Exactly what it sounds like, the pick of the week column is written up by the Cinapse team on rotation, focusing on films that are past the marketing cycle of either their theatrical release or their home video release. So maybe the pick of the week will be only a couple of years old. Or maybe it’ll be a silent film, cult classic, or forgotten gem. The only guarantee is that the writer loves the chosen film and can’t wait to share it with you. Cinapse is all about thoughtfully advocating film, new and old, and celebrating what we love no matter how marketable that may be. So join us as we share about what we’re discovering, and hopefully you’ll find some new films for your watch list, or some new validation that others out there love what you love too! Engage with us in the comments or on Twitter or Facebook! And now, our Cinapse Pick Of The Week…
Welcome to the Cinapse Pick Of The Week (POTW), or as it’s sometimes affectionately known, Films the Cinapse Kids Yearn for Everyone to See (FCKYES). With our Turtlemania! coverage, it seemed the perfect time for me to lay down some love for one of my all-time favorites.
The opening is a master class in suspense. Not the frightening sort, but rather the immense anticipation, which must have unbearable for any cartoon-loving kid in 1990, of waiting to see the “real life” turtles on the big screen. When April O’Neil is attacked by a gang of thugs, a flying sai kills the streetlight and all goes dark. We hear the sounds of battle and know the turtles are kicking butt, but see nothing. After the battle, a manhole lifts slightly as a shadowed face peeks out to survey the aftermath, his eyes barely visible. Descending into the sewers, excited voices revel in post-victory celebration as their shadows paint the wall. Finally one of the shadows leaps forward as if to reveal its owner, but that’s when the film pauses to slam a title card and remind us what movie we’re watching while an electric guitar growls in crescendo. Finally, the Turtles’ energetic leader Leonardo jumps onto the screen. Now that’s how you introduce your characters.
The film’s plot is fairly straightforward. The Turtles get drawn into a war with the Foot Clan, a Japanese-headed criminal organization led by the enigmatic “Shredder”, when they save an intrepid female reporter, April O’Neil, from their attacks. The Foot track the Turtles to their sewer lair and abduct their sensei, Master Splinter, an elderly mutant rat who is their surrogate father. After a second attack that ends with April’s apartment going up in flames, the Turtles and their human friends are forced to retreat and plan their next move to face off with the Foot Clan and rescue Splinter. Except for Splinter being abducted, this plot is lifted right from the original comics by Kevin Eastman and Peter Laird.
While this review might seem fueled by some childhood nostalgia, the fact is that Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles is simply a superb movie: endlessly creative, heartfelt, hilarious, and sometimes downright joyous. Directed by Steve Barron and made with the cooperation of Eastman and Laird, the film expertly adapts the comic book up to that point and even a little beyond, focusing on the primary Shredder and Foot Clan conflict and how the Turtles meet their human friends, April O’Neil and Casey Jones.
In one of the nods to the cartoon, April is a reporter in the film, which helps facilitate the plot and explain why she’s constantly in the middle of everything Lois-Lane-style. Meanwhile Casey is a sort of strange man-child who gets his kicks by busting up thugs as a hockey-mask wearing street vigilante, and in a strange way he’s ultimately the real hero of the picture. Unlike April who meets the Turtles when they come to her rescue, Casey meets the Turtles by coming to their rescue.
The Turtles and their friends share wonderful chemistry. Leonardo and Raphael’s contentious relationship is predictably present, but on the flipside we also get to see the jovial rapport of Michaelangelo and Donatello. Judith Hoag, despite the grubby environs that permeate the film, is absolutely radiant as April O’Neil, who befriends the Turtles after Raphael rescues her from a subway attack but is resultantly endangered and inconvenienced by her association with her new friends. Meanwhile, Elias Koteas brings a ruggedly charming swagger to the misanthropic and bizarrely noble Casey Jones. Their characterizations here are extremely important, probably more than most fans realize. These portrayals, including April and Casey’s budding romance, predated what would soon become a functional family unit in the comics series. Both Hoag and Koteas have gone on to have notable careers and are still active to this day, but these are the roles in which they’re immortalized — and rightly so.
One of the most wonderful and probably under-appreciated moments in the film is Splinter’s rescue. Not by the Turtles, but by Casey and a prodigal teenager named Danny — seemingly the two most unreliable and rough-edged of the good guys. Splinter, who has never met Casey before, weakly asks him as he is unshackled, “Who are you?” The answer always gets me. “My name is Casey Jones… I’m a friend”. Casey goes on to single-handedly take out the Shredder’s top enforcer, Tatsu, so they can make their escape from the Shredder’s compound. Later he’ll also be the one to put the coup de grâce on the Shredder, because he’s this film’s Samwise Gamgee.
Despite the rather dark abduction plot, the film really shines as a comedy. The dialogue is absolutely golden-tongued stuff that has hardly aged at all. If anything, the quips are even better as I understand more and more of the jokes and subtle gags as I’ve aged. The entire movie is eminently quotable, as is the rap track “Turtle Power” by Partners in Kryme, which closes the film and plays over the credits.
From a production standpoint, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles seems something of a miracle. Independently financed and created as an east-west collaboration with legendary Hong Kong studio Golden Harvest (whose kung fu expertise helped anchor the film’s stunts and fighting), the film boasts extraordinary creature suits and puppet effects created by Jim Henson’s Creature Shop. The animatronics are marvelous, each dialogue mask (as opposed to stunt mask) packed with servos to create lifelike eye movements and facial expressions. Echoing the success of the independent comic, the film became one of the most successful and highest-grossing independent films of all time.
Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles and its sequels are widely available domestically on Blu-Ray and DVD, but always in somewhat poor form with a dearth of features despite the Turtles’ immense legacy. No commentaries or making of features (despite the fact that versions of these already exist). Even the deluxe “Pizza Box” Blu-ray set celebrating the Turtles’ 25th Anniversary lacks these basic features, instead packing in physical extras like a comic adaptation, beanie, and art cards. This is a poor treatment for such a groundbreaking and influential film with a rich history.
Fans have known for years that significant additional footage was cut from the film, presumably to make it more family friendly and keep it at a PG rating. Steve Barron and Judith Hoag have commented about this and expressed fondness for some of the missing material, which even include a different, unused musical score. Presumably if the footage could be found, restored, and reassembled, there might actually be a director’s cut out there waiting to be unleashed — which could provide the only answer to the question, “How do you improve on perfection?”
Please, Criterion.
A/V Out.
Get it at Amazon:
Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (1990) — [Blu-ray] | [DVD]| [Amazon Video]