Director Report Card: John Landis (2010)

20. Burke & Hare

In 1828, a pair of grave robbers in Edinburgh, Scotland realized the bodies they stole and sold to the local medical academy would be worth more if they were fresher. The men, William Burke and William Hare, began to murder people and sell the bodies for a profit. The local physicians, eager to learn more about human anatomy, were happy to purchase them. The crimes were a major scandal of the day, calling into question the limits of medical science and drawing attention to the crime of grave robbing. Sixty years later, Robert Louis Stevenson would write a short story inspired by the duo, bringing their crimes into the modern age. From there, filmmakers and playwrights would be inspired by the notorious killers, at least seven distinct movies telling their story. Somehow, we would see two films inspired by the grave robbers last decade. “I Sell the Dead,” which added zombies to the mix, came out in 2008. Two years later, John Landis would make his big comeback to narrative features with his “Burke & Hare,” a distinctly more light-hearted take on the infamous duo. 

Landis' “Burke and Hare” follow the bare bones outline of the true story but add countless fictional elaborations. (As the opening scene puts it, "This is a true story. Except for all the parts we made up.") Burke and Hare are con men living in Edinburgh, just trying to make a buck. When a lodger in Hare's house dies, the two men set upon an opportunity. They decide to sell the body to Dr. Robert Knox, an anatomist determined to win the king's favor by completely mapping the human body. Realizing this is a good source of in-come, Burke and Hare begin to murder people to sell their bodies. Hare is egged on by his greedy wife while Burke continues the crimes to fund an all-female production of “MacBeth,” being staged by a former prostitute he has fallen in love with. 

After striking the perfect balance of comedy and brutal violence in “An American Werewolf in London,” John Landis had a lot of trouble finding that equilibrium again in his later films. Throughout the likes of “Into the Night” or “Susan's Plan,” broad comedy would stand awkwardly next to sudden blood and guts. “Burke & Hare” sees the director doing a better job of mixing humor and death. Maybe the period setting adds the appropriate distance. Or maybe this story being such well-trotted cinematic ground makes exaggerating Burke and Hare's crimes into absurd actions easier to digest. Perhaps the gags here – like a body ghoulishly bent in half to fit in a barrel or blood spurting from a severed foot onto an unsuspecting student – are simply just better than what we've gotten in the past. 

Or, perhaps, the director was simply feeling more like himself this time. “Burke & Hare” has that particular John Landis feeling more than many of his latter day pictures. Once again, we see the filmmaker mocking the establishment. Burke and Hare, criminals though they may be, are also working class guys just trying to get by. Their foils are well-to-do physicians, stuffy royal guardsmen, and rich gangsters. Through his willingness to disregard the law, Dr. Knox is revealed to be as greedy and immoral – and as driven by petty grudges, considering his rivalry with another anatomist – as the resurrection men. The guardsman is a glory-seeking nut while his men are buffoons. “Burke & Hare” sees Landis happily returning to his anti-authoritarian roots, mocking those in power and making the common, slobby guys the heroes.

There is a degree of this subtext built into the real Burke and Hare story, after all. Many adaptations of the story give into an anti-science prejudice, asking how far science will go in the pursuit of knowledge. However, most of the other “Burke & Hares” realize that money, not science, is the bad guy here. Burke, Hare, and their victims are all being abused by a system that prioritizes profit over human life. They murder because it gets them cash, the people-in-power indifferent to their crimes as long as they get what they want. In Landis' take, Hare kills to please his power-hungry wife and Burke goes along because he fears Ginny won't like him if she learns he's poor. Cash motivates everyone to misbehave.

No matter how grim the subject matter may be, “Burke & Hare” keeps the tone light. It is, in fact, a romantic-comedy. Burke and Ginny's romance is based around a classic misunderstanding. He doesn't want her to know he kills people for money. She doesn't want him to know she used to be a prostitute. Both are hiding something and eventually learn that they love each other for who they are, not who they aren't. The film also mines a lot of humor from the couple's repeated inability to consummate their relationship. (This is not a problem Hare has, as the film treats us to several explicit, and farcical, love scenes between him and his wife.) It's nothing we haven't seen before but is mildly cute here.

Another decent gag the movie returns to repeatedly is an anachronistic streak. The film presents several characters taking credit for more modern inventions and ideas. Nicephore Niepce, one of the early inventors of the photograph, waltz through the story as a cohort of Dr. Knox. (In truth, Niepce actually died only ten years after the Burke and Hare murders.) Hare's wife gives him the idea to create a funeral parlor business, the body snatcher easily sliding from one profession involving cheating people and death to another. I'm pretty sure funerals were already around by this point but it's a solid joke. So is a mobster in the story inadvertently inventing the idea of paying protection money... Which quickly evolves into the idea of life insurance. It's a chuckle-worthy set-up that the film happily does multiple times.

Sadly, not all the gags in “Burke & Hare” are this inspired. The movie features its fair share of uninspired slapstick. An early sequence involves a barrel, stuffed with the titular duo's first victim, rolling down the street. A decent enough joke at first, this particular gag goes on for far too long. More than once, “Burke & Hare” tries to wring laughs out of hoary comedic moments. Like the duo being splattered with waste from a dumped chamber pot. Or a guard getting his foot smashed in a door. These are not Landis' most funny-bone-tickling jokes and many seem included as desperate attempts to get the audience to laugh.

While describing “Burke & Hare” as a horror movie is a slightly misleading statement, John Landis returning to the United Kingdom does allow for him to touch on a similar atmosphere as to what we saw in “American Werewolf.” There's a sequence where an obese dandy is stalked through the foggy Edinburgh streets by Burke, eventually being frightened to death by Hare appearing suddenly with a hammer and sickle. The combination of that foggy Scottish atmosphere and a decent building of tension makes for a memorable scene. Much of “Burke & Hare” was shot on a sound-stage too. When combined with the period setting and grisly story, this can't help but remind me of Hammer Studios' classic horror pictures. Which was likely an intentional homage. 

Despite its frequent weaknesses, “Burke & Hare” still remains largely charming throughout. And that's mostly thanks to its cast. “Shaun of the Dead” would briefly turn Simon Pegg into a movie star, Most of the films Pegg would make without Edgar Wright's involvement would be pretty lame. While “Burke & Hare” arguably belongs in that company, Pegg is still delightful throughout the film. His ability to be comically exasperated is put to good use, Burke responding to the increasingly ruthless events of the story with shock. Pegg's ability to be a charming, everyman also makes him ideal for this part. So, no matter no depraved his actions may seem, the audience is always on Burke's side.

David Tennant was originally intended to star opposite Pegg but he dropped out before filming began, with Andy Serkis stepping into the role. Serkis happily hams it up as Hare. He plays Hare as a man who is always after his next con, totally feckless about everything as long as it means he gets paid. This ruthlessness is pragmatic, Hare simply seeing murder as the most direct path to success. Serkis brings a gleeful nastiness to the part, his sleazy smile often bringing a certain comedic energy to even the film's most dire jokes. It's an unlikely leading role for Serkis but he equates himself with the disreputable character well enough.

While the buddy dynamics of Pegg and Serkis clearly dominate the film, there's some strong supporting turns too. Isla Fisher is adorable and funny as Ginny, making it easy to see why Burke falls for her so quickly and so hard. Jessica Hynes, who also appeared o “Spaced” with Pegg, is amusingly wicked as Hare's Lady MacBeth-like wife. Tom Wilkinson is a workable straight man as Dr. Knox, playing the role as a man utterly convinced of his goals. Landis being the kind of director he is, he includes colorful supporting roles fro some lovable character actors. Tim Curry curls his fingers and chuckles devilishly in that wonderfully Tim Curry-like manner as Knox's rival, a stuck-up fop with a foot fetish. Christopher Lee has only one scene but makes an impression, getting to shout theatrically in a wild accent. There's also a bit part from director Paul Davis, who made the “Beware the Moon” documentary and who I used to occasionally talk with on the old MovieManiacs.net forum.

“Burke & Hare” was developed by Ealing Studios, the same company behind famously beloved dark comedies like “Kind Hearts and Coronets” and “The Ladykillers.” This put “Burke & Hare” in good company. However, the film is not destined for classic-status like those pictures. Like most of Simon Pegg's non-Edgar Wright films, it would come and go from the box office without making much of an impression. While the material is sometimes weak, the cast proves charming enough and there's just enough laughs to justify watching it. If you want to watch a good film inspired by Burke and Hare, check out “The Body Snatcher” or “The Flesh and the Fiends.” If you want to see that John Landis could still string together a half-decent motion picture though, this one at least proves that. [Grade: B-]

Obviously, “Burke & Hare” was meant to be a comeback vehicle for Landis and, obviously, it didn't exactly work. He hasn't made another film in the ten years since. It's possible, in this day and age, that a director with the kind of baggage Landis has just can't be hired anymore. Either way, he has slipped comfortably into the elder statesman role, being active as a producer and continuing to appear in retrospectives. (As well as being a regular on the “Trailers from Hell” Youtube series.) Watching all his films was sometimes an exercise in tedium but it did contain a few surprises and most of those classics remain unimpeachable. 

Director Report Card: John Landis (2007)

19. Mr. Warmth: The Don Rickles Project

While he's well-known for his comedy hits, horror hybrids, and personal negligence on film sets, John Landis is also known as a devotee of classic show business. If you look at his IMDb, John Landis has the most credits not under directing, acting, or producing. It's as Himself, appearing in various documentaries and on television to talk about the history of Hollywood and film making. So, perhaps inevitable, the director would eventually make a documentary about show business. Combining his interests in classic film and classic comedy in 2007, Landis would direct a film about Don Rickles.

“Mr. Warmth: The Don Rickles Project” is both a biographic documentary and a stand-up comedy film. The stand-up portion of the film largely consists of clips from the insult comic's performances at the Stardust Hotel in 2006. Rickles' live show was rarely recorded, so this was a nice look into the famously caustic comedian's routine. “Mr. Warmth” is also a retrospective of Rickles' fifty year-plus career as a stand-up and actor. This is told by himself, his family, his friends, fans and admirers. 

Don Rickles certainly held a honored place in American pop culture. The guy popularized the genre of insult comedy. Through his frequent late night talk show appearances – some of which are shown in the film – he became a beloved fixture in homes across the country. Rickles was 80 years old when “Mr. Warmth” was filmed. One can assume that this performance did not represent his wit at his sharpest. Though, yes, Rickles does generate a few laughs throughout “Mr. Warmth.” Most of his comedy is based around insulting the racial and ancestral backgrounds of people in his audience, in crude and obvious ways. He dips his toes into some hoary material about his geriatric sex life and performs a few oddly sincere songs.

Of course, from the perspective of modern sensitivity, Rickles' material is horribly offensive. He equates all Germans with Nazis, all Japanese people with Imperial soldiers. (Yes, Rickles was still telling World War II jokes in 2006.) He assumes all Irish people are alcoholics, all British people are stuck-up, all Italians are groggy gangsters. Naturally, black people and indigenous people are mocked and talked-down-to. Modern stand-ups say you can never “punch down.” Rickles' entire act was based on punching down. Rickles' contemporaries and comedians influenced by him – Sidney Poitier and Chris Rock among them – assure us that it's okay. That Rickles mocked everyone equally, therefore making his blatant racism and other -isms okay. It's still absolutely more uncomfortable than amusing in this day and age.

“Mr. Warmth” collects together a litany of Rickles' celebrity friends and fans. The very first scene has Harry Dean Stanton playing the harmonica and singing in a bar, a smoldering cigarette and a glass of rum near-by. In quick succession, we see Robert DeNiro, Clint Eastwood, Chris Rock, Sarah Silverman, Bob Newhart, Whoopi Goldberg, Billy Crystal, Jay Leno, Regis Philbin, Larry King, Debbie Reynolds, George Lopez, and many more. Most of these interviews are not especially insightful. The majority of them are devoted to talking about how great or influential Rickles is. Most memorable is Martin Scorsese's interview, largely becomes he comes across as an adorably dorky guy, wheezing and laughing through his recollections. (Robin Williams' interview, which extends into a regrettable impersonation of a Chinese person, shows he was perhaps a little too influenced by Rickles.)

After about a half-hour of Rickles' stand-up and these glowing interviews, “Mr. Warmth” finally begins to delve into Rickles' actual life. We learn that Rickles grew up as in a Lithuanian Jewish family in New York City. He wanted to pursue acting but had a natural tendency towards smart-ass-ery. He eventually joined the military, in hopes of being an entertainer, but ended up being a Navy gunner in the Philippines. This only provides a brief glimpse into Rickles' history, into what turned him into the man he is. We learn he was extremely close to his mother, who was both his greatest fan and his biggest critic. One presumes that what he experienced in the war probably had an affect on his outlook. Yet “Mr. Warmth” is largely disinterested in probing deeply into Rickles' personality. 

“Mr. Warmth” does give us some brief glimpses into Rickles' life. Very brief. The beginning of the film shows him getting dressed before the show, lounging around in a bathrobe. Talking with his manager about sports scores or the quality of coffee. On his way to the stage, he pauses to give a random stage hand a big hug. We see home movies of his trips abroad with Bob Newhart, who he was apparently close friends with. Through these small moments, and the interviews we get with his longtime friends, we get a better impression of Rickles as a man. He seems to be a quiet guy who was very close to those he loved. This would've been a meaningful contrast to his stage persona if “Mr. Warmth” devoted more time to exploring it.

“Mr. Warmth” is perhaps, more compelling, as a look at a version of show business that's even more antiquated than Rickles' material. We get a peek at what Las Vegas was like in the late fifties and early sixties. Not yet the mecca of entertainment it is now, the city was largely a collection of hotels and casinos surrounded by miles of empty deserts. There are recollections of how the Mafia kept the entire city rolling, spoken of with perhaps too much fondness. Rickles talks about working his way up through the various hotels, beginning as an opening act, moving up to headliner, and finally working his way into bigger auditoriums. Show business doesn't really work this way anymore, being a far bigger machine with many more moving parts. It's charming to see a version of the entertainment world that was far more compact and personal.

As a film, “Mr. Warmth” does not represent John Landis at his most visually innovative. It's a pretty flat looking film. We have a series of talking heads, archive footage, and relatively straight-forward presentations of Rickles' stand-up performance. There's not much to it, especially compared to “Slasher,” which was a much more exciting looking motion picture. However, there is one sequence I like in “Mr. Warmth.” We see a bag blowing over an empty Las Vegas dune, followed by similarly still shots of Rickles' shoes and suits in their closest. That was neat. 

That “Mr. Warmth” looks so flat might be owed to it being, basically, a television movie. It was produced by Dark Horse Comics' film division, played a few festivals, but basically premiered on HBO. It's essentially a fluff piece, not that different than many of the minor documentaries Landis has contributed his name to over the years. Still, I guess someone was impressed, as Rickles won a Emmy for Best Performance in a Variety Special. (Which I can't imagine was an especially packed category.) I would've liked to have seen a more personal look into Rickles' life and career, that perhaps grappled with the obvious problematic elements of his act, than this fawning look at the star. [Grade: C]

Director Report Card: John Landis (2004)

18. Slasher

Directing seven box office flops in a row did something that dropping a helicopter on Vic Marrow and two kids couldn't: It ended John Landis' career. With no other options left, Landis would completely shift gears for his eighteenth feature. Landis decided to make a documentary. Initially, he set out to make a documentary about George W. Bush and the War on Terror, comparing the lying president to lying used car dealers. Instead, he found the used car dealers way more interesting. “Slasher” would be a co-production with IFC, back when that network was still the Independent Film Channel. Though not widely seen, “Slasher” would win the director his best reviews in years.

Despite the director's history with horror/comedies, the title of “Slasher” does not refer to a masked lunatic cutting up teenagers. Instead, it refers to Michael Bennett, a professional used car dealer. Used car lots all over the country fly Bennett in for special “slasher” sales, where vehicle prices are cut down to as low as 88 dollars. Bennett, an energetic and eccentric figure, puts on a theatrical and gimmicky show in the hopes of drawing in as many customers as possible. “Slasher” documents Bennett heading out to Memphis, Tennessee for a slasher sale over the course of one weekend during a blistering hot summer in the early 2000s. 

In “Slasher,” we see that the cars salesman's greatest asset is not negotiation skills or a quality product. It's showmanship. Bennett comes along with a crew of different men. They have a DJ blast music. Attractive women are recruited from the local area as eye candy. Bennett wears a tux and shouts exciting phrases into a microphone, like a pro-wrestler cutting a promo. Customers are lured in with the promise of an 88 dollar car but never know if they are getting the cheap deal until they find it. Bennett himself explains the tactic, that the customer can get caught up in the sensationalism and be sold on a deal that isn't as good as promised. One of “Slasher's” best scenes occurs near the end, when we see the woman who drove off with the fabled 88 dollar car... Which then becomes nonoperational after she brings it home. “Slasher” is a guided tour to how businesses can rip off customers.

The success of documentaries like this are depended entirely upon how interesting their subjects are. “Slasher” luckily has a fascinating central figure. Michael Bennett is introduced shaving with his wife's razor, much to his chagrin. He kisses his daughters goodbye before getting on the road, having a cigarette and a beer for breakfast. The gravelly voiced Bennett has a never-flagging energy while out on the lot, shouting catchphrases and always wheeling-and-dealing. His sense-of-humor is infectious, his constant energy hard to take your eyes off. In his downtime, he drinks alcohol like water and refers back to a past in prison. Despite obviously being troubled, Bennett's wife cares deeply about him and he talks often of wanting to return home. He's a multi-faceted, fascinating person.

Bennett's story proves to be a highly cinematic one too. Bennett getting paid by the car dealership depends entirely on him selling a certain number of cars before the slasher sale is over. So the real life story has a built-in time limit, leading to a great deal of suspense. This is especially true when sales start to slow down on Saturday. Seeing an empty parking lot, Bennett and his team performing for one or two people, is a discouraging sight. Yet “Slasher” has a triumphant conclusion too, sales turning upwards on Sunday and Bennett pulling it off. I know creative editing plays its role but “Slasher's” real story is still highly dramatic, full of natural tension and satisfying pay-offs.

In the past, John Landis has done a good job of adding a sense of character to his films by emphasizing the locations. In “Slasher,” Memphis is as much a character as any of the main players. Bennett and his friends met several eccentric locals, including a man who keeps beer-drinking goats behind his business. They eat lots of delicious-looking barbecue. Seemingly everyone in the town has a story about Elvis and the King's face is spotted on many buildings and businesses. Landis' camera also captures the less glamorous side of Memphis. We see abandoned, ruined buildings and the improvised people who live there. “Slasher” gives you a good sense of this famous, beloved city.

The focus on those ruined homes also roots “Slasher” to a very specific place in time. The film begins with a montage of presidential lies, winding through Richard Nixon insisting he's not a crook and concluding with Bush II talking about WMDs. While Landis' intention was to link full-of-shit politicians with shyster car salesmen, he instead ends up characterizing “Slasher” as a post-9/11, global recession era work. More than once, the owner of the dealership acknowledges that running a sale during a depression is tricky. Many of the customers come to the car lot with the intention of buying a vehicle. When the dealers see their credit, they have to turn them down. There's this fear that the car dealership may end up like any of the other defunct businesses that fill the area. “Slasher” is a snapshot of a time that has never really ended for a lot of people, of being broke in a broke town, when they don't even have the cash to buy a piece-of-shit car.

But don't get the impression that “Slasher” is a downbeat film. It's actually really funny. Bennett and his gang are colorful characters, prone to bizarre, digressive conversations. An early discussion about Bennett having to piss badly is responded to with blank shock. The closer relates a story about how he knew his wife was the woman for him when she tried to beat his ass. After the successful sale, “Slasher” amusingly continues on a little longer, showing the guys bickering and arguing as they get lost on the way to the airport. It's all natural comedy, arising out of eccentric real people just living their lives and being themselves.

“Slasher” represents Landis shifting, not just genres, but styles too. It was his first movie shot digitally and there's a certain kinetic quality to the often handheld photography. Despite the changes, many of the director's trademarks are still present. Befitting the location, “Slasher” has a classic blues/rock soundtrack that adds a lot of energy to the proceedings. (During one such musical montage, Landis makes sure to pause on a statue of the Blues Brothers inside a record store.) The editing is snappy, “Slasher” moving along at a quick pace like many of Landis' early, best films. The director also makes room for his trademark titillation, during Bennett's stop over in a strip club.

After having increasingly less success with traditional, narrative films, it's apparent to me that a change of scenario was exactly what John Landis needed. Compared to the increasingly awkward comedies he made in the nineties, “Slasher” is a breath of fresh air. It moves quickly, getting in and out in less than ninety minutes. It's consistently funny, interesting, and energetic. It also captures a time and place in an unobtrusive way. By the way, some people looked up Michael Bennett in 2016 and, if his LinkedIn profile is anything to go by, he's still out there, pumping up used car sales and slashing prices. [Grade: B]

Director Report Card: John Landis (2000)

17. Susan’s Plan

John Landis spent the entire nineties making one flop after another. While some of these bombs were arguably secret creative successes, many of them were just stinkers. Studio meddling and combative egos certainly played a role in some of those failures. Frustrated, especially by the experience of making “Blues Brothers 2000,” John Landis decided to go the independent route. After all, the independent scene had grown only more prominent in the nineties. He wrote a quirky, crime comedy himself and quickly got together the money to make it, along with a surprisingly stacked cast. This plan also ended up backfiring. “Susan's Plan” would play festivals  for several years, to mediocre responses, before finally being crapped onto the straight-to-video market in 2000 under the embarrassingly bad title of “Dying to Get Rich.”

As the title indicates, Susan does indeed have a plan. Recently separated from her husband Paul, Susan intends on killing him and collecting his substantial life insurance policy. Along with her boyfriend, Sam, she hires two imbeciles – Bill and Steve – to pull of the plan. They shoot Paul but he lives, ending up in the hospital. This complicates Susan's plan, causing a slutty friend to help seduce Paul's doctor and a psychotic biker to help complete the murder. Before too long, guilty consciences begin to rear up. Suspicion filters through the group and alliances become shaky.

Filmed in the late nineties, “Susan's Plan” came after “Pulp Fiction” spawned a whole horde of stylish, indie neo-noirs and quirky crime dramas. Landis wasn't setting out to parody flicks like “Destiny Turns on the Radio,” “Love and a .45,” “Things to Do in Denver When You're Dead,” or any number of other films. Instead, “Susan's Plan” is a goofy, weird, and low budget attempt to fit in with these films. The tangled plot filled with murder, criminals, and twisting perceptions of time mark it as a clear member of this wanna-be Tarantino genre. As for the low budget, that is apparent in the fact that most of the movie only takes place on a few plain, meagerly furbished sets. 

When the laughs come in “Susan's Plan” – which isn't too often – they are largely born out of the frustrations within the group. When you have a large group of characters taking part in the same plan, things quickly grow complicated. An early scene involves Sam, Bill and Steve having a misunderstand while talking on their car phones. Another mildly funny bit concerns a whole crowd of characters rushing around the hospital, trying to avoid multiple parties at the same time. Very occasionally, “Susan's Plan” will be able to mine the difficulty of getting people to listen or operate as a whole for decent laughs.

Inside of generating amusement, “Susan's Plan” seems stuck on several repetitive ideas. One idea the movie constantly returns to is a character imagining an outlandish scenario, which is then revealed to be a dream. It's a version of a gag Landis utilized much better in “An American Werewolf in London.” Including a moment containing a fantasy-within-a-fantasy, a direct quote of his earlier, better film. These reoccurring daydreams do serve a purpose in the story. The participants in this crime repeatedly imagine everything going wrong in the most graphic way, usually ending in someone's death. At one point, Betty – that's the slutty friend – even imagines Paul as a zombie dragging her down into the pool. All of this clearly points towards the guilt everyone feels for their involvement in this crime. Or the lingering tension in the air that they will get caught or end up dead. Yet “Susan's Plan” returning to this idea over and over again quickly drains it of any power to shock or intrigue.

The other idea “Susan's Plan” seems stuck on is random burst of ultra-violence. This is the main indicator that John Landis directed the film. His obsession with inserting scenes of graphic gore into comedies has always been weird and it's rarely been more tonally obtrusive than here. Characters die on-screen, usually in those fantasy scenes, in sudden and violent ways. Bullets to the head, strangulation, or throat slashing all occur with the swift brutality of a werewolf attack. Unlike in “American Werewolf in London,” where the sudden burst of violence served a purpose, here it just feels unnecessary and mean-spirited. There's no reason for a madcap comedy to feature this much blood and death. Considering how foolish the characters are, their repeated brutal deaths just make it seem like Landis hates all of them. This results in an overly nihilistic tone.

I could give “Susan's Plan” the benefit of the doubt, that maybe it's suppose to be a dark comedy and the bloody deaths are all a part of that. But then how do you explain the rest of the comedy in this movie, which is often crude and juvenile? Such as the extended scene early on, where characters are trapped in a closet together and one of them repeatedly farts? Or the bickering old couple, trading Borscht Belt worthy dialogue, who are randomly inserted at a late point in the story? It's as if John Landis had an idea for a bloody crime flick but felt the need to make it funny. When he realized his own, weird sense of humor was severely off, he added broad, goofy gags like these. The tonal whiplash is real.

“Susan's Plan” is a vehicle for Natassaja Kinski, around the same time she was starring in schlock like “.com for Murder” or “The Day the World Ended.” Yet despite having her name in the title of the movie, Susan doesn't feel like the main character. The character ostensibly motivates the entire plot, by putting the scheme to murder Paul into action. Yet we never feel the connection between Susan and Paul, the two never sharing any scenes together. Other characters perform most of the important actions in the film. If Susan is suppose to be a master planner, she sure doesn't come off that way. Kinski's performance is weirdly low-energy.

Despite its obvious low budget, “Susan's Plan” has a cast full of recognizable names and faces. Furthering the weird tonal disconnect between the broad violence and the wackiness is how comically over-the-top much of the acting is. Lara Flynn Boyle plays Betty as a flighty, aggressively ditzy who uses her sexuality to get what she wants. In a traditional noir, she'd be a femme fatale but there's not much fatale about Boyle's goofy performance. Rob Schneider appears as Steve, one of the moronic would-be hitmen. He's doing his typical Rob Schneider thing, becoming increasingly dumb and child-like as he gets more frustrated. At least Michael Biehn is cast against type as Bill, the other idiot. You'd be hard pressed to see the usual tough guys Biehn plays in this deeply doofy character. Adrian Paul, of TV's “Highlander,” plays Paul like a cartoon character, totally clueless and with a big, toothy smile.

Of the comedic performances in the film, the best one is probably Thomas Haden Church. Church is relatively amusing as the doctor who Betty seduces, a man who seems to think of himself as an authority figure but is rendered utterly useless around a flirtatious young woman. The other solid performances in the film are the more serious examples. Billy Zane utilize some of his snobby charm as Susan's put-upon boyfriend. Most intriguing is Dan Aykroyd as Bob, the murderous biker called upon to finish the job. Seeing Aykroyd cast as a remorseless killer is certainly interesting. He acquits himself with this type of character quite well, being properly gruff and intimidating.

Throughout his career, John Landis' movies have frequently featured gratuitous nudity. I don't think there's any deeper meaning beneath this. The guy just likes to look at naked ladies. Somehow, it's never come off as creepy before “Susan's Plan.” Here, Landis' proclivity towards sex and boobs officially becomes uncomfortable. The movie features several sex scenes, few of which contribute to the plot, all of which are rather flatly shot. The  graphic humpery feels included more for its own sake, making the director come off as a dirty old man eager to oogle young bodies. It's yet another layer that makes “Susan's Plan” such an awkward, off-balance motion picture.

Another fucking weird thing about this movie is the score. The soundtrack is from Peter Bernstein, a composer who has largely worked in television and low budget genre films, like “Silent Rage” or “Hot Dog: The Movie.” Bernstein provides essentially one musical cue for “Susan's Plan,” which the movie then repeats endlessly. Normally, I'd blame this on Bernstein or the film's low budget. Except Landis did something similar in “Oscar,” hammering one short piece of music into the ground until the audience is utterly sick of it. Considering how repetitive the film's structure is, I'm honestly curious if the music acting similarly wasn't an intentional choice.

Ultimately, I'm really not sure what to make of “Susan's Plan.” As a comedy, it's not especially funny. As a crime film, it's plot is not especially engrossing. The gory violence once again comes off as mean-spirited. There's even a moment, early on, where a character says that, once you kill one person, killing another one is easy. Jesus, John Landis isn't making fun of his own history here, is he? I have no idea what the director's own motivation behind this one was but it's a low budget and tonally bizarre motion picture. This one, perhaps, deserved to be buried in the direct-to-video dump bin. [Grade: D]

Director Report Card: John Landis (1998)

16. Blues Brothers 2000

Dan Aykroyd has never been one to let a story rest. I don't think he can help himself. He loves cooking up convoluted lore too much. This is, after all, the guy who talked about “Ghostbusters 3” for three straight decades. Similarly, Aykroyd long had plans to continue the “Blues Brothers” story. This is despite the death of John Belushi. One would assume another “Blues Brothers” adventure would be impossible with only one brother. Nevertheless, Aykroyd and Landis would begin to tinker with a sequel script throughout the nineties. Once a studio became involved, they started making outrageous demands. Like the sequel should be more family-friendly or fantastical than the last. In other words, “Blues Brothers 2000” was doomed to failure from the beginning for multiple reasons.

After sixteen years, Elwood Blues is released from prison. He is informed, immediately afterwards, that his brother is dead. He soon discovers afterwards that his adoptive father, Curtis, is also gone, along with the orphanage he grew up in. Despondent, he is given a ward from the orphanage – a ten year old kid named Buster – and a desire to reform the band. He does learn that Curtis has an illegitimate son, named Chamberlain... Who turns out to be a cop, who wants nothing to do with an ex-con like Elwood. Meeting with a former band member at the strip club he owns, Elwood soon is joined by Mack, a talented bartender. After running into trouble with the Russian mob,  Detective Chamberlain and the cops in pursuit, the new Blues Brothers heads towards New Orleans for a mysterious battle of the bands.

Making a “Blues Brothers” sequel after John Belushi's death is so obviously a bad idea. Yet “Blues Brothers 2000” really emphasizes why it's a bad idea. In the original, Elwood was the straight man. While Jake would cause trouble, cheating and conning his way into situations, Elwood would more quietly observe what was happening and comment on it. In the sequel, without Belushi's chaotic energy, Dan Aykroyd becomes the protagonist. Meaning Elwood has to perform big gags – like covering his head in shaving cream – or deliver innumerable monologues on various subjects. Not only is this a weird shift in the character's personality, it shows the equilibrium of the “Blues Brothers” universe out of wack.

Replacing John Belushi was a tall order. In fact, Aykroyd and Landis quickly deduced that it would take two men to fill Belushi's shoes. And then one of those men, Jim Belushi, had to drop out of the film because of scheduling conflicts. This just left John Goodman to be the hefty guy in the black suit next to Dan Aykroyd. Now, I love John Goodman. He's a wonderful character actor and even a talented singer, which he shows off several times here. However, Goodman has an entirely different energy from Belushi. He's laid-back and a little goofy, seemingly highly grateful to even be here. So he doesn't play off of Aykroyd the same way, or as well, as Belushi did. Once again, this forces Aykroyd into the schtick-y role, which ends up being very awkward. In short: Goodman is great but he's an ill-fit for this role.

That's far from the only awkward casting choice in the film. “The Blues Brothers” was an R-rated movie. Granted, aside from the profanity, there wasn't too much explicit content in that original film. Yet making a family/friendly sequel to an R-rated classic is still a bizarre decision. Even “Blues Brothers 2000” seems confused by this. A large section of the movie is set inside a strip club... One of those strip clubs where the girls don't take their clothes off. The biggest symptom of “Blues Brothers 2000” being rejiggered by the studio in an unnatural direction is Buster. Adding a little kid to a story that never had one before always comes off as a desperate move. The film constantly ascertains Buster's importance. Such as him talking Elwood into not giving up, giving him an inexplicable talent at playing harmonica, or Elwood getting immediately attached to the kid. It's not that Buster is terrible or anything. J. Evan Bonifant, in his only film role, does about as good a job as he could. But the character simply doesn't belong here.

Honestly, John Belushi's absence leaves such a void in “Blues Brothers 2000” that not even John Goodman and a little kid is enough to fill that missing space. Joe Morton is brought in as Detective Chamberlain, presumably similar to the part that Jim Belushi would have played. Morton is a talented performer and a surprisingly versatile singer. Yet he's undeserved by a script  that has him completely changing in the course of a single scene. The film tries to turn that into a joke but it only comes off as underwritten instead. Chamberlain's change-of-heart also leaves the film without a strong antagonist, Nia Pepples' deputy left to pursue the Brothers without much motivation to do so.

Aside from all the problems facing “Blues Brothers 2000's” mere existence, it's simply not that good of a sequel. This is one of those comedy follow-ups that seems content to repeat jokes from the first movie for the majority of its run time. A nun smacks Elwood for swearing. Instead of Elwood peeling the Bluesmobile into a parking spot once, he does it every single time, diminishing returns quickly setting in. Among the groups pursuing the Blues Brothers this time is a group of right-wing militia conspiracy theory types, which is almost identical to the Neo-Nazis from the first movie. Arethra Franklin appears to sing a song under the exact same circumstances as last time. Once again, the guys get talked into playing country-and-western music despite that not being their preferred genre. During the gospel musical number, dancers leap high into the air. These are just some example of the limp reprises of jokes that were way funnier the first time around.

Many fans of the first film complained that “Blues Brothers 2000” featured far too many exaggerated sight gags, which were at odds with the more grounded atmosphere of the first film. Honestly, considering the slight surrealism of the original “Blues Brothers,” the sequel expanding on that may be the sole smart decision “2000” makes. Buster having a fully furnished bedroom in the trunk of a car or the Bluesmobile effortlessly driving underwater actually got a chuckle out of me. The film introducing ghostly cowboys, dancing zombies, or honest-to-God miracles might push the sequel into the realm of outright fantasy. But it's also completely unexpected and that's sort of funny.

My willingness to like those literal magical moments probably has something to do with them being linked to some of the best musical sequences in the sequel. Yes, if “Blues Brothers 2000” has nothing else in its favor, it's that the music and dancing are all pretty damn great. That rendition of “Riders in the Sky” is energetic, with some especially good delivery from John Goodman. “It's Cheaper to Keep Her,” which introduces Goodman's musical prowess, is also very memorable. “Funky Nassau,” the zombie-assisted calypso number from Erykah Badu, is easily the highlight of the film. The dancing cowboy minions in that scene are also very memorable. The gospel rendition of “John the Revelator” is exploding with energy. The dancing in that scene is also expertly choreographed.

Yet, as great as much of the music is, “Blues Brothers 2000” also has a pacing problem. Many of the song-and-dance scenes do not advance the plot. John Popper of Blues Traveler appears to approach Elwood in a parking lot. He sings his song, unaware that the Blues Brothers have driven off without him. This moment is in the film for no reason. Wilson Pickett and Eddie Floyd appear to sing “634-5789,” which is pretty great. Yet the extended musical number has no effect on the story, bringing the pacing to a sudden stop. The film concludes with an appearance from The Louisiana Gator Boys, a blues super-group assembled for the film. Every notable member of the band stops to perform, the camera lingering on them. Their names might as well flash on-screen, which actually happens during the credits. Yes, it's cool but it's also so excessive.

The first “Blues Brothers” was also excessive and ran on for over two hours. The sequel, however, definitely lacks the zippy pacing of the original. Not just because of the emphasis on songs over story. All the plot points collide at the Battle of the Bands, the cops, Russian mobsters, and militia boys all showing up to attack the Blues Brothers. Erykah Badu than waves her hands and all the problems almost literally go away. The film then concludes with yet another lengthy song... Before tacking yet another song on after the credits are over. This pile-up of events suggest no real ending was ever written and the filmmakers hoped some decent songs would cover up the narrative gaps.

Speaking of pile-ups! Another gag “Blues Brothers 2000” copies from the original is destroying as many cop cars as it can. In fact, the film intentionally tops the original's number of destroyed cars by exactly one. Like everything else in the film, this joke is lingered on. The car crash scene feels like it goes on forever. Still, the car stunts are pretty damn impressive. Earlier, a vehicle does an amazing triple spin through the air. “Blues Brothers 2000” then does yet more triple aerial spins during the cop car pile-up. I have no idea how some of these vehicular stunts were done, full size vehicles sailing through the air like they're kites. One has to admire such elaborate, practical stunts.

Even if the studio hadn't meddled and mandated, there's no way a sequel to “The Blues Brothers” ever would've been a good idea. John Belushi was a talent that never could have been replaced. You can't have Elwood without Jake. No number of musical special guests were going to overcome that hurdle. Even if you can look past that impossible obstacle, “Blues Brothers 2000” still would've been one of those lazy sequels that attempts to recapture the original's magic just by doing the same gags over again. It flopped, because not a single fucking soul in the world demanded this. I will admit, as a kid, I did watch this one more than the original because I liked the goofy sight gags. As an adult, it's all too clear how misbegotten an enterprise this sequel was. [Grade: C]

RECENT WATCHES: An American Werewolf in Paris (1997)

“An American Werewolf in London” told a fairly self-contained story. There was really nowhere else to go after its conclusion, what with the main characters being dead and all that. Yet a script for a sequel to John Landis' 1981 lycanthropy classic had been floating around for several years. John Landis briefly considered Paris as a back-up location for the original, should shooting in London prove difficult. I guess some screenwriter decided to run with that trivia. The 1996 release of “Scream” made horror/comedies, for however brief a moment, a hot commodity. This was, presumably, the trigger needed to get “An American Werewolf in Paris” the green-light.

College students Andy, Brad and Chris are traveling across Europe performing extreme stunts. They decide to bungee-jump off the Eiffel Tower in the middle of the night. While preparing, Andy sees a young woman attempt suicide by leaping from the landmark. He saves her life via bungee intervention, immediately smitten. He tracks the girl, Seraphine, down to her home and somehow convinces her to date him. The three guys soon end up at a night club where a society of Parisian werewolves prey on American tourists. Brad is killed, Chris is captured, and Andy is bitten. Seraphine rescues him and informs that he's now a werewolf. She knows this because Seraphine is also a werewolf, the daughter of a wolfman who visited Europe a decade earlier.

I suspect that “An American Werewolf in Paris” might have been an example of an original screenplay getting latched to an established property, in hopes of improving its commercial potential. The connection to Landis' film is tenuous. Yes, Seraphine is David Kessler and Alex Price's daughter but that information is only briefly mentioned. The werewolves see the ghosts of their victims yet these phantoms rarely affect the plot. In fact, the sequel isn't even consistent with the original's mythology. Apparently, all werewolves can see all apparitions, not just the ones of their own victims. The werewolves here don't resemble the ones from the original that much. There's certainly nothing in the first film to suggest an entire underground organization of werewolves exists. “American Werewolf in London” emphasized the hopelessness of David's situation, with suicide being his only way out. In “Paris,”  eating the heart of the werewolf that cursed you is a cure.

The sequel's lack of connection to the original is even apparent in its soundtrack. The moon-themed oldies are traded out for then-popular alt-rock, always played at deafening volumes. That's because “American Werewolf in Paris” is desperate to appeal to 1997's teenage boys. This is also seen in the sequel's comedic touches. Compared to the original's biting dark gags, the sequel double downs on high-pitched slapstick. Andy runs into walls or beams several times. A truly dumb sequence involves a convoluted series of events that ends with Andy chewing a condom like its bubblegum. Later, he leaps from a window in an exaggerated manner, racing down the street in his underwear. (I guess that's a callback to the original?) None of the jokes generate laughs, only annoyance.

Yet even this is not the biggest insult “An American Werewolf in Paris” makes against the original. How do you follow a classic horror flick that features some of the most impressive practical effects ever put to celluloid? With giant CGI hemorrhoids, of course. Yes, the werewolves here are mostly brought to life with 1997's best computer graphics. Hideously plastic-looking cartoon man-beasts bound around the various scenes. They never seem to be interacting on the same plane of reality with the flesh-and-blood actors. Worst yet, no effort was made to disguise the ugly effects, which are in full light on several occasions. The sequel's attempts at scares are largely ineffective. We get several suspense-free stalking scenes and lots of amber-tinted point-of-view shots. Also, the transformation do not seem to be as painful as they were in the original, as there's little of the cracking bones and painful screams here.

Maybe the biggest problem with the sequel is we simply do not care about any of the characters. While David and Jack were lovable guys, the boys here are horny dude-bros preoccupied with cheap thrills. The film even entertains this fantasy, when Andy uses his new werewolf abilities to get a female American tourist – another obnoxiously exaggerated character – into bed. The extreme stunt element of the script never amounts to much, being forgotten after the first act. The cast is largely awful too. Tom Everett Scott mugs furiously for the camera. In fact, most of the performances here are pitched at cartoonish levels, including those from Julie Bowen and Pierre Cosso. Julie Delphy, as Seraphine, gives a flat performance and seems largely bored. She's admitted she only took this job for the money.

“An American Werewolf in Paris” barely grossed more than its budget at the box office, suggesting there was little demand for a sequel to a totally self-contained film from sixteen years prior. “An American Werewolf in Rome” would not follow. When people discuss the sequel at all, it's usually because of the atrocious effects. Hollywood was really overconfident in CGI's abilities in the late nineties, wasn't it? I have no idea if John Landis or anyone else has seen the sequel, much less what they think of it. (Though considering John sanctioned a thankfully aborted remake from his garbage son, I don't even know if he'd be annoyed by a shitty sequel.) In truth, “An American Werewolf in Paris” is the worst kind of cash-in sequel, made with little understanding of the original and crassly attempting to capitalize on then relevant trends. [3/10]

Director Report Card: John Landis (1996)

15. The Stupids

Nowadays, there's been a movement in children's programming and entertainment away from anything that mocks people for being foolish or dumb. That this is probably not a lesson we should pass along to impressionable kids. Things were different in the sarcastic nineties, where mockery was the main form of vocal currency. There was, in fact, an entire series of children's books devoted to making fun of the exceptionally stupid. Throughout the seventies and eighties, Harry Allard and James Marshall would publish four children's bonks about the Stupids, a family of complete imbeciles. By the mid-nineties, the books were so popular that a film adaptation was made, becoming John Landis' first and last attempt at a family film.

The Stupids are made up of husband Stanley, wife Joan, daughter Petunia, and son Buster. As their last name implies, the entire family is greatly lacking in common sense and intelligence. The story begins when Stanley notices that their garbage disappears every week. He follows the garbage truck to the landfill and unknowingly stumbles upon an army colonel selling illegal weapons to a number of shady customers. Believing him to be a spy, the colonel sends numerous assassins after Stanley, his life being saved each time by his own dumb luck. Petunia and the kids are soon led astray on their own wild goose chase, believing their father has been kidnapped. Completely ignorant of the real conspiracy targeting his family, the Stupids become convinced they are chasing after an ominous mastermind known as Mr. Sender. 

As a comedy, “The Stupids” has pretty much two jokes. The first is that these people are extremely dumb, completely misunderstanding the most simple of concepts and exchanges. Stanley assumes roller skates must be the fastest mode of transportation, because it has more wheels than a bike or car. The kids don't know how a computer works and ends up shoving a photograph into a floppy drive. Common phrases and concepts – garbage day, “return to sender” – are misunderstood as grand conspiracies. And so on. The second joke is that, because the Stupids' stupidity is so grand, people mistake it for genius. The military assumes Stanley's dumbness must be an act, that he's actually a brilliant spy, and the way he survives numerous attempts on his life is a result of his brilliance, not pure luck. As simple as these ideas are, they prove surprisingly versatile. The Stupids misunderstanding everything creates a chain reaction of events, that the film can then hang a number of gags and jokes on.

“The Stupids” even comes off as surprisingly relevant in 2020. Right now, in this most hellish of election cycles, we have a number of politicians who believe in a nonsensical conspiracy theory. It's perpetrated by people on the internet trying to dig up hidden meanings in our president's word salad or any number of common place symbols, that supposedly point to a diabolical and worldwide criminal empire. Is this really anymore ridiculous than Stanley Stupid believing letters marked “Return to Sender” is evident of a nefarious supervillian named Mr. Sender? That some evil force is stealing everyone's garbage once a week, in pursuit of some mysterious but surely sinister goal? The answer is, of course, no, it's not. Conspiracy theorists have always seen incriminating evidence in normal bullshit. It was true in 1996 and it's true in 2020 but, for whatever reason, these people are elected officials now. I just didn't expect a goofy kids movie from twenty years ago to remind me so much of current events.

Most of the comedies John Landis made in the late eighties and nineties didn't really feel in tune with his earlier work. This is, perhaps, because of the lack of anarchic spirit that characterized his classics. Most unexpectedly, “The Stupids” sees a return to this earlier attitude. Despite ostensibly being a kid's flick, the bad guys in “The Stupids” are the U.S. military. An unhinged colonel is selling top secret weapons, because he feels like the government owes him more money. Even though this is only one rogue element of the entire military, none of his men have any problem taking his orders, attempting to murder people. The Stupids are directly opposed by the cops throughout the film too, though mostly due to their own stupidity. Inserting such a blatant anti-authoritarian subtext into a goofy kid's movie makes “The Stupids” even more subversive.

“The Stupids” keeps the gags coming fast and quick, the plot often taking a backseat to whatever bizarre thing the family is getting up to next. The movie's funniest moments tend to be its most digressive, even philosophical. Stanley gets so into his disguise of a bush, that he forms a complex backstory for this bush/man hybrid in real time. While visiting a museum, Stanley and his daughter believe themselves to have died before meeting a janitor named Lloyd, who they mistake for the Lord. This is an excellent example of one of the film's best running gags: The conversation with two meanings. The conversation with Lloyd, hilariously, is referenced throughout the film. While Stanley and Petunia are talking with Lloyd, Joan and Buster believe themselves to have traveled back in time – actually visiting the dinosaur exhibit – and the boy gets a lesson in egomania. The movie's tendency to run off with its own absurd ideas, seen later when the Stupids attempt to conceptualize their own country, is one of its most refreshingly funny touches.

Honestly, I'm impressed that “The Stupids” gets as weird as it does. For no particular reason, the Stupids' pets – a cat named Xylophone and a dog named Kitty – are brought to life via cartoonish stop-motion animation. Naturally, the animals show far more sense than their human family. Grotesque aliens with a nose-picking habit wander in and out of the plot at random intervals. Probably the best moment of cartoony logic occurs when we step inside Stanley's conspiracy theory and see the nefarious Mr. Sender in his lair. Totally committing to the joke, the film gets Christopher Lee to play Sender. Lee, of course, plays the role entirely straight to hilarious effect.

I have no idea if actual kids would find this particular breed of arch silliness appealing, though I suspect some might. “The Stupids” certainly makes sure to include lots of big, loud goofy slapstick too. Exploding Jeeps sail off cliffs, an assassin flies into the air via a burst pile of tires, and soldiers get caught up in ropes. The finale features moments like Stanley dangling from the ceiling on his suspenders or a grenade being casually thrown aside. Probably the most inspired physical gag in the movie is a wonderfully silly bit that just keeps growing, where a bee flies into Stanley's car... A scene that also ends with a giant explosion. It's all executed with a daft hand, never becoming too overbearing, always staying on the right side of silly.

As if there was any confusion about “The Stupids” being a live action cartoon, the movie's fantastic production design is here to make that point even more evident. The costumes are perfectly exaggerated, the Stupids wearing brightly colored outfits that recall fifties nostalgia magnified to a comic book-like level. Their home is similarly decorated in pastel colors and big, bold set pieces. Fittingly, only the Stupids and their surrounding artifacts are so outrageously designed. The rest of the movie looks fairly normal, visually suggesting how out-of-place and bizarre the titular family is.

Much of the backlash concerning “The Stupids” revolved around its leading man. Tom Arnold, a hacky stand-up on the best of days, was at his most overexposed in 1996.  This is one of three films he would star in that year. For all his debatable talent, Arnold is at least well utilized here. As Stanley Stupid, he always seems to totally believe in whatever nonsensical thing the character is expounding. Never has Arnold's big cheesy smile been better used than here. The rest of the cast playing the Stupid are seemingly ideally cast. Jessica Lundy is frequently hilarious as Joan, making it clear that the character believes all of this completely. Even the kids are pretty good, Alex McKenna and Bug Hall both seeming to have the correct, absurd bead on the material.

The family is backed-up by a pretty decent supporting cast, all of which playing the straight men to the Stupids' idiotic antics. Mark Metcalf returns from “Animal House,” his villainous colonel even having the last name of Neidermeyer. He honed his military asshole routine in the twenty years since “Animal House,” enjoying his own wickedness even more than last time. A baby-faced Mark Keeslar appears at Neidermeyer's somewhat naive sidekick, Keesler's nicely keeping a straight face. Frank Faison is also extremely funny as Lloyd, maintaining a perfect deadpan no matter how silly the conversation gets. Bob Keeshan – Captain Kangaroo himself! – is similarly excellently used as the real Mr. Sender, a far less sinister presence than what Stanley imagines.

You probably wouldn't expect John Landis to squeeze in many of his trademarks into a goofy kid's flick. As I said above, Landis actually seemed way more invested in this than he was in his last few films. He sprinkles the film with cameos from his director friends. See if you can spot Mick Garris, Robert Wise, Norman Jewison, Atom Egoyan, and Costa-Gavras. David Cronenberg is probably the most notable one, as Stanley's none-to-amused boss at the post office. “See You Next Window” can be briefly glimpsed on the back of the bus. Landis even includes some of that tonally out-of-place violence, especially in the last act. Which definitely shouldn't work but just adds to the cartoonish atmosphere.

“The Stupids” was a considerable flop, both critically and commercially, in 1996. The public-at-large's growing intolerance towards Tom Arnold only deserves some of the blame. The film was advertised badly, pitched to audiences as an explosion-filled action/comedy when it's obviously meant for a younger audience. A performance of “I'm My Own Grandpa” – not the movie's best joke – and a cameo from Jenny McCarthy were weirdly highlighted in the trailers and commercials. Knowing its reputation, I was surprised to find I kind of loved “The Stupids.” It's consistently hilarious, packing each scene with delightfully silly gags and never misses a chance to exploit its easily understood but limitlessly exploited premise. If you have a taste for the very silly, have some faith in Lloyd and give it a chance yourself. [Grade: B+]

Director Report Card: John Landis (1994)

14. Beverley Hills Cop III

After starring in “Beverly Hills Cop II,” Eddie Murphy said that the concept was completely played out and, if he did a third film, it would only be for the money. Despite that assurance, the studio was determined to make another Axel Foley adventure, spending a considerable amount of the budget on various scripts before a director was even found. Even with their acrimonious relationship while making “Coming to America,” Murphy must have liked something about working with John Landis. Once again, he vouched for the guy and put him behind the camera. When “Beverly Hills Cop III” was belatedly released in theaters in 1994, Murphy's assertion that he was only in it for the money could not have been more apparent. It was another flop for Landis and Murphy, who were both experiencing downturns in their career at the time.

It's the early nineties but Axel Foley is still working as a cop in Detroit. During what should have been a standard stake-out, his boss Inspector Todd is killed by mysterious smugglers. Foley is determined to fulfill Todd's dying wish that he catches the perps. He follows the case to – where else? – Beverly Hills, California. There, he discovers the bad guys are running a counterfeiting operation out of Wonder World, a family friendly amusement park. As in past adventures, Foley teams up with the nerdy Officer Rosebloom, butts heads with the authorities, gets in lot of trouble, but somehow manages to undercover the real crooks.

The “Beverly Hills Cop” films have never been distinguished by their originality. The first one was influenced by any number of renegade cop flicks. In part one, Axel went to Beverly Hills to avenge a dead friend. In part two, he went back to Beverly Hills after an officer he befriended last time was nearly killed. Now, on the third go-around, he's on yet another mission of revenge at the behest of another fallen pal/fellow cop. This guy goes through acquaintances with almost as much frequency as Charles Bronson. Also as in the last two adventures, Foley's reasoning for going to California are ultimately unimportant. It's just another excuse to get him involved in a standard criminal plot and be a fish-out-of-water on the west coast. (Though you'd think he would be pretty familiar with Beverly Hills by this point.)

As I said, Paramount Pictures and Jerry Bruckheimer – who would eventually exit the project – spent a lot of time and money on various scripts for “Beverly Hills Cop III” before finding a premise everyone could agree on. These included several concepts that would've sent Axel to London, seemingly negating the “Beverly Hills” part of the title. Eventually, Steven E. de Souza – co-writer of some of the greatest action hits of the eighties – would pen the chosen script... And it's basically “Die Hard at Disney World,” Foley spending a lot of the movie as the sole good cop in an amusement park full of baddies. Yet even that premise is not as well utilized as you'd think. The sequel never attempts to subvert the cheeriness of its setting, in contrast with bloody action theatrics. The Walt Disney stand-in, called Uncle Dave, is never depicted as anything but a wholesome figure. You'd think John Landis, famous for sticking it to snobs in his films, would've found something more to do with this idea.

“Beverly Hills Cop III” came at kind of a weird point in Eddie Murphy's career. After becoming the biggest stand-up in the world and a hugely successful movie star in the eighties, Eddie was suffering something of a midlife crisis. He tried directing with “Harlem Nights” and it didn't work.  The previous year, he recorded a socially conscious R&B album that flopped. After this film, he would star in “Vampire in Brooklyn” and “Metro,” both of which were more violent and less comedic than his earlier movies. It seems Murphy was very determined to be taken seriously as an artist. According to John Landis, he was actively trying not to be funny in “Beverly Hills Cop III.” Axel is more pissed-off here, physically attacking way more guys. Not once does Axel attempt to con his way in to some establish club here, the trademark of the series. Murphy cracks fewer jokes and one-liners. He seems very listless, even timid.

Murphy and Landis both agreed that the script for “Beverly Hills Cop III” sucked. John hoped his leading man could make it funny but, when Murphy decided Axel couldn't crack jokes anymore, it left the director with few other options. So you can see “Beverly Hills Cop III” desperately attempting to insert comedy whenever it can. The humor frequently feels wildly out-of-place. A reappearance from Bronson Pinchot's camp gay Serge goes on far too long. He introduces a farcical machine gun into the story, which seems like something better suited to a Z.A.Z. spoof. Moments where Wonder World costumed performers cover kids' eyes or Murphy has to dance on-stage with the cartoon characters feel like sweaty attempts to wring some humor out of the situation. And sweatiness is not something you want audiences to pick up on when you're trying to make a comedy.

Because the sequel had gone so far over-budget before filming even began, the action sequences were cut way down for “Beverly Hills Cop III.” This led to more of a focus on the detective elements. This is a problem though. Axel Foley isn't Sherlock Holmes. His smart-ass ability to sneak into situations was his greatest strength but, as I said, Murphy was determined to downplay that. So, instead of sleuthing, he just badgers witnesses and then punches them. This really does little besides emphasize Murphy's sudden desire to be taken seriously as a tough guy. Murphy doesn't have the physical prowess of Wesley Snipes or the intensity of Denzel Washington. Stripped of his smart-ass wit, he just comes off as a bully.

John Landis isn't exactly an experienced action director either. An early car chase sequence operates fairly well, perhaps because of Landis' “Blues Brothers” experience. However, many of the other action scenes have the same weirdly mean-spirited quality we saw in “Into the Night.” During the climax, there's far too much focus on people being hurt while getting gunned down. Many of the film's other attempts to incorporate the action element into the theme park come off as inept. A scene devoted to Foley rescuing two kids from a malfunctioning Ferris Wheel ride is so incredibly awkwardly framed. Never once do you believe Murphy, who seems totally bored in this moment, is actually dangling hundreds of feet above concrete.

The best moments in “Beverly Hills Cop III” tend to utilize the theme park setting in a more direct way. During the last act, Axel is led through a chase through Wonder World at night, pursued by a limitless supply of goons. A few times, he actually utilizes the park attractions to help himself out. Such as when an alien invasion show – obviously the “Earthquake!” ride at Universal Studios with some “Battlestar Galactia” Cylons wandering around it – ends up helping him crush a few guys. An even more extended foot chase takes place through a dinosaur-themed dark ride – actually “Kingdom of the Dinosaurs” at Knott's Berry Farm – is probably my favorite sequence in the film. If only because the contrast of a kiddie ride with cop movie violence is interesting, the silently moving attractions provide some mildly spooky ambiance, and that I like kitschy dinosaur attractions like that.

“Beverly Hills Cop III” was obviously John Landis operating in work-for-hire mode. However, you can see him trying to insert a few of his trademark into the otherwise desperate material. Yes, he includes many of his director or film culture friends in bit parts. Watch out for cameos from Joe Dante, Ray Harryhausen, Forest Ackerman, Al Green, Peter Medak, Arthur Hiller, and John Singleton. Most amusingly, George Lucas appears as a disgruntled park-goer. What makes this most feel like a Landis movie is the numerous call-outs to classic animation in the park setting. The director even got the Sherman Brothers to write an “It's a Small World After All” style song.

Another indication that “Beverly Hills Cop III” is a truly unnecessary continuation of the series is the lack of appearances from established favorites of the series. Of Foley's usual supporting cast, only Judge Reinhold returns as Sgt. Rosewood. While Reinhold does his best to get some goofy physical comedy out of the part, he's also saddled with some of the film's worst gags. Otherwise, it's all new faces. Most obviously, Hector Elizondo is awkwardly inserted as a replacement for John Ashton's Sgt. Taggart, whose absence is explained by saying he retired. Ronny Cox's Chief Bogomil, so important to part two's plot, doesn't even get that much. Both characters were included in earlier drafts but the actors had to pass after pre-production dragged on. (And also because the script sucked.) This lack of trademark characters makes part three feel disconnected from the other films, which is further emphasized by the lack of Harold Faltermeyer's trademark theme. Instead, we are greeted to a trip-hop version of “Axel F.,” presumably because it was 1994.

As for the new additions, few make much of an impression. Theresa Randle appears as a love interest for Foley. The two characters have almost no connection and her romantic attraction to him is inexplicable. Timothy Carhart plays the film primary villain, a smarmy weasel that continues the series' tradition of weak and forgettable antagonists. Slightly better is John Saxon, as the scheming head of Wonder World, if only because the late, great Mr. Saxon could bring dignity and depth to any role. Stephen McHattie – about twenty years younger than I'm used to seeing him but immediately recognizable nevertheless – also shows up as a Secret Service agent, being one of the better foils Axel has in this film.

The stink of failure is all over “Beverly Hills Cop III” and audiences could smell it. Despite the first two being widely beloved, the third entry failed to outgross its budget. (At the domestic box office anyway. It did slightly better overseas.) Critics were merciless. Murphy himself has been all too open about bashing the movie over the years, somewhat hypocritically since it sounds like he played a big role in its creative failure. The sequel was so bad that it actually made Murphy want to return to the role of Axel Foley, to give him a proper send-off. “Beverly Hills Cop IV” has been in-and-out of development for two decades now. It mutated into a TV show before changing back into a movie. Even though I see no demand for it, the Netflix sequel was actually just about ready to start production before the pandemic shut everything down. Until then, this abject failure of a continuation is the final appearance of Eddie Murphy's most iconic character. ”Beverly Hills Cop III” suffers deeply from a disinterested leading man, a bland script, and a listless execution. [Grade: D]