Having more than a few laughs at Tinseltown’s expense
The Archivist — Welcome to the Archive. As home video formats have evolved over the years, a multitude of films have found themselves in danger of being forgotten forever due to their niche appeal. Thankfully, Warner Bros. established the Archive Collection, a Manufacture-On-Demand DVD operation devoted to thousands of idiosyncratic and ephemeral works of cinema. The Archive has expanded to include a streaming service, revivals of out-of-print DVDs, and Blu-ray discs (which, unlike the DVDs, are factory pressed rather than burned). Join us as we explore this treasure trove of cinematic discovery!
Since its early days, Hollywood has never shied away from taking any subject matter and vividly illustrating up on the big screen, warts and all. Some of the best films have come from the dissecting of particular worlds and the customs which comprise them and, sometimes, laughing at the hilarity to be found within. It therefore serves as no surprise that the world with the most material ripe for satire would be Hollywood itself.
Unlike most other worlds occupying such a prominent place in society, Hollywood has always made for a great comedic fodder mainly because it operates on a set of rules and standards which are constantly in flux. Moreover, those who elect to be a part of that world likewise think and function as if they exist on a totally separate habitat than the rest of society with the movies as their lifeblood. To its credit, Hollywood has always been a good sport and championed films which sent up its image in the hopes of scoring a hit AND making a good movie. In this edition of The Archivist, we look at two well-respected directors, David Mamet and Blake Edwards, a pair of semi-Hollywood outsiders who churned in two of the most hilarious showbiz satires ever made.
S.O.B.
Edwards wrote and directed the instantly-delicious S.O.B. (aka Standard Operational Bull***t), a wacky and zany comedy about a hotshot producer named Felix (Richard Mulligan) with the golden touch. However, when Felix’s latest project, a big-budget, heavily-promoted family blockbuster starring his famous wife Sally (Julie Andrews) flops, he loses it. Sally leaves him and contemplates divorce as all the studio heads and agents (including William Holden, Larry Hagman, Robert Vaughn and Shelley Winters) attempt to maintain control while Felix repeatedly tries to commit suicide, failing at every turn. Suddenly, Felix has an idea: He will re-cut his film as an erotic sex comedy starring his wife, who will stun everyone by showing her breasts.
There are two sides to the sprawling S.O.B. The first is a look at the zoo that is Hollywood and everyone operating within it as nothing more than wild animals existing in a form of captivity they crave as much as loathe. While everyone is careful and cautious about the future of Felix and Sally’s film, what they really care about even more is their own standing and reputation. The result is a film with one character after another going to maniacal lengths in an effort to stay on top of the game in order to survive. S.O.B.’s script throws out plenty of amusing and insightful dialogue to make its point. “If you want to dramatize the evils of prostitution, corrupt a virgin, not a whore,” exclaims Felix when describing how his film should be re-worked. “It’s been my experience that every time I think I know ‘where it’s at,’ it’s really somewhere else,” Holden’s weathered old agent states. The second side to S.O.B. is the pure joy and exhilaration at seeing Andrews sending up her own image. Throughout the course of S.O.B., Andrews gets to curse, shout, and fall under the influence of drugs all before baring her breasts in a show-stopping sequence. Watching the actress attack her role with so much gusto as she tries to put her squeaky clean image to bed by playing a woman who attempts to put HER squeaky clean image to bed, is a postmodern turn which shows Andrews giving it her customary all and more. With thinly-veiled portraits of real-life Hollywood figures populating every scene, as well as an uncontrollable comic madness throughout, resulting in a Golden Globe nomination for Best Motion Picture- Comedy/Musical, S.O.B. remains one of the best takes on Hollywood ever made.
State and Main
In 2000’s State and Main, a Hollywood cast and crew (including Alec Baldwin, Sarah Jessica Parker and William H. Macy) come to the small town of Waterford, Vermont to mount a historical period piece known as “The Old Mill.” However, after clashing with the mayor and his wife (Charles Durning and Patti LuPone), a local teenage waitress (Julia Stiles) and the city councilman (Clark Gregg), “The Old Mill” becomes in danger of shutting down. As a powerful producer (David Paymer) arrives in an effort to smooth things over, an unexpected romance develops between the film’s screenwriter (Philip Seymour Hoffman) and the town’s bookstore owner (Rebecca Pidgeon) as the battle between Hollywood and small-town America rages on.
Although he’s known more for his quietly stirring dramas than witty comedies, State and Main shows Mamet like never before as he directs one of the first great laugh-fests of the decade. The film takes a promising set-up and brings it to life with one outrageous character after another. There’s the overpaid, yet dim-witted actress (Parker) who is in deep conflict about having to take her top off, the leading man (Baldwin) whose many run-ins with the law haven’t slowed him down, both of whom are plopped into a town rich in tradition and sentimentality. As expected, Mamet loads the film with nothing but priceless zingers from start to finish. “Who designed these costumes,” Macy’s frustrated director asks his assistant. “It looks like Edith Head puked and that puke designed these costumes.” When Hoffman is offered the chance to be a producer on the film, he asks: “What’s an associate producer credit,” to which another producer (Lionel Mark Smith) answers: “It’s what you give to your secretary instead of a raise.” State and Main takes on a gentleness and a quirky beauty in the scenes between Hoffman and Pidgeon which see the pair (oddballs even in the parameters of their respective worlds) find a connection which Mamet lovingly takes the time to explore even as he draws laughs from them at the same time. After the mill which was to be used for the production is destroyed in a fire, Hoffman asks Pidgeon: “How do I make a movie called “The Old Mill” when I don’t have an old mill?” She thinks about it before saying: “Well, first you have to change the title.”
