Showing posts with label Peter Hyams. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Peter Hyams. Show all posts

Friday, May 8, 2015

Film Friday: 2010 (1984)

With us touching upon the unique career of Roy Scheider, I thought it was appropriate to finally finish the Peter Hyams sci-fi trilogy: Capricorn One, Outland and now 2010. I view Outland as a masterpiece. Capricorn One is a good but not great and has been unfairly forgotten, especially against today’s dearth of worthwhile films. Then there is 2010. 2010 is simultaneously a strong, entertaining film and a complete and utter disappointment. Let’s discuss.

Plot

Here’s the background: 2010 is the supposed continuation of 2001. After killing his crew, the HAL 9000 brought the Discovery One into orbit around Jupiter. The US is planning to eventually go get it and find out why HAL went rogue.

As the story opens, Dr. Heywood Floyd (Roy Scheider) is approached by a Russian agent. The man advises Floyd that the Discovery’s orbit is decaying faster than expected and that HAL will be destroyed in a crash with Jupiter’s moon Io before the Americans can get there. He also tells Floyd that the Soviets are preparing to launch a flight to get to HAL first. The problem is that the Soviets lack the ability to restart the Discovery and get information out of HAL. That is why the agent has approached Floyd, because the Russians want Floyd to go with them.
Of course the trip almost doesn’t happen because tensions between the Soviets and the Americans are so high that war seems inevitable and no one wants to help the Soviets get to HAL. Ultimately, however, an agreement is reached and Floyd and two other Americans ride along on the Soviet ship, the Leonov.

As they approach Jupiter, Floyd is awoken early by the Russian crew. Telemetry from Jupiter’s moon Europa shows something incredible: the possibility of life. Unfortunately, tensions are running even higher at home and the Russians have been ordered not to cooperate with Floyd. They try to land a probe on Europa, but it gets destroyed.
Soon enough, the Leonov comes to the Discovery. The Americans board the Discovery and restart HAL. At that point, they start getting messages from Dave Bowman, the former pilot of the Discovery who vanished at the end of 2001, that they need to leave the area within a certain number of days. To do this, they will need to sacrifice the Discovery, using it as a booster rocket to get the Leonov into the right position to return to Earth. But can they trust HAL to sacrifice himself?

In the end, they get a message from God basically telling them, “Stay off my lawn.”

Entertaining Movie, but Major Disappointment

As a movie goes, 2010 is quite entertaining. You’ve got a good plotline, with the need to get to the Discovery before its orbit decays. They set up good tension between the two crews and do a good job of overcoming that tension. They add excellent additional tension with the question of whether or not they can trust HAL. The effects are well done and the space scenes are smart and heart stopping. They feel more honest to me than Gravity. The solution to the film is clever and the bit about God at the end makes for a nice ribbon on the film.
I do question why the Russians would agree to this on the terms they do, which let the Americans claim the Discovery and keep the Russians out at their whim, but it doesn’t really detract from the film. All in all, this is a good science fiction adventure and, while it’s certainly not Top 10 material, it is much better than most of what the studios turn out today.

Where the film goes wrong is as a sequel to 2001. It’s interesting. If this hadn’t been a sequel to 2001, I suspect the film would have been ignored. Without the mystery of HAL sitting at the center of this film, it just doesn’t feel like enough to draw people in. Yet, the film craps all over the legacy of 2001.
2001 had a futuristic aesthetic. It took place at a time when humanity seemed more robotic and sterile. Fashions were futuristic. Their technology, while feeling dated to us today, felt futuristic and advanced when the film was made. Their technology was obviously superior to ours. The Earth was different too and there was little sense of dueling superpowers. To the contrary, the film seemed to suggest that humanity had moved beyond our conflicted world today and was ready for the next step in their evolution. 2010 was none of these things. 2010 takes place in a world that is virtually identical to the 1980’s in every way. From a technological, aesthetic and human evolution perspective, 2010 is an entirely different world than 2001, it is a world that feels a hundred years less advanced.

What’s more, the feel of the two movies is entirely different. 2001 was a contemplative, science fiction film that took its time to raise questions about the nature of humanity and where we were going as a species. It also suggested some higher guidance, but stopped well short of declaring a deity. To the contrary, it left you guessing as to who or what the obelisks were and who placed them where they were and what they really meant.

2010 is just a low-key action film. It mentions a couple of philosophical questions, but it never even bothers asking the questions those mentions imply, nor does it spend time developing those issues. It is the difference between being asked to contemplate the nature of silence and being told, “Gee, it’s quiet around here.” At no point does 2010 address human evolution, the nature of life, or really the afterlife. All it does in that regard is have God send a warning through a dead guy and then send a text message to Earth... “Stay off Europa beeeatches.”
To me, this is the real failure. I enjoy 2010 as an action adventure, but I wanted more. Being a sequel to one of the most contemplative films ever, you kind of expected either that the film would provide some answers or would ask a new set of questions. This one doesn’t. And the one answer it does provide, why HAL went all Hannibal Lecter on the crew just isn’t satisfying or even up to the level of what it was implied in 2001.

In 2001, we are given clues to HAL’s behavior, but no real answers. We see that HAL is arrogant, despite seeming emotionless. He notes that he cannot make mistakes... only humans make mistakes. He is cold-blooded and doesn’t think twice about murdering the crew. He doesn’t even give them a chance by killing half of them in their sleep. He seems to be a liar or lacks self-awareness or is perhaps insane at the end when he’s trying to tell Bowman that he’s “all right now.” He seems to cling to life, even though it shouldn’t matter to him one way or the other.
What does this all mean? I think it suggests that HAL has attained a level of sophistication in his programming where he has developed human flaws. Why? Well, that’s the interesting question. That is what 2010 needed to answer. But all 2010 offers by way of explanation is that HAL was given conflicting orders with the suggestion being that evil scientists programmed him to somethingsomething Ronald Reagan is evil mumblemumble somethingsomething. So when his orders to protect the crew and to complete the mission came into conflict, because he saw the crew as standing in the way of that (why he thought this is another key unexplained point), HAL resolved the conflict by murdering the crew. HAL is, in fact, the victim! Root causes root causes!!
Up yours. This is utter crap. First, the two key points to this explanation aren’t even explained. They are just glossed over: the evil military scientists did SOMETHING and HAL freaked because of SOMETHING! Secondly, and even worse, this explanation completely undoes the setup. This explanation turns all of HAL’s surprising and fascinating behavior into “the military programmed him to do that.” There is no longer any question about HAL evolving or what his conduct says about us... he vas just followik orders! That flies in the face of everything about 2001.

This film should have swung for the fences, but it never even thought about trying. That’s the shame here.

Thoughts?
[+] Read More...

Wednesday, May 14, 2014

Guest Review: Narrow Margin (1990)

by ScottDS

Andrew’s reviewed a few of them already so now it’s my turn to review a Peter Hyams movie. 1990’s Narrow Margin is a slightly better-than-average thriller, not really memorable, but quite watchable if it comes on TV. It’s also a little too convenient at times and, thanks to technology, it falls into the “Couldn’t be made today” category.

Carol Hunnicut (Anne Archer) witnesses the murder of Michael Tarlow by crime boss Leo Watts. Apparently, Tarlow spent some of Watts’ money without his permission. Los Angeles district attorney Robert Caulfield (Gene Hackman) is desperate to put Watts behind bars. He travels up to a secluded cabin in Canada where Hunnicut’s been hiding. She refuses to go back to LA but they’re ambushed by Watts’ goons (who seem to pop up everywhere). They drive to a train station and board a passenger train bound for Vancouver. Two of Watts’ men are also on the train but they don’t know what Hunnicut looks like. Caulfield has an encounter with an attractive woman and believes the goons think she’s Hunnicut. He also spots a mysterious man who turns out to be a transit cop... and not long for this world. The climax takes place on top of the train... Caulfield dispatches the goons as well as the attractive woman who it turns out is also a villain. We also find out there’s a traitor in the DA’s office, which explains why the villains always know Caulfield’s plans. Hunnicut testifies against Watts and all is well in the world.

There’s really not much to it. Reportedly, Hyams was looking for an older movie to adapt and stumbled across 1952’s Narrow Margin, starring Charles McGraw and Marie Windsor. I vaguely remember it and honestly, I get it confused with another transit-themed mystery: 1950’s Union Station, starring William Holden. (Now where’s that remake?) As I said above, it’s one of those movies that couldn’t be made today because we all have cell phones. Caulfield has no way of contacting his superiors, the villains disable the train’s communications gear, and the only radio aboard belongs to the aforementioned transit cop who gets killed. So what’s a hero to do?

The acting elevates things somewhat above B-movie level. Gene Hackman is the bespectacled Caulfield and his presence is always appreciated. He’s one of those actors who does well both with quiet moments and action and he makes everything sound believable even when it isn’t. Anne Archer is Hunnicut and I’m pleased to say she takes a role that could’ve been “damsel in distress” or “stuck-up bitch” and makes it work (mostly). The rest of the supporting cast features some familiar character actors. Leo Watts is played by Harris Yulin. He does “menacing” very well. The late, great J.T. Walsh is Tarlow and James B. Sikking is Nelson, the main goon aboard the train. (Sikking also appeared in Hyams’ Outland and The Star Chamber.) Nelson’s associate Wootton is played by Nigel Bennett and Susan Hogan plays Kathryn, the attractive woman whose height quickly becomes a disadvantage while standing on top of the train. J.A. Preston is Hackman’s boss and M. Emmet Walsh shows up (all too briefly) as a detective who travels to Hunnicut’s cabin with Caulfield... and gets killed.
And then there’s Peter Hyams. I watched a recent interview with him and, while I’m usually not very good with this sort of thing, if you read between the lines, you can tell he’s kinda resigned to the fact that he never quite became as big as Spielberg. The man is talented and he had a pretty good run. Capricorn One, Outland, and 2010 I consider the perfect “comfort food sci-fi trilogy” and I mean that as a compliment. Stay Tuned is a childhood favorite. Timecop and Sudden Death are over-the-top cheese. The Star Chamber and The Relic were okay but The Presidio and Running Scared didn’t do it for me, though I know the latter has its fans. I have yet to see his earliest work nor have I seen Hanover Street, End of Days, or his latest: Enemies Closer (available at your local Redbox). He’s only had one major clusterf--k and that was A Sound of Thunder. The short version: it wasn’t his fault! He and James Cameron even collaborated on a killer asteroid script which was never made.

In addition to directing, Hyams wrote the screenplay and served as his own DP. The film exhibits his trademark use of naturalistic lighting. I say “naturalistic” because people say he only uses “natural light.” Hyams scoffs at this: when you’re on a soundstage, there is no natural light! His script features his usual trademarks: the names Caulfield and Tarlow (no Spota this time), referring to the bad guys as “grown-ups,” a reference to Con-Amalgamate, and the characters are so damned... sarcastic! I don’t know if this is just his personality, or his New York upbringing, but in all of the movies Hyams writes, the characters are often wise-asses: the heroes, the villains, everyone. Sometimes it sounds natural while other times it sounds too “writerly.” It works in something like Outland or Sudden Death but 2010 suffers at times from making Scheider and Lithgow too snarky. And aside from Connery’s “Think it over” in Outland, I can’t think of a “classic Hyams line” that anyone would remember. (Again, I have yet to see all of his movies.)
I said above this movie was a little too convenient at times. Hackman and Archer are trying to get a passenger compartment. Archer says she needs to lie down because she’s pregnant and the baby is due in a matter of weeks. One problem: she does NOT look pregnant!!! She puts her hands in her sweater pockets... big deal. Then there’s the transit cop. He’s, uh... he’s fat. He even makes a joke about it. I can’t believe this guy would: a.) be a cop, and b.) work on a train where the corridors are smaller than normal. He even has to back up to let Hackman through... how efficient could this cop be? Hackman reaches Archer’s cabin via helicopter yet they can’t hear the villains’ helicopter until they start shooting. And I’m still not sure how the goons made it to the train station. Sure, they were in a helicopter but did it just land next to the train without being noticed? Hackman also fools the villains with a kid’s water gun but he gives himself away too fast – never tell the villain with the real gun that your gun is fake! [smile]
So that’s Narrow Margin. Not a classic but it’s also the kind of movie that isn’t made today. In case you haven’t noticed, the studios don’t make mid-level movies anymore: everything is either very small or very, very... very big. If this movie were released today, Hunnicut would be a 20-something model, Caulfield would be a young hotshot intern at the DA’s office, there would be some useless plot complication in the third act, and the train would explode in a flurry of CGI. The bad movies of today seem to make the average movies of yesterday appear better than they are. At least, that’s the theory!

“This guy's lying – he’s a train robber!”
“What would I want with a train?”
[+] Read More...

Friday, July 29, 2011

Film Friday: Outland (1981)

Outland is one of my favorite science fiction films. It’s gritty. It’s realistic. It’s got cool characters, memorable dialog, and an as~kicking Sean Connery. What could be better? What’s more, Outland turns a certain commie western on its head.

** spoiler alert**

To satisfy the resource hungry earth, Con-Amalgamate, i.e. “the company,” has set up mines all over the solar system. These mines are like mining towns in the old west, complete with bars, prostitutes, and federal marshals, though it's all contained within a single station. The marshals rotate between stations every year or two and the newest marshal on Io, one of Jupiter’s moons, is Marshal William T. O’Neill (Sean Connery).

It doesn’t take O’Neill long to discover the miners are taking a drug called polydichloric euthymol, which makes you work like a dog and then makes you psychotic. The thing is, O’Neill isn’t the best or the brightest and he has a fairly poor reputation. So everyone assumes he’ll take some money and look the other way. But he doesn’t. And when he doesn’t, the mine’s General Manager Sheppard (Peter Boyle), decides O’Neill must die. Soon, everyone at the mine is waiting for the arrival of the next shuttle. . . which carries two hired killers who are coming for Marshal O’Neill.

If this sounds familiar, it should. Outland is essentially a science fiction remake of High Noon. Though there is a key difference.

High Noon was written by communist sympathizer Carl Foreman. Foreman intentionally wrote the sheriff character (played by Gary Cooper) to be weak and anti-heroic: Cooper was a tough and brave sheriff until he got married to a Quaker who hates all violence, no matter what the reason. This puts Cooper in an awkward position when he learns that some criminals he sent to prison are returning to town to seek revenge. In the past he would have stood against them, but now he’s afraid to because he doesn’t want to risk losing his wife. He tries to unload his duty on the townsfolk, but they are cowardly and hypocritical, and they even angrily blame him for bringing the bad guys upon them. In the end, he has no choice but to fight. And the lesson Foreman hoped to impart from this was there is no place for heroism in Cold-War America.

Outland starts with a similar set up. Connery is neither morally strong nor imbued with a sense of heroism. His wife wants him to quit and go home to Earth; she even leaves with their son to force Connery's hand, leaving Connery a ticket to join them. And all the people he meets are as corrupt, cowardly and hypocritical as the townsfolk in High Noon.

But then something changes. Unlike Cooper, who stands alone, Connery finds an ally and she is one heck of an ally! Frances Sternhagen plays Dr. Lazarus, a cranky, nasty, old company doctor. She doesn’t like Connery. In fact, she likes no one. But after she realizes there’s more to Connery than meets the eye, she decides to help him. Of all the mine employees, she’s the only one who lifts a finger to help Connery and she does it because it’s the right thing to do. And that makes her the exact opposite of the message Foreman was sending in High Noon. Her actions tell us that heroes make a difference and anyone, in any profession, at any stage of their lives can be a hero.

There’s another key difference too. Unlike Cooper, who is afraid and conflicted and only fights because he must (in fact, you get the feeling he’s just too afraid to run away), Connery fights to prove to himself that he’s a better man than he and everyone else thinks. This leads to what I think is one of the finest acting moments in Connery’s career, as he explains:
They sent me here to this pile of shit because they think I belong here. I want to find out if . . . . well if they're right. There's a whole machine that works because everybody does what they are supposed to. And I found out . . . . I was supposed to be something I didn't like. . . . That's what's in the program. That's my rotten little part in the rotten machine. . . . I don't like it, so I'm going to find out if they're right.
Connery needs to prove to himself that he's a decent man. That is a powerful motive. It also makes him the anti-Cooper. Whereas Cooper is the perfect man fallen, Connery is the imperfect man rising. Cooper teaches that it’s pointless to fight evil, Connery teaches that it’s essential to our very beings.

It is through these two changes that Peter Hyams, the writer and director of Outland completely flips the intended meaning of High Noon. And interestingly, as something of a final slap, right after Connery’s motive for staying is revealed, Sternhagen tells Connery, “your wife is one stupid lady.” This is a total repudiation of the wife who wanted him to flee. . . the same wife who stole Gary Cooper’s courage. Was this intentional by Hyams? I can’t say that it was, but it sure sounds like it.

Beyond this, the rest of the film is quite good too. The effects are gritty and seem very real of what mankind’s first true commercial venture into space will probably be like. The treatment of zero gravity and zero atmosphere are accurate and excellent. The mine itself is no-frills and exactly what you would expect. Living quarters, dining quarters and the police station all feel genuine. The characters are likable too. And the dialog is excellent. For one thing, you get the kind of dialog you would expect. The characters all seem competent in their careers and talk shop except when the plot intrudes. Much of the dialog is highly quotable, such as almost anything Sternhagen says (“I’m unpleasant, I’m not stupid”) or some of the policing moments (“They’re still sponging him off the walls” and “you don’t just lose nuclear detonators and then find them”). But my favorite line comes from Connery telling Sternhagen that she needs to provide him with a report:
“I’d like a report of all the incidents in the last six months. I’d like it soon, or I might just kick your nasty ass all over this room. That's a marshal joke.”
That line has come in useful more than once.

[+] Read More...

Friday, July 24, 2009

Film Friday: Capricorn One (1978)

Some movies are cultural markers. They highlight the beginning, or end, of an era. Capricorn One, directed by Peter Hyams (Outland, 2010), is such a movie. Capricorn One marks the moment American culture recognized that average Americans had not only lost their faith in their government, but actively began to believe their government capable of great evil. Capricorn One marks the beginning of the Conspiracy Era.

** spoiler alert **
The Plot
Capricorn One opens as NASA prepares to launch the first manned mission to Mars. Astronauts Charles Brubaker (James Brolin), Peter Willis (Sam Waterston), and John Walker (O.J. Simpson) board the rocket. The Vice President sits in the reviewing stand awaiting the launch. The President did not come because many have begun to question whether the country can afford to continue exploring space in bad economic times. As the countdown slowly winds down, the capsule door suddenly opens. The astronauts are told to leave the capsule and are whisked away to a waiting plane. The rocket takes off without them.

There was a mistake, Dr. Kelloway (the always-fantastic Hal Holbrook) explains to the confused astronauts. A simple mistake. A contractor messed up, and if the astronauts had remained on the rocket, they would be dead by now. Unfortunately, Holbrook continues, the mistake was discovered too late to be corrected in time without scrubbing the mission. Scrubbing the mission would have meant the end of the program. . . and an end to manned exploration in space. So an alternative plan was formed. They would fake the Mars landing on a studio set. And when the rocket returned to Earth, Brubaker, Willis and Walker would be secretly flown to the splash down site, where they would await rescue, before returning home as badly-needed heroes.

Left with no choice, the astronauts reluctantly agree to participate in the deception. But on its return, the capsule loses its heat shield and burns up in the atmosphere. The astronauts are dead. And when Brubaker, Willis and Walker figure out what happened, they realize NASA can’t afford to let them be seen again. The chase is on.
The First Modern Conspiracy Movie
Released a few years after Watergate, Capricorn One marks the moment the American public first began to believe that their own government was capable of great evil. It marks the beginning of the modern conspiracy theory. Prior to Capricorn One, conspiracies were confined to criminal endeavors or foreign agents. Rarely did the government set out to deceive the population. And when it did, as in Close Encounters, it was done by honest government officials who were looking out for the best interests of the public. The idea of manipulating the American public for personal gain or to protect an agency from embarrassment was simply unheard of. . . and the government never killed its own people (except spies).

Compare this to the modern version of conspiracies, as seen in virtually any movie today. Typically, the most important officials in the government have entered into a secret deal to engage in some nefarious activities that will cause significant harm to the American people. Their motives are sinister, and their methods are murderous and sadistic. Modern conspirators waste no time sending out armies of black-clad, cold-blooded killers to eliminate anyone who even tangentially stumbles upon the conspiracy.

Capricorn One is the movie that marked this change in our culture. It is the film that first told us the American government itself could be a sinister, evil force -- not just a single bad actor in the government. And interestingly, intentionally or not, Peter Hyams lets us watch this transition within Holbrook’s character as the movie unfolds.

Indeed, when we first learn of the conspiracy, Holbrook acts like every other “conspirator” you could find in a 1950’s movie. He is the noble civil servant, pressed into a difficult corner, looking to do the right thing for the American people. He believes he is acting for the good of the public. He wants to protect the efforts of the thousands of people who toiled to make this program work and to save science from the budget axe of a short-sighted Congress. He wants to give America back its heroes and he wants to avoid causing another devastating blow to America’s self-confidence -- an issue on many minds during American’s national post-Watergate malaise. As he explains what happened to the astronauts, he is clearly heartsick. There are times you think he may cry, and you share his pain. Equally importantly, he doesn't threaten the astronauts. He reasons with them and pleads for their support. He does not want to hurt anyone.

But then things begin to go wrong. A NASA employee notices the telemetry readings cannot be correct. He brings this to Holbrook’s attention. But unlike modern conspirators, Holbrook doesn't have him killed. He gives the employee a chance. He tells the employee the machine is broken and instructs him to disregard the data. But the employee persists, and soon he attempts to share this information with a reporter friend -- Robert Caulfield (Elliot Gould). It is only then that the employee vanishes and a cover up put into place to hinder Gould’s investigation.

The treatment of Gould too is telling. Had this been a modern conspiracy movie, Holbrook would have ordered Gould eliminated. But that doesn’t happen here -- no black van appears to take Gould away in the night. At first, Gould is merely misled. They try to throw him off the track. But he persists. So they sabotage the brakes on his car. Could this kill him? Yes, but more likely it was only a message, as they easily could have killed him if they wanted to. When he doesn’t get this message, they frame him for drug possession, which gets him fired. With this “threat” neutralized, they ignore him. . . they don’t hunt him down.

But soon a much more modern conspirator emerges in Holbrook. When the capsule burns up on reentry and the astronauts escape the studio facility, Holbrook stops being the innocent conspirator of the 1950s and transitions into a role that would become Hollywood cliché: Holbrook sits behind a desk in a far away office, issuing terse orders over a phone to capture (and possibly kill) the three astronauts. He literally sends black helicopters to hunt them down.

Holbrook has lost his innocence, and so has the culture. Gone is the idea the government can be trusted and will never hurt us. In its place, people now believe in black helicopters and hit squads. And this reflects in the increasingly nasty tone most conspiracy theories have taken in our culture. The government doesn’t just hide the truth about aliens anymore, it blows up buildings to “hide the truth.” It doesn’t just act in our best interests anymore, it now manipulates us so it can carry out its own sinister agenda.

Capricorn One marked the moment this transition began. (Interesting, many credit Capricorn One with popularizing the moon landing conspiracy -- a ridiculous bit of paranoia, bad science and false logic that 6% of Americans, 28% of Russians and 25% of Britons believe.)
Death of Professional Journalism
Capricorn One also marks the dying gasp of old school, professional journalism, an issue highlighted this week by the passing of Walter Cronkite. Indeed, Capricorn One not only shows us what journalism was, it hints at what journalism was about to become.

Consider the character of Robert Caulfield (Elliot Gould). Gould is not a modern attack journalist. Notice, for example, how gently he treats Kay Brubaker (Brenda Vaccaro) when he believes her husband has given her clues about what is going on. He doesn't run over and shove a microphone in her face, he asks for an interview. He is respectful. He even asks for permission to delve into more “personal” questions. And unlike modern reporters who love to hear themselves speak, he listens, he does not talk. Nor does he speculate. Nor is he a tabloid journalist, not by our standards. Gould suspects that something is amiss with the Mars landing because his friend told him about the telemetry and because his friend disappeared. But while this would be more than enough evidence for modern journalists to this story, Gould doesn't write the story because he simply doesn't believe he has enough verifiable facts. Thus, he represents old-school journalism.

Yet, his editor, played by David Doyle (Bosley of Charlie’s Angles), sees him as a tabloid journalist. He repeatedly assaults Gould for proposing wild theories, for failing to gather facts, and for failing to cover “hard news” like train derailments. He laments what Gould means for the future of the profession. And in making these complaints, he foreshadows the exact road journalism would take, and it would do so largely because of the new trade in rumor, paranoia, and conspiracy. Thus, as with the shift in thinking about conspiracy theories, Capricorn One gives us a look at how journalism once was, and shows us where it would head in the Conspiracy Era. And that’s the way it was.

[+] Read More...