Director Report Card: Tony Scott (1996)

9. The Fan

In 1995, Peter Abraham – a moderately popular and successful suspense author – would publish “The Fan.” The book must've been well received and popular, as the film rights were immediately gobbled up. The producers offered the job to Tony Scott twice and he turned them down both times. The third time they asked him to direct, it was with the added bonus that Robert De Niro was now attached to star. Eager to work with De Niro, Scott would finally agree to direct the movie. How many mediocre movies have been willed into existence just because someone wanted to work with Robert De Niro? Regardless, “The Fan” would be pitched into theaters less than a year after the book was first published. 

Gil Renard is unhappy. The knife company that his father founded, where he works as a lowly salesman, is threatening to oust him. His ex-wife has remarried and is increasingly regulating his time with their son. The only thing giving Gil any joy is his love of the San Francisco Giants. Gil is obsessed with baseball. Specifically, he's obsessed with Bobby Rayburn, a hot shot slugger who recently signed a 40 million dollar contract with the Giants. After abandoning his son at a baseball game to attend a work meeting, Gil's wife signs a restraining order. He gets fired. Worst yet, Rayburn's ball game begins to suffer and he is soon eclipsed by a rival player with the same jersey number. It's not much longer before Gil's obsession turns deadly. Before the love he feels for his favorite ball player turns into an all-consuming hatred. 

As you can tell by the fact that there's at least two other thrillers with the exact same title, writers are fascinated by the relationship celebrities have with their fans. The parasocial bonds between the admired and the admirers is a rich source for storytelling. “The Fan” attempts to show how Gil, a sad and isolated man who is loosing control of his life, could latch onto this one particular idol. He doesn't really know Rayburn and has no connection to the man's personality. Instead, he's obsessed with Rayburn because of what he represents to him. Gil sees Rayburn as someone who rose up from nothing to achieve great fame and success in a game he loves. That's the story Gil wanted for himself. Since he can't live that life, obsessing over Bobby is the next best thing.

Sadly, that's about as far as “The Fan” goes into exploring obsessive fandom. (A far better exploration of the same topic is the 2009 film “Big Fan.”) Instead, the movie is more compelling as an examination of a toxic dude whose constructed identity is collapsing around him. He can't be a father to his son, because his wife divorced him. He can't be a successful knife salesman, because he got fired. His love of baseball – and also the Rolling Stones but that's not as important – are the only two remaining facets of himself that he has left. This is why he's so insulted when he perceives an off-handed comment from Bobby as an insult to all fans. Being a fan of baseball, and of Ryback specifically, is a foundation of Gil's image of himself. When that is insulted, he's insulted. And because he's an extremely toxic wannabe tough guy, he has to respond to that insult with violence. He has to force this person – someone that he used to admire so much – to see things his way. Or else he might as well not exist anymore.

In our modern world, where the corrosive effect of toxic fandom is really being felt all over the pop culture sphere, observations like this are well understood. But obsessive sports fandom is a bit different from, say, obsessive “Star Wars” fans. Gil really wants his son to be interested in baseball, even though it's apparent the kid doesn't care about it that much. At his little league game, Gil goes off on the coach for not treating his son fairly. Later, we learn that Gil was in little league himself. That he still carries resentment from stuff that happened to him back then, even though he's in his fifties now. It's a stereotype that some dads force their kids into sports in order to live vicariously through their children's success. And, yeah, there's some truth to this stereotype. But “The Fan” seems to think that this observation is witty and clever enough on its own, without really digging into it too much. Frankly, the film probably should've explored Gil's relationship with his own dad if it was going to go down this path. 

Ultimately, that's the real reason “The Fan” doesn't really work. I have a certain fondness for the violent loner subgenre. The best examples of that story type are successful because they really put you in the mindset of an obsessed, lonely, broken person driven to violent acts by whatever reason. In “The Fan,” we never get much of a sense of Gil's inner life. We get brief glimpses of his home, which is decorated with Giants memorabilia, knives, and Rolling Stone posters. He's so obviously crazy, from the first scene where calls in to a radio sports show to rant on the air, that it's hard to believe he's a real person. There's not much depth to Gil's obsession or the twisted, broken mind that birthed it. Stories like this work because you feel an equal degree of sympathy and fear towards the obsessive weirdos. Gil is such an obvious creep from the get-go, that you can't get that invested.

In fact, “The Fan” is so eager to show how unhinged its villain protagonist is that it quickly veers towards over-the-top camp. Gil is threatening unresponsive customers with a knife mere minutes into the film. One ridiculous scene has him tossing a knife at a cockroach on his apartment wall, frightening a near-by rabbi in the process. The second half includes such ridiculous images as Robert De Niro chasing someone while wearing a too-tight baseball uniform or trying to explain to a ten-year-old who Mick Jagger is. For some reason, the movie decides midway through to play snippets from a remix of Nine Inch Nails' “Closer” every time it wants us to know how creepy Gil is being. The movie veers towards full-blown trashiness once we get to the image of a flayed piece of skin duct-taped to a door. 

In fact, there's a part of me that suspects camp was the intended goal here. You can certainly see this in Tony Scott's visual trademarks, which are beginning to approach the point of self-parody. Many of “The Fan's” scenes seem to be set at sundown or sunrise, the San Francisco skyline frequently being cast against the glowing amber clouds. The night scenes are set in the same sort of steamy back allies or colorful interior locations that are, by now, common sights in Scott's films. The longer the film goes on, the more helicopter shots of the city it starts to include. The editing gets increasingly frantic, during the first murder sequence or a scene devoted to Gil rescuing Bobby's son from drowning. The director's style is beginning to be stretched pass its breaking point here.

Truthfully, this might not be a bad thing. The more “The Fan” leans into its campy atmosphere, the more entertaining it becomes. The film gets increasingly lurid in its final act. Gil kidnaps Bobby's son and tells him that he'll kill the boy unless he hits a home run and dedicates it to him. The film attempts to stretch the suspense of this climatic baseball game out as long as possible, by repeatedly delaying the final pitch with sudden bursts of rain. This leads to a big confrontation on the baseball diamond, the movie growing increasingly overwrought. The last few acts of violence are so melodramatic that you just have to smile a little bit. I'm not sure if “The Fan” was trying to be overheated and trashy but the movie is still at its most amusing when heading in that direction. 

For Robert De Niro, the part of Gil Renard is a return to familiar territory. A fanatical loner who slowly grows more dangerous recalls “Taxi Driver” and “The King of Comedy,” some of his most famous parts. “The Fan” obviously does not have the nuance of those films. As he too often does when presented with material lacking depth, De Niro decides to simply ham it up instead. As I said, there's no doubt that Gil is a nut case from the opening scene and De Niro plays that one note hard. De Niro spends most of the movie making pissed-off faces, angrily yelling at people, or delivering silly dialogue in as loud a voice as possible. It's certainly entertaining watching one of the screen's most respected performers distract all actorly tact like this. Though it's also a little embarrassing, which is most evident during the movie's opening credits where De Niro reads a painfully bad poem about being a fan.

As a character and a performance, De Niro's Gil is most effective when paired with less outrageous people. The only time “The Fan” veers towards actual suspense is when Gil ingratiates himself to Bobby Ryback long enough to get into his home. Watching the ball player go from appreciating this stranger to slowly realizing he's unhinged is effective. That's largely thanks to Wesley Snipes, who gives a genuinely good performance. Snipes plays a batter who has a lot of pressure on him. Whether that's living up to a massively expensive contract or the wishes of a dying child fan, he's overwhelmed by expectations. That only makes it worst when he screws up and the fans turn on him. Snipes takes the overheated material seriously, managing to create an interesting character at a crisis point in his own life, trying to find peace between his professional obligations and his family life. A low-key drama about this same subject probably would've been more rewarding than “The Fan.”

If the lead role feels underwritten, there was no hope that the supporting parts in “The Fan” would have any depth to them. In order to compensate, the movie slots a number of familiar faces into these roles. John Leguizamo, re-appearing from “Revenge,” shows up as Bobby's agent. Leguizamo brings some soft sarcasm and amusing color to a nothing part. An incredibly overqualified Ellen Barkin shows up as a sports talk-radio host, adding far more energy and humor than was necessary to an unimportant role. Barkin is so delightfully bitchy that the movie makes repeated excuses to include her in scenes, even when there's no reason for her character to be there. Benicio del Toro is largely wasted as the rival ballplayer that takes Ryburn's number though. Also watch out for a smarmy bit part from Kurt Fuller and a blink-and-miss-it appearance from Jack Black.

“The Fan” is about fifty percent an attempt at a serious, high-minded psychological thriller and fifty percent trashy slasher flick. The first half of that equation is underwritten and largely tedious. The second half is enjoyably silly. This is two tastes that don't taste great together, leading to a movie that feels simultaneously thin and overdone. Audience and critics felt much the same way, as the movie received negative reviews and opened to piss-poor box office. (The most amusing pan came from the film's on-set baseball consultant, who concluded that the filmmakers didn't actually care about the terrible sport of baseball.) While there is some entertainment value in Scott's grandiose approach and watching a screen legend overact, “The Fan” fails to put a memorable spin on unimpressive material. I don't know, maybe the book was better... [Grade: C]

Director Report Card: Tony Scott (1995)

8. Crimson Tide

Even though the two feuded all throughout production of “Days of Thunder,” Tony Scott and Jerry Bruckheimer clearly worked things out at some point afterwards. The two would partner again on a project called “Crimson Tide.” The story was loosely inspired by events that occurred on a Soviet submarine during the Cuban missile crisis. In order to ensure absolute verisimilitude, the director and producers were invited to tour a real Navy submarine. When presented with the premise of a mutiny aboard a U.S. sub, military officials objected. Despite the lack of government support, Scott and Bruckheimer would continue forward with the project. “Crimson Tide” would open in 1995, becoming Tony Scott's first unquestionable big hit of the nineties.

After the collapse of the Soviet Union, Russia is split in two following military action in Chechnya. Nationalistic forces in the Russian military seize control of nuclear missile installations. The Navy dispatches the U.S.S. Alabama, a submarine outfitted with nukes and captained by Frank Ramsey. Lieutenant Commander Ron Hunter is assigned as his executive officer. Soon afterwards, the Alabama receives orders two separate orders. The first is to launch missiles. The second is cut off when the sub is attacked by a Russian Akula vessel. Ramsey insists on going through with launching the nuclear missiles. Hunter, meanwhile, insists on not triggering nuclear war unless they're absolutely certain. Soon, Hunter is forced to detained the captain. Yet soldiers loyal to Ramsey lead a mutiny. A tense stand-off ensues.

It's not too difficult to figure out why the military objected to “Crimson Tide's” contents. While Scott's “Top Gun” was a pure work of propaganda about how awesome U.S. military might is, “Crimson Tide” has slightly more complicated thoughts on its mind. Captain Ramsey is an old school military man, unquestionably loyal to the ideas of the military. Hunter, meanwhile, is a more analytical soldier. The two men represented different sides of the question of what a soldier's job is. Ramsey believes it's to obey orders, without question. Hunter believes it is to protect lives. This conflict is what the entire film is built around and it's understandable why the U.S. military wouldn't want people asking questions like that.

Throughout the film, Ramsey and Hunter have a number of debates about topics other than whether they should fire nuclear missiles at Russia or not. The two debate horses a few times throughout the film. They have a specific debate about Lipizzaner stallions. Hunter believing they're from Spain and Ramsey being firm they're from Portugal. Even after everything is said and done, Ramsey refuses to budge on this entirely trivial matter. (Both men are wrong, by the way.) This shows that Ramsey is totally unwilling to accept any version of reality except his own. Hunter listens to facts but Ramsey can't imagine anything existing outside his own perception. “Crimson Tide” is essentially a movie about an authoritarian view of reality versus an empathetic one.

Despite these high-minded ideas, “Crimson Tide” is really about watching two legendary performers face off. This movie would begin the long and fruitful collaboration between Tony Scott and Denzel Washington. Washington plays Hunter as someone who is determined to keep his cool, no matter how tense things get. He's definitely scared throughout the film. You can tell because of the sweat beads on his forehead. Yet, no matter how terrified he may be at the prospects of ending the world, the character remains steady. Denzel, of course, expertly displays both of these conflicting emotions. He makes loaded lines, about how much shit the world is in if they're wrong, seem deep and passionate in execution. He even finds some time to invest the character with warmth.

The other side of this face-off is Gene Hackman as Ramsey. Hackman is an expert at playing blustery, crotchety old men and Ramsey has to be among his most blustery, crotchety roles. From the moment we meet him, it's evident that Ramsey is a hard-ass. Hackman can make this charming but, as the story goes on, he twists that act into something truly toxic. His authority being challenged is what really sets Ramsey off. This allows Hackman to shout and swear, growing increasingly unhinged. This level of high intensity acting is well within Hackman's wheelhouse. It also makes a good contrast against Washington's mellower performance. Watching these two play off each other definitely is the highlight of the film.

Yet the two men have more in common than they realize. To let the audience know he's a down-to-Earth guy, Hunter is introduced at his kids' birthday party. Before leaving to get on the sub, he gives the family dog a loving pat. All throughout the film, Ramsey is never far apart from his beloved Jack Russell Terrier. The dog even stays with him on the sub. This is the main way the script humanizes Ramsey. Even though the script never comments on this connection, it is an interesting link between the two men. Maybe if Ramsey was less of a conceited asshole, the two could've bonded over their mutual love of dogs or something. 

“Crimson Tide,” truthfully, has all the parts necessary to be an effective thriller. It has two compelling lead characters, motivated by strong ideas. It's tightly edited and well-paced. Hans Zimmer's score pumps along, keeping the adrenaline up. There's a number of effective sequences throughout the movie. The stand-off between the Alabama and the Russian submarine is tense. There's a lot of focus on the bleeping sonar, torpedoes just missing the submarine and rocketing through the water. This is supported by some fine model work and visual effects. As “Crimson Tide” move towards its conclusion, it succeeds in mining more tension from the conflict between the two men. The fate of the world, after all, is resting on their disagreement. 

Like I said, “Crimson Tide” has all the pieces needed to be a suspenseful motion picture. But there's a problem. See, this is a movie that revolves around the threat of the world plunging into nuclear war. In other words, if Ramsey gets his way, planet Earth as we know it will be destroyed. “Crimson Tide” is not an apocalyptic, sci-fi story though. It's a grounded military thriller. The story does not stray outside of the submarine but we can assume war between America and Russia hasn't been declared. There's no actual threat of the world ending. “Crimson Tide” isn't that kind of movie. Honestly, if a bogus plot description the producers supposedly gave the Navy – about an insane super computer threatening to launch the missiles – is true, it would've made the movie more effective. At least then, we could've accepted the possibility that impossible things might happen in this film. 

Even if “Crimson Tide” falls short of being as effective as it could've been, Tony Scott still directs the hell out of this movie. Clearly, he relishes the chance to make a movie on a submarine. The glowing control panels and darkened setting lead to countless shots of actors' faces bathed in red, green, or purple light. There's lots of tightly shot and edited sequences of people running through the tight interiors of the sub. The camera weaves in and around the catwalks and ladders of the setting. There's even a shot of a spotlight shining behind someone, which makes me wonder if Tony wasn't taken some hints from his brother's “Alien” movies. And before the story even really gets running, Tony makes sure to throw in a shot of the sun setting, all glowing and orange, over the ocean waves.

“Crimson Tide” is probably of most interest to a lot of film nerds because Quentin Tarantino, as a favor to his “True Romance” director, did some uncredited dialogue polishing on the script. The parts Tarantino is responsible for are really obvious. When pestering a new recruit on the bus ride to the dock, a pair of officers banter about famous submarine movies. Later, Hunter compares the situation to “Star Trek.” The most egregious insertion is a pair of officers arguing about which version of the Silver Surfer is the definitive ones. In lesser hands, conversations like this would feel utterly out of place. Yet, even when doing script doctoring work, Tarantino is able to ground his pop culture obsessed views. These exchanges are among the film's liveliest and most memorable.

A chance to co-star alongside such iconic figures as Denzel and Gene Hackman was probably irresistible to a lot of actors. This might be why “Crimson Tide” has a pretty great supporting cast. James Gandolfini returns from “True Romance,” as one of the officers loyal to Ramsey. It's a part that doesn't call for Gandolfini to be more than smarmy and intimidating but, naturally, he's excellent as that. After appearing in Ridley's “G.I. Jane,” Viggo Mortensen shows up as a far more reasonable military man here. It's not Viggo's most distinct part, though you can tell he delights in the chance to shoot off some Tarantino dialogue. Also, see if you can spot small roles from Steve Zahn, Ryan Phillippe, and Ricky Schroder of all people. 

“Crimson Tide” was well received by most critics, generally found to be a successful thriller. It did well at the box office, grossing 157 million against a 50 million dollar budget. I have no doubt that the mutual star power of Denzel Washington and Gene Hackman helped pack people into theaters. Yet I guess I'll just have to admit that this one didn't work for me. It feels like it should be based on a Tom Clancy book or something like that, one of those orderly military thrillers that are pitched directly at an older, male audience. Scott and Tarantino's attempt to spice up the material certainly helps, and it's no fault of the cast and crew, but “Crimson Tide” simply doesn't hook me the way a thriller should. [Grade: C+]

Director Report Card: Tony Scott (1993)

7. True Romance

In the late eighties, two video store clerks began to collaborate on a screenplay called “The Open Road.” The script grew so ungainly that the writers – Quentin Tarantino and Roger Avary – quickly saw it mutate into two separate projects: “Natural Born Killers” and “True Romance.” Shortly afterwards, Tarantino and Avary's careers began to take off. Before production began on “Reservoir Dogs,” Tarantino would sell the script for “True Romance.” Initially, “Maniac Cop” director William Lustig was attached to make the film but would exit the project after some time. Soon afterwards, Tony Scott would come aboard. Considering Tarantino has been a passionate defender of Scott his entire life, one can only assume that the soon-to-be mega-star filmmaker was overjoyed to have his script directed by one of his idols. The resulting film unquestionably belongs to both its director and its screenwriter, standing tall as Tony Scott's best movie.

Clarence is an obsessive pop culture nerd who doesn't have much luck with the ladies. During a screening of a Sonny Chiba movie, he encounters a vivacious woman named Alabama. The two immediately hit it off. It's only the next morning that Clarence learns Alabama is actually a call-girl, hired by a friend to show him a good time on his birthday. Yet Clarence and Alabama genuinely fall in love anyway, spontaneously getting married. When Clarence learns Alabama's pimp was abusive, he sets out to the confront the man... And ends up killing him. He grabs what he thinks is Alabama's suitcase but is instead a bag of uncut cocaine the pimp stole from the Sicilian mob. The couple head off to Hollywood, hoping to sell the drugs to a movie producer for a big paycheck. The mob, and soon the cops, are on their trail. Because the course of true love never runs smooth.

Tony Scott is a director obviously not afraid of letting a screenwriter's particular voice characterize a project. After letting Shane Black's sensibilities shine through “The Last Boy Scout,” he makes sure “True Romance” is unmistakable as anything but a Quentin Tarantino movie. The film begins with a spirited monologue about the attractiveness of Elvis. A Sonny Chiba triple feature is a plot point. “Rio Bravo,” “The Deer Hunter,” “Bullitt,” “Doctor Zhivago,” “The Mack,” Spider-Man, Batman, Charles Bronson, and William Shatner are all mentioned by name. More than just the frequent pop culture references, the movie's hyper-verbal style, where characters communicate with fast-paced and energetic dialogue, immediately marks this as the work of Mr. Tarantino. The film is so specifically his that its inciting incident – a movie nerd meeting a beautiful woman who immediately falls in bed, and love, with him – feels like a personal fantasy of the then up-and-coming screenwriter. 

Most people probably associate Tarantino more with decapitations and racial epitaphs than romance. Yet the love story at the center of “True Romance” is played entirely sincere. In Tarantino-Land, love is defined as extremely passionate above everything else. Clarence and Alabama fall in love in the span of the night and are ready to commit to each other within hours. Their all-consuming love isn't just about hot sex and complimenting taste. Clarence and Alabama's love is also all-forgiving. Even after she nearly gets beaten to death by a mob hitman, after it becomes apparent how deep shit they are in, Alabama never thinks Clarence has made the wrong choice. They fully support each other and that trust is the foundation of their love and why it lasts. 

This is still a Quentin Tarantino story, so it's not all love-at-first-sight and tender kisses. It becomes clear early on that Clarence is a little crazy. His admiration of Elvis is such that he actually imagines the King – played by a cleverly disguised Val Kilmer in a glorified cameo – talking to him, giving him pep talks usually while Clarence is taking a whiz. How much this is an imagined conversation to convince himself to do illegal things and how much of it is genuine delusion is kept ambiguous. Later, Clarence pulls a gun on someone and seems very sincere about shooting them. Of course, maybe both of them are crazy, as Alabama is touched when she hears that Clarence murdered two men for her. What would he had done if she hadn't been? He seemed pretty upset in the moment before! I guess these are the kind of intense personalities you expect from the writer of “From Dusk Till Dawn.”

“True Romance” is not just autobiographical due to Clarence obviously being something of a fantasy figure for Tarantino. This is also the story of someone trying to break into Hollywood. Clarence and Alabama travel across the country on a crazy dream. They meet with a struggling actor, an old friend of Clarence's, who promises them he knows a guy who works in the film industry. It's this tangential connection that gets Clarence an audience with a big shot producer, doing everything he can to charm the man with just his words. It's not too far of a stretch to see some of Tarantino's own story here, a fast-paced film aficionado doing everything he can to impress someone in the Hollywood system and have his big break. In a not-too-roundabout way, “True Romance” tells the story of how this nobody became one of the biggest talents in the industry.

When “True Romance” was first written in the late eighties, Tarantino and Avary envisioned Robert Carradine in the lead role. Which is hard to imagine, especially when Christian Slater seems like such ideal casting in the final product. Honestly, I'm surprised that Slater – an actor who certainly knows his way around some stylized dialogue – has never worked with Tarantino since then. He's got the swagger to pull off the particular rhythm of Tarantino's dialogue and make it totally believable. Yet Slater is also capable of bringing a certain vulnerability to Clarence. Despite all his tough talk, he really is just a goofy guy in love with wife who gets in way over his head. That's what allows you to actually get invested in him.

Starring opposite Slater is Patricia Arquette as Alabama. She's probably not the most nuanced female character in the Tarantino-verse. Alabama mostly exists to be Clarence's perfect woman. She likes all the same things he does. She immediately falls in love with him. She never blames him for anything, even when it's his fault. The last big thing she does in the movie is tell him how cool he is. As thin as the part arguably is, Arquette's charm goes a long way. She makes Alabama seem so totally at ease in her own skin. She creates a character that never feels anything less than genuine, someone who is sweet and funny and one hundred percent sincere about what she feels. Even if there's never a good reason for Alabama to love Clarence, that's the way the character was written and Arquette makes that the reality of the film.

With a man like Tony Scott behind the camera, it was guaranteed that “True Romance” would look as cool as it sounds. You can see some visual continuity here with “The Last Boy Scout,” shots of Clarence and Alabama hanging out in front of a billboard while white smoke wafts up towards them recalling that movie's stylized cityscape. The sequence set inside Drexel's whorehouse is oppressively colorful and noisy, befitting the chaotic setting. There's also several shots of orange sunsets, L.A. skyscrapers silhouetted in front of the sun. Scott even sees a brief return to the soft-focus love scenes of his early films. Clarence and Alabama's love scene is all blue filters and wet kisses. There's no billowing curtains but presumably just because there wasn't any place to stick some.

When it comes to the violence, Scott knows to leave the fancy lighting out of it though. When someone gets their dick blown off, we're treated to a bullet spitting fire and an ugly bleeding wound. The movie's brutal, uncompromising approach to violence peeks when a mob enforcer – played by an utterly terrifying James Gandolfini – confronts Alabama in an empty hotel room. The beating that follows is as severe as can be, the audience feeling each blow, the pain and degradation of the moment clearly conveyed. When Alabama gets a chance to strike back, the sequence becomes an extremely tense battle of wills, the woman inventively using everything in the environment around her to brutally defeat the physically stronger opponent. It's a frenzied, explosive moment of punishing violence, perfectly cut and filmed to make as big of an impact as possible.

If that fight between Gandolfini and Arquette is the first thing that comes to mind when I think of “True Romance,” another stern confrontation between two great actors is the second scene I think about. I'm referring to, of course, a terse trading of dialogue between Christopher Walken, as a stone-cold mob enforcer, and Dennis Hopper, as Clarence's cop father. It's two of my favorites actors facing off, each one perfectly delivering some of Tarantino's sharpest and most cutting dialogue. Hopper's acting in this moment is, really, quite subtle. As soon as he realizes who these men are, he knows he's dead. So he instead chooses to insult the men in the most intense way he can, telling a hilariously meandering anecdote undermining the men's proud Sicilian identities in their own vulgar, racist language. Walken plays his reaction as one of true amusement, admiring the balls on someone to do such a thing. Watching two titans of acting face off with such precise, poetically vulgar lines is something truly to behold. 

That moment is also Christopher Walken's only scene in the movie and only Hopper's second. That represents another fantastic tendency of “True Romance,” which is to fill otherwise small roles with colorful character actors. Such as Gary Oldman as Drexel the pimp, a character that is utterly outrageous – from his scarred face down to his absurd hair and accent – that Oldman completely commits to, creating a gloriously hatable scumbag. Saul Rubinek is amusingly over-the-top as the coke head producer, reportedly patterned closely after Joel Silver. Bronson Pinchot also gets some laughs as his high-strung assistant, who really gets in some trouble as the story goes on. The movie even fills otherwise tiny roles with notable performers. Like Samuel L. Jackson and Brad Pitt, right on the edge of turning into huge stars, as a random associate of Drexel's and a stoner roommate, respectively. In fact, Pitt turns a nothing role into something with his hilariously stoned delivery. 

If there's any major flaw with “True Romance,” it's the last act. As Clarence and Alabama come close to making their drug sale, the movie's different subplots come crashing into each other. The gang of Sicilian mob enforcers, a group of cops played by Chris Penn and Tom Sizemore, and a pair of heavily armed bodyguards all storm into a room together. The shoot-out that follows is suitably bloody and chaotic. My issue with this moment is that Clarence and Alabama are afterthoughts inside it. It's certainly somewhat disappointing that the story's protagonists, the characters the audience is most invested in, end up being minor parts of their own movie's climax. My other problem with this moment is that it pulls our attention away from Clarence and Alabama during a pretty tense moment in their lives, to focus on the less interesting side characters. 

I'm referring to Clarence catching a bullet in the eye and almost dying. As Tarantino originally envisioned the film, there was no “almost” about this moment. Clarence was going to die and Alabama was going to be left alone. Tarantino was excited about Tony Scott directing the film largely because he loved the bleak ending of “Revenge” and knew he'd be willing to do something similar here... Yet the decision to spare Clarence's life was not driven by studio mandates or test screening score cards. Instead, Scott rewrote the ending strictly because he loved these characters too much. And I think he made the right decision. Clarence and Alabama earn their happy ending. The original ending – it's on the DVD – would've felt like a balloon deflating. Instead, “True Romance” maintains its oddly sweet center all the way through to its conclusion.

On his commentary on the DVD, Tarantino also notes that Scott disregarded most of the music cues from his screenplay. Obviously, needle drops are an important part of Tarantino's identity as a filmmaker. Of the songs in the movie, only two seem to have been selected by the screenwriter. That would be Burl Ives' “Itty Bitty Tear” and the Big Bopper's “Chantilly Lace,” both of which are perfectly deployed. This doesn't mean I dislike the other songs included in the movie. “Wounded Bird” by Charles and Eddie, which plays over Clarence and Alabama's love scene, is an especially inspired choice. Also notable is Hans Zimmer's score, which establishes a swooning, romantic mood with some well-timed xylophone sounds.

Where the director's last two movies had been box office disappointments, “True Romance” would be a genuine financial failure. The movie only managed to break even against its 12 million dollar budget and that's including a meager international gross. The film was marketed poorly and Tarantino was not yet a household name. However, it wouldn't be long before the movie found an audience, mostly thanks to video and cable. Soon enough, “True Romance” would be accepted into the Tarantino canon and its cult classic status would be set in stone. In retrospect, it's easily Tony Scott's best film, a beautifully acted and endlessly entertaining neo-noir saga that is totally sincere about the sappy love story at the center of this tale. [Grade: A]

Director Report Card: Tony Scott (1991)

6. The Last Boy Scout

Production on “Days of Thunder” was so chaotic that it ended Tony Scott and Jerry Bruckheimer's relationship, at least for a while. The movie wasn't a huge hit either but Scott's reputation was such that he simply went across town to work with another big shot action movie producer. That would be Joel Silver. Silver had recently partnered with Geffen Productions to produce “The Last Boy Scout,” the latest script from Shane Black. The “Lethal Weapon” scribe officially became the highest paid screenwriter in Hollywood when Geffen bought this script for 1.75 million dollars. The movie would also see Silver re-teaming with Bruce Willis, their first collaboration since “Die Hard 2.” “The Last Boy Scout” was also a difficult production. Willis would insist on extensive rewrites. Scott would feud with both Silver and Willis. The movie was extensively reworked in editing. “The Last Boy Scout” also opened under expectations but, unlike “Days of Thunder,” would become a cult classic on video.

Joe Hallenbeck was once a national hero, after he took a bullet meant for the president. After he refused to cover up a senator beating a woman, he was fired from the Secret Service. Joe now works as a P.I. and his life is in tatters. Within the course of a day, Joe discovers his wife is sleeping with his best friend, watches the aforementioned friend get blown up by a car bomb, and takes the job the now deceased friend offered him. That would be to protect Cory, the girlfriend of disgraced pro-football player Jimmy Dix. After Cory is gunned down by in front of them, Joe and Jimmy reluctantly team-up. They uncover a conspiracy involving a professional football team owner, the mob, drugs, and gambling. 

Like a lot of Shane Black's scripts, “The Last Boy Scout” is a homage to pulp detective novels of days long since passed. The same sort of literature that inspired the classic film noirs that Black and Scott obviously admire. Much like those novels, “The Last Boy Scout” has a plot that quickly grows convoluted. There's multiple plot points running that seem disconnected at first but eventually intertwine. Lots of side characters work their ways in and out of the story, some of them important and some not-so-important. Schemes are cooked up and our protagonists are embroiled in them. Evidence and leads are found, lost, and found again. If you keep track of all of it, you might get a bit confused. 

Like Black's later directorial credits, “Kiss Kiss Bang Bang” and 'The Nice Guys,” the twisting neo-noir plot have very little to do with why the movie is so entertaining. “The Last Boy Scout” is packed, front to back, with the kind of hilarious and lightning fast dialogue that Black is most well known for. The number of one-liners inside “The Last Boy Scout” are almost impossible to keep track of. Joe cracks jokes at a hitman, about how fat his wife is, when he has a gun pointed at his head. A sly mention of a horse from Jimmy comes up again, brilliantly, at the end of the movie. Even when getting shot at by the bad guys, our heroes never stop throwing quips around, about time travel or art classes. It might've been insufferable if the dialogue wasn't so consistently sharp and funny. Black makes sure to include a meta-joke at the end about one-liners too.

Not that there was any doubt about who wrote this movie, just based on the dialogue. Even if that wasn't the case, you could still tell “The Last Boy Scout” was obviously a Shane Black joint. The movie is rift with his trademarks. Like “Lethal Weapon” and his later movies, it's about two dudes who fucking hate each other at first. However, over the course of a crazy adventure, they end up becoming best pals. The movie also features a smart-mouthed young kid, in the form of Darian, Joe's potty-mouthed pre-teen daughter. Naturally, she gets swooped up in the crazy crime story too. “The Last Boy Scout” isn't quite a perfect Shane Black hat trick. The movie is not set at Christmas though “Satan Claus” is something of a running joke.

As originally written, Black's screenplay was much darker than a lot of his other films. The already psychotic villain was even more dangerous as originally written, involved in the production of snuff films and trying to kill Joe's wife with a chainsaw at one point. Even after the extensive rewrites, “The Last Boy Scout” is still deeply cynical. The movie is set in a world without heroes. Joe was once a national hero but has now fallen on such hard times that, when the bad guys try to frame him for murder, nobody doubts it. Jimmy, coincidentally enough, was once Joe's sports hero. After catching him snorting drugs in his bathroom, Joe looses all respect for him. And in this hopeless world, what emerges as our religion? Football, of course. The opening – where the appropriately named Bill Medley sings about the greatness of the sport – is set against an American flag. The corruption of this institution, the last thing we can all agree on, is the proof that the movie's world is totally sullied..

Probably the biggest sign that “The Last Boy Scout” takes place in a hopeless world, aside from the fact that athletes are the last heroes anyone has, is the amount of abuse women suffer. Joe and Jimmy's virtue is established when they both defend women from sexual assault. Jimmy walks in on another football player forcing a woman's head under the water of a jacuzzi. Joe punched out a senator torturing a woman. The murder of another woman is what brings the two of them together. Now, don't think this makes “The Last Boy Scout” especially progressive. Said dead woman was a stripper, albeit the type that only exists in movies that don't take their clothes off. There's still lots of casual language questioning the virtues of people's wives and mothers. Yet it is notable that, at the very least, the amoral setting of the film agrees that rape is bad.

Tony Scott was the perfect man to bring this script to life. If a filmmaker tried to handle a story that's so bleak in a realistic way, “The Last Boy Scout' would've been far too grim to be enjoyable. Instead, Scott decides to create a hyper-stylized, comic book-like world. The scene where Joe takes out the hitman is set in a alleyway, so pitch-black it becomes almost purple. Exaggerated clouds of white smoke steam up out of all the sewer greats. A couple of Dutch angles are thrown in too. Of course, Tony includes some cars and people silhouetted against the a deep orange sunset several times too. The stylized lighting and frenzied editing of the last act action scenes are also very familiar to anyone who has seen a Tony Scott movie before. He was the exact right person to bring this script to life, even if Joel Silver and Bruce Willis didn't think so at the time.

Adding to the movie's exaggerated world is how ridiculously over-the-top its action set pieces are. When shit blows up in “The Last Boy Scout,” it blows way the fuck up. And a lot of things blow up in this movie. Multiple cars explode gloriously, in enormous, rolling fireballs several times throughout the first hour. When people get shot, the squibs are giant. Bruce Willis kills a dude with a single punch in this movie. By the last act, shit is happening like cars are driving down mountains, driving off roofs, landing in swimming pools, and then catching on fire. The finale involves the bad guy getting splattered into red mist by helicopter blades. The first cut of “The Last Boy Scout” was so gory, that the movie had to edit down from an NC-17 to an R. Yet it's hard to imagine anyone being offended by something so purposely exaggerated and ridiculous. 

Shane Black also likes to write main characters who are troubled. Martin Riggs, after all, was suicidal in the first “Lethal Weapon.” Joe Hallenbeck has it almost as bad. In the beginning, he's sleeping in his car and getting cucked by his best friend. His wife hates him. His daughter doesn't respect him. He's blown every opportunity he's ever had. His character establishing moment occurs when he looks in his rear view mirror and describes himself as a complete and total loser. Bruce Willis has always been at his most charming when operating as a slightly sad-sack everyman. John McClane was compelling not because he was a bad-ass who never quit but because he was a normal guy stuck in an insane situation. Joe exaggerated this quality of Willis' to even more cartoonish levels. It really works. Additionally, Willis is totally adapt at playing with Black's crisp, comedic dialogue.

Supposedly, Bruce Willis and Damon Wayons, who plays Jimmy, hated working with each other. That's never evident in the movie, as the two have excellent chemistry together. Wayans, a veteran comedy performer, can naturally grapple with Black's dialogue just fine as well. We know Damon Wayans can be funny but I was a bit surprised at what a strong dramatic performer he is. Jimmy gets a monologue midway through the film about how he lost his wife and child to a car accident while he was training for the play-offs. It's a weighty moment and Wayans' delivery of it is subdued, as if the character has had a long time to live with this heartbreak. It's a show-stopping moment and then the film continues with the wisecracks and mayhem shortly afterwards. But that's a scene I'm going to remember for a while.

A colorful supporting cast, featuring some familiar faces, is also assembled. Danielle Harris, after “Halloween” 4 and 5 but long before the “Halloween” remakes, plays Willis' daughter. She's hilarious, the contrast between an adorable little girl with braces and the horrible things she says never coming off better. Harris makes Darian's tendency to show up where she shouldn't or talk via a cat puppet pretty charming. Halle Berry, back when she was just an up-and-comer, appears as Jimmy's doomed girlfriend and Bruce McGill appears as Joe's doomed friend. Tayler Negron, of all people, plays Milo. He's the psychotic enforcer chasing after our heroes for most of the film. Negron makes the character a vaguely effeminate weirdo who always refers to people by their full names and seems overly sadistic. He certainly makes for an unforgettably strange villain, in the pantheon of 80s/90s action movie bad guys. 

Wikipedia tells me that “The Last Boy Scout” made 114 million worldwide against a 43 million dollar budget, so Warner Bros, Geffen, and Joel Silver didn't loose money on this one. But coming off the 240 million dollar gross of “Die Hard 2,” it was seen as a disappointment. Releasing such a hyper-violent movie around the Christmas holiday might've had something to do with the middling returns. Critics were largely unimpressed, most finding the movie cliched or too violent. Eventually, though, the film would find defenders thanks to its hilarious dialogue, stylized direction, and uniquely cynical worldview. Once again, Tony Scott makes a bad-ass action movie, and a bad-ass looking action movie, while letting a capable cast and a strong script speak for itself. The result is pretty damn entertaining. [Grade: B+]

Director Report Card: Tony Scott (1990) - Part Two

5. Days of Thunder

Tony Scott's first release of 1990, “Revenge,” would do mediocre business at the box office. Luckily, the director already had another high-profile gig lined-up by the time his previous movie came out. “Days of Thunder” would see the director reteaming with Tom Cruise and producer Jerry Bruckheimer, the same superstar team that would make “Top Gun” the biggest movie of 1986. What should've been a sure shot was hampered by a fraught production. Filming began without a finished script. Scott would frequently feud with Bruckheimer and other producer Don Simpsons. (Whose excesses reportedly including a private gym and wardrobe, that he used to seduce women.) This would cause production to drag on, the movie going way over budget. “Days of Thunder” then had to rushed through post to make its summer release date. At the end of such a tumultuous shoot, everyone involved surely had to ask themselves “Was it worth it?” Thirty years after the checkered flag waved, we can answer that question for sure.

Car builder Harry Hogge is lured out of his farm-based retirement to design a race car for an up-and-coming driver: Cole Trickle, a successful open-wheel racer who is looking to break into NASCAR. Cole is talented but undisciplined and Hogge and his pit crew endeavor to make him a more well-rounded driver. Soon, Trickle forms a rivalry and eventual friendship with Rowdy Burns, another racer. He also develops a romance with neurologist Claire Lewicki. Cole navigates injuries and honor on his way to the Daytona 500. 

Watching "Days of Thunder," it's impossible not to think of "Top Gun." Not just because the movies share a director and star. In both movies, Tom Cruise plays a supremely talented, but egotistic, pilot of vehicles that go fast. In both, his speedy ways earn him the scorn of a similarly fast rival. Eventually, he earns the friendship and respect of this man. In both, an accident and a friend being harmed causes Cruise to consider giving up his passion. (Though the rival and friend are combined here and ultimately survive.) "Days of Thunder" even employs a lot of the same visuals. Like beginning with dramatic silhouettes of its fast vehicles behind a sunrise. Or having its hero ride around on a motorcycle. 

Another thing "Days of Thunder" has in common with "Top Gun" is that both movies are propaganda. This movie isn't military propaganda, unless the army has a secret race car division I don't know about. Instead, "Days of Thunder" is corporate propaganda. By setting the story in the world of car racing, where vehicles are already plastered with ads from companies, the movie allows for constant product placement. The Chevrolet and Mello Yello logo appear so often that they might as well have star-billing. Moreover, "Days of Thunder" features cameos from numerous real NASCAR drivers. I don't think it's a coincidence that NASCAR experienced a huge boost of popularity in the nineties, after a high-profile movie set in this world. The movie definitely feels like a feature length advertisement for the sport, to combat the public perception that NASCAR is nothing more than cars driving around in a circle.

Yet "Days of Thunder" is actually a little better written than the previous Scott/Cruise collaboration. Both Maverick and Cole are defined largely by their "need for speed." Yet a later monologue clarifies that Cole's driving motivation is to master the unmasterable chaos of going fast. The movie is about him learning that some things can not be controlled, such as the unpredictable ebb-and-flow of life. After much scolding from his girlfriend and mentor, he discovers the balance in going fast and going with the flow. In a way, this ends up subverting the "need for speed" ethos of both this movie and "Top Gun."

But don't think that this script is anything but strictly formula. (But not Formula 1. That's a different kind of race car.) It's a story awash with familiar characters, like the greedy team owner, and story beats, like a required break from racing before a successful return. You can predict that Cole's path to racing victory will eventually be interrupted by an injury, following a highly cinematic crash. We know that his mentor and girlfriend will challenge his philosophies and cause him to grow into a better man. No matter how much it might seem like he could loose the race, obviously he's going to cross the finish line before anyone else. There's never any doubt where "Days of Thunder" will go next or where it'll end up,

The cheesiest plot point arises out of Cole and Rowdy's friendship. Their progression from rivals to friends probably should've taken some more time. Rowdy is naturally skeptical of this outsider, no matter how fast he is. I was really expecting Rowdy to be the antagonist throughout the film but it's not long before the two become more good-natured competitors. That's because "Days of Thunder" has to set up its most dramatic plot point: Rowdy almost dies in a crash and is left with a brain injury that prevents him from racing. He asks Cole to win the race for him. Everyone tells Cole not to do it, because of his own injury, but he speeds ahead. Because sometimes you gotta defy your doctor's advice and do it for your bro! It's a "win one for the Gipper" style plot that you've seen before in other, better sports movies.

If nothing else, Tony Scott in the director's chair insures that "Days of Thunder" is nice to look at. The filmmaker revisited many of his trademark visuals. Such as the aforementioned, sun-draped morning and evening shots. Or Cruise dramatically emerging from a wall of smoke. (Though there's not a single billowing curtain in sight, which feels like a missed opportunity.) Scott definitely knows how to frame and edit a car race too. The racing, and crashing, scenes in "Days of Thunder" are smoothly assembled in such a way as to suggest and excitement. Visuals of cars spinning through the air, amid flames and twisted chrome, are exciting to watch unfold. There's a reason Scott was among the top action directors of this time. Dude knew his stuff. 

The biggest obstacle that prevented me from enjoying "Top Gun" more was Cruise's Maverick being such a swaggering, egotistic douchebag. "Days of Thunder" does do better than that. Cole is still naturally gifted in the ways of going fast. Yet his cocky exterior is punctured early on, as he quickly learns that Hogge and Rowdy do know more than him about this subject. We're only about a half-hour in before we get to the scene of Cole admitting he's been humbled and asking Hogge for help. This makes the character a lot more believable, making the dramatic incidents later in the script easier to swallow. It also helps humanize Tom Cruise's superhuman image, which ensures the actor's presence is more charismatic than uncanny. 

This does not prevent the romantic subplot, much like in "Top Gun," being hard to believe. Cruise and Nicole Kidman, as Claire, do have more chemistry than the star did with Kelly McGinnis. The two were dating at the time and would be married by the end of the year. Yet the romance still comes off as utterly contrived. Claire has no agency of her own. Despite her stern words of warning, she still appears at the end of the movie to congratulate Cole on his victory. She is a simply a plot device that exists to further the protagonist's character arc. It's also hard to believe these two fall in love, considering their meet-cute is Cole mistaking her for a stripper and shoving her hand on his dick. Not the most romantic introduction.

Kidman and Cruise are fine in their roles, even if neither can surpass the simplistic writing. Cole is totally within Cruise's wheelhouse of hyper-macho, overconfident superhumans while Kidman is mostly limited to looking glamourous and trading emotional dialogue with her then-boyfriend. Unsurprising, it's the character actors in the supporting roles who are able to bring more life to such routine material. Robert Duvall adds a lot more humor and warmth to Hogge than was probably necessary. We're so used to seeing Michael Rooker as psychoses and rednecks that it's surprising he's so charming as Rowdy. Rooker creates not a one-dimensional asshole but someone rightly skeptical of Cole's intrusion into his world. Though I do wish Cary Elwes, who plays Cole's adversary in the final race, was given more to do. The same goes for Randy Quaid and John C Reilly, who are stuck in small roles as a race team owner and mechanic. 

If there's one element of "Days of Thunder" that isn't strictly routine, aside from Scott's visuals, it's the music. There wasn't much of an attempt to replicate "Top Gun's" hit soundtrack. Though there is still a blood-pumping rock song and a sappy love ballad, provided by the guy from Whitesnake and Maria McKee respectively. Neither are very memorable. Instead, it's Hans Zimmer's score that really powers things here. Zimmer combines wailing guitars – to invoke the revving of the motors – and soaring orchestral melodies with simpler, pretty piano pieces. The resulting is a truly exciting theme, that gets the audience far more pumped-up than any of the events in the actual story does. 

"Days of Thunder" was primed to be a summer blockbuster. It had all the usual tie-ins, like a suite of video games. (Though, weirdly, one of these game versions didn't come out until twenty years later.) This also included a motion simulator theme park ride at Kings' Dominion three years later, which is probably the thing about the movie I remember most vividly. Yet "Days of Thunder's" ugly production gave it a 60 million dollar price tag that was hard to overtake in 1990 dollars. The film would top the box office its first weekend but quickly fell down the charts, ultimately making it a financial disappointment. I want to say the movie is largely forgotten by the public, but there was that video game and an ESPN retrospective documentary. So I guess the movie is still remembered by people who give a shit about auto-racing. Either way, "Days of Thunder" struck me as a fairly standard ride. [Grade: C]

Director Report Card: Tony Scott (1990) - Part One

4. Revenge

In 1979, author John Harrison would publish the collection “Legends of the Fall.” Included inside was the simply-entitled novella “Revenge.” The film rights were purchased shortly after the book came out, with “Revenge” becoming a hot property in Hollywood. A series of different directors and leading men became attached to the project. John Huston was going to make it, with Jack Nicholson starring. Walter Hill did a pass on the material, envisioning Jeff Bridges in the lead. At different points, Orson Welles or Jonathan Demme were going to direct. Eventually, the book passed across the desk of Kevin Costner, who wanted to both star and direct. When producers deemed Costner too inexperienced as a director, Tony Scott would come aboard. “Revenge's” convoluted path to the screen would conclude in 1990.

Jay Cochran has just retired after twelve years in the Air Force. One of his parting gifts is a set of rifles sent by his old friend, Tibey Mendez... Who is also a Mexican crime lord. Cochran goes to work for Tibey on his compound, which is where he meets Miryea, the gangster's much younger wife. It's not long before Cochran and Miryea have fallen in love, escaping to a cabin to spend a lusty weekend together. Yet Tibey is aware of the affair. He sells Miryea into prostitution and beats Cochran nearly to death. Left to rot in the desert, Cochran instead survives and begins to plot his revenge. 

Tony Scott clearly shared his brother's love of classic noir storytelling. "Revenge" utilizes the harshest archetypes of the noir genre. This film is about a good man's heart being hardened by the desire for revenge. About an honest person who gets in over-his-head and is forever changed, exposed to the darkness of the world. It's about women being treated cruelly, sold into sexual slavery by a man who only sees her as an object. Friendships are betrayed and relationships are destroyed. By taking the tropes of noir to their most pitch-black conclusions, "Revenge" creates a bracingly nihilistic atmosphere. 

If the film is a neo-noir, it's also something of a neo-western. The story is set in the modern day, not the far-off frontier era. Yet the visual language is often that of the western. The endless, flat landscape of the Mexican desert is often highlighted. Horses appear as often as cars or airplanes. Small, Mexican villages, that seem untouched by the modern world, are the main location. A chapel and saloons out in appearances. The story – of betrayal in the south-west, of men fighting over a woman – could be told more-or-less the same if you dropped it backwards in time. "Revenge" feels like a uniquely American fusion of noir and western.

The film also sees Tony Scott returning to the soft-focus eroticism of "The Hunger." The tension between Cochran and Miryea builds from the minute they lay eyes on each other. They draw closer throughout the day, most notably during an amusing scene where they attempt to make margaritas together. Finally, they meet in a pool house and consummate their passion. All the billowing curtains, softcore groping, and wet kisses displayed in "The Hunger" return. For a solid half-hour, "Revenge" rarely slows down with the sex. Cochran and Miryea acrobatically coupling in the pool, by the fireplace, and most improbably, while he's driving a Jeep. What keeps it from sleazy or cheap is the passion on display in these scenes. "Revenge" conveys a sense of genuine eroticism, because Scott's camera so lovingly glides over all the scenery and naked body parts.

Of course, it's not just the fucking that looks stylish and sensual. The entire movie is gorgeous. You can tell Scott loves to shoot the green oases, yellow hills, and orange landscapes of these locations. Individual images linger in the memory. Like a woman walking a horse through a fog-strewn grove. Or a burning cabin reflected in the lens of a man's sunglasses, the fire almost seeming to form words. Of course, those sexy night shoots are full of deep blues and purples, extending the sensuous feeling even to the cinematography. The desert sky rolling over an unconscious body or a chapel silhouetted behind a sunset are beautiful images the film just can't resist. 

No matter how photogenic "Revenge" is, the events within are far from it. Matching the brutality of the story is an uncompromising approach to violence. Oh sure, there's some of that stylized Tony Scott bloodshed. Like when a rival gangster is shot in the head, and blood splatters in slow-mo on a near-by white lampshade. Yet most of the violence in "Revenge" feels grittier than that. Kevin Costner is beaten to a pulp and spends weeks recovering, fingers smashed and face swollen. Miryea's face is sliced and the resulting scar is ugly and hard to ignore. When Cochran gets a chance at his revenge, the stabbing is furious and bloody. There's little cinematic catharsis in this violence. It leaves the audience feeling as hollow and sullied as it does the characters.

The film is no less savage in its treatment of women. While Cochran is recovering from his wounds, we see Miryea's hellish experience in a brothel. She's beaten and repeatedly raped. She's hooked on heroin, to make her compliant. Throughout it all, she holds onto Cochran's dog tags, never loosing hope that they'll be reunited someday. It's hard to excuse a movie heaping so much misery on its lead female character just to teach the male protagonist a lesson about the uselessness of vengeance. Scott directs Miryea's brutal treatment with the same stylized touch as the rest of the movie. Those billowing curtains return during a rape scene, which feels like it must be an ironic contrast. I'm not saying any of this okay but, if you're willing to accept the amoral world "Revenge" takes place in, it makes sense. Everyone is treated equally harshly in this story.

Such brutality, naturally, proceeds a downbeat ending. Incoming spoiler alert for a thirty-one year old movie: Cochran does find Miryea but it's too late. She is dying of AIDS. He carries her into the sunset, holds her in his arms, and she dies. In less adapt hands, this ending would've been a massive disappointment. The characters suffer through all of this, only for her to die literally minutes after they are reunited? Yet, somehow, it works. Cochran's roaring rampage of revenge being futile certainly creates a message about how vengeance itself is a self-destructive desire. Moreover, a tearful ending fits "Revenge's" hopeless world. Like I said, a woman -- still looking gorgeous even as she's ravaged by a horrible disease -- existing primarily to be abused by men and die in her boyfriend's arms is probably sexist. Yet, in the brutally nasty noir neither world of "Revenge," it all fits. There's no other way this story could end.

There's certainly plenty of evidence to suggest that a lot of thought was put into this ending as well. Before sealing Miryea's fate, Cochran has his confrontation with Tibey. Instead of the righteously violent shootout you'd probably expect from a Tony Scoot, the climax is contemplative. These men were once the best of friends. Both feel a massive amount of regret for what they've done to each other. Both have lost everything, in their quest to visit revenge on each other. It makes a violent ending unnecessary, as they've both already taken what they love most from each other. It doesn't change "Revenge's" status as a movie about manly men and their manly feelings. Yet it continues the idea that revenge is pointless. The audience is denied all absolution in this story.

Even though Kevin Costner's passion for the novel is ultimately what got "Revenge" made, he ends up being the weak link in the film. It's a little hard to accept wholesome, all-American Kevin Costner as a man whose heart is blackened by his all-consuming desire for revenge. Even as a guy who would sleep with his best friend's wife, he's a little less than believable. Costner double-downs on the hard-boiled act for most of the movie, trying to sell himself as a bad-ass who has seen some shit. There's something in his delivery that feels ingenuine. I don't even think Costner is a bad actor and he does his best here, even working pretty well in a few scenes. (Like the deliberate, drawn-out throat slashing scene.) I just think he was miscast. 

The rest of the cast might make up for it. Madeleine Stowe is gorgeous as Miryea and the story doesn't really require her to be much more, other than heartbreakingly fragile. Anthony Quinn, as Tibey, is more subdued than you'd expect for a great actor that was long into the hammiest portion of his career by this point. One of the most enjoyable things about "Revenge" is how colorful characters weave in and out of its story. Such as James Gammon, as a mysterious fellow known only as the Texan, who appears for a string of funny and memorable moments before dropping out of the story. Miguel Ferrer and John Leguizamo show up near the end as a pair of hardened bandits who help Cochran out, both being perfectly deployed. Even Sally Kirkland, showing up as a loud-mouthed woman who attempts to pick up Costner at a bar, provides some much needed comic relief in her handful of scenes. I've got to respect a movie that makes room for colorful character actors in its story, let's the, do their thing, and then happily moves on. 

"Revenge" was not all that well received in 1990. Reviews were largely negative, some accusing the film of being a vanity project for Costner or that Tony Scott was still all style, no substance. The box office was also underwhelming. Yet, in time, the film would attract some defenders. John Harrison found the film so close to what he envisioned in his novel that he was supposedly moved to tears. Quentin Tarantino is, famously, a big proponent of the movie. By 2007, "Revenge" had acquired enough of a following for Tony Scott to create a director's cut for the Blu-Ray release. Proving Tony is the more considerate of the Scott brothers, the director's cut is actually twenty minutes shorter than the theatrical version. While Costner's off-tone performance keeps "Revenge" from being perfect, it is a compellingly cynical motion picture, stylishly directed and with an unforgettable mean streak that leaves a real impact on the viewer. [Grade: B+]