richard donner Tagged Articles at Cinematical

The Princess Bride definitely wasn't the first romance rife with corrupt authority, innocent love, dueling, and quirky friends of the cause. It wasn't even the first of that '80s generation. Two years before inconceivable stories of true love, there was Richard Donner's Ladyhawke.

As much as I love the story of Wesley and Buttercup, theirs wasn't an iconic love. Sure, it was described as such -- and Wesley may have fought off death in the name of it -- but it was a movie of sweetness, not passionate, gut-wrenching love. That was saved for Captain Etienne Navarre and Isabeau d'Anjou -- the wolf and the ladyhawke. No voiceover needed to explain their attraction. It was there, even as their human form was not, in every tortured look. Navarre and Isabeau are the first iconic cinematic couple that my mind can remember, and their fleeting moment between transformations is a scene that was burned into my memory immediately, and has stayed with me these 24 years later -- as if I saw it yesterday. (Catch it after the jump.)

Trivia: Did you know that Kurt Russell was originally tapped for Navarre, and Donner wanted Rutger Hauer to play the evil captain?

As for Michelle Pfieffer, not too long after that, she found her Dangerous Liaisons, which led her to Stephen Frears and, ultimately, this week's new release -- Chéri. Still, to me, at least some part of her will always be Isabeau, cursed to spend her days as a hawke on the arm of her love.

When you hear the word boycott, your mind probably goes to big moments in history like the Montgomery Bus Boycott in 1955 or President Carter boycotting the Olympics back in 1980; what you probably don't think about are summer blockbusters. Over at The New York Times, Michael Cieply looks at a rare summer season that saw almost all of the big studio releases experience a fan boycott. So even though there are the obvious targets like Angels and Demons; it didn't stop there. Practically all of the big summer releases have earned a spot on a list that included: Terminator (thanks to a very unpopular PG-13 rating), Star Trek (in hopes of a little fund-raising for space exploration), and even Wolverine (and no, not because of the amnesia bullets; instead it was due to the political leanings of one of the film's consultants, Richard Donner).

You almost have to wonder why anyone would go to so much trouble? Even though I totally get how a film can inspire protests because of content that a group may find offensive or inappropriate; to me it seems a little extreme to organize online petitions and custom-design logos just because you might have to wait a little longer for the next installment of Harry Potter. But the voice of experience in this debate is New Line's President, Rolf Mittweg, who told the Times, "If you have a group that might speak out against the movie, and they're large enough to affect the box office, you have to do something about it," Mr. Mittweg knows better than anyone the effect a boycott can have on a film's bottom line, having dealt with the backlash for The Golden Compass; saying, the film could have "done 50 percent better in the United States had there been no organized opposition."

After the jump; why movie studios still aren't losing sleep over fan boycotts.

Fox has not had a good year -- and as with most drama-filled issues, they really have only themselves to blame. Variety points out that they were the only studio this summer that didn't have a $100 million domestic earner. What they did have was a lot of widely-derided flops like The Happening, Space Chimps, and Meet Dave. They also had films that might have done well, had they chosen to actually sell them, like The X-Files: I Want to Believe. They were also dealt a bit of bad luck when it came to X-Men Origins: Wolverine, which was supposed to come out this summer, making it the greatest superhero year ever, but was delayed due to Hugh Jackman's commitment to Australia. (A film which the studio is really hoping bails them out come fall, along with Marley and Me.)

Faced with so much failure and drama, what is a studio to do? Well, turn to superheroes, of course! As you read this, they're holding strategy meetings to dust off or create some new franchises off their comic book properties. They're looking at more X-Men spinoffs, including a young X-Men project that might just be X-Men First Class. They're also looking at giving Deadpool his own movie -- which seems a no-brainer when you have Ryan Reynolds playing him in Wolverine. Why, they're even looking at reviving Daredevil. (Frank Miller and Jason Statham, call on line two.) It's enough to wind up any Marvel fan.

Continued after the jump...

I can tell you a thousand things that Scrooged, director Richard Donner's 1988 updating of A Christmas Carol, gets wrong. It features Bobcat Goldthwait, for one example; it's silly and sketchy and has the attention span of a fruit fly, for another. Carol Kane's Ghost of Christmas Present is amusing for a millisecond and annoying for every moment thereafter. The script veers between brilliance and bathos, there's at least four too many sub-plots and the film is littered with those little Donner touches -- left-leaning posters as set dressing, acting in his own film -- that mark Donner as one of the more competent and terrifying hacks of our time.

But there's one thing that Scrooged gets right -- and indeed, it gets that one thing so right, that moment of perfection turns it from a diverting cable standby to compulsory holiday viewing. Mitch Glazer and Michael O'Donoghue's script gives a modern makeover to Dickens's classic story, and also mocks the Scrooge tale even as it re-enacts it. Frank Cross (Bill Murray), the youngest network president in the history of television, is harried and hateful as the holiday approaches; his network's spending $40 million on a live production of A Christmas Carol (which, for some reason, the film calls "Scrooge") that'll run Christmas Eve. The live shoot is going to be a mess: Buddy Hackett's playing Scrooge, and isn't great with his lines, at one point asking in dress rehearsal "Why am I surrounded by these sea urchins?" John Houseman's doing the narration; Mary Lou Retton is playing Tiny Tim. It's going to be horrible. And, most importantly to Frank, profitable.

No Christmas is complete without at least one viewing of the opening scene of Lethal Weapon, in which the happy melody of Jingle Bell Rock fades into the vision of a coked-out, topless Amanda Hunsaker preparing to pay for all the sins of 80s excess with one perfectly executed swan-dive off a high-rise balcony and onto the waiting windshield of a car below. I won't be so brash as to call it the best scene in the entire Lethal canon -- the 'death by surfboard' sequence in Lethal Weapon 2 is tough to beat -- but it's certainly up there, and fun for the whole family. It's also one of several Christmas-focused scenes throughout the film, another favorite of which would be the coke-deal gone bad in the Christmas tree lot, with Martin Riggs unwisely revealing himself as a cop to the bad guys before he has the drop on them -- what is he, suicidal or something? -- and then getting into a full-blown gunfight with several hoods amongst all those pine needles.

Lethal Weapon has some similarities with another Christmas classic, Gremlins, in that it draws a lot of its negative energy from the idea that if your life sucks, it's going to suck a lot worse during the holidays. The film's most resonating scene -- the one for which a set trailer reportedly had to be ready-made at all times for whenever Mel Gibson felt like he could act the scene -- comes with Riggs being overcome by the absence of his recently-deceased wife (those South African bastards) and putting a hollow-point bullet into his 9mm and putting the 9mm in his mouth. Just as he's about to depress the trigger, you can hear Bugs Bunny shouting Christmas tidings on the television opposite, and it looks like it's all over. It's easy to overlook how good the acting is here -- Mel is really firing on all cylinders in the scene. I have no idea if he's ever done a DVD commentary for the film, but if he has I'd probably want to listen to hear what he has to say about that scene.

Welcome back to The Write Stuff! I'm thrilled that there is such a strong interest in screenwriting out there. Thank you all so much for your comments last week, both here and on my site. All of your questions and comments will be addressed in the coming weeks, so stay tuned and keep them coming!

The first interview for the column is with red-hot screenwriter Adam F. Goldberg. Adam is living the dream. He writes for both television and film, and his upcoming movie projects include Fanboys, the live-action Jetsons movie, and They Came from Upstairs. Cinematical spoke with the incredibly busy Goldberg about his scripts, his process, and Goonies: The Musical.

Cinematical: You said you were being "enslaved by a director," what are you working on? And should I call the authorities?

Adam F. Goldberg: Perhaps call them for my hacky writing! It's called They Came From Upstairs for Fox. It's a family movie, kinda like Gremlins -- but with aliens. The spec was written by Mark Burton and was sold for like $1.7 mil. I believe I am making about .0001212 of that. It's been a really cool project. The movie was in pre-production and the studio realized the script wasn't ready and shut it down pretty late in the game. I came aboard to get the train back on the tracks which is always high pressure and very difficult to do. I handed in 40 pages and they re-greenlit the movie and we're casting and location scouting now. I'm on draft two currently, working next to the director and bringing his vision into it.

Cinematical: Is that an awkward process at all -- being brought in to re-write a fellow writer? Do you ever run into hurt feelings or bruised egos? I guess the $1.7 million makes the pill easier to swallow.

AFG: Well, I come from the TV world, writing on sitcoms and that's very collaborative. You have to sit in the room and watch 10 other writers tear apart your script right in front of you. That bruises your ego. As for movies, more often than not a writer can only go so far and it's your job to bat clean up. It's never a great feeling to have your screenplay rewritten, but hopefully you've moved onto your next project, so it doesn't sting so much. And believe me, that $1.7 payday is like winning the lottery. I hope I can sell a spec one day. I've had little luck in that department.

I was working at a movie theater in the summer of 1998, the summer Lethal Weapon 4 was released. One of my job responsibilities was to stand and wave goodbye to people as they'd leave their movies. (Armageddon came out the week before LW4, and I got a lot of mileage out of the line, "With all this waving, my Armageddon tired!"). I was excited about Lethal Weapon 4. I hadn't loved the previous installment, but Mel Gibson and Danny Glover were back, I had come to terms with the fact that Joe Pesci wasn't going anywhere, Rene Russo is about as solid a love interest as an action movie can get, I think Chris Rock is hilarious and I had heard amazing things about Jet Li. Plus, this would be the first Lethal I saw on the big screen. How could it go wrong?

Answer: In just about every conceivable way.

Lethal Weapon 3 was a mess, but it was a fun mess. LW4 isn't fun at all. It's downright boring. Everyone looks tired and uninspired (rhyme). The laughs aren't there. The action, aside from a great highway chase, is run-of-the-mill and confusingly shot. And there's a downright icky sentimental streak running through it -- a sappy side that is light years away from screenwriter Shane Black's original vision for these characters.

Watching Lethal Weapon 3 in the middle of this season full of big, bloated "threequels," it almost looks quaint. It's also -- and again, this might be due to the dreary current state of the summer blockbuster -- somewhat better than I remembered. Somewhat.

Don't get me wrong, it's a hot mess. They tried to cram way too much into this movie, which is why you get a lot of scenes of Riggs and Murtaugh coincidentally standing next to crimes as they break out. There's not a whole lot of police work going on here. Basically, wherever Riggs and Murtaugh are hanging out -- action will materialize. Witness the unbelievably unbelievable scene where Murtaugh takes Riggs to a hamburger stand and gets behind the counter to make him the world's best hamburger. Why is this scene in there? So our boys can "stumble" upon a crime in progress -- right in the middle of Los Angeles' notoriously dangerous "Hamburger Stand District." It's all pretty damn lazy.

Mel Gibson and Danny Glover should teach a class in chemistry. Their natural, lovable work remains the real draw of the series. These guys could play these roles in their sleep, and indeed there's a bit less spark in their performances this time around. The Riggs character continues his unfortunate watering down, but Glover is given a little more to chew on outside of running around yelling "Riggs!" The "8 days from retirement" bit is beyond played out, but having Murtaugh deal with aging works well for the film. Scenes like the one where Murtaugh accidentally fires his weapon in a locker room and Riggs covers for him are pretty touching.