Scarface (1932)

The Howard Hawks-directed, Howard Hughes-produced precursor to the '83 Depalma-Stone-Pacino remake about a gangster rising up in the contraband distribution rackets, this time selling Prohibition-era hooch. Allegedly based on Al Capone, whose cut-up face inspired the title, Paul Muni plays Tony Camonte as a crude, morally indifferent, ambitious tough guy whose balls of steel are actually a form of self-destruction; he is less of an inebriated slave to his impulses as Pacino was, and more of a hollow, aimless shell of a man who seeks to prove himself through terror and violence, rather than respect. The incestuous relationship with the sister is here, as well as the attraction to the boss' lady (who, surprisingly, comes off as more appealing and less plain stuffy and hard-to-get as Pfeiffer). Steven Bauer's Manolo is George Raft's Guino, and his, along with Muni, is the strongest performance in the film; constantly flipping his coin and silently backing up Camonte, Guino proves to be more like a real tough-guy, the spitting image of unflappable, unreactionary cool. The pace of the film is where it surprised me the most; about half the running time of its epic remake, this picture is relentless, opening up with Camonte doing his first hit and continuing with almost non-stop, shocking (even for today) violence, punctuated by scenes of Muni's snakey, amoral gangster usurping his superiors. The ending, while a cliche, is a prime example of noir iconography, and is expertly (and in very modern fashion) performed by Muni.

Highly Recommended to fans of noir, '30s gangster pictures, or, of course, Pacino's Scarface. I have not seen any of Hughes' other productions, but of Hawk's work, I have seen Rio Bravo and The Big Sleep, both more popular and heralded films than Scarface, and both more bloated and self-satisfied pictures; the level of slime here along with a general trailblazing violent energy distinguish, and contemporize, this film far more than those more famous works.

Next of Kin (1989)

Okay, forgettable late '80s actioner about 2 hick brothers out to avenge the death of a third in Chicago. The dead brother is played by Bill Paxton, and his brothers are played by Liam Neeson (YEAH!) and Patrick Swayze (...he's dead.) Because this was made 2 years after Dirty Dancing, and not in smarter times, Swayze is the lead, the pacifist brother who wants to take the law and order route until *gasp* they cross the line! The villains are played by Adam Baldwin, Andreas Katsulas (the one-armed man from The Fugitive), and Ben fucking Stiller. The script is crappy and stupid, with the characters all being stereotypes, and boring ones at that, but the film rests on the laurels of the cast for a good amount of the film. Baldwin, Stiller, and especially Neeson, as the fur-trappin, John Deere drivin psycho hick of the two brothers, have charisma coming out of their ass, and make their scenes pulpy and larger than life. But Swayze was no action lead, no matter how hard he wanted to be. Without a role like the Bodhisattva in Point Break, he could not bring anything extra to a role, as can be seen in Red Dawn (which I prefer to this) and Road House (which I don't). And in movie with this many talented actors (Helen Hunt plays his wife as well) he comes across as puny and pathetic; no good when you're standing next to Liam Neeson talkin about raining hell on the bastards that killed his brother.

Slightly Recommended to late '80s B-movie action buffs or diehard Neeson fans curious to see him rock a southern accent. Firefly fans take note: Jayne plays a pretty badass evil henchman in this one, and helps pushes the film across the edge into enjoyable status.

Dead Fish (2008)

Cute, if slightly tepid British crime yarn about a hitman and a young lad in love who accidentally switch phones, and the mayhem that ensues. The plot, a collection of contrivances and goofy, colorful characters, all very reminiscent of Guy Ritchie's crime flicks, is most certainly not an appealing factor here. In fact, the biggest thing the film has going against it is that it feels, more or less, like a bunch of shit happening simultaneously without any real, organic sense of cohesion. What IS actually pretty cool and watchable here are the performances. Gary Oldman plays the hitman with a great, surprisingly coiled attitude that is a refreshing change of pace from his typical loud, explosive villain routine. He actually provides the film with a bit of genuine romantic substance that the writing does not nurture in the slightest. Some bloke named Andrew Lee Potts plays the schmuck that switches phones with Oldman, and unwittingly integrates himself into his life, and he's a solid, likeable lead, but he's completely overshadowed by the original love Guru Jimi Mistry as his stoner buddy Sal. Billy Zane and Karel Roden play bumbling hitmen on the hunt for Potts (remember what I said about Guy Ritchie), but aside from Zane's delightfully stuffy attire and demeanor, their scenes have little to write home about and could have easily been cut from the film. And Robert Carlyle basically combines his performances in Transpotting and Formula 51 for his loan shark character, stealing the film in his few scenes with a never-ending spew of verbal abuse and an overarching sense of pragmatic entrepreneurship. The circus-like procession of interesting characters is fairly fun, but the intensity level is not high enough and the events that transpire never deviate far enough from convention to truly be memorable. That being said, there is an interesting, unconventionally toned-down visual aesthetic to the film, and it gives the film more leverage than I believe the script deserved.

Slightly recommended for fans of British gangster films a la Guy Ritchie or Formula 51 (aka The 51st State). I started this one thinking it seemed to be a lost brother to those films; but a distinct creative lack of ambition keeps this one a lesser relative.

Boiling Point (1990)

Uncharacteristically subpar effort from "Beat" Takeshi Kitano about a young baseball player who gets involved with the yakuza after a minor incident with an obnoxious thug. The baseball element ends up being a burden; there is countless footage of the sport with little rhyme or reason, save for a fetishistic adoration for the game itself. The main plot is pretty threadbare, typical for Kitano. However, the lead character is fairly nondescript and dumb, and some of the key supporting characters are nothing to write home about. The film truly picks up when Kitano himself enters the scene as an off-the-rails, rebellious gangster. One of his early appearances, involving his use of multiple bottles to make a point to an uncooperative hood, is easily the most lively moment up to that point, and kicks off the lengthy chunk of the film that is tolerable merely for Kitano's screen presence and his keen, deadpan handling of his own material. Nonetheless, he is not the central character, and his extreme antics, when not the focus of the story, do not have quite the same effect as his star vehicles. The framing, staging, and production design are all top-notch, but in service of a relatively tepid story that does not hit any emotional notes.

Slightly Recommended for fans of Beat Takeshi and off-kilter yakuza films. As far as Takeshi films go, I'd start with Violent Cop, Fireworks, or Brother first.

Mikey and Nicky (1976)

This mob film from legendary screenwriter Elaine May looks at the friendship of two low-level gangsters on the night one of them has a hit put out of him. John Cassavetes plays Nicky, whose unwarranted theft makes him a hunted man, and Peter Falk is Mikey, his supportive best friend who puts aside Nicky's arrogant bullshit to try and be there for him. Their relationship is at the heart of this thoroughly 70s film, where events seem to only transpire to remind the audience how small the characters actions and predicaments really are. The female touch is really apparent in the way the film handles the duo's relationships with women: these two tough guys define themselves by how they treat the women in their lives. While Mikey constantly calls his wife to update her on his whereabouts and activities, Nicky has a wife and mistress who both see him for the petty scum that he is, even though they cannot escape his wily assurances that they are what he lives for. And they might be; a late-night visit to his mothers grave hints that he feels as inadequate and unsuccessful as he, truly, is, and is constantly trying to make himself seem like someone important, or even worthwhile, to his women.

Cassavetes was a prototypical leading man who was able to become one of the legends of the industry by defying convention and truly digging to the core of human behavior, and here, his talents are on full display. His Mikey is not the cliched huckster friend a la De Niro in Mean Streets; he is appreciative of Nicky's affections, and understands that he is truly his own worst enemy. Peter Falk, as always, is the fucking man, and turns in a deep, layered performance as the more stable of the two. He is conflicted between his loyalties to his friend and his work, but you'd never know it from how sincerely he cares for Mikey, and how far he would go to protect him. The two were known to be close friends and here, in a movie Cassavetes did not write or direct, their chemistry feels completely believable and natural. Ned Beatty runs around the film as the bumbling assassin looking for Mikey; why is it so many of the best films of the 1970's have Ned Beatty in them? Was his agent the only one not faced out on coke? Either way, he's not as indispensable here as in other films (as to say he doesn't get raped over a log), but he's believable and entertaining nonetheless.

Highly Recommended. Plot does not force feed you details, so it takes some focus, but the dialogue and performances keep you hooked. A reminder of how kickass some of the movies that were coming out in the 70's were.