House Logo
Explore categories +

James Belushi (#110 of 4)

Twin Peaks: The Return Recap Part 16

Comments Comments (...)

Twin Peaks: The Return Recap: Part 16

Suzanne Tenner/Showtime

Twin Peaks: The Return Recap: Part 16

“Part 16” of Twin Peaks: The Return is perhaps most remarkable for its numerous arrivals and departures, some of them quite literal, some a bit more metaphorical. In a more rules-oriented series, the second-to-last episode of the season would be spent mostly marking time, given over to scrupulously setting the stage for the finale. There were traces of that here, of course, but rendered wonderfully rich and strange through David Lynch’s meticulous attention to off-kilter audiovisual textures and details.

Twin Peaks: The Return Recap Part 5

Comments Comments (...)

Twin Peaks: The Return Recap: Part 5

Showtime

Twin Peaks: The Return Recap: Part 5

The establishing shot of the glittering nighttime Las Vegas skyline that opens “Part 5” of Twin Peaks: The Return dissolves to a street-level prowl through an old-school, neon-lit district before cutting to the Rancho Rosa billboard, moodily lit by a spotlight. The hit men who’ve been lying in wait for Dougie Jones (Kyle MacLachlan) report back that his car hasn’t moved. And for the first time, we’re introduced to their higher-up: an agitated woman sitting behind a cluttered desk, with a makeup smudge (or faded bruise) visible on her cheek, who hastily sends off a text that cryptically reads “Argent 2.”

Summer of ‘88: Red Heat

Comments Comments (...)

Summer of ‘88: <em>Red Heat</em>
Summer of ‘88: <em>Red Heat</em>

What the hell are film critics actually talking about when they speak of “craftsmanship”? Walter Hill’s relatively recent status as an auteur may have been stymied by his unwillingness to take on sprawling, pretentious, or overstuffed shots or edits; for him, the somewhat anonymous vocabulary of the studio picture was one well enough worth perfecting. The gains of 48 Hrs., Hill’s biggest hit by a substantial margin, were lost almost immediately on his follow-up, the post-apocalyptic doo-wop musical tent-pole Streets of Fire. The film’s financial loss was profound; in career terms it scaled the writer-director right back down to where he was before, directing lower-budget studio actioners and comedies for the rest of the ’80s.

Enter Arnold Schwarzenegger. If Hill was tasked with writing and directing Red Heat on the basis of his legendary pairing of Eddie Murphy and Nick Nolte, it’s not hard to imagine the limitless possibilities that the bigwigs at Carolco—Schwarzenegger’s financiers of choice—saw for the superstar’s first-ever comedy. In both form and content, the film is lopsidedly, irrevocably dictated by his participation; the opening 15 minutes are exclusively in Russian, introducing Schwarzenegger’s Captain Ivan Danko as an impenetrably stiff juggernaut, nakedly infiltrating a sleazy cocaine ring encamped in a traditional Russian bathhouse. The scene’s dominant textures—buttressed by composer James Horner’s radiant, ominous synthesizer keys—are stone, flesh, smoke, steam, and ultimately snow, as the inevitable brawl between Danko and the Georgian mobsters explodes through a window out into the frozen hillside. Hill’s Moscow is nothing if not tough.

Oliver Stone: Natural Born Filmmaker, Part 1

Comments Comments (...)

Oliver Stone: Natural Born Filmmaker, Part 1
Oliver Stone: Natural Born Filmmaker, Part 1

Veteran. Agitator. Provocateur. Bully. Conspiracy nut. Patriot. These are just some of the labels used over the years to describe Oliver Stone. (Subtle isn’t one of them.) He has spent his filmmaking career charting the currents that propelled America in the post-war era: war, greed, sensationalism, sex, drugs, and rock & roll. Like Jean-Luc Godard, Stone embraces myth then cuts it up to reveal a truth at its heart. Whether it’s the dark side of the counterculture (The Doors), the moment America entered the media age of paranoia and punditry (JFK), the ambition—and folly—that comes with being the leader of the most powerful country in the world (Nixon), or the corporatization of America (Wall Street, Any Given Sunday), Stone has used film to chronicle the dreams, fears, and disillusionments that marked the last half of the 20th century as the most creative—and destructive—in U.S. history. (Is it really a surprise that Stone’s latest movie is about the defining moment of the 21st century?)