The Little Shop of Horrors (1960)

Director: Roger Corman

Cast: Jonathan Haze, Jackie Joseph, Mel Welles, Dick Miller, Jack Nicholson*

Have I Seen it Before: Never. I mean, obviously I’ve seen the eventual musical remake, but never the original. Oddly enough, the version currently available on Amazon Prime is a colorized version of the film. My immediate instinct was to run in the other direction, as colorization of black and white films always strikes me as a bit overtly odious. Then again, I can’t honestly say I’ve ever actually sat down and watched a colorized version of a black and white film, so why not? Could it really be that bad?

Did I Like It: Yep. Colorization is very, very bad. Maybe other endeavors have been even marginally less distracting, but this job done on a film now in the public domain was not doing anyone any favors. Those colors injected into the proceedings were too muted to add anything to what Corman and company had already created, and if that weren’t enough those long-since-abandoned attempts at colorization really didn’t have the whole thing figured out. Occasional frames would occasionally revert back to the black and white original, perpetually giving this viewer a disoriented feeling which in no sense was designed by the filmmakers.

Aside from presentation problems, any sort of B-movie has to be approached less as something more than the sum of its parts, and more a search for those parts which might transcend the limitations. The whole package may not be completely satisfying, but there are moments of fun. Some of the dialogue is deeply deranged in a way that makes one a little uncertain they heard what they actually heard. As mentioned in that footnote, any time spent with Dick Miller (and Jackie Jospeh, no less!) or Jack Nicholson** js always a good time.

But still, if you’re ever stumped for trying to find an example of a remake that is better than the original from which it sprang, I think I may have cracked the case for you.

*Genuinely, desperately torn about who should get the fourth billing in this review between Miller and Nicholson. I have a tremendous affection for both. Eventually opted for both. I can make those kind of in-house style changes on the fly: I’m good with the owner.

**Playing delightfully against type, probably because

As Good as It Gets (1997)

Director: James L. Brooks

Cast: Jack Nicholson, Helen Hunt, Greg Kinnear, Cuba Gooding Jr.

Have I Seen it Before: Oh, sure.

Did I Like It: Everyone loved it when it came out, pulling of the The Silence of the Lambs (1991) trick of sweeping both of the lead performers awards at the Oscars. No film has ever done it since. It’s occasionally heartwarming, often very funny, and there’s no reason why everyone wouldn’t have loved it.

I suppose the question in 2024 is, can it possibly hold up? Other celebrated films from the era—I’m mainly thinking of American Beauty (1999), but it isn’t precisely a 1:1 analogy—have been thoroughly dismissed as celebratory of our worst impulses. One would imagine that this film isn’t going to be immune from such considerations, when it is frequently both willfully and gleefully politically* incorrect.

And yet, I think there’s something telling in the fact that while the film did win those acting awards, it was completely cut out of any other attention in favor of Titanic (1997). The performances are key here. I’ve always said that more than any other movie star, Nicholson excels at portraying awfulness and charm simultaneously. He certainly had it as The Joker in Batman (1989) (although that would be a bit of a pre-requisite for the role), and I can only imagine what The Shining (1980) would have been without that quality**. So even now Melvin Udall (Nicholson) says and does deeply terrible things, you can’t help but be charmed somehow.

That wouldn’t be much to hang an entire film on anymore, though. The quality that makes the film still largely work when it might otherwise gone sour is the same quality that likely kept it from unqualified praise in the 90s. Yes, the role is tailor made for Nicholson’s talents, but the film does reach for a redemption for its characters, if even in small measures. Even if it wasn’t for love, Udall wants to be better. Will he succeed? Probably never nearly as much as the people around him might want, but if the horrors of the current age are ever going to abate, we might need to afford the assholes in our lives the grace to improve.

*You know what? I’m not thrilled with the amount of adverbs in that sentence, either.

**Likely something approaching the TV miniseries The Shining (1997), but I digress.

The Departed (2006)

Director: Martin Scorsese

Cast: Leonardo DiCaprio, Matt Damon, Jack Nicholson, Mark Wahlberg

Have I Seen it Before: Oh, sure. Any time I hear “Gimme Shelter” I can’t help but think about the film (I was surprised by just how much the Stones tune actually does appear in the film). I heard the song on the radio this morning and it became clear to me just how much I wanted to re-watch the film today.

Only, my DVD—which I probably haven’t watched in fifteen years wouldn’t play. Set aside the horror upon realizing that physical media might one day degrade even if kept in essentially ideal conditions, I was glad a streaming option existed.

Did I Like It: Set aside all of the pointed commentary about how Scorsese’s Oscar win for this film was less about the actual qualities of the film and more about how profoundly he had been robbed in years past. Set aside the fact that at it’s core it is a very basic cops and gangster story, with the requisite byzantine plot that needs the audience’s full attention, meaning it would not be the kind of wide release hit if it were released today*. Set aside the fact that I’m not entirely sure Alec Baldwin didn’t think he was in some kind of broad comedy here.

This is quite likely the last great performance we’re going to get from Jack Nicholson. I’ve written in other reviews that he—more than maybe any other movie star in the history of the moving picture—is able to make objectively reprehensible characters undeniably charismatic, and even likable. If that’s not enough to recommend a film, I don’t know what is.

*That might read as commentary on the eventual awards and financial fate of Killers of the Flower Moon (2023), but its more a commentary on the fact that we so rarely get those kind of adult-oriented action thrillers anymore.

Easy Rider (1969)

Director: Dennis Hopper

Cast: Peter Fonda, Dennis Hopper, Jack Nicholson, Karen Black

Have I Seen it Before: Yeah…

Did I Like It: This film might very well be the single greatest argument for the auteur theory. The entire experience is what one imagines having a conversation with Dennis Hopper must have been like, especially at that time. It’s digressive and almost always chaotic. The only real passages which feel like a real movie taking flight are those where Jack Nicholson incontrovertibly introduced himself to the world as a movie star for the ages. 

And yet, there are occasional moments of profundity. The palpable discomfort—their most rational thought by the time the film comes to a sudden stop—of the nonconformist has never and likely will never be depicted with such lethal efficiency. Even if the complaints of the so-called normal people have become somewhat quaint—to say nothing of the fact that Hopper’s own politics would take a 180 degree turn over the years—the feelings associated with those interactions keep the film surprisingly fresh, more than fifty years later.

Also, after an hour and a half, it still feels like it’s gone on far too long and you’re not entirely sure what the whole thing was about. The prolonged sequence in New Orleans is so aggressively odd, that I’m left wondering if Hopper was a genius, a madman, both, or an absolutely bore pretending to be brilliant and insane. In an effort to try and answer to that question, I even went ahead and listened to Hopper’s commentary tracks. Aside from his warm remarks about Phil Spector, I’m no closer to understanding the man or the film for which he is most remembered.

Maybe that’s the point? Perhaps Hopper hated being pigeonholed so much that his film about rebellion couldn’t help but rebel against the idea of being much of a movie at all.

The Two Jakes (1990)

Director: Jack Nicholson

Cast: Jack Nicholson, Harvey Keitel, Meg Tilly, Madeline Stowe

Have I Seen it Before: Never. It’s always been sort of a random fascination for me, given that it was the essentially forgotten sequel to Chinatown (1974), but it’s always managed to remain elusive, what with it being uncelebrated and never appearing on a streaming service. To my knowledge, I had never even laid hands on a DVD copy of it until recently, and with that morbid curiosity taking thrall, I had to have it.

Did I Like It: I don’t think I’d get a lot of pushback when I put Jack Nicholson as one of the greatest movie stars of all time. Many may not believe that my judgment there isn’t exclusively tied to Batman (1989), but I assure you it is not.

He’s not much of a director. It’s not his fault. Throughout his career, he did his level-headed best to not take the task on all that much. This ilm only came about because by all indications this film should have languished in development hell before ceasing to exist, like the third in the Gittes trilogy did after this film was received with a collective shrug.

Nicholson’s performance is fine here, but I can’t help but feel he’s distracted. Although, to be fair, I wonder whether I would think that if I didn’t know he also directed. The screenplay from Robert Towne is constructed with the same level of craft he brought to all of his scripts, and which made Chinatown one of the most celebrated—and studied—examples of the form. The direction, however, is merely competent. There is nothing wrong, but there is no artistry, mainly because Jack was the last man left to direct it, not because he had a burning desire to do so.

Curiosity sated. Would I recommend you watch the movie yourself? Only if you must, which I did.

A Few Good Men (1992)

Director: Rob Reiner

Cast: Tom Cruise, Jack Nicholson, Demi Moore, Kevin Bacon

Have I Seen it Before: Oh, sure.

Did I Like It: Again, sure. I’ve been watching a lot of film adaptations of stage plays lately, and incidentally the film an television work of Aaron Sorkin as well. Now, the Venn diagram collapse in on itself, and I’m thinking it may be the best of both worlds.

Reiner does the needed work to actually adapt the material for the screen. Far too many plays turned into films never rise above their claustrophobic trappings, but I never feel that way watching this film, even in the courtroom scenes, where it all could have been forgiven. I’ve never had the pleasure of seeing a live production of the story, and it’s been several years since I’ve read Sorkin’s original stage play, but my faint memory seems to think there is very little lost in the adaptation, and the scope of the story is somehow increased.

Sorkin’s work here is superlative as well. It’s terrible to say, but I do wonder if the author had ever recovered creatively from gaining sobriety nearly twenty years ago. The TV and movies he has written since then have had a very similar quality, with him even repeating certain turns of phrase as if he’s trying to strike the match of his true genius without poisoning his body at the same time. This effort, however, is Sorkin at his hungriest. While the stage play had enjoyed some positive reviews during its broadway run, he was far from the go-to man for Oscar bait screenplays. He wrote this on cocktail napkins during bar tending stints for La Cage Aux Folles. There was no guarantee of success. No sign of future writing work. He was hungry, and it showed.

It’s probably impossible to make him hungry again. He can run slightly afoul of his glory days in television, but he simply chooses not to write for television anymore. I don’t think he should go back on cocaine, but there’s got to be a better way to harness what he had before.

Batman (1989)

Director: Tim Burton

Cast: Michael Keaton, Jack Nicholson*, Kim Basinger, Michael Gough

Have I Seen it Before: Let’s put it this way. There was a time when if you were to say any series of words that happened to be a line from the movie, like, say “Better be sure,” I would feel compelled to perform the next ten minutes of the movie. “See? You can make a good decision when you try. Hehehehehe. Where you been spending your nights? Well, welcome Count Dracula… Etc.”

I’ve gotten better in my advancing age, but not by much. I still perform the rest of the movie in my head, I just don’t make you watch it.

So, yes. I’ve seen it before.

Did I Like It: Is it even possible to offer criticism of a film that has lived in your head since your earliest memories? Can I ever watch this movie without watching the Michael Gough-staring Diet Coke Commercial and Bugs and Daffy demanding I call a 1-900 number for a Warner Bros. catalog (the traditional manner, as both ads appear before this film on the initial VHS release)? Is there room in the world for both a Batusi and a Batdance?

These are just some of the thrilling questions I will attempt to answer here.

The film’s production design is second to none. The film is clearly being filmed on a backlot, where every moment of action that isn’t in Stately Wayne Manor, The Gotham Globe, or Axis Chemicals**, seems to take place on the same street corner in Gotham. And yet, with matte paintings and other tricks of the camera, one is almost fooled into believing that Gotham is an actual city. Batman’s (Keaton) vehicles are wrought metal creations so indelible that while they were originally meant to adapt the then-fifty years of comics that had preceded it, but ended up becoming the ur-template for the next thirty years of interpretations of the character. 

The makeup is pretty special as well, but without the man behind it, all you’re essentially left with is Jared Leto. While Nicholson doesn’t quite pull off the same job that Heath Ledger does  in The Dark Knight (2008), but he doesn’t need to. Ledger disappeared into a character so slithery and despicable that there was incredibly little left of the actor. Nicholson chews scenery with aplomb, but isn’t the least bit interested in jettisoning the movie-star persona that had gotten him the role.

And then there’s Michael Keaton. He was shamed on spec for even approaching the role of the World’s Greatest Detective, because, I dunno Beelejuices and Messrs. Mom can’t kick ass? Once the movie actually came out—indeed, by the time the first trailer artificially inflated the box office of Deepstar Six (1989) or The January Man (1989)—he became Batman for an entire—read: my—generation. I’d love to see him reclaim the role in a Batman Beyond/The Dark Knight Returns adaption, but what really makes his performance stand out is that Keaton, as Bruce Wayne, is a stellar nerd. He’s never been able to be Bruce Wayne with any reliable success, but when he is at work, he is his best self. It also helps that he has a car that’s essentially a jet engine on wheels. Between his performance in these films and Bill Murray as Peter Venkman in Ghostbusters (1984), I had most of the attainable pillars of masculinity that I would ever need.

That probably says more about me than anything else, but I digress.

I have been effusive with praise for the film up until this point, but there is plenty that doesn’t work, and I’m not just talking about Robert Wuhl***. My generation is pretty in love with Prince, but since this film was my first exposure to his work, I’ve never found him—dare I speak ill of the dead—anything more than distracting. Also, the screenplay doesn’t hold up under even minimal scrutiny, buried as it is under the whizbang circus that Burton is far more interested in. And, here I’m not talking about Jack Napier/The Joker (Nicholson) usurping Joe Chill’s rightful place as the the murderer of Bruce Wayne’s parents. In fact, I’m only kind of talking about how eager Batman is to kill those that stand in his way. The rest of the plot is far too wobbly for its own good., too. And, on spec, it isn’t a bad plot, either! The idea of the mob getting a hold of CIA-abandoned nerve toxins and unleashing them on a city’s cosmetic product supply could make a pretty good movie, but it just isn’t particularly allowed to breathe here. The closest thing to a traditional goal-oriented story arc is handed to Vicki Vale (Basinger), but her dogged sleuthing of just what is up with both Batman and Bruce Wayne always rings a little hollow, because we have come into the film with the mystery all wrapped up in our heads. Honestly, I’ve thought a superhero story where the secret identity element becomes the back-bone of a whodunit has always appealed to me, and I may yet write it one day.

The film is chicken soup, just like mom (or, in this case, Tim Burton) used to make. I went into this screening nursing the tail end of a head cold and a stomach ache, and now I’m thrilled to say I can enjoy the films more medicinal properties the next time I don’t feel well.

So, sure, it’s worth watching, I guess. It’ll probably take upwards of thirty years for the film to reach the same level for you as it does for me, but I think you can get there.

*Some confusion about who should get top billing on this one, but I choose to go in alphabetical order. Some eagle-eyed readers will think I am giving way to bias and putting Keaton ahead of Nicholson. I’m reasonably sure that’s not what I am doing here.

**Which themselves are re-used sets from James Cameron’s Aliens (1986).

***I’m supremely confident Mr. Wuhl is a decent guy, and wouldn’t have made that crack about him if I didn’t think he was in on the joke. I once saw an interview with him where he called some other film I’ve now forgotten, “So bad, that I thought I was in it.” He seems like he knows what’s up.

Mars Attacks (1996)

Director: Tim Burton

Cast: Jack Nicholson, Glenn Close, Annette Benning, Pierce Brosnan, Everyone

Have I Seen it Before: Oh Sure.

Did I Like It: It’s exactly the movie it wants to be, and if some people can’t appreciate that, I certainly can.

The text of this review appeared previously in a blog post entitled “How Could No One Else Like These Movies? Part Two, But With No Electric Boogaloo.” published 04/30/2017.

Quick. Name your favorite alien invasion movie of 1996. The Arrival starring Charlie Sheen. Close, but not quite. Contact? Not an alien invasion movie, and wasn’t even released in ’96! Come on, folks. Get it together! 

Of course, most of you named Independence Day, and you’re still wrong. Roland Emmerich’s urban destruction-fest is so removed from any sense of irony, that it’s almost impossible to bear. On the other hand, Tim Burton’s running B-movie homage—à la the epic comedies of the ‘60s like It’s a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World (1963)—has a cast of what feels like thousands. Pam Grier! Tom Jones! Quarterback* Jim Brown! Also, Jack Nicholson channels his inner Peter Sellers and pulls double roles as the beleaguered American President James Dale, and casino developer Art Land**. What’s not to love? 

Apparently, in the golden age of irony that was the 1990s, there wasn’t room for such a movie. But guys (and ladies), let’s get real. It’s a big Tim Burton movie that doesn’t have Johnny Depp putting a new wig through a shakedown cruise***. How many more of those are we likely to get?

*Which I'm told is some kind of footballman.

**Were the movie made today, those two roles could be filled by the same character. Courage, folks. We’ll get through this together.

***To be fair, Nicholson goes through at least two wigs in the movie, but it’s not like that became his whole life from that point on.

The Shining (1980)

Director: Stanley Kubrick

Cast: Jack Nicholson, Shelley Duvall, Danny Lloyd, Scatman Crothers

Have I Seen it Before: I’ve always been the watcher of this movie…

Did I Like It: What’s not to like? Yes, Mr. King, we’ve already heard from you.

Before making films, Stanley Kubrick was one of the premiere still photographers in the world. As a filmmaker, he never seemed particularly interested in being a dramatist, and stayed firmly entrenched in his roots. Thus, as a director he ends up being more of an impressionist, if one can be such and still make studio pictures. Thus, the film is a Rorschach test, providing any watcher with exactly what they want to see (see Room 237 (2012)). And thus, it’s only partially an adaptation of the original King novel.

Kubrick, though fills his movie with general dread for as long as he can, and then erupts the film King throughout his work has been very interested in mythology, perhaps at the expense of actual horror. Kubrick just wants us to feel the horror, and for my money, he mostly succeeds, while at the same time giving us far more (although perhaps not as much as some others would have us believe) to chew on.

Much has been made of King’s displeasure with the book, and beyond the reality that Kubrick’s movie is not a faithful adaptation, I just don’t see it. He has—at times—complained about how he believed Jack Torrance as played by Jack Nicholson appears to be a madman from the first frame, making his transformation to axe-wielding maniac more of a tragedy. Aside from a simmering hostility that Nicholson seems to have as part and parcel of his film persona, I just don’t quite see it. 

King’s book is a fine book, but not his best. Whereas with the film—with the sheer depth of analysis that can be made about the movie is staggering—is a far more memorable experience.