My Bodyguard: Facing Up to the School Bully and Forging Friendships

Today's video review takes a look at the appealing 1980 sleeper hit My Bodyguard, which stars Chris Makepeace, Adam Baldwin, and Matt Dillon. The supporting cast is an interesting mix of screen veterans and stars-to-be.

If you can't see the video review below in your browser, click here to view it directly from the Cafe's YouTube channel.

Love in the 1970s: Avanti, The Goodbye Girl, and Harold and Maude

Lemmon and Mills = great chemistry.

Avanti! (1972)
Director: Billy Wilder   
Cast: Jack Lemmon, Juliet Mills, and Clive Revill.
One of Wilder’s last films stars Lemmon as an uptight American businessman who journeys to a small Italian town to retrieve the body of his father, who died in a car accident. To his surprise, Lemmon learns that his father was having an affair—secretly meeting his lover in the same hotel every August for the past ten years. Furthermore, Dad’s mistress died in the same accident and her daughter (Mills) shows up for the funeral. After a very leisurely opening, this quirky love story turns on the charm…helped immeasurably by the scenic setting, memorable music, the two leads, and Clive Revill’s delightful performance as a hotel manager who can solve any problem. Juliet Mills—Hayley's sister and John's daughter—also shines in a rare lead role (although it's a bit jarring to see the former star of TV's "Nanny and the Professor" go for a swim in the buff). The instantly hummable song “Sensa Fine” (translated as “Never Ending”) has been played in numerous films before and since, but it’s hard to imagine it being put to better use. The film’s title is Italian for “proceed,” the response given when someone requests to enter one’s room. It’s the same response you should offer if given an opportunity to see this delicious postcard from one of the cinema’s most versatile filmmakers. 

Dreyfus (and the back of Mason's head).

The Goodbye Girl (1977)
Director: Herbert Ross
Cast: Richard Dreyfuss, Marsha Mason, and Quinn Cummings.
Playwright Neil Simon penned this winning romantic comedy as a vehicle for his then-wife Marsha Mason. She plays the title character, a single mother recently jilted by her latest lover. To make matters worse, she learns that her NYC apartment has been subleased to Dreyfuss, a struggling actor. Once they reluctantly agree to share the flat, it’s only a matter of time before love blossoms. Simon wisely keeps sentiment to a minimum, while allowing his outwardly brash characters to reveal their inner insecurities. Mason is good, if a bit too theatrical, but Dreyfuss hits all the right notes in his Oscar-winning performance. Quinn Cummings, as Mason’s wise-beyond-her-years daughter, delivers most of Simon’s trademark zingers. She, Mason, Simon, and the film all earned Oscar nominations. David Gates, formerly of the rock group Bread, wrote and performed the memorable title tune, which peaked at #15 on the Billboard chart.

Harold and Maude (1971) 

Director: Hal Ashby

Cast: Ruth Gordon, Bud Cort, Vivian Pickles, and Charles Tyner.

Harold, a 20-year-old man obsessed with death, befriends and eventually falls in love with Maude, a 79-year-old woman with a zest for life. This offbeat blend of dark comedy and romance tries much hard to be quirky, which may account for its commercial failure when originally released. But it became a midnight movie favorite with college crowds by the late 1970s and has subsequently enjoyed status as a classic cult film. Ironically, the movie’s funniest scenes—Harold’s fake suicides and the blind dates arranged by his mother—don’t even involve Maude. Cort, looking as pale as humanly possible, and Gordon give likable performances, but director Ashby drags the film down with too many montages set to Cat Stevens songs. Harold’s Jaguar hearse rates among the cinema’s most memorable automobiles. Gordon essentially reprised her character in Clint Eastwood’s Every Which Way But Loose. A year earlier, Cort starred in the genuinely bizarre Brewster McCloud as a young man obsessed with building wings and taking flight in Houston's Astrodome—a plot with cult film potential written all over it, though the picture sank into obscurity.

31 Days of Halloween: Rosemary's Baby

A landmark film of the horror genre, Rosemary's Baby (1968) also marked Roman Polanski's U.S directorial debut. The film, a runaway hit on release, was the prototype that inspired the onslaught of big-budget "A" horror films that followed: The Exorcist, The Omen, etc.

In the tradition of Hitchcock, Polanski achieves his effects with little overt violence and gore but much finesse. Like Hitchcock, Polanski masterfully commandeers the emotions of his audience. Drawn into Rosemary's point of view and her growing alarm, the viewer becomes increasingly aware that something is very wrong but, like Rosemary, doesn't grasp exactly what has happened until the final scenes.

This suspense is propelled by a deliberate ambiguity that implies Rosemary's fright may have a rational explanation (women do have difficult pregnancies), that her fears may be paranoia-based (though related to an infamous Satanist, her neighbors could just be a pair of elderly oddballs). On the other hand, the storyline and action are such that the viewer has difficulty simply writing off Rosemary's anguish to imagination and coincidence. Equally ambiguous throughout much of the film are the majority of the characters. While Rosemary remains constant as the naive young wife, those around her are more enigmatic - from her ambitious actor husband and her intrusive neighbors to her wise and kindly old doctor. Cleverly, several of the most villainous characters are also the most comically eccentric.

The subtle intermingling of suspense with irony and humor is one of the film's distinctive qualities. A few unforgettable scenes: Rosemary (Mia Farrow) and her husband Guy (John Cassavetes) are having dinner with her friend Hutch (Maurice Evans) who describes the Bramford building's ghoulish history (including a pair of sisters who devoured children) as he carves lamb at the dinner table...a graphic and shocking suicide scene in front of the Bramford simultaneously introduces the Castevets: Minnie (Ruth Gordon), dressed and made up in the manner of an over-the-top Christmas tree, and Roman (Sidney Blackmer), clad as though vaudeville was still alive and well...and finally, when Rosemary sees her baby for the first time she, uncomprehending, shrieks, "What have you done to its eyes?" Roman Castevet adroitly responds, "He has his father's eyes"...

Another of the film's delights is its painstaking recreation of the time in which it was set, late 1965 to mid-1966. Costume designer Anthea Sylbert precisely captured that timeframe's contemporary look with Rosemary's short shift dresses (some with peter pan collars), a long and luxurious plaid skirt, red chiffon lounging pajamas. Rosemary has her blunt-cut pageboy snipped short by Vidal Sassoon, she relaxes at home reading Sammy Davis, Jr.'s book Yes, I Can, the Pope's visit to New York is glimpsed on TV, and Time Magazine's famous "Is God Dead?" cover is shown on a waiting room table.

The hand-picked supporting cast includes especially solid performances by Patsy Kelly and Ralph Bellamy. Uncredited but in an acknowledged key role is The Dakota, a famed gothic confection at 72nd and Central Park West. The Dakota starred as the Bramford, and exteriors were shot there. Because filming was not allowed inside, its interiors were recreated at Paramount. Significantly, the film begins and ends with aerial views of the building.

Roman Polanski deftly combined the trademark elements of his style (atmospheric location, psychological distress, irony, dark humor, an endangered and isolated protagonist), his penchant for meticulous craftsmanship and the high gloss afforded by Hollywood to create a masterpiece that has developed a legend all its own over the years...