Monday, September 8, 2008

Quote of the Week

A new feature on Caged, to provide insight from the man himself. In true Freudian fashion, let's begin with his thoughts on his mother:

She would go away for years at a time. When she got too erratic, she went . . . away. My childhood consisted of going to see her, going in there with crazy people. She was institutionalized for years and went through shock treatments. 
She was a gentle, sensitive woman. If I look at home movies of when I was two years old, I see that she was a very caring mother the way she touched me. For lengths of time she was naturally 'out there,' naturally surreal, with all kinds of poetry flying out of her. It gave me an original perspective.
I used to have nightmares that my mother's head was attached to a cockroach's body, and she was living in the garage. That really freaked me out, so I was really horrified of bugs.
 Source: Robb, Brian J.  Nicolas Cage: Hollywood's Wild Talent.  London: Plexus, 1998.

Friday, September 5, 2008

Reminder: Bangkok Dangerous Opens Today!


Although I have untold hours of Cage to watch before I can formally discuss this film, I just want to remind everyone that Bangkok Dangerous is in theaters today. If its poor critical reception and Cage's lanky black locks (an attempt to win the part of Professor Snape in a remake as unnecessary and poorly conceived as this one?) are scaring you away, at least watch this scene complete with a boat chase, exploding motorcycle, and propeller-based limb amputation. You will not regret it.

Wednesday, September 3, 2008

The Boy in Blue



"[The Boy in Blue's female lead] Cynthia Dale is the finest musical actress in the world. No one woman has her physical beauty, dancing skill, wonderful singing voice and acting ability today or in any other era. 

Unfortunately she was not able to display her talents in this role."
-William P Cunnings, Amazon.com

Indeed, The Boy in Blue is a showcase for many things-- extravagant handlebar mustaches, Nicolas Cage's sweaty, glistening pectorals, a series of plot devices so ludicrous and contrived they make Face/Off seem an exercise in plausibility-- but talent is certainly not among them. Without a doubt, it is Cage's worst performance so far: his bumbling attempts at innocent naivete come across like a poorly cast high-schooler in a production of Peter Pan. In fact, given that the film is based on a real-life historical figure (Canadian rowing champion Ned Hanlan, seen on the left memorialized in what Wikipedia dubs a "surprisingly revealing" statue), the whole thing has a whiff of high school project to it, and a poorly executed one at that: one thrown together at 11pm the night before the due date with a borrowed camcorder, a two paragraph biography copied from the World Book Encyclopedia, and a variety pack of false mustaches.  I have seen this movie twice now, and I will tell you right now there is only one way to make it palatable to even think about reliving the experience: by drinking heavily. I encourage you, readers, to play along: take a swig for every inexplicable plot twist, gratuitously shirtless Cage scene, and virulent anti-Harvard sentiment. If you are especially hardcore, drink whenever there's mention of comical facial hair, but I cannot be held responsible for the possible alcohol poisoning/death that may result.
 
The movie opens with Ned Hanlan (Cage) living on the bucolic Canadian coastline, enjoying the company of his busty girl Dulcie and smuggling moonshine across the river; using his speedy rowing skills to evade the police who threaten in geographically inappropriate Irish brogues to lock him up if they could only catch him, begorrah! This simple life is disrupted when Hanlan's talents begin to attract the attention of more than just the law, and a mustachioed businessman comes calling with the promise of glory and lucre to be gained from a sculling race in Philadelphia. When they get to town they find their boat is missing, but it just so happens (how convenient!) that a cantankerous old man with a bushy white beard and mad genius reminiscent of Doc Brown has one waiting for them. And not just any boat for our hero: this boat has a sliding seat. "All them Harvard boys won't give it a chance," Doc laments, and when Ned first tries it we see why: he immediately capsizes, falling into the water as a group of other rowers literally point and laugh. But soon enough he gets the hang of it, and goes on to win second place in the race. Unfortunately, this does not sit well with a cadre of evil businessmen who have set up a sculling gambling syndicate, and they endeavor to exact revenge by sending out thugs to break Bill's arm and poison Ned's drink. Thankfully wise old Doc is suspicious, and pawns the beer off on a passerby who then keels over, apparently dead, although this goes completely unnoticed by the tavern's patrons.
In any case, there's no time to dwell on it, because suddenly we're back in Canada, and Ned is being showered with attention: the mayor presents him with a medal, a cheering crowd carries him away on their shoulders, and oily businessman Knox, leader of the aforementioned gambling syndicate, wants to be Ned's new manager. Ned is reluctant, knowing a stock caricature of avarice when he sees one, but is still drawn to Knox's niece (the ostensibly talented Dale), a haughty society girl who is nevertheless taken by his raffish charms. Unfortunately she is also taken by her fiance, a blond man whom Ned walks up to at a party and pushes to the ground, shouting "Get up, Harvard man!" When Maggie is inexplicably put off by this behavior, Ned spirals into an alcoholic languor, and returns to the seedy world of moonshine smuggling, where he is soon caught and imprisoned. To raise bail money, Ned is forced to sign with Knox, who makes him undergo a rigorous training regimen as he and his wealthy cronies sit on the porch homoerotically admiring Ned's shirtless body: "He's like a moving sculpture."  
All the training is in preparation for a big race in Boston against Australian sculling superstar Trickett, who strides into town with a 70s porn-style mustache and large entourage, all of whom wear matching red and black outfits with "T"s embroidered on the chest. Also in Boston are Bill and Ned's former flame Dulcie, who are now happily married. Ned is thrilled to see them (although even he seems taken aback by their marriage, saying "I didn't even know you knew each other!") but their joyful reunion is soon marred when Ned learns of their nefarious purpose there: Knox has paid Bill to sabotage Trickett's boat. Ned is a fair-minded fellow and and after a bit of high-principled shouting at Bill, manages to surreptitiously warn Trickett to check his seat. He gets little thanks for this during the race, though, which Trickett spends shouting insults at Ned until Ned, shouting "You bastard!" can take no more and rows directly into the side of Trickett's boat.
Of course, that kind of behavior is one thing for a rough young bootlegger, but it doesn't fly in the mannered world of rowing, and Ned is expelled from all American sculling races and dropped by Knox. With nowhere else to turn, Ned goes back to old Doc, who apparently used to be a rowing champion himself (he is truly a paragon of convenience, that man) and agrees to train Ned for the World Championship in England. Ned emerges from his second training montage with a newfound sense of peace and calm which last until the very next scene, when he jumps on the back of Maggie and Harvard Man's carriage, hitting the door and shouting "DO NOT MARRY THIS MAN!" This is evidently exactly what Maggie was waiting for, as next thing we know she is sneaking into Ned's room at night for a sweaty topless training montage of their own. Via reasons that are both too complicated and nonsensical to even mention, they manage to blackmail Knox into consenting to their marriage, so soon the happy couple is off to England for the big race on the Thames.
Although this race is billed as a "World Championship" the only contestants are Ned and Trickett, who begin the race evenly matched, rowing furiously to remain neck and neck. But before long Ned is forced to stop when his oar develops a loose screw. He fruitlessly tries to screw it back, even as Trickett rows farther and farther away and all seems lost. Luckily Bill is there to save the day by jumping into the water and swimming over to give Ned a wrench (Who doesn't bring a wrench to a sporting event?).  Although Trickett has had several minutes to build up a lead, Ned manages to catch up with him fairly easily and after slow motion sequence which tries valiantly to generate a modicum of suspense, Ned finally wins. 
Surprisingly enough, this is not the end: perhaps taking a cue from the unpredictable sitcom-esque final moments of Birdy, the last scene finds Ned and Bill reunited and celebrating when Knox's thugs come out of the shadows menacingly. As they advance, Ned and Bill put up their fists to prepare for a fight, and Ned says jovially "Here we go again!" Then-- and only then-- do we get a merciful cut to black.

There  is probably some cutting and insightful analysis to be done here, but fuck that-- now I'm wasted. Although still not as wasted as the film onto which this movie was shot. 

WANT TO LEARN MORE, HARVARD MAN?