When I was growing up, from the mid-70’s through the early 80’s, my upbringing happened to coincide with one of the most fertile, innovative and groundbreaking periods in American cinema.
You can argue if like that the 30’s or 40’s produced the best films in our country’s history, but you’ll be wasting your time trying to convince me. I grew up with Coppola, Lumet, Foreman, Polanski, Scorsese, Spielberg, Kubrick, Penn and a whole slew of daring, fascinating directors who were testing the limits of the medium and I’ve been a devotee of this period ever since.
Sean Penn (at least that’s who I remember saying it) noted that back in the 1970’s, if you compared the list of the top ten best reviewed movies of each year to the top ten box office champs …the lists would be virtually identical. Sadly, such a thing can certainly not be said today.
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I bring this up because, as a result of my son Milo being cooped up with me in our little pseudo-dorm room here in Northridge, I have been slowly introducing him to the wonders of 1970’s cinema.
Not every night (and certainly not every movie) but as the weeks stretch on here in Los Angeles, I figured it was finally the right time for me to finally expose him to some of the movies that changed my life when I was his age.
Some films from this period- “Jaws,” “The Sting,” “Close Encounters,” “Star Wars,” even “The Godfather”- have been previously screened back in Chicago (and only when he had reached an age where he was deemed mature enough to handle the subject matter).
But now, at sixteen – and about as seasoned and jaded as a post-millenium kid can be – I have deemed him ready to meet some of my old pals- Jake Gittes, Sonny Wortzik, Harold Chasen, Jack Crabb and Benjamin Franklin Pierce.
And so far…”Old Timey Movies with Dad” nights have been a big success.
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So where to start?
Easy: “Dog Day Afternoon.”
This masterpiece from 1975 would have won every conceivable award had it not been for the fact that it was released in the same year as “One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Next” which, deservedly, swept every Oscar right off the table.
Relating the semi-true story of Sonny and Sal, two bank robbers who find themselves caught up in a long, hot, completely unpredictable hostage situation both inside and outside a Brooklyn bank, this movie is an actor’s dream. 
Featuring Al Pacino (Sonny) and John Cazale (Sal) fresh off their performances in “The Godfather, Part II,” the movie is brilliantly directed by Sidney Lumet and sports an amazing ensemble cast with standout performances by Judith Malina, Charles Durning and the amazing Chris Sarandon as Sonny’s wife, Leon.
Pacino is simply eye-popping, wallowing in his Method genius and Cazale- one of my favorite actors of the period- was never better. This movie stands up in every way, even forty years after it was made. If you haven’t seen it, come on over to my place. I’ll give you a smack for your cinematic negligence.
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Next on the hit parade: “M*A*S*H.”
If your memory of “M*A*S*H” is in any way tied up with the iconic 70’s television show, then it’s high time you reintroduced yourself to this flick. The first really huge breakout film for director Robert Altman, M*A*S*H (1970) is a dirty, funny, moving and gritty depiction of life in a mobile surgical hospital during the Korean War and has the kind of ensemble cast you can only wish for: Donald Sutherland, Elliott Gould, Sally Kellerman, Robert Duvall, Gary Berghoff (the only actor to make the jump to the TV show), Fred Williamson, Rene Auberjunois and Tom Skeritt.
Told episodically, it jumps from little plot to little plot, all adding up to a beautiful anti-war film disguised as a comedy, both of which are still incredibly potent.
Plus, the football game remains a hoot.
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“Forget it, Jake. It’s Chinatown.”
When private investigator J.J. “Jake” Gittes is hornswaggled into publicly embarrassing Water Commissioner Hollis Mulwray by a woman pretending to be Mulwray’s wife Evelyn, things go swiftly and decidedly downhill for Jake in 1974’s “Chinatown,” Robert Towne’s brilliant yarn about life, sex and water in the L.A. basin during the late 1930’s.
“I like my nose. I like breathing through it.”
Roman Polanski, widowed when his wife Sharon was murdered by the Manson family five years earlier (and soon to become a fugitive from the law for statutory rape himself), directed and briefly appears in this film- giving Jake some much-needed advice about the dangers of being too nosey- and created one of the most enjoyable, quotable and fascinating movies of the decade.
“Find the girl, Mr. Gittes.”
Jack Nicholson (who starred in easily half of the best films of the 1970’s) is absolutely perfect as Jake and is paired with the lovely Faye Dunaway as Evelyn, who was also smack-dab in the middle of a streak of unforgettable films that began with “Bonnie and Clyde” in ’67 and would be capped by her taking home an Oscar for her work in “Network” in ’76.
They’re joined by John Huston- delivering the creepiest performance of his life- Diane Ladd and Burt Young, but the headline is Nicholson, Dunaway and the crackling screenplay.
Besides, if you’re going to move to L.A., you’ve got to watch “Chinatown.” It’s a history lesson, dammit!
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Flash forward to the 80’s. I meant to stay firmly rooted in the 70’s, but I couldn’t resist showing Milo one of my favorite movies of all time, the network news satire “Broadcast News.”
God, what a fantastic movie this is. Everything about it, from James L. Brooks’ phenomenal writing and direction to the incredible performances by the trio of lead actors: William Hurt, Albert Brooks and the red-hot Holly Hunter (playing my favorite role of her career..and that’s saying something). 
See this movie for any of a dozen reasons, but specifically watch it for the scene where Brooks confronts Hunter about the danger of her life choices (“How do you like that? I buried the lead.”) and the fall-out-of-your-chair hilarity of watching Brooks when he finally gets a chance to 
anchor the news (“Nixon didn’t sweat this much.”)
Funnier now than when I first saw it and I howled when I first saw it.
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Okay, jumping back into the 70’s and one of my favorites of all time: “Harold and Maude.”
This is an easy movie to pigeonhole and forget about. “Anti-establishment, anti-war, pro-life, light comedy, blah blah blah. Cute, sure. But not really an important movie.”
Don’t be fooled. This movie is just amazing. More timely than ever and, if you’re even the slightest bit depressed, the cure for whatever funk ails you.
Relating the story of morbid, semi-suicidal, post-graduate Harold, a young man with no direction and no joy in life who stumbles upon soon-to-be octogenarian Maude who, in the space of a week, turns his life completely upside down, “Harold and Maude” is one of those magical movies that was written at exactly the right time was directed by exactly the right person (Hal Ashby) and sports a perfectly-cast ensemble that never hits a false note throughout the course of the film.
Bud Cort is Harold, his moon face and saucer eyes gaping in wonder at the transcendent Ruth Gordon as Maude. Gordon is absolutely superb, managing to deliver Maude’s life-is-worth-living-to-the-fullest messages without the slightest hint of treacle.
Cannot recommend revisiting this one enough.
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And now for something completely different.
Milo is a big fan of horror movies, so we went ahead and dialed up 1978’s remake of the classic “Invasion of the Body Snatchers.”
An early effort by director Philip Kaufman (who would go on to direct one of my top ten 80’s movies, “The Right Stuff”), “Body Snatchers” is fun but ultimately not a truly successful thriller.
The ensemble is a wacky mix: Donald Sutherland, Brooke Adams, Jeff Goldblum, Veronica Cartwright and…hello!…Leonard Nimoy. They’re all just fine, but the movie itself doesn’t measure up to the first film (though it does feature a great cameo by the star of the original, Kevin McCarthy).
“My movie was better!”
Happy we got to see it (and to check a classic horror flick off of Milo’s list) but…nothing compared to the other movies this month.
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Another quick jump to the eighties for a viewing of “The Witches of Eastwick.”
Man, this movie is just as fun as I remember it, with the trio of vixens (Cher, Susan Sarandon and Michelle Pfeiffer) summoning the Devil Himself- portrayed by (who else?) Jack Nicholson – to their little New England town, much to the dismay of society maven and local scold Veronica Cartwright.
Directed by “Mad Max”‘s George Miller (forgot that, didn’t you?) 
this movie is a riot, with Nicholson and the rest of the gang fairly chewing up the scenery. Jack’s final monologue in the church (“So whaddya think? Women… a mistake? Or did He do it to us on PURPOSE?”) is a reminder, in case you needed one, of why he remains one of the country’s most revered performers.
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Then, this past weekend, we finally did something I’ve always wanted to do in L.A. but missed out on the last time I was here:
We went to see a film at the Hollywood Forever Cemetery.
Yeah, that’s right. Movies. In the cemetery.
Now celebrating its fifteenth year, the Cinespia organization has been offering outdoor showings of movies in the Hollywood Forever Cemetery since 2002. If you’re thinking (as I did at first) that you’d actually be sitting among the graves while you watch the film, you would be either happily or sadly mistaken, depending on your opinion of picnicking over a burial plot. The experience is not nearly as morbid and creepy as that (though it’s plenty morbid and creepy).
The movie itself is projected on the outside of the giant mausoleum at the East end of the cemetery and the patrons are asked to confine themselves to the Fairbanks Lawn, which is situated just South of the tombs of Douglas Fairbanks and his son.
So, yeah, just a little creepy.
Milo and I got our tickets early (the movies at Hollywood Forever sell out every week) and showed up in plenty of time to stake out a terrific spot on the lawn up close to the screen. We were joined by my friend Amy Ludwig and fellow ex-Chicagoan Tanya White as well as the charming and talented James Sie (who biked down from his house up the road) and Celine Hoppe, the director of the short film I did back in March.
Tonight’s showing? Alfred Hitchcock’s “The Birds.”
Appropriately (we thought), Milo and I brought roast chicken for dinner (“Take that, avian species!”) and settled back among the four thousand patrons spread out on the enormous lawn to take in this classic of the horror genre.
Well…I don’t know when you last saw “The Birds,” but the plot is absolutely nuts. Tippi Hedren, who is pranked early in the film by the dashing Rod Taylor, pursues Taylor up to his family home in the town of Bodega Bay, California all so that she can sneak into his house and anonymously leave a pair of love birds in the living room for his younger sister Cathy (Veronica Cartwright).
That’s the premise. No kidding.
Soon, almost as an afterthought, the birds of Bodega Bay go absolutely apeshit and start killing people for no discernible reason, other than the fact that the women (Hedren, Suzanne Pleschette and Jessica Tandy) keep glaring at each other so intensely you wonder why Taylor doesn’t just sacrifice himself to the gulls just to escape them.
There are some great set pieces in the movie (the crows in the playground among the most famous), but it’s a totally bizarre movie that sometimes borders (but does not quite creep over into) camp.
Still, it’s a fine flick to watch in a graveyard, sitting amongst those dear to you, sipping your favorite beverage and waving away the clouds of smoke from the very, very 420-friendly crowd.
Just try not to keep in mind that the building they’re projecting the movie onto is the final resting place of Mickey Rooney and Rudolph Valentino.
It might make the night…just a little less enjoyable.
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So…how many of you caught it? The fact that Milo and I essentially embarked on a Veronica Cartwright Film Festival? (“Invasion of the Body Snatchers,” “The Witches of Eastwick” and “The Birds”- one from each decade from the sixties onward.) It wasn’t on 
purpose, but it worked out beautifully. She really is amazing in each flick.
And for those of you who may be wondering what else is on the menu, I’ve got the following movies lined up for the next few weeks: “Little Big Man,” “Heaven Can Wait,” “Cuckoo’s Nest,” “Dr. Strangelove” and….yeah, that’s right…”Being There.”
We’re taking requests, too. Bring ’em on.
Invading Nirvana 