Movies I Watched in February, Part 1

I slacked off on my movie watching last month, so this'll be the first of two short installments... 

Kicked off an '80s Scorsese double feature with this jet-black comedy about a horny schmuck (Griffin Dunne) who ventures out into Manhattan late one night and then. Just. Cannot. Get. Back. Home. Few movies – especially few comedies – manage to convey the strange vibe of an actual nightmare, but “After Hours” achieves this impressive (and unnerving) task, putting a never-ending series of weird, uncomfortable, just-this-side-of-believable obstacles in Dunne’s path. You’re torn between feeling for the poor guy’s plight and chuckling nervously about how it keeps getting worse and worse (and worse). The script (by Joseph Minion) is tight and tense, and Scorsese (with assistance from cinematographer Michael Ballhaus and editor Thelma Schoonmaker) delivers a once-of-a-kind viewing experience, but top marks here go to the mind-blowing cast: Rosanna Arquette, Teri Garr, Catherine O’Hara, Dick Miller, Bronson Pinchot, Cheech and Chong, Verna Bloom (Mrs. Wormer from “Animal House”), Linda Fiorentino, both of Scorsese’s parents and, with arguably the best performances, the late John Heard as a very tense bartender and Will Patton as, well, as …. Horst. The DVD extras propose a different, even more bizarre ending, but the one they chose is note perfect. One of the best of the 1980s, in fact.

Another black comedy from Scorsese, this one arguably even darker (and a hell of a lot more believable) than "After Hours" and featuring a hall of fame dramatic performance from none other than the late Mr. Jerry Lewis. He plays Jerry Langford, a Johnny Carson-esque talk show host who has the unfortunate luck of becoming the focus of Rupert Pupkin (Robert De Niro), a guy who not only wants to be famous, he believes he deserves to be famous, and he’ll do whatever it takes to step into the spotlight. Even the most grueling scenes of violence in “Taxi Driver” and “Casino” can’t match the sheer nerve-wracking qualities of this film, when Pupkin barges in on Jerry’s office and home and JUST WILL NOT TAKE THE HINT that he is not wanted. If you can stand it, though (and after years of “Seinfeld,” “Curb” and the British “The Office”, I think we’re all a bit more hardened to cringe-worthy entertainment than 1982 audiences were), it’s truly great filmmaking on every level. Keep an eye out, by the way, for members of The Clash.

Not great, but not terrible either, this slasher movie spin on “Groundhog Day” is at least imaginative enough to hold your interest for an hour-and-a-half, and though I’m not a huge fan of PG-13 horror movies, this one is innocuous enough (except for some slight sexual content and largely bloodless murders) to watch with your older kids, too. Bratty sorority chick Tree Gelbman (?) relives the day of her murder over and over, realizing eventually that (a) she can use her knowledge of the day to her advantage and (b) she’s got to actually find out who’s killing her to break the cycle. Obviously, it’s a LOT like “Groundhog Day,” right down to the fact that our hero becomes a much better person as she runs the cycle repeatedly. There are a couple nice twists and false endings to liven things up, and as Tree Gelbman (??), Jessica Rothe is genuinely fun to watch, bringing charisma and an offbeat sense of humor to the role. Worth a look.
Up next: M. Night Shyamalan returns to the well, Bette Davis drives drunk with an Oscar, and Sterling Hayden bets it all on one last heist. (No, the other movie where Sterling Hayden bets it all on one last heist.)