Only now does it occur to me... EARTH GIRLS ARE EASY (1988)

Only now does it occur to me...  okay, bear with me here. As you may know, I derive great joy from analyzing/grasping at harebrained pop cultural narratives, rivalries, curiosities, and other ephemera. Today we'll be looking at "The Ground You Walk On" sequence from the classic 80's Sci-Fi/Comedy/Musical, EARTH GIRLS ARE EASY.

This song is of the classic "scorned lover" variety, as Geena Davis realizes that her doctor fiancé (Charles Rocket) has been cheating on her and proceeds to sing about it while she cartoonishly destroys his stuff. There's a lot of archetypal 1980s tasting notes here on display, from the "80s rule of pools" (if there is a pool present, a character will be pushed into it, flailing, in a zany comic moment)

 to a Pin Art executive toy being used to reenact "The Scream"

to the yuppie tableaux of using a golf club to smash a cologne shelf 

 

 and using a bowling ball (and a ramp made of skis––not a ski ramp!) to destroy a vintage PC.

But I'm digressing. None of this is why we are here. We're here for... Madonna.

First, I must note that EARTH GIRLS ARE EASY is co-written and co-starring "West Coast" Julie Brown, comedian, actress, and MTV personality. Madonna has always been one of Brown's favorite targets, culminating finally in the hour-long MEDUSA: DARE TO BE TRUTHFUL (1991), a vicious send-up of MADONNA: TRUTH OR DARE (1991). This prompted a bitter Madonna to send Ms. Brown the vaguely head-scratching Spite Gift of a half-drunk bottle of champagne (sensationally characterized by some as Madonna "sending her own spit in a champagne bottle"). This, however, being 1988, predates that bitter little tête-à-tête. 

Anyway, in the aforementioned Geena Davis "scorned lover" song, Geena also destroys the record collection of her betrothed. This happens to include the soundtrack album to WHO'S THAT GIRL––the weird, 1987 screwball Madonna flop––the cover of which is emblazoned with Madonna's image. 

The film then takes a moment––a real, lived-in moment––to allow Geena Davis to luxuriate on a couch and hurl Madonna into a fire.

I'm no stranger to some gentle Madonna Mockery (see also: my reviews of BODY OF EVIDENCE and WHO'S THAT GIRL), and I think Geena flinging this particular record into the flames is pretty objectively magnificent. But was there any fallout from this incident? Would it still be on Madonna's mind four years later when she co-starred with Geena Davis in A LEAGUE OF THEIR OWN?

It would be difficult to know the answer to that question unless we had a window of insight into Madonna's mind, which would be fairly difficult to gauge, considering her levels of image control––but then... there's this, a letter from Madonna to the fashion photographer Steven Meisel, written during principal photography for A LEAGUE OF THEIR OWN. In short, she says:

"I cannot suffer any more than I have in the past month learning how to play baseball with a bunch of girls (yuk) in Chicago (double yuk) I have a tan, I am dirty all day and I hardly ever wear make-up. Penny Marshall is Lavern — Geena Davis is a Barbie doll and when God decided where the beautiful men were going to live in the world, he did not choose Chicago. I have made a few friends but they are athletes, not actresses. I hate actresses."

Now, did Madonna choose to insult Geena Davis in this generally off-target way (apparently we all missed out on 'BEETLEJUICE' Barbie) because she was still sore about Geena flinging the WHO'S THAT GIRL soundtrack into a fiery hearth, even though said flinging was, I would wager, explicity written into Julie Brown's script? Ah, who can say. For her part, Geena seems to harbor no ill feelings in interviews, referring to Madonna as a "trouper." 

Perhaps a fitting benediction to all of this nonsense would be my favorite quote from a zebra-printed teenage tailgater in HEAVY METAL PARKING LOT: "Heavy metal rules, man!... Madonna can go to hell as far as I'm concerned. She's a dick!"

R.I.P., Clarence Williams III

R.I.P. to Clarence Williams III. Best known to audiences for THE MOD SQUAD, he was a former paratrooper, brilliant stage performer, and character actor who brought a singular intensity and scary fun to his roles, even when he was being pigeonholed as a convict or a gangster (see: MANIAC COP 2, AGAINST THE WALL, REINDEER GAMES, MIAMI VICE, AMERICAN GANGSTER, HOODLUM, THE COOL WORLD, etc.). He had a small but solid arc as an FBI agent on TWIN PEAKS, a fun bit in John Frankenheimer's TALES FROM THE CRYPT (one of his six collaborations with Frankenheimer) and got to play at "Cryptkeeper" himself in TALES FROM THE HOOD. He had an excellent supporting role in the very underrated DEEP COVER, and was the "Obi-Wan Kenobi" of butlers in THE BUTLER. His role as Prince's dad in PURPLE RAIN is an especially good one, but I must say that my personal favorite might be his turn as a blackmailer in Frankenheimer's Cannon film 52 PICK-UP, where he plays one of the most fearsome sociopaths in filmdom. R.I.P.

Only now does it occur to me... GREASE 2 (1982)

Only now does it occur to me... that in an alternate universe where GREASE 1 commands no "classic" status nor cultural cachet, and audiences were forced to evaluate the GREASE films on their own artistic merits, I have little doubt that a consensus would emerge that GREASE 2 is the stronger film. Go ahead: come at me, GREASE-lovers, I dare you.

I've discussed GREASE before––specifically the presence of Lorenzo Lamas therein––and had expected GREASE 2 to live up to its reputation as one of the most incompetent, laughable, best-worst movies the '80s had to offer. Instead, I was entreated to a stylized, explosive spectacle helmed by Patricia Birch (choreographer and director of Cyndi Lauper music videos) which at times feels ghost-directed by HAIRSPRAY-era John Waters.

(She has Tab Hunter teaching sex ed and drawing a uterus on a chalkboard, for godssakes!)

 

  

(Also note young Christopher McDonald on the right)

There is a parade of vivid and well-blocked tableaux which run the gamut from vintage Broadway to Busby Berkeley to Elvis to Doris Day to Ken Russell to post-apocalyptic American International biker flicks:

It has those Howard Hawksian arrangements where twenty-five people are facing the same direction in a scene, and it works:

a darkly satirical sequence ("Let's Do It For Our Country") where a character attempts to cajole his girlfriend into bunker sex by faking a nuclear attack––an idea later lifted by Joe Dante for MATINEE:

and the bizarre "Girl For All Seasons" number where Michelle Pfeiffer's Christmas Tree/December

jockeys for attention with all the other months, like January (a big-ass martini glass) and February (a grotesque George Washington quarter and a bicorne admiral's hat, for President's Day).

And despite being set in the early '60s, you'd better believe it adheres to the '80s Rule of Pools: 

 

(I've written about this many times before, but basically the rule is that if A., a swimming pool exists, then B., someone fully clothed must enter it against their will, arms flailing.)

In any event, GREASE 2 is no masterpiece, but neither is it worthy of ridicule––I say it knows exactly what it's doing, and it does it with archness and aplomb.

R.I.P., Tawny Kitaen

R.I.P. to Tawny Kitaen, who was more than "a video vixen" or a "BACHELOR PARTY co-star," even if it was by lightly gyrating upon the hoods of expensive cars in Whitesnake videos that she was catapulted to a form of stardom she could never quite escape. Having done a deep dive into her film work last summer, I found an actor of pathos, grand comedic timing, and real star power; a fashion bomb with huge statement bows and teased hair who was one of the great style icons of the 1980s. I wrote at length about her uncommon charisma in WITCHBOARD, CRYSTAL HEART, THE PERILS OF GWENDOLINE IN THE LAND OF THE YIK-YAK, and even in unworthy projects like WHITE HOT and GLORY YEARS. To quote my final installment "Of Whitesnakes and Witchboards... a Tawny Kitaen Retrospective":

I would be remiss if I didn't mention that I received a communique from Tawny Kitaen during the course of this retrospective. She wanted everyone to know that 'I hope you get everything that I used to be embarrassed about... David Geffen's right-hand man called me Yoko Ono, I was so embarrassed back then... and then as I got older and realized that the success of [Whitesnake] had a little bit to do with the videos and what I brought to it, and it made me feel really, really good. So I guess if I had any words of wisdom, there's this old Jewish adage, and it goes: 'When you grow up, I wish employees on you.' So John Kalodner, an employee of David Geffen gave a perspective on me that was true, but he was trying to hurt me at the same time... he didn't know that years later his words would come back to haunt him in everything that I do, when I have to talk about my experience, and that was being the Yoko Ono of Whitesnake, so I hope you can throw that into your blog.'

Perhaps this is the best note to end the retrospective on: we've seen six films here, some of them good, some decent, and some bad, but Tawny's charisma has been a consistent baseline throughout. Whether or not history chooses to remember her as 'The Yoko Ono of Whitesnake' or, much less likely, 'The Scapegoat of WHITE HOT,' the ridiculousness of the insult––if it is indeed even such––can be worn as a badge of pride, because in each of these films, many of which are baldly sexist and/or underwritten, she brings much more to the part than is expected of her. Whether as a style icon, a screen presence, or as a skillful actor, she rises above the material. So here's your benediction: 'Tawny rises above.'

STAR WARS at Junta Juleil

In honor of May the 4th, I thought I'd assemble a roundup of STAR WARS-related posts here at Junta Juleil:

There was the time I explored the font on Shelley Winters' name in CLEOPATRA JONES, and whether it inspired the STAR WARS main title:

There were the supporting casts of TWILIGHT'S LAST GLEAMING and FIREFOX, which seem purposefully culled from the George Lucas Industrial Complex:

There was my theory that Bea Arthur's character in MAME ultimately became her character from the STAR WARS HOLIDAY SPECIAL, and that J.J. Abrams' love of CON AIR influenced the sequel trilogy:

I once expounded at length on STAR WARS' influence on SUBURBAN COMMANDO, and SUBURBAN COMMANDO's potential influence on the prequel trilogy:

There was the time I went down the rabbit hole, twice, on the animated DROIDS series, and discovered perversity, hilarity, and a breakdancing R2-D2:

And finally there was my literary analysis of the paperback sequel SPLINTER OF THE MIND'S EYE, the only STAR WARS media where Luke is called "Saberman" and Darth Vader taunts Princess Leia by saying, "Come, girl-woman... amuse me." (shiver)

May the 4th be with you!

Only now does it occur to me... THE BOYFRIEND SCHOOL (1990)

Only now does it occur to me... that there's an incredibly specific TWIN PEAKS homage secreted within the awkward makeover rom-com THE BOYFRIEND SCHOOL (originally released as DON'T TELL HER IT'S ME). 

First, I must explain the premise of the film, which features Steve Guttenberg playing a heavily made-up American cancer survivor who is the cartoonist of a "Ziggy"-adjacent comic strip. 

 

Unable to find love, his sister––Shelley Long, as an over-the-top Harlequin romance novelist in the mold of her "fashion plate" character from TROOP BEVERLY HILLS––

 

makes him over as a Kiwi biker named "Lobo" with a righteous mullet, somewhere between Mel Gibson's in LETHAL WEAPON, Chuck Norris' in THE HITMAN, Brian Bosworth's in STONE COLD, and Jean-Claude Van Damme's in HARD TARGET. 

 

This, obviously, works wonders on Jami Gertz (best known perhaps as "Star" from THE LOST BOYS) who falls for The Gute as hard as a character in a (leather) bodice-ripper.

 

 Perhaps it goes without saying that all of this is completely insane.

 

(Yes, the above two photos depict a scene in which legendary character actress Beth Grant (CHILD'S PLAY 2, DONNIE DARKO, THE DARK HALF, WONDERFALLS, NO COUNTRY FOR OLD MEN) is teaching Steve Guttenberg how to "do the sex" with an anatomically-accurate dummy. Note the ZIPPY THE PINHEAD comic in the background.)

Anyway, before you become too horrified, onto the semi-obscure TWIN PEAKS reference. Now, THE BOYFRIEND SCHOOL was released on September 21, 1990: nine days before the highly anticipated premiere of TWIN PEAKS Season 2. The film features a supporting role by Agent Cooper himself, Kyle MacLachlan, as "Trout," a shady journalist and Guttenberg's rival for Jami Gertz's love. When we first meet him, he is being chased by a lawyer who believes his name to be "Mr. Renault."

Any TWIN PEAKS fan is deeply familiar with the surname, as the Renault brothers play a major role throughout the saga, and in the first season's finale––which aired four months prior––Agent Cooper was running a sting operation against Jacques Renault.

MacLachlan escapes the mysterious man, who is calling out "Mr. Renault!" throughout, and demands that his secretary bring him coffee: which, along with cherry pie, is Agent Cooper's favored vice.

The man continues calling for him as he continues to hide,

when who should appear but Mädchen Amick ("Shelly Johnson" on TWIN PEAKS) to shoot MacLachlan a knowing look.

MacLachlan proceeds to give a classically strange Agent Cooper-style speech to Jami Gertz about the importance of procreation 

before the mysterious man discovers his hiding spot

prompting MacLachlan to exclaim, "Your client is blowing smoke!"

A quasi-Lynchian rejoinder involving the most Lynchian of textures. Then the scene is over and the Renault business is never mentioned again. (MacLachlan has a few more scenes of being a sleazy jerk, prompting Jami Gertz to fall ever harder for Lobo Guttenberg.) Stumbling upon this sort of strange specificity and vintage obscurity is essentially the raison d'être of Junta Juleil's Culture Shock.