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.