Wolf (1994)

Director: Mike Nichols

Cast: Jack Nicholson, Michelle Pfeiffer, James Spader, Christopher Plummer

Have I Seen It Before: Never. A monster movie starring the Joker and Catwoman? The movie absolutely fascinated me from the far distance of a movie poster or VHS cover at a Blockbuster or other rental venue. But it was one of those uniquely grown-up (as opposed to adult, which has a different connotation) films that was just out of reach, and somehow got a little more than forgotten by the time I had freedom to come around to it.

Did I Like It: The opening credits unfurl, and I know I can’t be in for a bad time, and this doesn’t even take into account the fact that the Nicholson+Pfeiffer+Mike Nichols equation should be more than enough to guarantee a good time. James Spader? Screw you, I thought he was great on The Office. David Hyde Pierce? Who has had a bad time when he is on the screen? Ennio Morricone? Slow down, movie. You already had me at Jack Nicholson!

And the movie that follows fulfills that promise, for the most part. When it shifts the mythos of the werewolf into a commentary on toxic masculinity of the 1990s*, it moves the monster movie into something more interesting than it might be on its own. When it is Columbia’s big summer movie, complete with the complicated real estate of two of the biggest stars at that moment respectively growling and arching their back in grey scale, it ultimately doesn’t quote move beyond being just another monster movie whose special effects had little hope of not aging past their sell-by date by the time the 90s were over.

*Don’t worry: It hasn’t changed that much in 30 years. Also, worry: It hasn’t changed that much in 30 years.

Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf? (1966)

Director: Mike Nichols

Cast: Elizabeth Taylor, Richard Burton, George Segal, Sandy Dennis

Have I Seen it Before: Never.

Did I Like It: You know, kind of? 

I never really had any interest in the work of Elizabeth Taylor. I think because as she became more well known for her marriages than her acting, the pictures fell by the wayside. If you’re born after 1980, she’s just that lady that was in the perfume commercials and showed up in The Flintstones (1994)*.

So, it’s to my enduring surprise she (and Richard Burton for that matter) could be in a movie so deceptively simple, and so watchable. Maybe Cleopatra (1963) is actually worth a watch? For that matter, the forging of a real movie couple usually spells certain doom for the watchability of a film, but in this context it’s hard not to believe the long stretches of fury punctuated by intermittent moments of something resembling affection. It has to be hard to forge a play written to within an inch of its life into something like pseudo-documentary, but I’m struggling to think of an instance where Mike Nichols fell short of making a great film.

His skills at theatrical adaptation are unparalleled, too. I recently watched Glengarry Glen Ross (1992) and was struck by the fact that very little was done to the source material, almost to the point where the film becomes a filmed stage performance. In this film, however, the camera bobs and weaves through the setting, elevating things beyond their origin. I almost feel like a clandestine voyeur to these people and their lives, hiding behind what is happening. It’s a much more theatrical experience than just placing the camera on a tripod and hoping everything will work out.

* I’ve never been more convinced that my generation was full of crap than when I just typed that sentence.

Primary Colors (1998)

Director: Mike Nichols

Cast: John Travolta, Emma Thompson, Kathy Bates, Adrian Lester

Have I Seen it Before: Oh, man. Many, many times.

Did I Like It: There are few films (to say nothing of the source material) that have more influenced my early writing. 

The story of campaign workers slowly losing their sense under the weight of a wave of pure charisma speaks to, if not me, than certainly a younger version of me. That’s not who I am anymore, but its hard not to deny the sheer tonnage of nostalgia that the movie brings.

I just realized I didn’t answer the “did I like it” question, did I? Imagine that, not giving a straight answer to a question. Kind of like a politician. I do like the film. There are few truly great Travolta performances, and with his aw shucks Dr. Jekyll fighting with his horny, petulant Mr. Hyde, this might be my favorite of his work. But, ultimately, this movie  may not quite sing for me as much as it once did. 

I don’t think that it is the fault of the filmmakers. Just like a news story from the era, I just thin kit doesn’t age terribly great. Who could have guessed at the time that it would have this problem?

Could it be that large swaths of it ring tone deaf in the #metoo era. Possibly, but there is a moral environment in the film where our protagonist, Henry Burton (Lester) seems willing to fight (even if he eventually loses) for those more lofty ideals.

Is it because a cynical political satire about the Clinton era of politics doesn’t quite work the same in a time when the entire world seems like its increasingly on fire? That may be the more likely explanation for where the age is showing. Characters stand around knowing that if the juggernaut candidate Freddy Picker (Larry Hagman) is involved in some kind of nepotistic business deal or a tax swindle, he clearly has disqualified himself from being President. Twenty years ago, this film was bleak in its cynicism, now it is either Capraesque or naive in the extreme.