The Reverend Will the Thrill Presents the Film(s) of the Week!

This is a first for me.  Normally, if I feel compelled to highlight two films, I do them separately.  However, this week, since one film is actually based on the other, I thought it might be interesting to try to highlight them together.  Also, if you have issues with this week's selection(s), blame Neve Campbell.  While sitting in a theater last weekend, I saw the trailer for her new film, Scream 7, and I thought to myself, "Y'know, I have a film in which she sings and dances."

Some things don't age well.  No matter how well-intentioned, some things are just bad.  If you've ever had the misfortune of seeing the movie Superman IV: The Quest for Peace (1987), you know what I'm talking about.  The premise was good--the Man of Steel, fully accepts the fact that, even though he is an alien, he now lives on Earth and, therefore, he takes it upon himself to rid the world of nuclear weapons, which he views as a tremendous threat to our existence.  Unfortunately, the film was so poorly made--even with Christopher Reeve as a co-writer--that today it is, rightfully, considered one of the worst films of the 1980s.  I mean, come on--you can even see the special effects during the flying sequences.

This is also the case with the first of this week's films.  Unlike Superman IV, however, the second film I'm highlighting almost--almost--redeems the first one.

The first film, released in 1938 (there is apparently some controversy over this--many sources say 1936), was supposed to be a cautionary tale about the perils of drug abuse.  Originally titled Tell Your Children (and also released in various areas under titles like The Doped Youth and The Burning Question), the film was apparently written and/or financed by a church group--although rumours persisted for decades that the government was behind it--and was supposed to educate the general public about the dangers and consequences of smoking the demon weed known as marijuana.  (GASP!)  It was allegedly inspired by the case of Floridian Victor Licata who, in 1933, killed both of his parents and three siblings with an ax in Tampa.  Believed to be under the influence of marijuana, he was declared unfit to stand trial due to insanity and was diagnosed with schizophrenia with homicidal tendencies.  (Hey... you had me at "Floridian.")  In spite of the schizophrenia diagnosis, the case was cited as a reason to pass the Marijuana Tax Act of 1937, which ultimately outlawed legal sales of pot.

But back to the film...

Sadly, the end product is so bad it's actually comical--something I wish I could say about Superman IV.  The writing and acting in the film are both highly questionable and the claims made in the movie--for instance that marijuana is more addictive than cocaine and heroin--seem absurd by today's standards.  The film eventually found an audience among college students who found it so funny that it became a cult classic, frequently shown in late night "midnight movie" screenings.  In spite of that, I still contend that the movie will essentially steal one hour and six minutes of your life.  (Or yours... or yours... or YOURS!!!!)

The unintentional humour continued to resonate through the generations.  In 1997, writing partners Kevin Murphy and Dan Studney were listening to Frank Zappa's album Joe's Garage--Zappa's idea of a musical--while driving from Oakland to Los Angeles. While picturing this musical in his head, Studney turned to Murphy and proposed the idea of making a musical out of this cult classic propaganda film from the late 1930s.  They wrote the first song by the time they reached L.A.

Their musical debuted in Los Angeles at the Hudson Theater in 1998, eventually playing Off-Broadway in 2001.  It was then filmed as a musical for television and was aired on Showtime in 2005.  The film starred many of the cast members of the original L.A. production.  The film version (and I assume the stage version) actually used dialogue from the original movie--this time intentionally getting laughs.

What still kind of blows my mind about this whole thing is the idea of something unintentionally being made badly versus something being intentionally made badly to the point where it's actually very good.  The original movie is just anti-drug propaganda--kind of corny, not entirely accurate, and impossible to take too seriously, as much as the producers might want you to.  (Apparently, even the actors didn't take it too seriously.)  The musical version is really a satire.  It pokes fun at the original propaganda and laughs at the unrealistic extremes that the establishment might want us to believe.  It also takes some not-so-subtle swipes at the subtle racism that was behind some of the anti-drug laws of the time.  Even though, like its predecessor, it's set in 1936, it feels relevant for its time, especially those first few years after 9/11.  I'll be honest with you, I watched it again recently and it still feels sadly relevant.

(To reiterate the point of how good it is compared to its predecessor, the musical went on to win a Primetime Emmy Award for Murphy and Studney for their song "Mary Jane/Mary Lane."  It was also nominated for Outstanding Choreography and Outstanding Non-prosthetic Makeup for a Mini-series, Movie, or Special.)

The original movie was written by Lawrence Mead, Arthur Hoerl, and Paul Franklin; directed by Louis Gasnier; and stars a cast few remember today including Dorothy Short, Kenneth Craig, Lillian Miles, Dave O'Brien, Thelma White, Carleton Young, Warren McCullom, Pat Royale, and Josef Forte.

The musical version was written by Murphy and Studney, directed by Andy Fickman (who also directed the stage production), and stars a cast of actors still seen today including Kristen Bell, Christian Campbell, Neve Campbell, Alan Cumming, Ana Gasteyer, Steven Weber, John Kassir, Robert Torti, and Amy Spanger.  And, yes, Christian and Neve Campbell are siblings.

This week, please enjoy Reefer Madness AND Reefer Madness: The Movie Musical.  (Consumer hint:  If you can find the DVD of the musical, it does include the original movie as a bonus feature.)

Until next week, stay safe, be good to your neighbours, and please remember that if at first you don't succeed, then skydiving definitely isn't for you.

Yours in peace, love, and rock 'n' roll!

The Reverend Will the Thrill

The Reverend Will the Thrill Presents the Album of the Week!

This week's artist is one that I have a great respect for, but I tend to overlook him in favour of other musicians.  Admittedly, this occurs less and less as time progresses.  Like most children of the '80s, I remember Mark Knopfler first and foremost as the lead singer and guitarist for the British band Dire Straits.  I still contend that "Money For Nothing" from their classic 1985 album Brothers in Arms features one of the greatest guitar riffs--possibly the greatest, certainly among my top three--of the entire decade.

In the four decades since, Knopfler has gone on to release quite a few solo albums, most recently 2024's One Deep River.  Expressing his clearly deep love of American country music, he's also collaborated with country legends Chet Atkins and Emmylou Harris, and even formed an English country group, The Notting Hillbillies.

During that time, he has also scored a number of films, most notably The Princess Bride and Wag the Dog.  His first film score, to the 1983 film Local Hero, was so enchanting that by about my tenth viewing of the movie, I felt compelled to buy the soundtrack.  It's still one of my favourites and I'm actually listening to it as I write this.  (In fact, I did feature it as an early Album of the Week "sermon" in around 2019--when it was exclusively on Facebook.  Perhaps I may have to repost it here as "One From the Vault."  Now that I think about it, I highlighted the film early on when I started writing about those as well...)

"Never seen anyone who can filibuster his way around a G chord more fluently."

--Guitarist Heather Freeling on her admiration for Mark Knopfler

I've often talked about the "transportative" power of music--a term I created to describe the ability of certain pieces of music to transport you to another time and place, even if it's just in your own mind.  When I listen to Knopfler's music, I feel like I'm being transported into the music itself--as if, somehow, I've become part of the song.  Off the top of my head, I can't think of another musician whose work has ever had that effect on me.

On a few occasions, while browsing in record stores, I'll happen to stumble upon one of his albums in the racks.  Invariably, I've felt compelled to buy it even if I've never heard it because I've been enchanted by his music often enough that I know I want to hear more.  This week's album is one of those.  I've often said that the Ignition Music Garage in Goshen, Indiana, is the best record store within a 50-mile radius of me.  Every trip feels like a pilgrimage to a holy site.  One day awhile back, while perusing the CD shelves, I happened to spy this week's album.  I immediately bought it and have frequently found myself revisiting it--twice this past week alone.

This is Dire Straits' third album, released in 1980.  During the recording sessions at New York's famed Power Station, founding member David Knopfler (rhythm guitarist and Mark's younger brother) left the band.  Although his tracks were fairly complete by the time of his departure, Mark re-recorded them.  Knopfler (Mark) recruited Jimmy Iovine to co-produce their upcoming album with him after admiring his work on Patti Smith's recording "Because the Night," a song she had co-written with Bruce Springsteen.  Iovine, having also worked with Springsteen on his albums Born To Run and Darkness on the Edge of Town, brought in E Street Band keyboardist Roy Bittan for the sessions.  This week, please enjoy Making Movies.

Until next week, stay safe, be good to your neighbours, and please remember that if at first you don't succeed, then skydiving definitely isn't for you.

Yours in peace, love, and rock 'n' roll!

The Reverend Will the Thrill

The Reverend Will the Thrill Presents a Bonus Film of the Week! (One From the Vault!)

We not only lost Robert Duvall this past week, but we also lost the great character actor Bud Cort less than a week before.  Perhaps I will get around to binge watching a bunch of Cort's films as well.   I thought this would be an opportune time to re-visit what I wrote about one of my favourite movies that just happens to feature both Duvall and Cort.  It was only my second "Film of the Week" sermon and was originally posted on Facebook on 18 February, 2024.

 

 

This week's film choice is one of my all-time favourites. I first saw it when I was in my early 20s. Originally released in 1970, it was adapted two years later into one of television's most beloved programs.

 

Set during the Korean War (and released at the height of the Vietnam War), it's the story of three Army surgeons on the front lines and how they cope with the horrors of war--usually with an inappropriate sense of humour (my favourite kind).

 

I get the impression that a lot of people--especially my age and younger--don't realize that it was a movie before it was a TV series. Having been raised on the series, I had a hard time picturing anyone but Alan Alda in the lead role of Captain Benjamin Franklin "Hawkeye" Pierce. After seeing the movie, I now have a hard time picturing anyone but Donald Sutherland in that role.

 

Ring Lardner, Jr., was part of the infamous "Hollywood Ten"--a group of screenwriters who were blacklisted for refusing to cooperate with the House Un-American Activities Committee (HUAC) which was investigating alleged Communist activities in Hollywood during the 1950s. With this film, Lardner became the last of the Hollywood Ten to come off the blacklist, winning the film's sole Oscar in the process.

 

Starring a cast of (at the time) virtually unknown actors such as Donald Sutherland, Elliott Gould, Tom Skerritt, Sally Kellerman, Robert Duvall, and Rene Auberjonois. Lardner wrote the screenplay based on the semi-autobiographical novel by Richard Hooker. Produced by Ingo Preminger and directed by Robert Altman, from 1970, I highly recommend M*A*S*H.

As a side note, I'll just add that as someone who myself uses an inappropriate sense of humour as a coping mechanism I found the funniest scene is actually only in the book. ("Goddamn Army!")

 

Until next week, stay safe, be good to your neighbours, and please remember that if at first you don't succeed, then skydiving definitely isn't for you.

 

Yours in peace, love, and rock and roll!

The Reverend Will the Thrill

 

 

The Reverend Will the Thrill Presents the Film of the Week!

We learned this week of the death of Robert Duvall at the age of 95.  When an actor I admire dies, I tend to find myself going through my collection and binge watching their movies.  And Duvall was in some of the most celebrated films of the last 60+ years including many of my favourites, beginning in 1962 with his almost heartbreaking performance as Boo Radley in To Kill a Mockingbird.  This week alone, I've watched M*A*S*H, The Godfather, and Apocalypse Now.  I expect I'll probably watch others over the next few days.

Duvall was one of those actors who appeared in so many films, it's easy to forget he was in some of them.  Going through his IMDb page, I was surprised at how many of his films I actually own.  I had forgotten completely that he was in Crazy Heart with Jeff Bridges and True Grit with John Wayne (not to be confused with the version with Jeff Bridges).  And I don't even remember him in The Natural or Falling Down.  But that's okay because I'm pretty sure no one but me remembered that he was in Bullitt with Steve McQueen.

When I started this little Robert Duvall film festival that I'm still enjoying, I knew right away that there was one movie I wanted to include.  Knowing that Apocalypse Now is incredibly dark (it is, after all, based on Joseph Conrad's book Heart of Darkness), I thought I might want to follow it up with something a little lighter... but not too light.

This week's film is a darkly comic satire--not something that sits well with many audiences because the humour can be interpreted as inappropriate.  Frankly, I'm drawn to inappropriate humour.  I find so many things in life--especially these days--completely inappropriate.  Therefore, if I can find a way to laugh at it, those inappropriate things in life are at least a little bit bearable.

Nick Naylor (played by Aaron Eckhart) is a lobbyist for the tobacco industry who works for the Academy of Tobacco Studies.  His job is to essentially downplay the health risks posed by smoking and get more people to light up.  He's smart, he's savvy, and he can spin anything to make it appealing.  Needless to say, the general public reviles him.  He even admits that his only real friends are two other lobbyists--Polly Bailey (Maria Bello) for the alcohol industry and Bobby Jay Bliss (David Koechner) for firearms.  Together, they refer to themselves the Merchants of Death or MOD Squad.  While shilling legal, addictive carcinogens, Nick is also trying to be a solid role model to his son Joey (Cameron Bright).

Jason Reitman not only wrote the screenplay (based on the novel by Christopher Buckley, who also has a cameo in the film), he also directed this as his first theatrical feature.  The film sports an impressive cast including Reitman mainstay J.K. Simmons as Nick's boss, Katie Holmes as an intrepid journalist, Rob Lowe as a film mogul trying to make smoking in the movies sexy again, Sam Elliott as the former Marlboro Man, William H. Macy as a Vermont Senator intent on bringing down the tobacco industry, and, of course, Robert Duvall as a tobacco titan known only as The Captain.  Debuting at the Toronto International Film Festival in September of 2005, the film was released theatrically in the spring of 2006.  Please enjoy Thank You For Smoking.

Until next week, stay safe, be good to your neighbours, and please remember that if at first you don't succeed, then skydiving definitely isn't for you.

Yours in peace, love, and rock 'n' roll!

The Reverend Will the Thrill

The Reverend Will the Thrill Presents the Album of the Week!

"I'm sick to death of people saying we've made eleven albums that sound exactly the same.  In fact, we've made twelve albums that sound exactly the same!"

--Angus Young, guitarist and founding member of AC/DC

My cousin David recently said to me, "There should be a word for bands where their songs mostly sound the same."  Recalling the above quote, I replied, "There is--AC/DC."

After some careful etymological consideration, David came up with two new words--"genrecrement" (as in, "AC/DC poured genrecrement and never looked back.") and "monogroove" ("With Nickelback, every track is a monogroove with different lyrics.").  While he was also amused by Mr. Young's assessment of his own musical career, he theorized that Young probably has a word for people who complain about all his music sounding the same but still sing along because they know all the words.  At the time, David had the misfortune of being ferried through the air in a cramped metal tube.  The equally unfortunate passenger next to him--whose name I did not get--apparently got involved and came up with the word for such a person, now unofficially known as a "lyricheckler."

But here's the dirty little secret that I've never admitted to David (until now):  I'm actually a fan of AC/DC.  In fact, I just bought one of their albums a few weeks ago.  As one of my favourite internet memes once stated, I don't always listen to AC/DC, but when I do... so do the neighbours.

Like most people, I usually find a monogroove quality--and let's be honest, "monogroove" is considerably easier to say than "genrecrement"--in an artist kind of annoying.  On a good day it makes me indifferent toward their music, on a bad day, it makes me detest it.  But with AC/DC, I find it kind of charming.  In any other artist, I would consider it a sign of laziness when it comes to songwriting.  With AC/DC, it's a strength.  They know who they are, they know what their fans want, they know what works, why fix what isn't broken?

While I've enjoyed every AC/DC album I've ever heard (and I do admit that I haven't heard them all), I do have a particular fondness for their works featuring original lead vocalist Bon Scott.  He tended to exude a certain gleeful sleaziness on those records that, when I'm in the right mood, is frankly delightful.  His mastery of the single entendre remains unparallelled.

This week's album is celebrating its 50th anniversary this year and may be my favourite.  It was originally released only in Australia, New Zealand, and Europe in 1976.  It was finally released in America in 1981--more than a year after Scott's death.  Please enjoy Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap.

Until next week, stay safe, be good to your neighbours, and please remember that if at first you don't succeed, then skydiving definitely isn't for you.

Yours in peace, love, and rock 'n' roll!

The Reverend Will the Thrill

The Reverend Will the Thrill Presents the Film of the Week!

I was a child of the 1980s.  But I was a weird child of the 1980s (go fig).  I didn't like a lot of the music that was popular at the time.  I preferred the music of my parents'--and even my grandparents'--generation.  Today, I love a lot of '80s music, but I only got into it through nostalgia--particularly soundtracks to movies that either used a lot of '80s songs like Romy and Michele's High School Reunion and Grosse Pointe Blank or were period pieces like The Wedding Singer.  I would hear those songs and remember where I was when I first heard them and think, "Y'know, that's not as bad as I remember it."

Because I grew up in the middle of nowhere, if I went to a movie, it had to be a movie that my parents (particularly Dad) wanted to see.  I did see such classics as Star Wars, Ghostbusters, Back to the Future, the Indiana Jones films, and Batman in theaters--and sometimes drive-ins--when they were originally released, but a lot of films that were specifically aimed at my demographic I didn't get to see until much later because my folks had no interest in seeing a comedic drama about high school life.  I never saw Top Gun or Dirty Dancing until I was an adult.  And with the exception of Planes, Trains and Automobiles, which Dad rented once (we always liked Steve Martin in my family) and Ferris Bueller's Day Off, which I saw at Jake Tincher's thirteenth birthday party after it had been released on videocassette, I missed the entire oeuvre of John Hughes movies.

At some point in my mid-30s, after his untimely passing, I bought a box set of Hughes films.  I had seen and even enjoyed The Breakfast Club in college, and even though I had never seen Sixteen Candles or Weird Science, I took a chance on the set anyway.  I found I really liked them.  They were funny but at the same time touching and poignant.  I don't know how I had never seen these movies before.  They were well-written with great dialogue and wonderful soundtracks.  I immediately made a point of getting Ferris Bueller, which I think carries a message that is as important today as it was 40 years ago.

Even though I'd never seen it, I also picked up Pretty in Pink.  (I miss the days when Best Buy sold movies and music!)  Somehow, I fell in love with this film and began watching it repeatedly.  Like most film addictions, I can only guess as to why I was drawn to it over and over again.  Perhaps I realized that I would have totally had a crush on Molly Ringwald in high school (I've always been a sucker for redheads--I swear to God they will be the death of me!).  As a bit of an eccentric, perhaps I identified a little too hard with the character of Duckie who loved the music of Otis Redding and was in love with a redhead who only looked at him as a best friend.  I was even drawn to Iona who managed a record store and had a smartass attitude that I try to emulate as much as possible.

Over the last ten years, the film was re-released in theaters to mark its 30th and 35th anniversaries.  Unfortunately, I missed it both times.  Tomorrow, I'm excited to say, I finally get to see one of my favourite "Saturday" movies on the big screen to commemorate its 40th anniversary.  In fact, I've intentionally not watched it in a couple of months in anticipation of it.  I'm hoping that like It's a Wonderful Life and Back to the Future, I'll notice some little detail that I never noticed before on my TV screen.

Originally released in 1986, the film stars Molly Ringwald as Andie, a high school senior from the poor side of town, in love with a rich kid Blaine (Andrew McCarthy), whose friends don't approve of him dating someone that they deem to be trash.  The movie co-stars Jon Cryer as Andie's friend Duckie, Annie Potts as her record store boss and confidante Iona, Harry Dean Stanton as her father Jack, and James Spader as Blaine's friend Steph, arguably one of the greatest assholes of 1980s cinema.  Written by Hughes and directed by Howard Deutch, please enjoy Pretty in Pink.

Until next week, stay safe, be good to your neighbours, and please remember that if at first you don't succeed, then skydiving definitely isn't for you.

Yours in peace, love, and rock 'n' roll!

The Reverend Will the Thrill

The Reverend Will the Thrill Presents a Bonus Album of the Week! (One From the Vault!)

I wrote the following and originally posted it to Facebook on 12 February, 2022.  Since it's Valentine's Day, I felt compelled to revisit it.  NOTE:  This flashback contains another flashback.  Hope you can keep up--I've tried to space them apart accordingly...

 

As many of you will probably remember, there was a predecessor to these weekly rants. It wasn't as public, but I would email a song a week to family and friends. In February of 2008, in the very second installment of those weekly rants, I wrote the following:

 

 

"What came first—the music or the misery? Did I listen to music because I was miserable? Or was I miserable because I listened to music? Do all those records turn you into a melancholy person?

"People worry about kids playing with guns, and teenagers watching violent videos; we are scared that some sort of culture of violence will take them over. Nobody worries about kids listening to thousands—literally thousands—of songs about broken hearts and rejection and pain and misery and loss. The unhappiest people I know, romantically speaking, are the ones who like pop music the most; and I don't know whether pop music has caused this unhappiness, but I do know that they've been listening to the sad songs longer than they've been living the unhappy lives."

—Rob Fleming in the novel "High Fidelity" by Nick Hornby

 

So a couple years ago I was thumbing through the Encyclopædia Britannica because I wanted to know the origins of this Cupid chap who is supposed to be flying around this week. He's Roman, in case you didn't know (I didn't at the time, which is why I was looking him up in the first place). He apparently enjoys archery and he's a menace to our society. Britannica says that his "wounds inspired love or passion in his every victim." "WOUNDS???" "VICTIM???" He's hunting human prey, for crying out loud! Clearly this guy is a terrorist and needs to be stopped at all costs! We need to ship his wing-ed little ass off to Guantánamo and find out what his real agenda is!

 

As you may have guessed (if you didn't already know), I find Valentine's Day a disgusting and crass holiday. Even in the days when I had a girlfriend, I still wasn't that fond of it (although I will admit that it was a lot more fun). I don't understand the concept of it, personally. Some poor schlub gets his head lobbed off and I'm supposed to be romantic about it? "Y'know, honey, we can go out to dinner and a movie anytime. Tonight, why don't we watch someone get martyred?" I don't know about the rest of you, but I certainly get hot just thinking about someone's decapitation. Valentine's Day—Bah! Humbug!

 

Which brings me to love itself. Can there be anything as screwed up as this emotion? I find it thoroughly fascinating that while love is the antithesis of hate, it can be just as destructive—just ask Helen of Troy. Or Shakespeare. Or Leonard Cohen... The only good thing to come out of it (aside from the continuation of the species, I suppose—which is a diatribe for another time) is what it does to us creatively. Just ask Shakespeare. Or Leonard Cohen...

 

Our species has created plays, paintings, movies, stories, and, yes, literally thousands of songs according to Rob Fleming (or Rob Gordon if you're a fan of the movie), devoted to love. One could make the argument that the entire entertainment industry was built upon the ideas of love and romance. Hugh Grant alone owes his entire career to it!

 

 

 

So here I am/we are—fourteen years later—and my opinion hasn't changed all that much on these matters. I still have difficulty uttering the phrase "Valentine's Day" without a hint of derision in my voice, sometimes with an obscene hand gesture. Having recently described myself on a friend's Facebook post as "perpetually single," I feel entitled to piss on everyone's romantic parade every February 14. I figure I atone for it by being a hopeless romantic the rest of the year... or maybe I'm just hopeless, the jury's still out on that one. Every Valentine's Day, I still feel compelled to dress as though I were going to Johnny Cash's funeral and referring to myself as "The Anti-Cupid," commanding people to kneel before me and sing Roy Orbison songs (although I was once described as "hot" in that suit, which led me to wear it to an erotic masquerade ball in 2004... but that's a very long story). And to top it all off, my taste in music has had the audacity to broaden itself in the intervening years, making my familiarity with depressing songs even... well, broader.

 

Picking a whole album for this week wasn't terribly tricky. Between the aforementioned Leonard Cohen and Roy Orbison, there's a lot to choose from. But in the end, there was really only one choice. As Bruno Kirby said in the movie This Is Spinal Tap, "When you've loved and lost the way Frank has, then you, uh... you know what life's about."

 

So this week, if you're as bitter about institutionalized romance as I am—or even if you're not, I present to you the Chairman of the Ol' Blue Eyes himself, Francis Albert Sinatra with his 1959 album (probably not a special Valentine's Day release, but you never know...), No One Cares.

 

Until next week, stay safe, be good to your neighbours, and please remember that if at first you don't succeed, then skydiving definitely isn't for you.

 

Yours in peace, love, and rock and roll!

The Reverend Will the Thrill