M*A*S*H is my all-time favorite sit-com, so I’ve always been
pretty familiar with Alan Alda, but I mostly think of him in association
with television, so it was interesting to see him in the 1990 movie Betsy’s Wedding, which he also wrote and directed.
In this comedy, Alda plays Eddie Hopper, a devoted dad with big dreams.
There’s a Walter Mitty-ish quality about this man who spends so much of
his life in daydreams, but he has achieved some measure of happiness in
the real world as well. He and his wife Lola (Madeline Kahn) love each
other, and they have two grown daughters, one of whom is about to get
married.
Brat Pack staple Molly Ringwald plays Betsy, the
spirited young woman for whom Eddie is determined to throw the perfect
wedding. The problem? Betsy’s future in-laws are equally adamant about
throwing the wedding themselves, and neither wedding fits with the
vision that Betsy has. With so many different people determined to have a
hand in this ceremony and the reception to follow, will the happy
couple get lost in the shuffle?
This is a fun comedy that
shows how crazy a wedding can get when there are two very different but
equally strong-willed sets of parents involved. Groom-to-be Jake (Dylan
Walsh) comes from a very wealthy family, and his parents’ snobbery is
even more aggravating than the appeals from Betsy’s relatives to
incorporate both Catholic and Jewish traditions into what she intends to
be an irreligious wedding.
Less directly involved with Betsy
but very enjoyable are her scuzzy uncle Oscar (Joe Pesci), who rents the
couple a decrepit apartment and makes shady deals with Eddie to finance
the wedding, and young, gentlemanly mobster-in-training Stevie Dee
(Anthony LaPaglia), who undertakes an old-fashioned courtship of Betsy’s
sister Connie (Ally Sheedy), a tough-talking cop.
The film is
fun and zany without being unrealistic, though Eddie’s fantasy
sequences add to the fun of the movie. There’s also a definite warmth to
it, especially from Eddie’s end as he comes to terms with this big
change in his family and in the sweetness of the romance between Stevie
and Connie. Movies revolving around weddings always have plenty of room
for disaster as emotions run high and everyone strives to ensure this
day is absolutely perfect. Betsy’s isn’t, but the chaotic events that
punctuate it only serve to make it more memorable and a truer reflection
of the bride and groom.
Reviews and essays, including all my reviews posted on Epinions from 2000 to 2014.
Showing posts with label Ally Sheedy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Ally Sheedy. Show all posts
Friday, September 21, 2012
Wednesday, November 2, 2011
Matthew Broderick Sets Off a Dangerous Game in WarGames
When my dad, a computer science professor, decided to incorporate
computer-related movies into one of his classes this year, one of the
first films he considered was WarGames, the 1983 drama in which a
pre-Ferris Beuller Matthew Broderick hacks into a government computer
and almost starts World War III. I’d seen it years before, and as I
watched, I found that I remembered most of it. The movie is
simultaneously tense and light-hearted and includes some great dialogue
and terrific chemistry between Broderick and an equally youthful Ally
Sheedy.
Broderick plays David, a smart-alecky teen who mouths off at teachers and doesn’t apply himself to his studies despite being extremely intelligent. In his off time, he plays around with computers, whether that involves racking up the points in the arcade or using the impressive techie setup in his room to tap into programs to which he shouldn’t have access. His classmate Jennifer, played by Sheedy, doesn’t know the first thing about computers, but she’s attracted to David’s quick wit and, once the righteous indignation wears off, touched by his offer to change her failing science grade. Hence, she is with him when he taps into what he thinks is a computer gaming company.
While he thinks he is playing a state-of-the-art video game, he has actually activated WOPR, a secret government computer simulating wars between nations to calculate the repercussions on both sides. As a result, the higher-ups, who are just getting used to this simulator, believe that the United States is under attack. A computer expert explains the situation, and after the evening news reports on the false alarm, David realizes that he is responsible. What’s more, though he tries to shut down the program, the computer insists upon finishing the game, a fact that officials refuse to acknowledge when they bring him in for questioning. It’s up to one clever kid and his plucky sidekick to convince the government not to strike against the Soviet Union. If he doesn’t stop them from taking defensive measures in time, the results will be apocalyptic.
It’s very scary to think that a tech-savvy teenager could bring the world to the brink of accidental nuclear war. The scenario is just shy of realistic, yet it certainly has enough believable elements to make it compelling viewing. Watching this will teach viewers a few important lessons. Never write your password down and tape it next to the computer – especially if you are a high school principal. Never use a single word as entry into your computer – especially if that computer happens to be capable of setting off a major international conflict. And chiefly, never allow a computer such power in the first place. Incidentally, aside from all these fairly obvious lessons, the movie also taught me a nifty way of eating corn on the cob that I had never before encountered. Butter a piece of bread, then wrap the bread around the corn and you’ll have a uniformly buttered cob without a lot of dripping. Of course, you also have a spare piece of bread lying around, but still, I was happy with the results when I tried it.
Because of my dad’s profession, computers have always been a part of my life, even as far back as this movie’s release. In the nearly hour-long making-of documentary, Broderick talks about how this movie exposed many people to the idea of home computers for the first time. I remember the black screen and the command prompts, as well as the kick I got out of having a “conversation” with the computer in which I typed and it talked back. For me, then, seeing the now clunky-looking technology in David’s room was a nice nostalgia blast.
Another thing that the documentary mentions is that originally, screenwriters Lawrence Lasker and Walter Parkes envisioned John Lennon portraying Falken, the reclusive genius who created the WOPR and whose aid David seeks after he breaks out of NORAD, the government facility where WOPR is housed. Instead, John Wood plays Falken, and the creepiest part of the movie occurs when he hollowly tells the teens of the futility of their efforts as a film about the extinction of the dinosaurs plays in the background. Wood’s morose maturity balances out their vibrant urgency; he has the gravitas and expertise to convince the government that David speaks the truth, while it’s up to David and Jennifer to persuade the bereaved programmer that human existence is worth preserving.
While the main plot involves David’s quest, we also periodically check in with NORAD, where the chief characters are Dabney Coleman’s McKittrick, a snappish official who is all for taking missiles out of the hands of the humans and turning over as much responsibility to the computer as possible, and Barry Corbin’s General Beringer, who’s not too keen on WOPR and whose colorful, homespun exclamations add levity to most of the movie’s darkest moments.
Keeping the primary focus on the teenagers helps to lighten the movie’s mood, so while this is a high-concept film with a truly unsettling premise, it’s also fun to watch. As annoying as David can be in the presence of authority figures, he’s mostly the kind of guy you want to root for, and Sheedy, who I mostly know from her wonderful turn as batty animal lover Stephanie in Short Circuit, simply shines alongside Broderick. If you’ve never seen this commentary on the dangers of giving computers too much control, now is a good time to play WarGames.
Broderick plays David, a smart-alecky teen who mouths off at teachers and doesn’t apply himself to his studies despite being extremely intelligent. In his off time, he plays around with computers, whether that involves racking up the points in the arcade or using the impressive techie setup in his room to tap into programs to which he shouldn’t have access. His classmate Jennifer, played by Sheedy, doesn’t know the first thing about computers, but she’s attracted to David’s quick wit and, once the righteous indignation wears off, touched by his offer to change her failing science grade. Hence, she is with him when he taps into what he thinks is a computer gaming company.
While he thinks he is playing a state-of-the-art video game, he has actually activated WOPR, a secret government computer simulating wars between nations to calculate the repercussions on both sides. As a result, the higher-ups, who are just getting used to this simulator, believe that the United States is under attack. A computer expert explains the situation, and after the evening news reports on the false alarm, David realizes that he is responsible. What’s more, though he tries to shut down the program, the computer insists upon finishing the game, a fact that officials refuse to acknowledge when they bring him in for questioning. It’s up to one clever kid and his plucky sidekick to convince the government not to strike against the Soviet Union. If he doesn’t stop them from taking defensive measures in time, the results will be apocalyptic.
It’s very scary to think that a tech-savvy teenager could bring the world to the brink of accidental nuclear war. The scenario is just shy of realistic, yet it certainly has enough believable elements to make it compelling viewing. Watching this will teach viewers a few important lessons. Never write your password down and tape it next to the computer – especially if you are a high school principal. Never use a single word as entry into your computer – especially if that computer happens to be capable of setting off a major international conflict. And chiefly, never allow a computer such power in the first place. Incidentally, aside from all these fairly obvious lessons, the movie also taught me a nifty way of eating corn on the cob that I had never before encountered. Butter a piece of bread, then wrap the bread around the corn and you’ll have a uniformly buttered cob without a lot of dripping. Of course, you also have a spare piece of bread lying around, but still, I was happy with the results when I tried it.
Because of my dad’s profession, computers have always been a part of my life, even as far back as this movie’s release. In the nearly hour-long making-of documentary, Broderick talks about how this movie exposed many people to the idea of home computers for the first time. I remember the black screen and the command prompts, as well as the kick I got out of having a “conversation” with the computer in which I typed and it talked back. For me, then, seeing the now clunky-looking technology in David’s room was a nice nostalgia blast.
Another thing that the documentary mentions is that originally, screenwriters Lawrence Lasker and Walter Parkes envisioned John Lennon portraying Falken, the reclusive genius who created the WOPR and whose aid David seeks after he breaks out of NORAD, the government facility where WOPR is housed. Instead, John Wood plays Falken, and the creepiest part of the movie occurs when he hollowly tells the teens of the futility of their efforts as a film about the extinction of the dinosaurs plays in the background. Wood’s morose maturity balances out their vibrant urgency; he has the gravitas and expertise to convince the government that David speaks the truth, while it’s up to David and Jennifer to persuade the bereaved programmer that human existence is worth preserving.
While the main plot involves David’s quest, we also periodically check in with NORAD, where the chief characters are Dabney Coleman’s McKittrick, a snappish official who is all for taking missiles out of the hands of the humans and turning over as much responsibility to the computer as possible, and Barry Corbin’s General Beringer, who’s not too keen on WOPR and whose colorful, homespun exclamations add levity to most of the movie’s darkest moments.
Keeping the primary focus on the teenagers helps to lighten the movie’s mood, so while this is a high-concept film with a truly unsettling premise, it’s also fun to watch. As annoying as David can be in the presence of authority figures, he’s mostly the kind of guy you want to root for, and Sheedy, who I mostly know from her wonderful turn as batty animal lover Stephanie in Short Circuit, simply shines alongside Broderick. If you’ve never seen this commentary on the dangers of giving computers too much control, now is a good time to play WarGames.
Tuesday, April 4, 2000
Laugh Until You Short a Circuit
The very first time I saw this movie, I was not thrilled about watching
it. In fact, I curled up in the other room reading "Watership Down" to
avoid watching this boring military movie. But as I read, the
spontaneous outbursts of riotous laughter from my family convinced me to
wander over to see what was going on. And I was hooked.
Since that first viewing, I've probably watched "Short Circuit" a hundred times, thoroughly enjoying it each time. It is the tale of a robot who wants to be more. The story begins at the NOVA robotics center, where a demonstration is cut short by a sudden storm. Upstairs, the robots line up to promenade down to show themselves off to the visitors. Number 5 is in the wrong place at the wrong time (or should I say the right place at the right time?) and is struck by lightning. Seemingly unfazed by the incident, he follows the other robots but gets distracted by a robotic coffee server. One thing leads to another, and he finds himself outside, in the bed of a truck leading out into the country. Voraciously reading everything in sight, he is a sort of metallic Pinocchio who finds himself brought to life by the blue fairy of lightning.
While NOVA is in an uproar looking for him, he hitches a ride on the back of a snack truck driven by a young woman named Stephanie. She unknowingly drives him home, and when she discovers him she welcomes him into her home, convinced he is an alien. Fascinated by all the wonderful new things in Stephanie's house, he begins to investigate...wreaking havoc in the process. The rest of the movie is pure laughs as Stephanie learns Number 5's true identity, NOVA tries to recapture him, and Number 5 tries to convince everyone that he is alive.
Great characters are just as essential to this movie as the hilarious situations and memorable lines. There's Number 5, of course, the robot who is learning what it is to be human and teaching everyone else in the process. Stephanie is the rather ditzy animal-lover who takes him in and eventually begins to believe his story. Newton Crosby, the creator of Number 5, is a pacifist who has fallen for Stephanie but thinks she's crazy to believe that Number 5 is alive. And then there's Ben, the idiom-mixing-up fellow from who-knows-where who evokes a laugh each time he speaks.
This movie is just plain clean fun, and it raises some very interesting issues as well about what it means to be alive. Number 5 (re-christened Johnny 5) was one of the predecessors to Star Trek's Data and many of the other androids we love so much. He appears in a second film with Ben, and that is well worth a viewing. But the original movie is the one which I will continue to watch over and over again. One of the funniest movies of all time, any connaisseur of comedy should pick this one up. It is sure to become a family favorite.
Since that first viewing, I've probably watched "Short Circuit" a hundred times, thoroughly enjoying it each time. It is the tale of a robot who wants to be more. The story begins at the NOVA robotics center, where a demonstration is cut short by a sudden storm. Upstairs, the robots line up to promenade down to show themselves off to the visitors. Number 5 is in the wrong place at the wrong time (or should I say the right place at the right time?) and is struck by lightning. Seemingly unfazed by the incident, he follows the other robots but gets distracted by a robotic coffee server. One thing leads to another, and he finds himself outside, in the bed of a truck leading out into the country. Voraciously reading everything in sight, he is a sort of metallic Pinocchio who finds himself brought to life by the blue fairy of lightning.
While NOVA is in an uproar looking for him, he hitches a ride on the back of a snack truck driven by a young woman named Stephanie. She unknowingly drives him home, and when she discovers him she welcomes him into her home, convinced he is an alien. Fascinated by all the wonderful new things in Stephanie's house, he begins to investigate...wreaking havoc in the process. The rest of the movie is pure laughs as Stephanie learns Number 5's true identity, NOVA tries to recapture him, and Number 5 tries to convince everyone that he is alive.
Great characters are just as essential to this movie as the hilarious situations and memorable lines. There's Number 5, of course, the robot who is learning what it is to be human and teaching everyone else in the process. Stephanie is the rather ditzy animal-lover who takes him in and eventually begins to believe his story. Newton Crosby, the creator of Number 5, is a pacifist who has fallen for Stephanie but thinks she's crazy to believe that Number 5 is alive. And then there's Ben, the idiom-mixing-up fellow from who-knows-where who evokes a laugh each time he speaks.
This movie is just plain clean fun, and it raises some very interesting issues as well about what it means to be alive. Number 5 (re-christened Johnny 5) was one of the predecessors to Star Trek's Data and many of the other androids we love so much. He appears in a second film with Ben, and that is well worth a viewing. But the original movie is the one which I will continue to watch over and over again. One of the funniest movies of all time, any connaisseur of comedy should pick this one up. It is sure to become a family favorite.
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