Tag: 1980s

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Burning the Letters: Amy Holden Jones’ “Love Letters” (1983)

It is easy to live in a perpetual state of longing, where one allows fantasy to take over and construct reality as one sees fit. This is, after all, what makes affairs so easy and yet so painful. While they need not be physically intimate, all ultimately remain ideas of the mind. On the one hand, gone goes the responsibility of everyday ennui, and rather, that space is filled with ideas about Romance and possible futures together. However, should this future never come to fruition, or even should one go further as to realize the person one has fantasized over is nothing more than a dud, well, perhaps this might make letting go easier after all?

“Love Letters” is a very sensitively rendered film about longing. The second feature from Amy Holden Jones, her first was The Slumber Party Massacre (1982), which is a campy popcorn flick. This time, however, she is dead set (no pun) on something more serious. Granted, keep in mind that this is a 1980s film so it is not without its flashy dream sequences and clothing of the era, but for a low-budget film, “Love Letters” delivers.

The film stars young Jamie Lee Curtis as 22-year-old Anna, a classical Radio DJ for a show in California. Her mother is dying in the hospital, and upon her visit, the two casually chat before Anna has to leave. ‘I have a show,’ she says, ‘But I’ll see you tomorrow.’ Likewise, Anna’s father also visits, and there is a notable distance between them. Little does Anna know that this is the last time she will see her mother alive. Then, after the funeral, Anna uncovers a box with her mother’s love letters—all seem to have been written by a man named Joe, with whom her mother had an affair while married to Anna’s father.

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A screenshot from Steve Martin's "Roxanne", starring Steve Martin and Shelley Duvall, depicting Martin's large nose with a bird perched upon it.

Romance Before Texting: Steve Martin’s “Roxanne” (1987)

Whenever I rewatch films from my childhood, too often I am disappointed that the film doesn’t hold up as well as I remember. This should be no surprise, but pleasantly there are those narratives that do hold up upon rewatch. Earlier this year I reviewed the 1988 camp classic Cocktail that, despite its quality soundtrack, is a film that I knew wasn’t good when I saw it, aged 12. Steve Martin’s Roxanne, however, delivered a warm rendering at the time but also holds up well today. Granted, much of the story is set within an absurd reality, thus requiring a suspension of disbelief, but more on that later.

Written by and starring Steve Martin, the film is a retelling of Edmond Rostand’s 1897 verse play Cyrano de Bergerac with Martin as the witty hero with one big problem: his nose. It’s so big, in fact, that it offers a nice perch for the birds. Furthermore, he can’t drink wine from a wine glass but must inhale it instead. Clearly, people don’t inhale liquids, and this silliness is why the story works. Daryl Hannah plays Roxanne, a beautiful, brilliant astronomy student who believes she’s discovered a comet. Upon getting locked out of her house one night without any clothes, she must trek to the fire department behind a row of bushes. There, she encounters Charlie (Martin), the fire chief, who she hopes will be able to let her back in. ‘Do you want a coat or anything?’ he asks. ‘No, I’d rather stand here naked in a bush in the freezing cold,’ she speaks while shivering. Charlie takes what she says literally, and when asked why no one had a coat, Charlie replies, ‘You said you didn’t want one.’ (Irony escapes him and deadpan humor seems to be his thing.) Then, when she asks if he would like to come inside, he’s already making himself a snack. ‘I sort of already did.’ (In any other film, such behavior would be regarded as creepy, but not here.) […]

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Tom Cruise smiling at his bar in Roger Donaldson's Razzie Award winner, "Cocktail".

The Wistful Longing Under the Drink Umbrella: On Roger Donaldson’s “Cocktail” (1988)

Imagine a guy whose life goals are to become a simple-minded millionaire and own a bar, albeit not necessarily in that order. How he gets there, though, is not by owning the bar, but by marrying a ‘rich chick,’ who will not only fund his shallow endeavors but also provide the down payment for the bar, or at least her father will, but we don’t know for sure. Do we care?

The 1980s spawned a plethora of bad films that rivaled the 1940s paint-by-number melodramas where the simple script is churned out with a particular star in mind. Enter in some friction where the guy goes off to hustle another woman for a while, but in the end love triumphs. After all, it’s not difficult to think you’ve met your soul mate while screwing for a week on the beach in Jamaica.

Cocktail stars Tom Cruise as Brian Flanagan (who I will just refer to as Tom Cruise throughout this review), a materialistic dullard just out of the service and desperate to open a bar and become a millionaire. He reads lots of ‘get rich quick’ books, but none work. He wants a high-paying job with influence, but his lack of a degree is getting in the way. Then he meets a seasoned bartender named Doug (Bryan Brown), who offers him a job. Doug also happens to be the only entertaining character in the film, and is full of lots of advice, like how a bartender is the ‘aristocrat of the working class.’ ‘The waitresses hate me,’ Tom Cruise says. ‘Wait till you’ve given them crabs. Then they’ll really hate you.’ Huh? […]