Director Report Card: Michael Lehmann (1998)

6. My Giant

It might be impossible to imagine this now but, once upon a time, Billy Crystal was an actual box office draw. Here in 2022, Crystal's shtick is so stale that he seems like a relic of another era. And yet, for many years, Crystal was a popular comedian, propelled on the backs of cultural forces like “Saturday Night Live” and “Soap.” As the nineties started, he had two of the biggest hits of his careers, with “When Harry Met Sally” and “City Slickers.”  Even though Crystal had some box office disappointments throughout the decade, like “Mr. Saturday Night” and “Fathers' Day,” the star still had enough pull in 1998 to get a project greenlit. 

“My Giant” was, in fact, a passion project for Crystal. The movie was inspired by the friendship Crystal forged with Andre the Giant while filming “The Princess Bride.” He co-wrote the story with David Seltzer. In a bizarre turn of events, Crystal originally wanted to play the titular giant before being talked into being the shorter co-star. Michael Lehmann chose the film as the follow-up to “The Truth About Cats & Dogs” (and two more episodes of “The Larry Sanders Show”) for reasons I can only speculate on. Directing a movie with a beloved comedy icon and proven hit-maker probably seemed like a good idea to the director, following his first actual box office success. Alas, “My Giant” would not be as sure a shot as it seemed. Let's dissect this further.

Sammy Kamin is a sleazy talent agent. His wife is getting ready to divorce him, his son resents him, and the promising young actor he represents has just fired him. Lost in the Romanian countryside, he crashes his car. A massive pair of hands pulls Sammy from the wreckage and he awakens in a monastery. There, he meets his savior: A nearly eight foot tall man named Max. Impressed by the gentle giant, Sammy immediately tries to get him cast in the historical epic filming near-by. All Max wants is to be reunited with his childhood crush but Sam convinces him to try acting. Sam soon has Max traveling to America, to pursue performing, equally growing fond of and exploiting his new friend.

Probably the most interesting question “My Giant” grapples with is the same one that has always surrounded people born with extraordinary differences. When Sammy meets Max, he's blown away by his physical appearance and charming personality. He gives Max a path to see the world, to leave his home and become famous. At the same time, Sammy is using Max's unusual appearance as a way to make money. This comes to a head in the sequence where Max does a one-night stint as a pro-wrestler, where he's humiliated and mocked for his appearance. Considering the movie is inspired by Andre the Giant, one assumes this is Billy Crystal's opinion on how the pro-wrestling industry treated his friend. At least “My Giant” is self-aware enough to depict its protagonist as equally in awe of and exploiting his friend.

That's about the only really interesting thing “My Giant” does. Crystal might have set out to make a homage to his deceased friend – the film is dedicated to Andre's memory – but the film is ultimately not about its giant so much. Instead, “My Giant” occupies itself with Sammy Kamin's completely predictable character arc. He begins the movie as a complete heel. (And not the pro-wrestler kind.) He's obsessed with his career, neglecting his family. He uses Max's naivety as a way to further his own career. It's only after he becomes friends with the guy, and after he realizes Max is living on borrowed time, that he starts to behave responsibly. This is the standard story of a self-centered jerk defrosting and finding his heart again. 

Yet, as many ethically dubious things as Sammy does, “My Giant” is too chicken-shit to actually make him a proper scoundrel. Like all dads in a nineties family comedy, he's on the verge of divorce from his wife. He's never there for his son, who doesn't respect him. Naturally, both of these very relatable plot points are resolved in as sappy a way as possible. Because isn't a film about an eight foot tall man ultimately the story of a mediocre middle-age white guy about to leave his wife? One of “My Giant's” many failings is that it wants us to like Sammy too much, building much of the movie around his unremarkable plotline. Instead of running with the parts of its script that are actually interesting. 

That's because, no matter how much “My Giant” pretends it's about Max, this is ultimately Billy Crystal's project. The film begins and ends with him delivering pithy voice-overs, directly to the audience. He gets to throw lots of easy one-liners around, especially when faced with the monastery or Max for the first time. And, sure, one or two of these lines are worth a laugh. Yet it feels like Andre the Giant's extraordinary life probably could have inspired a pretty good film, if it actually focused on the giant. Instead, Crystal's ego prevails here. This is presumably why any director trademarks of Michael Lehmann are completely impossible to spot here. Crystal might as well have directed “My Giant” himself. 

Andre the Giant's unique screen presence could not easily be replicated, for many reasons. To fill the titular role, “My Giant” went similarly outside the acting world. Romanian basketball player Gheorghe Mureșan, who really is seven feet seven inches tall, was recruited to play Max. Mureșan is not an actor. His line delivery is frequently stiff and awkward, further hindered by his thick accent. And yet there is something to be said for his performance here. The guy does have an easy-going, goofy charm. He seems genuinely delighted to be in a movie. He has decent chemistry with Crystal. The few times “My Giant's” emotional elements work is strictly because Mureșan brings a certain pathos to the role, largely owing to the fact that he really does know what life is like when you are especially tall.

Whatever comedic value “My Giant” has is also owed to Gheorghe Mureșan. The big kid enthusiasm he has enlivens a handful of scenes, such as when he squeezes into a tiny car or pretends to be an established movie star. Otherwise, the humor in the film rarely elicits laughter. Lots of Crystal's one-liners are hammy. There's several moments of broad slapstick that simply feel out-of-place. During Max's first day of acting, he gets drunk to ease his nerves. This climaxes when he unleashes a geyser of on-screen vomit. (One bottle of wine achieves this when, in real life, Andre the Giant could effortlessly consume massive amounts of alcohol.)  There's also some misplaced burp and fart jokes. Probably the comedic low point of “My Giant” comes early on, when there's a reaction shot form a stunned sheep. 

These moments of low-brow humor stick out even worst as the movie goes on and develops an unsightly sentimental streak. Once the story turns towards the revelation that Max only has so much time left, the film gets increasingly goopy in its emotions. There's more focus on reuniting him with his childhood crush, as well as Sam's dissolving marriage. The two storylines meet in a scene that might've been sweet in a different movie but comes off as utterly mawkish here. It's always a tricky tonal balancing act when a goofy comedy suddenly decides to get heartfelt in its last act. “My Giant” absolutely does not have the skills to pull that off. The big emotions the final scene tries to summon are in no way earned by the movie that proceeded it.

About the only pleasure “My Giant” really gives me is its strangest subplot. Sammy's estranged son is a big fan of Steven Seagal. The plot hinges around Sammy getting onto the Las Vegas set of Seagal's new movie. He convinces the producers to rewrite the script on the spot so that a Shakespeare quoting, heavily-accented giant is the villain. This strains belief but not as much as Steven Seagal being considered a major star in 1998. That was the same year Seagal made his first direct-to-video film, after increasingly diminished returns in theaters. Only a few years later, Seagal would totally disappear from multiplexes, rarely allowed to return ever again. Considering Seagal's raging ego, I can only imagine what hoops he made Lehmann leap through. Seeing Seagal try and act like a normal human being, much less deliver humorous dialogue during a phone call with Sammy's son, is far more surreal and entertaining than anything else in “My Giant.” One really can't help but assume that the film was written with another action hero in mind and Seagal was the first one that said yes. 

Aside from Vladimir Putin's favorite aikido instructor and his ropy attempts at comedy, there are a few other familiar faces in “My Giant.” In fact, the movie features some surprise appearances nearly as unexpected as Seagal. Dan Castellaneta – Homer Simpson himself – has a bit part as a production assistant. He's immediately recognizable to people who know what voice actors look like. Verne Troyer, a year before he became Mini-Me, has an even bitter part as one of the wrestlers Max grapples with. Sammy's extended family, during an embarrassing scene where Max joins him at dinner, includes Doris Roberts and Estelle Harris. Both play extremely Doris Roberts and Estelle Harris-like parts. Of the supporting cast, only Kathleen Quinlan as Sammy's wife gives a genuinely sweet performance. She's the primary reason a key moment in the last act is kind of cute, as opposed to totally stiff.

Unsurprisingly, “My Giant” was another box office flop for its director. It only made 8 million against a 20 million dollar budget. I can't imagine a premise this gimmicky, especially when attached to a star as hammy as Crystal, attracted audiences much. The reviews were even more unkind than the grosses. Critics largely trashed the film, with most agreeing that its sentimentality did not blend well with its broad comedic instincts. I actually like the movie a little more than that but agree it's a misfire. Crystal's career would snap back the next year, with the equally gimmicky but far funnier “Analyze This.” Gheorghe Mureșan, on the other hand, would stick to basketball and never attempt acting again. Who could blame him, as “My Giant” was an instantly forgotten piece of nineties pop culture debris. [Grade: C]

Director Report Card: Robert Rodriguez (2010)

15. Machete
Co-directed with Ethan Maniquis

From the moment fans first got a taste of “Grindhouse,” they immediately started hoping the fake trailers would be turned into actual movies. Robert Rodriguez obviously shared this desire. The “Machete” fake trailer has an origin story of its own. Upon meeting Danny Trejo back in the nineties, Rodriguez immediately imagined him as the Charles Bronson-like star of a long-running series of “Mexploitation” movies. (Considering how lucrative blaxploitation proved for a while, it is surprising there hadn’t been many prior attempts to similarly capitalize on the Latino audience.) The “Grindhouse” trailer pushed that long simmering idea too close to reality for Rodriguez and Trejo to resist anymore. An actual feature length “Machete” movie would slice onto theater screens in 2010.

Machete Cortez was a Mexican Federale agent. While attempting to take down drug kingpin Torrez, he is betrayed. His wife, daughter, and partner are killed and he’s left for dead. Three years later, he’s crossed the border and is working in Texas as a day laborer. This is were he’s chosen by Michael Booth, who pays him to assassinate anti-immigration Senator John McLaughlin. This is also a set-up, the assassination planned to fail in order to boost McLaughlin’s plummeting approval ratings. On the run from Booth’s, Machete teams up with Agent Rivera, a sympathetic ICE agent, and uncovers an attempt by the drug trade to manipulate border issues for profit.

Robert Rodriguez is not the only director credited on “Machete.” His frequent editor/assistant editor Ethan Manipuis is co-director. (This is, thus far, Manipuis only directorial credit.) Despite that, it’s hard to see another authorial voice at work in “Machete.” At the time, some critics derided “Machete” as Rodriguez totally abandoning the glints of genius seen in “El Mariachi” and “Sin City” and giving into his most juvenile instincts. This is, after all, a movie where a naked woman removes a cell phone from her vagina within the first ten minutes. It’s a film devoted entirely to absurd violence and adolescent titillation. While Rodriguez may very well be wasting his potential with projects like this, I think he’s making exactly the kind of films he wants to make.

The director’s most obvious goal with “Machete” was to make an ideal vehicle for Danny Trejo. I’d say he definitely succeeded in that regard. Trejo doesn’t speak much throughout “Machete.” What dialogue he does have is gruffly delivered, quick one-liners or little bits of information. Mostly, Trejo’s unforgettable face and physicality does the talking. He glares and growls while killing the bad guys, as much pit bull as man. While Trejo is an actor of considerable charm, there’s no doubt that he knows how to make this kind of tough guy part compelling. Being a Bond-like figure of male fan fantasy, Machete is also irresistible to women. The movie even makes that believable, as Trejo’s forceful toughness is certainly rugged and interesting.

Despite obviously being intended as a down-and-dirty exploitation homage, Rodriguez also hoped to squeeze some social commentary into “Machete.” A lot of which comes off as shockingly relevant here in 2019. The primary antagonists of “Machete” is a politician and his team who wants to build a barrier between America and Mexico. Who uses xenophobic and heated language, targeted at illegal immigrants. Who, at the same time, employs numerous illegal immigrants on his property. Rodriguez goes one step further, making these racist policies aligned directly with Mexican drug cartels. All the talk of border control is actually a scheme to make a select few – racist old white guys and criminals – even more rich and powerful than before. It's scarily on-points for our current world, even if Rodriguez has a heroic ICE agent as a primary character.

Yet “Machete” also has the director indulging in a bad habit he's had trouble breaking since at least “Once Upon a Time in Mexico.” Despite being a throwback to simple, down-and-dirty exploitation flicks, “Machete” has a seriously overstuffed plot. The film has about five plot lines, all of them intertwining to varying degrees. There's Machete's quest of vengeance against Torrez. There's the story of ICE Agent Sartana and her attempt to get to the bottom of things. We learn about Senator McLaughlin's involvement with a group of border patrolling vigilantes, which backfires on him. Also in there is Luz and the legendary She, leader of a network that helps illegals cross the border. We're not done yet, as Rodriguez also includes a subplot about Booth and his daughter, who is attempting to launch an internet porn career. The writer/director even includes a tiny subplot about a pair of dishwashers in a Mexican restaurant. That's a lot to keep track of and seems at odds, sometimes, with the modest goals “Machete” sets for itself.

And, sometimes, in his quest to get so much story on screen, Rodriguez just straight-up forgets about stuff. Despite ostensibly being his main motivation, the loss of Machete's wife and daughter never seems to affect him much. When he finally faces down Torrez again, there seems to be little personal about their conflict. This is not the only family Machete looses in the course of the story. His brother, now a priest, is tortured and killed by Booth and another assassin he hires, Osiris Amanpour. Machete comes after Booth but Osiris weirdly escapes his wrath, disappearing from the film abruptly after that point. (We know the real reason this happens: Rodriguez thought Tom Savini was having so much fun in the part, that he decided to keep Osiris around for the sequel. But, within the film, it definitely seems like a major scene or two was hastily cut.)

Then again, maybe I'm overthinking it. Rodriguez orchestrates this convoluted plot mostly so he can create a series of ridiculous action scenes, that escalate in gore and insanity. A lot of this stuff is really fun. The movie starts with a triple decapitation and goes from there. Though his titular weapon is his favorite, Trejo uses items as diverse as weed whackers, hedge clippers, broken glass, and a meat thermometer to off his opponents. (The last of which pays off in an especially amusing way.) Probably my favorite moment involves Machete slicing open a goon, yanking out his intestines, and swinging out of a building with it. That is, admittedly, the kind of thing I've always wanted to see in an action movie.

Like many of Rodriguez' action flicks, “Machete” is basically a love action cartoon. It gets more ridiculous as it goes on. After aligning himself with Luz' Network, Machete and his team embark on all-out war with the bad guys. At that point, Rodriguez begins to push things perhaps too far. Trejo wields a giant sized machete, Michelle Rodriguez firing a gun of Rob Liefeld-ian proportions. Low riders trick out with crazy hydraulics shoot rockets out of their motors and crush people after leaping into the air. It doesn't help matters that “Machete” is full of CGI blood, making the action scenes feel even more unrealistic and exaggerated.

After two decades of making fast-paced action movies, you can sometimes feel like Robert Rodriguez is starting to loose interest a little. Some of the big action scenes mentioned above are shot in a very straight-forward, not-so-flashy way. The final sword fight between Machete and Torrez is shockingly direct. The most interestingly directed moments tend to be a little more small-scale. Cheech Marin's shoot-out with a group of bad guys recalls some of that John Woo-esque operatic quality, what with people shooting and ducking around a church. A really cool scene has Jessica Alba fighting a luchador mask wearing assassin in her home, weaponizing her shoes. Some flashy split-screen shots are employed here and they are fun. Granted, it's entirely possible the less impressive action could be the work of Maniquis or vice versa. It's hard to say.

You can split “Machete's” large supporting cast – primarily made up of notable Latino talent and established cult icons – into its heroes and villains. Rodriguez re-teams with Jessica Alba after “Sin City.” Alba seems more comfortable in this part and, while she's still not totally convincing as a tough action heroine, her interactions with Trejo are cute. Michelle Rodriguez, meanwhile, is very at ease with being a bad ass. She brings conviction to the part of Luz, someone who genuinely wants to help people, before getting transformed into a cartoonish action star. Cheech Marin has fun as a less-than-virtuous priest. For the first time in their many collaborations, Rodriguez has Cheech reference his pot-smoking comedy days, in a gag that's a little too on the nose. He also brings “Spy Kids'” Daryl Sabara back for a brief part, as an exaggerated cholo mechanic.

There's some serious wattage among “Machete's” bad guys. Some might think Hollywood royalty like Robert DeNiro is above an exploitation throwback like this. Yet compared to many of DeNiro's humiliating latter day credits, the scumbag vigor he brings to Senator McLaughlin is pretty good. Don Johnson, amusingly, gets an “introducing” credit as the leader of the vigilantes, exuding a greasiness as the film's hateful character. Jeff Fahey wrings both comedy and a certain coolness out of Booth. Lindsay Lohan, in a clear case of stunt casting, plays his philandering daughter. The character contributes little to the film and Lohan's acting is broad and unconvincing.

Then there's Steven Seagal as Torrez. This was Seagal's first theatrically released film in eight years, a brief respite from his perpetual status as a regular in direct-to-video cheapies. The bloated and increasingly leathery Seagal is a weird choice for an intimidating Mexican drug lord. Aside from his differing race, Seagal naturally brings an affection for samurai swords and martial arts to the character. Presumably, he was cast more for the cool factor, of getting another action icon (no matter how dubious) into the film. Seagal, for what its worth, at least brings a sleazy slither to the part, Torrez being very self-assured in his power. The performer's notorious egotism is on-display. It's rumored that Seagal has it in his contract that his characters can never be killed by someone and, if they must die, Seagal has to do it himself. “Machete” gets around this by having the hero fatally wound Torrez and letting the villain finish himself off. Which is hilarious if you know the back story but rather anticlimactic if you don't.

Despite some serious flaws, “Machete” is an entertaining film. It also reached a largely untapped audience. I worked at a video store in 2010 and can recall several Hispanic people asking when the movie would be coming out on DVD. That same audience would turn out at the theaters, pushing “Machete” to gross four times its modest 10 million dollar budget. Danny Trejo was already a cult favorite before but “Machete’s” success would cause Rodriguez’ vision to come true. Aside from a sequel to “Machete,” Trejo has gone on to star in dozens of low budget action/thriller films. They have fittingly Bronson-esque titles like “Vengeance,” “The Contractor,” or “Bullet.” (A few, like “Bad Ass” and “Dead in Tombstone,” got sequels of their own.) It’s not quite a full-blown “Mexploitation” movement but it’s pretty neat nevertheless. [Grade: B]