FILM REVIEW OF ''THE MAN WHO KILLED HITLER AND THEN THE BIGFOOT" (2018)

The title of a movie may sometimes reveal more about its plot than you need to know.  Freshman writer & director Robert D. Krzykowski's atmospheric, historical epic "The Man Who Killed Hitler and Then The Bigfoot" (*** OUT OF ****), starring Sam Elliot as the titular protagonist, doesn't tell everything.  As the legendary huntsman Calvin Barr, Elliot plays the individual who infiltrated the ranks of the Third Reich and put lead through Hitler's head. "Poldark" star Aidan Turner credibly portrays the protagonist as a younger man in the World War II scenes. Happily, Turner bears a reasonable resemblance to what Sam Elliot might have looked like 50 years ago.  After all, Sam is pushing 75.  After the Hitler shooting, Elliot takes over from Turner as the older Barr for the 1980s.  Meantime, Krzykowski cuts back and forth between past and present storylines, and he displays nimble flair.  Everything considered, though he appears in perhaps half of the movie, Elliot's sturdy presence turns "The Man Who Killed Hitler and Then The Bigfoot" into an intriguing, occasionally exciting, meditation on loneliness and heroism.  The scene where Barr penetrates Hitler's security and confronts the Führer is suspenseful. Even better is the unusual weapon our hero assembles from various inconspicuous personal items to shoot him.  The gun is reminiscent of the weapon wielded by Francisco Scaramanga in the James Bond extravaganza "The Man with the Golden Gun" (1974). Despite all his medals and bravery, our hero doesn't live in the lap of luxury.  Of course, nobody knows he killed Hitler.  The U.S. government covered up his audacious deed when the Third Reich replaced the Führer with an imposter!  Moreover, as each imposter perished, Barr explained the Nazis lined-up another to maintain the masquerade.  This kind of inventive plotting distinguishes this artsy, little, independently produced film.  The palatable authenticity that permeates "The Man Who Killed Hitler and Then The Bigfoot" is contrary to most current films.  Fate constitutes a fickle thing for Calvin Barr as well as for the audience, but the movie never degenerates into a maudlin melodrama.

Good fortune has not favored Calvin Barr in his personal ambitions.  He bides his time contemplating the past. Barr keeps to himself unless he ventures out to his younger brother's barbershop for a trim.  Barr's congenial brother Ed (comedian Larry Miller of "Undercover Blues") is only too happy to give Calvin a haircut.  Sometimes, they go fishing and drift idly around in a boat on a serene lake, but never utter a word.  Calvin experiences flashbacks from the Hitler assassination throughout, reliving those white-knuckled moments.  Meantime, he eats breakfast with Ralphie, his pet Labrador Retriever, slipping him a fragment of link sausage under the table.  Calvin lives alone, and Krzykowski often shows him pondering a small wooden box.  Neither the significance nor the contents of the box is divulged, but it is enough for us to know that it contains something valuable to him.  Calvin's mysterious box is comparable to the enigmatic attaché case in "Pulp Fiction."  You can guess all you want, but Krzykowski neither affirms nor denies what lies within it.  When he least expects visitors, Calvin finds himself chatting with an FBI agent nicknamed Flag Pin (Ron Livingston of "Office Space") and a Canadian government official Maple Leaf (Rizwan Manji of "Charlie Wilson's War") who pitch him a preposterous proposition straight-out-of-a-science fiction saga. 

In Canada, health experts have learned the fabled creature Bigfoot is carrying a deadly plague which could wipe out mankind.  Every animal that Bigfoot has come into contact with has died an ugly death.  Miraculously, Calvin is immune to the creature's virus, so he enjoys a modicum of protection.  Flag Pin and Maple Leaf want him to enter a fiery arena about 50-miles in diameter in the Canadian wilderness and shoot the Bigfoot to death.  Initially reluctant to undertake such an outlandish mission, Calvin changes his mind at the last moment.  The creature Bigfoot is reminiscent of the apes at the dawn of time in Stanley Kubrick's original "2001: A Space Odyssey," but it isn't a schlocky B-movie monster.  Calvin reports back that the creature doesn't have big feet.  Nevertheless, this creature is clever, and it almost leads Calvin off the edge of a cliff.    Earlier, Calvin's encounter with thieves outside the bar in his home town turns ugly and violent.  These three dastards brandish knives and pistols and demand his keys and his wallet. The methodical way Calvin disarms them and leaves them sprawled senseless on the asphalt would prompt the heroes of "The Expendables" film franchise to high-five him with admiration.

Sam Elliot's performance is laden with dramatic gravitas.  Not every actor can play a seasoned killer who convinces us that he is not only lethal but also remorseful.  Elliot doesn't shrink from performing his own stunts, and the filmmakers thrust him into situations that few 75-year old men should experience.  One stunning long shot of Elliot scaling a mountain with his bare hands with his rifle strapped to his back reminds us that the journey of the hero is fraught with constant peril.  Krzykowski keeps the actor on his toes. Mind you, everything Krzykowski does here as a filmmaker clashes with the common wisdom of theatrical tentpole releases.  Krzykowski's film suffers somewhat from the pervasive sense of melancholy our stalwart, tight-lipped hero experiences.  Bridging the 1940s with the 1980s, Zach Passero's polished editing makes these drastically different scenes appear integrated.  As Calvin's younger version, Aiden Turner has a brief, bittersweet romance with the heroine Caitlin FitzGerald.  However, they are never shown sleeping together. Seriously efficient at his tracking and killing, Calvin Barr lacks the control over his personal life that he has attained over his prey in his professional life.  The actor cast as Hitler-- Joe Lucas--is a dead ringer for Herr Schicklgruber!  Altogether, "The Man Who Killed Hitler and Then The Bigfoot" qualifies as a derivative, but above-average, character study with nuance about an individual who without question made sacrifices to serve his country. 

FILM REVIEW OF ''A MILLION WAYS TO DIE IN THE WEST" (2014)

Seth MacFarlane’s half-baked horse opera “A Million Ways to Die in the West” (** OUT OF ****) qualifies as a saddle-sore saga.  This lowest common denominator sagebrush satire boasts low-brow bowel humor, highly offensive language, and gory death scenes.  Despite all these unsavory elements, this western spoof emerges as fair at best and routine at worst.  Sporadically funny jokes and gags cannot conceal the conventions and clichés.  The first problem is the trite Alex Sulkin, Wellesley Wild, and Seth MacFarlane screenplay.  Recently, I watched an Eddie Albert comedy “The Dude Goes West” (1947) that covered similar ground with greater success.  MacFarlane and his co-writers rant about the deplorable conditions governing life on the frontier in the 19^th century American west.  The hero and the heroine hate the west.  This revulsion of all things western neither distinguishes MacFarlane’s movie nor makes its humor any funnier.  The only place where “A Million Ways to Die” breaks ground is with its raunchy R-rated jokes.  Some of the jokes hit, but most miss. Some jokes are so vile they might gag the guys in the “Jackass” movies.  Indeed, MacFarlane gets away with a lot in this lame oater, especially during the opening “Gunsmoke” showdown.  The good jokes are really good.  One of the best turns out to be badly told but this serves to accentuate the humor.  The second problem is most of the dialogue sounds like stand-up, comic routines.  Some standup comedy routines are better than others.  The best gag concerns Old West photography.  The running joke is nobody smiles in a photograph in the 19^th century.  Nevertheless, the grinning photo attained the status as an urban legend.  Those who aren’t appalled by MacFarlane’s infantile as well as scatological sense of humor will no doubt want to roll in it like a dog in its own feces.  “A Million Ways to Die in the West” struggles to emulate “Blazing Saddles,” deliver dialogue like “Deadwood,” and show off like “Faces of Death.”

The setting of “A Million Ways to Die” is the town of Old Stump in the Arizona Territory in the year 1882.  Our pusillanimous sheep farming protagonist, Albert Stark (Seth MacFarlane of “Ted”), sinks into a state of depression after his schoolmarm girlfriend, Louise (Amanda Seyfried), dumps him for a snotty lothario, Foy (Neal Patrick Harris of “Harold & Kumar Go to White Castle”), who owns a mustache shop.  No, nice-guy Albert doesn’t sport a mustache.  Louise left Albert because she classified him as too cowardly.  During the opening Main Street showdown, Albert drops his six-gun in the dust rather than shoot it out with another gunman.  Later, Albert challenges Foy to a duel.  Meantime, a mysterious woman, Anna (Charlize Theron of “Monster”), shows Albert how to handle a hog-leg.  Anna, as it turns out, is the wife of notorious outlaw Clinch Leatherwood (Liam Neeson of “Taken”) who eventually decides to shoot Albert for flirting with his wife.  Basically, boy loses girl, boy tries to get girl back, but takes up with a different girl describes the storyline.  An imbecilic subplot concerns the romance between a hard-working saloon prostitute, Ruth (Sarah Silverman of “Evolution”) and a timid male virgin shoemaker (Giovanni Ribisi of “The Mod Squad”) who has agreed not to have intercourse with her until their wedding night.  Albert and his friends emerge as likeable, sympathetic characters, while Foy, Clinch, and his henchmen are as repulsive as rattlers.

Although best known as the creator of the respective animated series “American Dad” and “Family Guy,” not to mention his previous blockbuster comedy “Ted” with Mark Wahlberg, MacFarlane must have been gambling that he could resurrect a moribund franchise with his impertinent humor.  Westerns have not performed well at the box office since the early 1990s, and even then the genre was riding on borrowed time.  After John Wayne died and Clint Eastwood got too old plains, westerns have never regained their former grandeur.  Disney’s “Lone Ranger” tanked last summer, and only AMC’s “Hell on Wheels” on television has survived with any success.  The Jeff Bridges “True Grit” remake and Quentin Tarantino’s slave saga “Django” are the sole examples of successes.  Nothing about MacFarlane’s approach to the genre justifies its use.  He looks out of place himself with his hopelessly clean-scrubbed, Shoney’s Big Boy looks.  Aside from his profanity, MacFarlane plays the same tenderfoot that Bob Hope, Eddie Albert, Gary Cooper, Don Knotts, or Tim Conway have done in earlier movies and television shows.  Neil Patrick Harris usually steals the show no matter what the material, but he makes only a minor impression with his Snidely Whiplash villain.  Unfortunate Amanda Seyfried has little more to do than bulge her beautiful eyes and swish an umbrella.  Charlize Theron and Liam Neeson wander through their roles.  Colorful cameos by the likes of Christopher Lloyd, Gilbert Gottfried, Ewan McGregor, Jamie Foxx, and Bill Maher prove more stimulating.  “A Million Ways to Die in the West” could have been a million times better.

FILM REVIEW OF "THE LEGEND OF THE LONE RANGER (1981)

Scenic locales, gorgeous cinematography, superb set design, atmospheric art direction, and a first-class supporting cast cannot salvage "Monte Walsh" director William A. Fraker's lame western "The Legend of the Lone Ranger" with a impassive Klinton Spilsbury cast as the Masked Man. Spilsbury is a tall, lean gent with a strong chin and a dashing profile. In other words, he would have made a great Marlboro Man, but he conveys no sense of presence. Not only is this western an origins epic establishing the genesis of the Lone Ranger, but it is also an abduction opus since the hero must rescue President Ulysses S. Grant from the villainous Major Bartholomew 'Butch' Cavendish (Christopher Lloyd of "Back to the Future") who attacks his train. You would think President Grant would have surrounded himself with an army of soldiers as his bodyguards, but they are nowhere to be seen.

 When we get our first glimpse of the Lone Ranger, John Reid is an adolescent who saves a young Tonto from a gang of ruthless ruffians. No sooner has young Reid saved Tonto from these villains than he scrambles back to his home to find these same dastards attacking his ranch. They gun down both his mother and father in cold blood, and later his big brother packs him off to Detroit. Of course, Detroit would be the perfect place since the original "Lone Ranger" radio series aired there on WXYZ in the first place in 1933. Later, after he has grown up and graduated from law school, he visits his brother, Captain Dan Reid (John Bennett Perry of "Independence Day"),and they ride off in pursuit of the gunmen who hanged a crusading newspaper publisher (John Hart of "The Lone Ranger") in the dusty town of Del Rio, Texas. It seems that Lucas Striker has printed some unkind words about Cavendish, and he repays the favor by dispatching his hooligans to slip a noose around his neck.

The ambush at Bryant's Gap—one of the few events that distinguish this horse opera-- is staged with gusto. Cavendish's men launch wagons laden with explosives off promontories at either end of the gap and cut the Rangers off from escaping while his army of riflemen massacre them. They use a Gatling gun to mow down the poor lawmen. In this version of the legend, Cavendish is no longer an ordinary outlaw but a former U.S. Army officer court-marshaled by Grant. Cavendish plans to establish his own kingdom in Texas and intends to use Grant as his bargaining chip to realize his dream. Christopher Lloyd plays Cavendish as a tight-lipped martinet, and he does some strange things himself. When he orders the execution of two of his henchmen (Ted Gehring and Buck Taylor of TV's "Gunsmoke"), he has them blindfolded and seated in chairs before a firing squad. Believe it or not, one of Cavendish's other henchmen is portrayed by no less than Tom Laughlin of "Billy Jack" fame.

 

This 98-minute horse opera perished at the box office partially because of an ill-fated public relations campaign that stripped the original Lone Ranger--Clayton Moore--of his mask. After he finished making "The Lone Ranger and the Lost City of God," Moore appeared in various commercials with sidekick Jay Silverheels and attended movie conventions where he signed autographs. The was the primary way that the former Masked Man generated revenue for himself and his family in his later years. Something must have gone wrong in the process of making the movie because the producers used John Hart, who took over the role momentarily after a contract dispute. Particularly objectionable is the reliance upon a balladeer (country singer Merle Haggard) to provide musical narration that serves no purpose. We know everything that we need to know and then here comes Merle underlining what we already know.  

The problems with the script are numerous. A relationship between John Reed and Amy Striker has its moments when they swap spit, but it goes no farther. Instead of the outlaws killing Amy's father, they should have killed her accidentally when she got in their way. This would have ended the romance and given the Lone Ranger another reason to ride the back trails for justice. The scene where the Masked Man gallops alone into Del Rio to rescue Tonto from a hangman's noose is inferior. He faces little opposition from the townspeople. Although the finale with the Lone Ranger and Tonto infiltrating Cavendish hidden fort turns out to explosive stuff, this entire scene makes it too easy for our heroes who encounter no trouble. The screenplay includes historical figures such as Buffalo Bill Cody, Wild Bill Hickok, and General George A. Custer. Jason Robards is good as Grant, but the story is formulaic. 

If you didn't know any better, "The Legend of the Lone Ranger" might make a tolerable rainy day movie. Michael Horse plays Tonto, but the two generate little sense of camaraderie. "Your sins will be paid for in the fires of hell," proclaims Grant when he sentences Cavendish to prison. He could have been the idiots who took away Clayton Moore's mask and came up with this oater. Stacy Keach's younger brother James dubbed Klinton Spilsbury's dialogue, but not even he can cry "Hi, Yo-Silver" with any enthusiasm. I grew up watching Clayton Moore and Jay Silverheels ride across the small screen as well as the big screen in "The Lone Ranger" and "The Lone Ranger and the Lost City of Gold," and both of these outings surpass this technically elegant looking sagebrusher. The DVD release of this inferior western is just as lame because it is presented in the Pan & Scan format until the end credits roll and the images appear in widescreen letterb0xed format.