with Seaweed (Clayton Prince), a black youth, infuriating her neurotic mother Prudence (Joann Havrilla). Will Tracy and her friends succeed in bringing integration to the Corny Collins Show and will it be Tracy or Amber who will be crowned Miss Auto Show of 1963? I have to say that I think most of the over-rated John Waters' oeuvre is fairly worthless, but Hairspray is the one film of his that I like (and maybe Polyester). Although the comedy is broad, it gets across the message without beating you on the head with it, and there are times when this is very, very funny. Ricki Lake is outstanding and gets fine support from the one-of-a-kind Divine, who also plays (out of drag) the mean, racist station manager, Arvin Hodgepile. Outfitted with a wild hairdo, Harry is also fun as Velma, although poor Sonny Bono is much less effective. Powers is okay as the forever lollipop-sucking Penny, but Havilla overacts terribly as her mother (which is saying a lot in this movie). Ruth Ford as Seaweed's mother [a black activist in a straight blond wig?] and Mink Stole as Corny's assistant similarly do not impress, but there are nice performances from many of the teens, such as Michael St. Gerard, as Tracy's unexpected love interest, and both Thompson and Fitzpatrick are very good. Oddly Jerry Stiller as Tracy's father also makes little impression. Pia Zadora, of all people, is good in a cameo as a drug-using beatnik. There are some wonderful classic tunes on the soundtrack, as well as the nifty new number "Do the Roach!" as well as some excellent dancing that is well-choreographed and well-edited. One could argue that the scene with the black people dancing in a much, much sexier way than the whites borders on stereotyping, but it's effective in its way. The film has many interesting touches, such as when someone sings a song on the show which is taken up by a poor drunk black on the street outside whose voice is just as good but who presumably never got the breaks. One of my favorite moments is when Edna says her daughter is "all ratted up like a teenage Jezebel" but pronounces it jazzabel. This is far superior to the John Travolta remake.

Verdict: Charming, loopy, played and done with just the right touch. ***.

Thursday, December 25, 2014

WISEGUY Dead Dog Records Arc

Tim Curry as the diabolical Winston Newquay
WISEGUY. The "Dead Dog Records" arc. 1989.

Because the cost of acquiring the music rights would have been too prohibitive, the "Dead Dog Records" arc from season two of Wiseguy was not included in the official DVD release, more's the pity. In this story undercover agent Vinnie Terranova (Ken Wahl) is assigned to investigate corruption in the recording industry by using federal money to buy the dying Dead Dog Records, which does not sit well with certain government officials who get no thrill out of being record moguls like Vinnie does. Deborah Harry plays a washed-up singer, Diana, who is working in a cocktail lounge when Vinnie decides to engineer her comeback, but he has to reckon with the schemes of near-psychotic music bigwig Winston Newquay (Tim Curry), the former Sam Fishbine, who is also Diana's former lover, a fact that does not sit well with his wife, Claudia (Deidre Hall). Vinnie gets assistance from the enthusiastic Bobby Travis (Glenn Frey), as well as from husband-and-wife record company owners Amber (Patti D'Arbanville) and Isaac Twine (Paul Winfield). Vinnie's producer is a coke-snorting "genius" named Johnny Medley (Paul McCrane), who is difficult to work with, to say the least, and has a sixteen-year-old wife (Pamela Segall Adlon) who is more mature than he is. [This last business is kind of creepy, frankly, but fits into the weird tone of the episodes.] With more humor and craziness than most episodes of this show, the Dead Dog arc was atypical Wiseguy -- for one thing, Vinnie seems more interested in having a hit record than in putting anyone in jail -- but it is marvelously entertaining, and the scripts by David J. Burke and Stephen Kronish, among others, probably influenced the more outrageous serial dramas of today. Highlights include a dress-tearing catfight at a fancy party, a couple making passionate love who wind up crashing through a skylight, and a certain someone who's pissed off Winston being thrown off a rooftop by thugs. The acting from the entire cast is excellent, with McCrane, Frey and Winfield taking top honors, but even they take a back seat to Tim Curry, who gives an absolutely mesmerizing and ferocious portrayal of the devilish, always sleek and sophisticated, Winston Newquay, a fascinating character -- but not one you'd want to know personally. Jonathan Banks and Jim Byrnes also appear and are as good as ever. The song Harry sings, "Brite Side" was recorded by her, but only in a version that has none of the impact of the original.

Verdict: Deliriously entertaining and sharply acted. ***1/2.