The Writer's Poke

Larry (Steve Martin) comes home one day to find his girlfriend, Danielle (Robyn Douglass) in bed with Raul (Richard Delmonte). She tells him to leave, and he does, taking out the trash on his way out, as she instructed him to do. Fifteen minutes after being dumped, he runs into Jack (Steve Lawrence), who's out on a stroll with his wife and his girlfriend. He tells Larry that he's heard about Larry's break-up (the one that happened just 15 minutes ago), but not to worry. Danielle has already broken up with Raul. Now she's dating a rock band. It's that kind of movie. Anyway, Larry ends up in the park. He's taking up the right side of a park bench, and here comes Warren (Charles Grodin). He's in the same position as Larry, but he seems a little wiser to what happens next. Warren takes up the left side of the park bench, and the two become fast friends. I love Charles Grodin. Mainly, I remember him for the intentionally awkward segments he would do with Letterma...

It was Marlow (Humphrey Bogart) who tells Rigby (Steve Martin) that dead men don't wear plaid. "What does it mean," asks Rigby rhetorically, "I'm still not sure," he admits. But who wears plaid in film noir, period? No one. Maybe it would ruin the feng shui. So the "gimmick" of this movie -- the "seamless" blending of archival footage from classic films -- is actually pretty cool, and if it's been done before or since, I'm not aware. The closest thing to it I can think of is how Forest Gump is integrated into historical events... but Dead Men Don't Wear Plaid is a groundbreaking film with the technique being utilized, and I don't think it's ever been attempted again. In Dead Men Don't Wear Plaid, Martin gets to "interact" with maybe 15 or 20 classic actors -- from Bogart and Cary Grant and James Cagney to Barbara Stanwyck and Veronica Lake and Ingrid Bergman. It's a real sight to see, and I can imagin...

After watching Sgt. Bilko and hearing what my friends had to say about The Jerk (1979), I realized that I was too harsh in my assessment of The Jerk. It had a lot of funny bits, and yes, it might even be a homage to Citizen Kane, for Pete's sake. Sgt. Bilko might have its defenders too, but for now, I'm not going to be one of them. The movie is based on the 1950s TV series, and I can imagine a Steve Martin as a young boy watching that show, much like I would have been watching Gomer Pyle, USMC, at the same age. But somehow, I never got into the characters or the story. I'm a big fan not only of Martin, but also his costars in this one, Phil Hartman and Dan Akroyd. Nothing about their characters intrigues me, however, and this is also one of the rare films that even Martin admits that maybe the concept just didn't work. What was it about the 1990s? Did any of us make it through that decade unscathed? Thanks, Nirvana.

I felt like I missed something with this one. In Roger Ebert's review of The Jerk (1979), he indicated that the audience reaction to comedy is subjective in movies. I thought that was an odd observation, but his observation might have been an apology for him not finding the humor in The Jerk. Then, in his review for Bowfinger, Ebert wrote that the comedy "works on all cylinders." Well, now I'm the one wondering what I missed, because I just didn't find it all that funny. I like the basic premise: Bowfinger (Steve Martin) is a director that's never made a movie. He's got an idea to make a movie with Kit Ramsey (Eddie Murphy), one of the hottest African American actors working in Hollywood, but the catch is, he will make the film without Ramsey ever knowing he's in it, because Ramsey would never make a movie for an unknown director like Bowfinger. The idea is absurd, but it's interesting to see how this film is able to make the concept "work....

Steve Martin's first movie features him as the wild and crazy guy from his comedy show, not Steve Martin the actor. That's my main issue with this one, I think. He screams and yells throughout the movie, and it's just annoying to watch. The persona might work on stage, but it doesn't work on screen. In Roger Ebert's review, he notes that he didn't find this movie to be all that funny, but that it might be a "love it or hate it" type of comedy. If you like Steve Martin's comedy, and I do, I'm sure original audiences were more likely to be a little more forgiving. But in terms of longevity, I just don't think this movie has "it." It opens with a stand-up routine joke -- that he's the son of poor black Mississippi sharecroppers. When he leaves home, they do tell him he's adopted, and that makes him feel better, in a sense, because he never understood why he didn't like the Blues. He like lame white Big Band music, and so ...

Computers are programmed by human beings. As such, the answers they provide are only as good as their programming. In the film, Pavel is a good programmer. As far as we know, the information he puts into the computer program was solid. Pavel's dad not only re-checked the data, but he also went out onto the lake himself to make sure with his own eyes.  In other words, he did his due diligence, and he wasn't blinding accepting that the computer was right or that the lake was safe. And the lake actually was safe, at least the night before the accident.  We never learn why the ice cracks. We know that it should have held 3 times Pavel's weight, but we're not 100% sure how many people were on the lake at the same time the day of the accident, or if Pavel and his dad added the necessary data to take into complete account the fact that the stream entered the lake. Although Pavel's dad warned his son not to get too close to where the stream entered the lake, maybe the ...