Tony Scott Retrospective: “Unstoppable” (2010)

I have to admit that if “Unstoppable” had been directed by anyone other than Tony Scott, I probably never would have seen it. That seems a shame, but still probably justified, because nobody could have directed this movie as well as he did. Audiences (whether familiar with Scott's work or not) weren't sold on the premise, either. It wasn't an out and out failure, but it didn't make a profit until being released internationally. Probably the reason people skipped it is because of the absurdly simple premise: An unmanned runaway train has to be stopped. It didn't help that “Saturday Night Live” did a ruthlessly cynical (funny, but ruthlessly cynical) spoof trailer that positioned the film as deserving to be ridiculed.

The truth is (and this is the most impressive part of the movie), the simplicity of the story – in other words, its purity – is what makes it so great. One, present the problem. Two, try solutions. Three, eventual success. It's actually a perfect model for story telling. How creative could a story about a runaway train be while remaining realistic? “Unstoppable” is as good as a movie like gets. This is not a dumb movie, just simple. Keep in mind, the number one movie of the same year was “Avatar,” which was complex, but stupid.

As usual, it's the performances that give it gravitas. Tony Scott's favorite leading man Denzel Washington returns as the earnest blue-collar hero and newcomer Chris Pine is the promising sidekick. As the SNL sketch plays up, the major rift between our protagonists is their age/experience, but the movie doesn't rely on that after initially addressing it. In fact, somewhat refreshingly, these two get along pretty quickly (even before facing their challenge together) with occasional friction peppered throughout. You know, like a real working relationship.

The standout performance is Rosario Dawson. Always great in everything she does, her character as the yardmaster is well realized as the woman who's clearly not taken seriously in such a male-dominated industry. She's tough, she's smart, and she gets stuff done. You can see her trying to maintain a sense of decorum to compensate for the built-in bias against her while pushing back against the status quo due to what's at stake. Performances like this are the real reason why it's unfortunate that a movie like this is overlooked.

But, of course, the saddest part of “Unstoppable” is that it's Tony Scott's final film. What an irony, given the title. With the possible exception of Scott's family (who have kept details of his final written words private), nobody know the reason for his suicide. There were a handful of projects he had in process and it's doubly tragic we'll never see them. We did eventually get to see the “Top Gun” sequel helmed by another director and, not only beautifully executed, but dedicated to Tony Scott's memory. Scott had eyes on a remake of “The Warriors,” which we all know would have been incredible. Another was an ambitious adaptation of the true story of Emma McCune, a British foreign aid worker who married a war lord. The one I think I would have most like to have seen though was a translation of Clifford Irving's historical fiction epic “Tom Mix & Pancho Villa,” which Scott himself described as a combination of “Lawrence of Arabia” meets “The Wild Bunch.”

Alas, these will have to be left to our imagination as they were left to his. In conclusion of this year-long chronological reacquaintance with Tony Scott's repertoire, right now at this very moment, here is the list of all of his feature films in my order of preference:

1. Enemy of the State

2. True Romance

3. Beverly Hills Cop II

4. The Last Boy Scout

5. Crimson Tide

6. Domino

7. Spy Game

8. Man on Fire

9. Unstoppable

10. Deja Vu

11. Top Gun

12. Revenge

13. Days of Thunder

14. The Hunger

15. The Taking of Pelham 123

16. The Fan

Thank you, Tony Scott. I'm sad that you're gone, but I'm happy your movies live on.

Tony Scott Retrospective: “The Taking of Pelham 123” (2009)

Tony Scott has directed remakes of two films: “Man on Fire” and “The Taking of Pelham 123.” Both films are based on novels. Tony Scott's “Man on Fire” seems more like it's based on the book than the previous film. His “Pelham 123” seems more based on the original movie than the book. That's too bad because the original “Pelham” film is a near perfect thriller and uniquely so. In fact, it's literally my favorite film from 1974. Ironically, the book itself is a bit lackluster. It's not bad, but there are such a wide array of characters, that there's no true “hero” since the protagonists are a collective. It feels more like an academic case study of how the New York subway system works and how law enforcement is woven into it. Regardless, it's a good blueprint for a great movie.

The original movie did a fantastic job of streamlining the story into an almost mano-a-mano showdown without sacrificing any supporting characters, who indeed are much more vividly realized and rotate throughout the film very effectively with their eclectic personalities. Scott's remake attempts the same thing, but we never really get to know many of the characters and, the ones we do, we don't really get invested in. That's a pretty crucial aspect for a film about hostages. Even the supporting terrorists are kind of anonymous gunmen in the new version.

Let's be fair about this, though, and take the original out of the equation to eliminate any unfair comparisons and judge Scott's remake as a stand alone piece. One may be more sympathetic to its shortcomings if they're unaware it had been done before (and successfully). This is not a shot-for-shot remake and there are a tremendous amount of changes, but they hinder the film more than they help it.

One example is John Travolta's role as the lead villain. It's very oddly written and even more oddly performed. He's clearly a psychopath, but he (the character, I mean) is performing for the sake of misdirection. The hijacking scheme is a smokescreen for manipulating the market. So, “Ryder” (as he's called in the film) is not only conning law enforcement, he's also conning his cohorts. Consequently, the audience is uncertain as to what kind of bad guy this really is. He seems to really delight in killing his hostages, but he blames their deaths on everyone other than him. He goes from laughing and treating the matter very nonchalantly to flying into fits of rage like a child throwing a tantrum. Also, he's an investment banker who kills people. I'm sure that's not outside of the realm of possibility, but it feels odd here, because with his handlebar mustache, neck tattoos, and scrappy clothes, he looks and acts more like a violent criminal than a white collar one. You don't have to compare his character to Robert Shaw's in order to spot the flaws.

These, of course, are mostly complaints about the writing, not the directing. So, how does Tony Scott do in the telling this (flawed) story? It's certainly watchable. And, even though it's largely forgettable, it is still entertaining for the most part. I think the biggest criticism I have about Scott's direction here is that it feels a bit like a paycheck project that he just phoned in. Not much of his usual nuance or, for that matter, joy comes across. Consider “The Last Boy Scout.” That was a film that it's rumored made everyone involved with it miserable throughout its production. Yet, for whatever reason, it transcends its difficulties and feels like a joyride. For all I know, “The Taking of Pelham 123” was great fun to make. It doesn't feel like it, though. In fact, this is possibly Tony Scott's weakest film. Unfortunately, it's not just because it's a remake.

Tony Scott Retrospective: “Deja Vu” (2006)

“Deja Vu” walks a precarious tightrope. The first three quarters of the film require the viewer to think and pay close attention as the characters not only gradually uncover the mystery they're trying to solve, but how the method by which they're trying to solve it works. It's not too difficult to keep up with, but the playing field does have a detailed and unique set of “rules” that the viewer has to keep in mind to understand what's going on. Then, in the last half hour, the story shifts and the audience inadvertently has to disengage the scrutinous part of their brain in order to accept all that happens in the final act. It's like reading a dissertation about writing and overlooking all the spelling and grammatical errors in order to enjoy the final summation. In short, to appreciate “Deja Vu” the viewer has to pay attention to the details in the set-up and then just accept everything at face value for the pay-off. Another way to put it is: one's enjoyment of “Deja Vu” is in direct proportion to one's suspension of disbelief.

This is not necessarily a bad thing. I've always been the type of filmgoer that can appreciate a profound complex thoughtful arthouse piece every bit as much as a mindless goofy nonsensical special effects exhibition piece so long as they both succeed admirably in what they're trying to accomplish. That distinction comes in handy when watching a movie like “Deja Vu” because I can switch gears whenever I need to. In all honesty, though, I have seen plenty of movies that have had similar dichotomies that I found completely unforgivable. Not so with “Deja Vu” and I think that has to be because of Tony Scott.

Not to say I'm biased (although I probably am), but he just makes the film so damn watchable. For one thing, Denzel Washington (working with Scott for the third time here) can make an audience swallow just about anything with his charm and determination. Second, the aesthetics of the film are so compelling. The plot's sales pitch relies on the technology being presented and the surveillance workspace with its suspended translucent monitors, wheeled joysticks, and sexy sound effects really seal the deal. Best of all, the technology allows the film to indulge in one of the most clever car chases in film history as one car in the present pursues another car in the past, but time is ticking in both timelines and if the pursuer loses the suspect, all is lost. It's a nail-biting action sequence because of what's at stake, not merely because of the high speeds and close calls.

Rumor has it the screenwriters originally composed a more airtight script that accounted for a variety of time travel paradoxes. If that's true, I'd like to read it some day. Tony Scott (with a history of sacrificing realism for the sake of spectacle) made changes to the story that created plotholes big enough to drive a Humvee through (which Denzel literally does). This is probably why the film went largely unseen and was forgotten quickly after its release. However, the film does have a lot more character development, humanity, and pathos than necessary to tell the story. And if Tony Scott could only effectively inject those things into the story at the cost of the screenwriters' original vision, then it was worth it.

So, while you do have to be in the specific mindset of a “cerebral no-brainer” in order to fully appreciate “Deja Vu,” the film accomplishes what Tony Scott does best: Entertain. Think of it as getting into a Humvee with somebody chasing somebody in the past and driver simply tells you, “Don't ask questions, just enjoy the ride.”

Tony Scott Retrospective: “Domino” (2005)

This is probably last “Great” movie Tony Scott made. Not to say his remaining films are bad, because they're not. By “Great” I mean big, bold, loud, and outrageous in the way only Tony Scott could do it (which is why I put “Great” in quotes and capitalized it). In fact, one could say that his style's evolution as a filmmaker was building to this and peaked with “Domino.” Anything more full-throttle would be tremendous overkill. He really gets right to the brink where it's almost unwatchable, but the film can't help to be equal parts charming and mesmerizing in the midst of its grit, bite, and decadence.

The quick cuts, flashes, blurs, and pacing are meant to give the impression of a cocaine binge. To approach telling this story any other way would probably be ineffective. The casting is also very crucial to the film's success and this ensemble is impeccable. It must've been a tough challenge since these characters are so vividly realized and exceptionally unique. On top of that, they need to have the right chemistry to make it work. I'm not just talking about the three principle leads, either. The supporting characters have to fit perfectly into the puzzle as well. Impressively, every actor in every role meets this challenging criteria perfectly.

This must have been a fun movie to make, too. Everybody really shines onscreen, even in the smallest role. Jerry Springer (yes, that Jerry Springer) looks like he's trying to stifle a smile in his brief scene. Christopher Walken seems to be poking fun at himself by pretty much just doing an impression of Christopher Walken. Even more so, Ian Ziering and Brian Austin Green (literally playing themselves) are tremendous good sports in emulating every cynical prejudice the public might have of them. It's also great to see Dabney Coleman back in the type of role his played so perfectly throughout the 80's. And leave to Jacqueline Bisset to provide the anomaly of elegance and class by playing it cool and haughty. Then, just when you thought it couldn't get any crazier, here comes Tom Waits.

Put all this together and it's a recipe for disaster. But, in a good way. It's safe to say no other director could have handled all these ingredients so perfectly. The only drawback is that one has to be in the right mood to watch “Domino,” but that's just because one has to keep up. Otherwise, it will leave the viewer in the dust wondering what happened. Tony Scott's best movies feel like rides and this is by far Mr. Tone's Wildest Ride.

Tony Scott Retrospective: “Man on Fire” (2004)

Tony Scott returns to Denzel Washington as his leading man, who will remain his leading man in three out of his four remaining films. I've always wondered about their connection and if it was just a professional one or if their relationship was deeply personal as well. Either way, you can see why Tony Scott was metaphorically married to Mr. Washington after this film. “Man on Fire” is Scott's most complex character study (with the possible exception of “Domino,” yet to come) and he doesn't hold back on the dark places he goes with Denzel's character.

You can see Scott employ some of the visual tactics began in “The Fan” with Robert DeNiro's character's descent into madness. Washington's Creasy is of equally scorched-earth caliber, but with a motive driven by love. Perhaps casting Denzel Washington as Creasy was the best way to make the character not only sympathetic, but likable. A great deal is spent on developing the relationship between Creasy and Pita, the young girl he's hired to protect. For the first 45 minutes of the movie, that story arc itself makes for a sufficiently entertaining film. That's what makes Pita's kidnapping so devastating and why Creasy's unrelenting quest for revenge has us fully on board.

The camera twitches and flashes in the moments Creasy's rage is inflamed, making scenes already unsettling even more so. As Creasy works his way up the chain of bad guys, his tactics of torture, humiliation, and execution escalate as well. The tension is a mixture of urgency for Creasy to have his vengeance seen to completion as well as our borderline sympathy for the villains he zealously exterminates. In some cases, this style of filmmaking overwhelms the viewer's experience, but I think that may actually be the point. This film is not meant to be endured comfortably.

Tony Scott's somewhat superfluous use of subtitles can be distracting at times (particularly when it's dictation of English dialogue versus a translation of Spanish). Since the film has a lot of Spanish in it, he didn't want all of that conversation merely superimposed over the bottom of the screen, so he made it flow through the shots as it's spoken. I suppose he liked it so much, he didn't want the English-speaking scenes to feel neglected. I didn't care for it the first time I saw the film, but I've gotten used to it in subsequent viewings and have just accepted it as appropriate emphasis in the scenes it appears. Scott uses a similar tactic in the aforementioned “Domino” with much better effect, so it's good he had this movie to experiment with. Much like he had the love-fueled rampage set in Mexico “Revenge” to experiment with before making this amped-up version of a similar formula.

Tony Scott had originally wanted this to be the follow-up piece to his debut film “The Hunger” and it's interesting he had such perseverance to the project to see it through some 20 years later. Maybe that's what makes Creasy's fixation on his mission so believable. In that context, the scene where Creasy attempts suicide is all the more haunting given Tony Scott killed himself less than 10 years later. Perhaps Creasy's demons are not too far off from Tony Scott's and as such, it could be said Tony Scott effectively lives on in this film. I don't think Tony Scott would mind being remembered for “Man on Fire” given how honest it is.

Tony Scott Retrospective: “Spy Game” (2001)

“Spy Game” is Tony Scott's first grown-up movie. That's not to say his previous flicks can only be appreciated by the young or the immature, but those films are mostly entertainment for its own sake. “Spy Game” has its share of car chases and shoot outs, but it stands apart from Scott's other work for the reason Robert Redford was drawn to the project in the first place: “It's a thinking man's action picture.”

Like any good spy story, it's a puzzle the audience slowly puts together, but not so convoluted that it's a challenge to follow. There's a lot going on here that has to be organized and disseminated without being dull or tedious. Tony Scott shines in how he makes scenes where people are talking on the phone or looking through files feel like action set pieces. It's also his first demonstration of using suspense and tension with subtleties because the characters have to play it cool as they simultaneously try to find things out while keeping their own secrets. Tony Scott said he tried to make the scenes in the CIA conference room feel like a high-stakes poker game.

Also, because the film is so dialogue-heavy, Scott really flexes his muscles in directing actors to act. The performances in his other films are all sound, so he clearly knows how to extract great acting. In a film like “Spy Game,” though, it's a bit more delicate because the characters have to be, not just convincing, but intriguing. The complexity of the players has to really show through particularly because, as I said before, they're trying to reveal as little as possible.

Scott also plays around a lot with cameras and cinematography in this one. In probably the most pivotal scene in the movie, Robert Redford and Brad Pitt have a tense exchange on a circular rooftop. They verbally spar, not knowing if they can rely on each other as the camera rotates the perimeter of their arena. The scene was so expensive to shoot, Scott paid for the helicopter rental out of his own pocket to do it right. Totally worth it.

With the exception of “The Hunger” (and possibly “The Fan”), every one of Tony Scott's films could predominantly be labeled as an action flick. “Spy Game” fits into that category as well, but it exhibits a real adept filmmaker executing a mature, thoughtful, and nuanced movie that would be lost on the frivolous and the mundane. It's ambitious for Scott to pick material that doesn't necessarily appeal to the masses. Don't get me wrong, I love his more mindless, over-the-top, rollercoaster pictures, but “Spy Game” makes me wish he would've tried his hand at a few more this smart.

Tony Scott Retrospective: “Enemy of the State” (1998)

With the exception of “Unstoppable,” Tony Scott's remaining films all have a bit of a “spy” slant to them, starting with this one. I like to think it's because Scott really found his calling with “Enemy of the State.” By that I mean this is the type of film his style and atmosphere (and possibly personal tastes) really suit best. This is a near perfect film in the sense of achieving the goals it sets for itself. It's exciting, it's funny, it's clever, it's unpredictable, it's well-acted (which is no surprise with its extensive top-level cast all at their best), and feels original (which is especially impressive given it pays homage to many other films that inspired it).

“Enemy of the State” also shows that, despite being pigeon-holed as an action director (especially due to his frequent collaborating with Producer Jerry Bruckheimer), he will not settle for recycling the same old stuff. For instance, this film has some of the most superlative food chases I've ever seen. Foot chases are hard to do well and, I lost count, but there have to be about five of them here and they're heart-pounding as hell. Also, with that much running around, you'd think the audience would get as tired of it as the characters, but that's not the case. They're running down alleyways, up staircases, upon rooftops, in the middle of the street, and even across the sides of balconies and through tunnels under the city. Whew! Yet each one feels, not only fresh, but essential to the story.

Even with all that, Tony Scott still fits in a couple car chases that are unique in their own right. One takes place between two moving trains and another contains a pivotal interrogation scene at high speeds. Wow! The latter of those actually serves as one of the greatest red herrings in motion picture history. If you haven't seen “Enemy of the State,” skip the next paragraph, because I don't want to ruin it for you.

Early on, the audience is informed of a mysterious private investigator by the name of Brill. It's obvious we will eventually meet this character and that he will probably be Dean, the lead character's, savior. When the time comes for Brill to make an entrance, in walks Gabriel Byrne. Awesome! I love Gabriel Byrne and he's perfect as this character we've heard so much about. In literally less than three minutes, we find out Gabriel Byrne is not Brill, but in fact somebody sent to pose as Brill in order to entrap Dean. We find this out from the real Brill, played by Gene Hackman, who is an even better choice to play the character. I was blown away by this misdirection because when an actor of Byrne's caliber shows up, you expect them to play a major role. Whatever disappointment I felt that Byrne was not actually Brill was completely eradicated by how impressed I was by that trick on the audience. Well done, Mr. Scott. That could very well be your finest moment.

There's almost too much to unpack here as to how satisfying this movie is and on how many levels. The mark of any good movie is how well it holds up after multiple viewings and that's especially true of comedy and horror because the effectiveness of those genres often rely upon the element of surprise. That's also true for thrillers, particularly ones like this with twists and turns and tricks and double-crosses. But, I can never watch this movie enough. Even though it's quite familiar to me, it never loses its edge because I'm always in awe of its craftsmanship and presentation. Can't say that this is Tony Scott's best movie, but I can say it's my own personal favorite.

Tony Scott Retrospective: “The Fan” (1996)

This movie is a bit perplexing. Even the details behind it getting made are befuddling. It's based on a novel and I've read the novel. It's decent. Not bad, held my attention, entertaining enough, but not by any means innovative, original, profound, nor (for that matter) memorable. As far as I know, it wasn't a best-seller, either. None of that in itself is unusual, but what is unusual is there seemed to be a lot of weight behind getting it made. Apparently, all kinds of actors were fighting to play the title role. Brad Pitt, Al Pacino, Jack Nicholson, and even Wesley Snipes all were reportedly vying for it. None other than Robert DeNiro won the role. Not surprising, given his clout (not to mention his extended resume of playing intimidating psychopaths). I'm curious what it was about the script (or novel) that drew him to the project. As I said, he'd played plenty of psychopaths before, so this role wasn't neither new for him, nor was it challenging. And the source material wasn't by any means a built-in money-maker, but nonetheless, enough Hollywood heavies wanted it to get made and so it did.

In any case, DeNiro's attachment to the project was what brought Tony Scott to it. Scott always wanted to work with DeNiro and this was his chance. He even turned down the opportunity to direct “The Rock” to do “The Fan,” which is funny because I've always considered Michael Bay (who ended up directing “The Rock”) a Tony Scott wannabe. Ironically, “The Rock” turned out to be a much more satisfying flick (at least by the standards that Tony Scott's usually measured by). That's probably because Tony Scott's interest in the project seemed to extend only as far as DeNiro's involvement.

Scott didn't have much interest in baseball in general, in many cases ignoring the input of technical adviser Cal Ripken while making the film. Nevertheless, the baseball stuff comes across as convincingly authentic. The psychotic stuff, not as much. That's neither Scott's fault nor DeNiro's, it's partly the script's and partly the editor's. The movie opens with an odd poem recited by the star, which is unnecessary and kinda awkward. After that, the first half of the film actually has a good rhythm with DeNiro's character's life gradually falling apart alongside Snipes' character's career falling apart. But some parts are confusing because they're neither explained nor developed. For instance, there are many lines of dialogue that are ambiguous because we're not sure if DeNiro is lying, telling the truth, or just plain crazy.

It's a shame, because there are many elements of the film that work perfectly. The notion of parents overreacting at little league games escalating to domestic scuffles has been done before, but I don't believe I've ever seen it as unsettling and disturbing as in this movie. The villain's first murder is grisly, but in an effectively understated way. Hans Zimmer's score blends perfectly with remixes of Nine Inch Nails, creating a volatile atmosphere even in scenes where little is happening. Generally speaking, the film maintains okay until DeNiro kidnaps Snipes' son. Ironically, that's when it should get more intense, but it oddly boils down to Snipes literally having to hit a home run to save his son. Many baseball movies climax with our hero having to hit a home run, but not many psychological thrillers do. Probably the worst oversight, though, is there are lots of opportunities to explore the perils of fame, wealth, sportsmanship, family, and personal passions further, but they only merely touch on them.

Criticisms aside, this film does still hold a special place in my heart. One main takeaway for me is that Wesley Snipes is a much better actor than most people give him credit for. Watch how he plays the scene when his character first starts to realize DeNiro may actually be a threat instead of a fan. Another is my own realization that any Tony Scott movie is worth watching. There's an insightful line by Snipes about sports fans where he observes, “They don't understand that you're the same person when you're hitting or not.” This movie shows that even when Tony Scott's not at his best, he's still pretty good.

Tony Scott Retrospective: “Crimson Tide” (1995)

An early scene in “Crimson Tide” features supporting characters quizzing each other on submarine movies just before boarding their own submarine. It's interesting how the submarine movie seems to be its own genre. Sure, it tends to be a subcategory of war movies (usually World War II), but still – you don't often hear “plane movies” or “tank movies” as classifications of their own under the subject of war or military flicks. I suppose that's because a submarine is a unique setting (claustrophobic and unscenic, without even any windows) and thus a tougher film to make. As an action movie (like most war movies are), setting it in a submarine relies on dialogue and tension and most of the literal “action” is basically in slow-motion with metallic behemoths trying to dodge each other's torpedoes.

Tony Scott's “Crimson Tide,” of course, has its share of scenes like that (and done well), but the real action of the picture has to do with the exchange of words and more the threat of violence than the actual act. It's more philosophical than most submarine movies and a great deal of its appeal is based on the powerhouse performances of Gene Hackman and Denzel Washington (in his first of five leading roles in Tony Scott's remaining nine feature films) playing their parts like a tennis match that gradually escalates from friendly to cataclysmic. It's a smarter film than one would expect and challenges the audience to a certain extent in regards to questions of morality, duty, and even existentialism.

Tony Scott employs his usual tactics of sweat, smoke, and combining hot and cold lighting, but it doesn't feel redundant or derivative here. I don't know if the set actually moved or the camera work makes it seem like its moving, but the viewer never doubts the characters are in a working submarine and, when they're in trouble, you really feel it. When they're sinking, you feel the pressure. When they're evading, you feel the tension. When they're cut off, you feel the isolation. This is another case of the talent of the director being integral to the final product and, indeed, the film was nominated for an Academy Award for “Best Editing” (and rightfully so). It was beaten by “Apollo 13,” which is interesting considering a space capsule movie is not too far removed from a submarine movie, conceptually.

Ironically, I think the only reason “Crimson Tide” didn't receive higher accolades is because it was made after the Cold War was over. Not only were the Russians not scary adversaries in 1995, but nuclear war was a very unrealistic threat. Thus “Crimson Tide” felt about as escapist as Science Fiction. Had this film been made 30 years earlier (and made the way it is by Mr. Scott), it would've terrified audiences, gotten under their skin, and been a must-see for anyone who could stomach it. In other words, “Crimson Tide” would've been the kind of classic submarine film mentioned alongside the films the supporting characters reference in it.

Tony Scott Retrospective: “True Romance” (1993)

“True Romance” was the first screenplay Quentin Tarantino ever wrote (well, to completion, anyway) and, if things had gone his way, it would have been the first movie he ever directed. Cruel as Hollywood is, he couldn't raise the money to direct it, so he sold the script in order to fund what would be his “next” first movie. It was sold to some production company that specialized in B-movies and was set to be directed by William Lustig. Through a fateful set of circumstances, Tarantino was friends with a woman who was working for Tony Scott on “The Last Boy Scout” and she got him onto the set to meet Tony Scott. Tony was interested in what Quentin was working on (at that time, the screenplay for “Reservoir Dogs”) and QT gave TS the scripts for both “Reservoir Dogs” and “True Romance,” both of which Tony read on the plane ride home after completing photography on “The Last Boy Scout.”

Scott fell in love. He called Tarantino and said he wanted to shoot both scripts. Tarantino gave him the bad news that “Reservoir Dogs” was off-limits because it was going to be his own directorial debut and “True Romance” had already been sold. Undeterred, Tony Scott took it upon himself to commandeer the rights to “True Romance” and, I don't know if it was difficult or easy (either way, it probably wasn't cheap), but he obviously succeeded. Whatever the effort, it must have been worth it, because Tony Scott's enthusiasm for this project really shows in the final results. Tarantino himself remarked, “Tony had the love and the passion for it that it needed.”

Tarantino's script was pretty over the top to begin with and Tony Scott did stay pretty loyal to it in general (not so much the ending, but more on that later), but wherever Scott had artistic license, he really went overboard. For instance, in the scene where Clarence confronts Drexl and they fight it out, it was originally set at Drexl's apartment. It's just Drexl and Marty and three stoned hookers hanging out eating Chinese food and watching “The Mack.” In the film, it still may technically be Drexl's apartment, but it more closely resembles a night club. There's techno music blaring, colored lighting, dancing girls, a pool table and, for some reason, fish tanks on shelves from floor to ceiling. No reason to have any of that in there other than pure spectacle.

Another outrageous scene that originally was just there to further the plot: In the original script, when Clarence calls Dick Ritchie to inform him he's coming to L.A. with his new wife, they call from a hotel room. In the film, they're at a roadside phonebooth and decide to have sex in it while a confused Dick Ritchie sits on a toilet.

In L.A., when our heroes meet with Elliot Blitzer to discuss the cocaine deal, Tarantino originally set it at a zoo. Tony Scott decided to hold the discussion on a roller coaster because he thought it fit in better with the intensity of the story. It definitely did.

To read the famous “Sicilian scene” in Tarantino's script, it comes across as dead serious. Tony Scott was not only brave, but counter-intuitive to have Christopher Walken and Dennis Hopper laugh in each other's faces as the scene escalates, making it the superlative scene in a film full of great scenes.

Tony Scott decided to have Alabama's confession to Clarence set on the walkway of a billboard outside of his apartment to make the characters seem more vulnerable and exposed. He had Clifford Woorley's trailer set right next to train tracks to create additional tension in the two scenes that occur at his homestead. Instead of a red Mustang, Clarence drives a purple Cadillac (because what else would a die hard Elvis fan drive). Scott thought it better to have the ruthless enforcer Virgil flirt with Alabama before beating her senseless. He inserted the scene where our lovebirds get matching tattoos. Elliot getting a blow job in the speeding Porsche was his idea, as was the honeybear bong for Brad Pitt's stoner character, and – of course – Tony Scott decided, after all this, that his lead characters had to live.

Tarantino was not involved in the production of “True Romance,” but he'd heard Scott wanted to change the ending and he challenged Scott on it. The director assured the screenwriter of two things: Number one, he would shoot both endings and decide which worked better. Number two, if he did decide to have Clarence and Alabama survive, it wouldn't be for the audience's sake, it would be for the characters' sake. Ultimately, Scott did opt to have Clarence and Alabama not only live, but get away with it. Tarantino wasn't happy with the final decision, but when he saw Tony Scott's version of his own vision, he changed his mind. “I think Tony's ending is better for the movie Tony made,” he said. “He did what a director's supposed to do: He made the material his own.” If that's not true love, what is?

Tony Scott Retrospective: “The Last Boy Scout” (1991)

This movie is a small miracle. It wouldn't appear so at first glance, but by all accounts, it was a nightmare to make and yet it somehow rises above itself. Roger Ebert's review of it is particularly insightful in that he points out how cynical, vicious, crude, and misogynistic the film is yet manages to still succeed as a well-crafted piece of entertainment.

For starters, the film was a war of egos. Tony Scott was a hot director and probably just starting to realize studios weren't going to rein him in or question his decisions since he'd demonstrated time and again he could rake in the millions. Damon Wayans was an up-and-coming star, just beginning to break through from his audience-pleasing characters on the TV show “In Living Color.” Bruce Willis had proven himself as a bankable action hero with the one-two punch of the first two “Die Hard” movies and Shane Black had proven the same as a writer with the first two “Lethal Weapon” movies. On top of all that, Joel Silver had produced both of those franchises and was primed to produce “The Last Boy Scout” as well. At the time, the script had sold for a record-breaking amount, so a lot was riding on this.

Needless to say, all of these men at the top of their game felt pretty powerful and had different ideas and none of them agreed on anything. Usually, that's a recipe for disaster because, even if morale is merely low on a film set, the results tend to come across in the finished product. In this case, morale wasn't simply low, the writers, directors, producers, and co-stars were at each other's throats. Yet, they all managed to pull it off. As Roger Ebert points out in his aforementioned review, “It is some kind of tribute to Tony Scott...that this material survives its own complete cynicism and somehow actually works.”

It's true. They really made magic out of the mess. Even though the overall theme is grim and defeatist, there are some great laughs. The plot is clever enough to be unpredictable. Although no one got along, the performances are strong and the chemistry is great. There are two back-to-back car chases that are both crucial to the plot as well as surprisingly unique (the first car chase literally has both cars drive side-by-side down a cliff). There are no less than four scenes where you wonder how the hell our heroes are gonna get outta this, but they do - and without “cheating” or relying on deus ex machina. Under all those circumstances, this film is exceptional.

While it was undoubtedly a miserable experience for Tony Scott, it definitely made him a better filmmaker. If nothing else, he met his wife Donna on this movie. Plus, his follow-up film was “True Romance,” which Scott - for a while, at least - considered his best work. His contempt for “The Last Boy Scout” shows through in “True Romance” in certain places. For one, the character of fictional film producer Lee Donowitz was modeled (quite obviously, shamelessly, and unkindly) after Joel Silver. Tony remarked, “Joel didn't talk to me for a long time after that.” In any case, “The Last Boy Scout” demonstrates what Chili Palmer said in the film “Get Shorty” about directors: “Sometimes you do your best work when you got a gun to your head.”

Tony Scott Retrospective: “Days of Thunder” (1990)

There are very few things I care less about than NASCAR racing. That's not to say I hate it or I think it's stupid, it's just something that doesn't matter to me at all. If all traces of NASCAR were obliterated instantaneously, I doubt it would have any affect on my life one way or the other (unless its absence somehow effected the economy or something). It is a great testament to the directing prowess of Tony Scott that this movie could actually get me to care (at least for 107 minutes).

A lot of that credit, of course, has to go towards the screenplay. The film is a very effective introductory primer to racing. The story begins with the construction of the race car itself. Like, literally the empty frame of the car in a garage with Robert Duvall talking to it like a soon-to-be father talking to his wife's pregnant belly. The relationship between Robert Duvall's mechanic and Tom Cruise's driver is brilliantly set up in that the two of them, both good at what they do, don't fully understand what the other one does. They start off butting heads, of course, which leads to some relatively philosophical debates you wouldn't expect to find in a racing movie. For instance, which is most crucial in a race? The performance of the driver or the performance of the vehicle? The answer, of course, is: Neither, it's the connection between the two. Explanations like this are what get us invested in the story.

Midway through the film, after a serious wreck, Nicole Kidman is introduced as a doctor (and the voice of reason) who bluntly delivers the moral of the story to a heretofore confident Cruise: “Control is an illusion.” This, of course, rattles Tom Cruise's character and he has to integrate these new realizations into his racing without it (literally) slowing him down. If all this sounds familiar, it's because it's the basically the same formula as Tony Scott's “Top Gun.”

Like “Top Gun,” the footage and editing of the action sequences are amazing in their ability to present chaos in a way that definitely feels chaotic, but not confusing. That's hard to do. I don't know if they had dozens of cameras in a variety of places (including the participating race cars) filming at the same time or if they just shot the same race over and over and somehow managed to maintain continuity. Neither would surprise me and both are equally impressive.

Impressive as the racing scenes are, though, Tony Scott shows again he's not merely an action director. Rather than simply trying to impress us with the spectacle of fast cars going fast (like the films “Le Mans” and “Grand Prix” did), we're gently sucked into a story about the addictiveness of competition and self-preservation vs. glory. These characters aren't very complicated or, for that matter, interesting outside of their familiarity as caricatures, but we care what happens nonetheless because we've gone with them on this journey. From the construction of the car to its crossing of the finish line and all the speedbumps in between. You don't hafta care about NASCAR to care about this story because that's not just racing. That's life.

Tony Scott Retrospective: “Revenge” (1990)

Tony Scott was a hot commodity in Hollywood after his one-two punch of “Top Gun” and “Beverly Hills Cop II” and “Revenge” was an interesting follow-up film for him. He must have been delighted at being able to flex his directing muscles in a single film that transcends so many genres.

“Revenge” opens up as almost an epilogue to “Top Gun” with an F-14 stunt flying over the desert. Instead of a regular action picture, after that, the film turns into a light drama, then a bit of a gangster flick, romance, erotic thriller, western, film noir, addiction struggle, tragedy, and, of course, vengeance. The amazing thing is all of these elements not only work, but blend together seamlessly without coming across as a film with an identity crisis.

A great deal of the film's success comes from the performances of the supporting characters. They come in and out of the picture as needed and adjust the atmosphere accordingly. We start off with Jesse Corti as the protagonist's best friend, who offers him sound advice at a time he needs it and is literally hung up on. Replacing him in the story is Joaquin Martinez, who literally saves J's life and brings him back from the dead. When they part ways, instead of giving our hero advice, he gives him a knife. Literally in the same scene, we meet the cowboy played by James Gammon, who serves mostly as a chauffeur for the leading man, but even more effectively as an enabler and, eventually and unknowingly, a benefactor.

Conveniently, this is when Miguel Ferrer shows up, probably in the movie's biggest standout role. Assisted by John Leguizamo (in a nearly mute, but nevertheless, strong performance), the three of them effectively try to keep order in the chaos of a spree of vengeance along the Mexican border. Ferrer's character treats this mission as an amusing game rather than matters of life and death. He's great fun to watch. All the while, Madeleine Stowe languishes away in a brothel, doped up on forced heroin doses given, almost sympathetically, by an androgynous guardian angel played by Luis de Icaza. Peppered throughout the film are the villain's henchmen, at varying degrees of sliminess, many of whom Kevin Costner kills off one by one with increasing indifference.

Anthony Quinn embraces his role as the main bad guy with his usual zeal. He imperceptibly flips between charming and lovable to cold and frightening moment by moment. All throughout the film, his character remains strangely sympathetic and almost justified. By the end of the story, we're not sure we want him to lose. This is punctuated by what he says to Costner when they finally face off at the end: “Perhaps we both deserve to die.”

This may be Tony Scott's most picturesque film in that he really chews up the scenery of Mexico, digging into the dark and dirty underbelly of that country's subculture. Dirt sticks to sweat, rooms are lit by an excessive amount of candles, a feeling of distrust and uncertainty permeates the film, and anyone could die at any time (and many do). It's easy to see why Quentin Tarantino called this Tony Scott's “masterpiece.” I wouldn't say it's Tony Scott's best film, but it's definitely his most passionate.

Tony Scott Retrospective: “Beverly Hills Cop II” (1987)

The first “Beverly Hills Cop” was originally conceived as an action piece for Sylvester Stallone. A renegade cop from Detroit teaches a bunch of cushy California cops hung up on rules how to be tough. It's the perfect formula for an action picture, really. However, Stallone's outrageous demands and constant rewrites eventually had him drop out. Paramount decided to take a chance on their exponentially rising star Eddie Murphy in what would be his first leading role in a motion picture. When Murphy signed on (turning down a supporting role in “Ghostbusters” for this opportunity), the film immediately pivoted to more of a comedy. The crucial action aspects remained and there were dramatic moments, but for all intents and purposes, “Beverly Hills Cop” was a comedy. It was also a huge hit, so a sequel was inevitable. Critics assumed it would be even more of a comedy than the first.

Eddie Murphy was at the height of his popularity in 1987 (his concert film “Raw” came out the same year) and “Beverly Hills Cop II” was the first film he had a hand in writing. Maybe it was his idea to up the action or maybe it was the studio's. Paramount just enjoyed the success from “Top Gun” the year before, so it's reasonable to assume producers Don Simpson and Jerry Bruckheimer felt they were onto something and thus brought their “Top Gun” director on to helm “Beverly Hills Cop II” and go with the vision of it being more of an action flick.

To be fair, “Beverly Hills Cop II” is probably the closest thing to a comedy Tony Scott ever made, but it's definitely heavier on the action and lighter on the comedy than its predecessor. Critics didn't generally care for it, but audiences sure did. It not only had the biggest opening weekend of the year, but it was also the top-grossing film in 1987. Impressive for an R-rated film at that time. Every top-grossing film in the 80's before that was rated PG (including “Top Gun” the year before). Tony Scott demonstrated he was no mere one-hit wonder.

The brilliance of “Cop II” is it repeats a number of elements that worked well in the first one without coming across as a retread. Both films begin with Axel Foley undercover as a fast-talking huckster. When a close friend of his is shot, he invites himself into the Beverly Hills investigation where he is not wanted, but sorely needed. He cons his way in and out of sticky situations by creating (hysterically funny) characters on the fly and flashing his badge so people can't get a good look at it, but conveniently accept him as an authority figure. Rosewood and Taggart sit in a parked car and pass the time with pithy conversation akin to an old married couple. Our heroes gratuitously visit a strip club, there's a car chase with a big rig destroying cars while a toe-tapping Pointer Sisters song plays in the background, and there's a big shoot out at the end where the protagonists are out-manned and out-gunned but nevertheless prevail. Yet somehow, all these reoccurrences feel fresh rather than recycled. I put the credit almost solely with Tony Scott's direction. This is the only sequel he directed, but I often wonder what other franchises he might have improved upon if given the chance.

It's a great tragedy that “Beverly Hills Cop III” failed to even come close, but let's not get into that. The first two are great companion pieces and that's good enough for me. Incidentally, Stallone took his ideas for the original “Beverly Hills Cop” and made the schlocky action pic “Cobra.” Midway through “Beverly Hills Cop II,” Axel Foley ogles a “Cobra” poster with slightly bemused contempt. I often wonder if this was a personal dig at Stallone from Tony Scott. It's entirely possible, given that Stallone's wife at the time, Brigitte Nielsen, not only starred in “Beverly Hills Cop II,” but allegedly had an affair with Tony Scott during filming. Man, if Tony Scott wasn't a bad ass before, he certainly was by then.

Tony Scott Retrospective: “Top Gun” (1986)

Whenever my dad would upgrade his entertainment system, the movie he would test drive it with was always “Top Gun.” Starting with the gentle pitter-patter of Harold Faltermeyer's synthesized drum machine over the Paramount Pictures logo, it segues into the golden dawn on the deck of an aircraft carrier. Amidst the smoke and the flight deck crew's communication with hand signals, the music crescendos in sync with the warming up engines of the F-14's. Upon the firing of the jet's afterburners and takeoff, the soundtrack jolts into Kenny Loggins' “Danger Zone.” This combination of sights and sounds puts anyone's home movie-watching experience to the ultimate test. There is perhaps no more apropos introduction for a movie you're about to see than the opening credits of “Top Gun.”

There is probably also no greater U-turn in subject matter between a director's debut film and their subsequent sophomore opus than Tony Scott's pivot from “The Hunger” to “Top Gun.” Ironically, what the two films have most in common are the less-than-subtle homoerotic overtones. It's also interesting that “Top Gun” was Tony Scott's only PG-rated film in his entire career. He definitely was shooting for an R-rating, though. When you watch the backlit silhouetted love scene, it very obviously cuts away from when Kelly McGillis is just about to drop her top, as if we're watching a network television edit.

Perhaps that was either Tony Scott's joke on the audience, or an attempt to get the love scene axed altogether. Apparently, when the original cut was shown to test audiences, there was strong feedback that the film needed a sex scene. The reason the post-production footage was so dimly lit was a matter of necessity. Since both Tom Cruise and Kelly McGillis had moved onto other projects when it came time to film, they no longer looked like their characters from “Top Gun” anymore. Whatever the reason and regardless of how Scott felt about having to do it, this became the look of most of his subsequent love scenes in his future work (particularly in “True Romance”).

Despite this campy scene with its superfluous tongue probing and all, the film in general holds up pretty well, I'm always surprised by that when I revisit it. It does indeed ooze the 80's (especially with its music), but not to the point of being distracting or embarrassing. Also, credit is due for how influential this movie was. Not only did the Navy see a 500% increase in recruitment after its release (yikes), but this was the movie that paved the way for owning films on home video. Up until this time, VHS tapes were very expensive to own (literally like $100) because they were manufactured to be sold wholesale and thus most everyone was limited to renting any movies they wanted to watch. In the earlier years of VCR's, it was unexplored territory as to whether people wanted to watch any one movie often enough to justify owning it. The popularity of “Top Gun” caught Pepsi's attention and they said, “Hey, if you let us put a specially made commercial at the beginning of the video, we'll make them priced to own immediately upon release.” It was wildly successful and the rest is history.

“Top Gun” was the film that set the standard for Tony Scott's style (smoky sets and inexplicable sweating, for example) and was the one all his other movies were compared to. It was some time before people and advertisements stopped referring to Tony Scott as “the director of 'Top Gun.'” Regardless of Scott's additional great work, “Top Gun” will probably still be the movie for which he is most remembered 100 years from now. However, as a testament to just how huge this movie was, the same will probably also be said for Tom Cruise. That's one helluva movie. One that people will probably still be using to test their home theaters.

Tony Scott Retrospective: “The Hunger” (1983)

During my teenage years, when I was beginning to move from merely watching movies to actually seeing them, I started noticing directors and their particular signatures on the films they made. One of the first directors to stand out to me was Tony Scott. By the time I got to college, he had become one of the few directors whose films I would watch no matter what. Didn't need to see a trailer, didn't care what they were about, just wanted to see artist's craftsmanship. Needless to say, I was devastated when Tony Scott took his own life in 2012. As this year marks a decade since his untimely passing, I decided to take it upon myself to watch his entire feature library throughout the year and give my reactions to each accordingly.

Tony never did meet the critical success or audience reverence of his older brother Ridley, who actually got him into the business. Like most directors, Tony started off doing television commercials. As his talent, experience, and aspirations grew, obviously the next logical step was to move onto feature films. Always thinking big, Tony had his sights set on directing an adaptation of Anne Rice's hugely successful novel “Interview with the Vampire.” While that was not in production yet (and likely tied up with securing the rights), Whitley Strieber's vampire novel “The Hunger” was optioned by MGM and seeking a director. The producers originally wanted Alan Parker (having just directed Pink Floyd's “The Wall”), but Parker recommended Tony Scott, being a fan of his work in commercials.

Long story short: Tony Scott's “The Hunger” received a lukewarm (if not totally indifferent) reception from critics and audiences and vanished into obscurity. I would argue the film was ahead of its time and largely misunderstood. It did indeed eventually become a cult favorite amongst the “Emo” crowd. It is nothing if not an ambitious film and a bold debut.

Even for a vampire film, it is quite unconventional. Scott's visual style is something that has always made him stand out from other directors and you see a lot of the foundations here. He plays heavily with light, particularly the contrast of bright whites with shadows, usually coming from the side rather than above or straight on. We see a lot of dim rooms lit by the surrounding windows and often obscured by blinds, leaving a horizontal stripe configuration on the characters and backgrounds. This is, of course, emphasized by Scott's industrious use of smoke. In every scene, the light cuts through the haze, giving each scene a very ethereal quality. We also see Scott's use of color as a means of storytelling. The film has a predominantly cool palette of grays and blues, which makes the blood, when it flows, all the more stark and shocking. This film comes across more gory than it actually is because the blood clashes with the cold elegance of the film and, when the otherwise subdued and dignified vampires leap upon it like addicts seeking their lifeforce, the title of the film rings true.

As Tony Scott undoubtedly put a great deal of himself into this film, it's no wonder that the lackluster response led him back to the world of advertising. Luckily, producers Don Simpson and Jerry Bruckheimer were both fans of “The Hunger” and, upon seeing Tony Scott's SAAB commercial featuring a jet fighter, took a chance and optioned Tony Scott to direct “Top Gun.” That's for next time, though.

After the disappointed response from “The Hunger,” Scott vowed to never read any of his own press ever again. In that regard, “The Hunger” was a success because, while it's true Scott enjoyed a significant success in the 80's producing flashy, expensive, and loud blockbusters for studios, he still did things his own way. He did not pander to audiences or trends. He may have created a few, though, by always experimenting and pushing the boundaries. We have “The Hunger” to thank for that.