Director Corner: Martin Brest
Each week, I’ll watch three movies I haven’t seen — all made by the same director. Then I’ll post my thoughts about each movie. For week two, we’re going with Martin Brest.
Scent of a Woman (1992): The movie with the best scene.
Cast: Al Pacino, Chris O’Donnell, Philip Seymour Hoffman, James Rebhorn, Bradley Whitford, Frances Conroy, Richard Venture
Mini-Review: Al Pacino shows his range as Frank Slade: a blind, foul-mouthed alcoholic, retired Army Lt. Col., and black-sheep of the family. Beyond the surface level asshole, Slade is a multi-dimensional character fleshed out over the course of the nearly three-hour movie. Cantankerous, yes — but he’s also witty, whip-smart, and even caring at times. Unfortunately, Slade’s biggest problem is his inability to harness his powers for good, plus a self-defeating attitude to boot. In the end, though, Slade redeems himself by helping a friend in epic fashion (the word ‘epic’ has become cliché nowadays, but here, it is used in its truest sense—meaning particularly impressive or remarkable). The scene I’m referencing here (no spoilers!) is why the movie earns “best scene” of the week, out of the three movies I watched. Pacino’s ambitious performance earned him his long-sought-after Best Actor award at the 1992 Oscars. He had been previously nominated four times.
Scent of a Woman is a slog to watch in one sitting, clocking in at two hours and 36 minutes, and Slade is on full fuck-boy mode for the vast majority of those minutes. At least Slade is self-aware. “I’m bad. No, I’m not bad… I’m rotten,” Slade says at one point. Or, toward the end of the movie, when co-star Charlie Simms (Chris O’Donnell) remarks that his stepfather is “an asshole,” to which Slade responds, “Ah. Well that’s alright, Charlie. Every family’s got one nowadays,” clearly referencing himself.
The movie is about an hour too long, but it’s just entertaining enough to warrant the time commitment. From Pacino’s famous “Hoo-ah” catchphrase, to his blind driving behind the wheel of a Ferrari, to his overall wildcard antics and wisecracks, it’s all worth it. It gets dark in the last hour of the movie, when Slade points his gun at 17-year-old Charlie and says, “I don’t know whether to shoot you or adopt you,” which, yeah—pretty much sums of the relationship.
Midnight Run (1988): The most entertaining film of the week.
Cast: Robert De Niro, Charles Grodin, John Ashton, Yaphet Kotto, Dennis Farina, Wendy Phillips, Richard Foronjy, Joe Pantoliano, Philip Baker Hall
Mini-Review: On the surface, Midnight Run is about a bounty hunter, Jack Walsh (Robert De Niro) going cross-country to capture an embezzler (Jonathan Mardukas), but in reality, it’s a movie about friendship—specifically, the unexpected friendship that unfolds between Walsh and Mardukas. Before long, the audience is rooting for both Walsh and Mardukas, and rooting against everyone else in their way—the bail bondsmen, the Chicago mobsters, the competing bounty hunter, and the FBI. The airport showdown at the end between Walsh and mob boss Jimmy Serrano (Dennis Farina) is must-watch stuff—two alphas going toe-to-toe.
Walsh and Mardukas bounce from vehicle to vehicle throughout the film as they evade the aforementioned obstacles and travel from New York to Los Angeles, where Walsh plans to hand Mardukas over to the bail bondsman, on a tight deadline, for a $100,000 reward. The two main characters are electric as foes-turned-buddies, as their chemistry leaps off the screen thanks to witty banter, constant sarcasm, and clever trash-talk. De Niro and Grodin provide some early Curb Your Enthusiasm energy, which is always appreciated.
A small detail that jumps out upon watching in 2021 is all the indoor cigarette smoking—on trains, in buses, at the airport or at the diner—De Niro’s character is constantly lighting up. The score is also very 1988, with cheesy, outdated synths, guitar riffs and piano melodies. Because of the era, and because of the balanced blend of drama and comedy, Midnight Run gives off some Home Alone vibes. Random, but I also love how food is incorporated — De Niro housing chicken wings and jello, Grodin’s cholesterol quips, and the chorizo and eggs discussion during the diner scene.
According to Rolling Stone, the Mardukas role almost went to Cher (!) at first, as the studio was hoping to create sexual tension between her and De Niro. The studio also suggested Robin Williams. Brest said ‘no’ to both of those ideas, because he was so impressed with the chemistry between Grodin and De Niro, so they decided to lock in Grodin for the part, instead. Robin Williams in this role opposite De Niro would’ve still been incredible, but it definitely would’ve brought a different energy. Speaking of casting, Joe Pantoliano leaps off the screen as conniving bail bondsman Eddie Moscone, who’s willing to do whatever he can to reel in Mardukas and save his business. Moscone’s associate, Jerry Geisler, is also a bright spot—it kills me whenever he runs out to “get donuts.”
Time for a nitpick: we get a horribly fake-looking green screen sequence when De Niro shoots a helicopter (!?), which then crashes into the side of a mountain (!?). Still entertaining as hell, though.
Beverly Hills Cop (1984): The best movie of the week, and the best individual performance.
Cast: Eddie Murphy, Judge Reinhold, John Ashton, Gil Hill, Ronny Cox, Bronson Pinchot, Lisa Eilbacher, Paul Reiser, Jonathan Banks, Steven Berkoff, Damon Wayans, James Russo
Mini-Review: Beverly Hills Cop released in 1984—one year after Eddie Murphy starred in Trading Places (1983), three years before his Raw stand-up special (1987), and four years before Coming to America (1988). America had Michael Jackson fever by ’84, and the King of Pop references are sprinkled throughout Beverly Hills Cop, from leather Thriller jackets to Murphy’s impersonation of a Rolling Stone writer.
Foley is a Detroit cop who takes a “vacation” to Beverly Hills, where he’s really on a mission to solve his friend’s murder. As an officer of the law, Foley doesn’t do anything by the book—but dammit if he doesn’t get results.
Not exactly a hot take, but Murphy is a juggernaut in this movie from a charisma standpoint. He’s in complete control of basically every scene, with snarky comments, comedic timing and sarcasm at an 11 out of 10. It’s impossible to pick a favorite scene—too many options. The first time we see Foley interact with “Serge” at the art gallery. The scene when Foley orders room service for the two Beverly Hills officers staking him out at his hotel, and then Foley clogs their tailpipe with bananas. The strip club scene. It’s all gold. At one hour, four-minute mark, we get one of the most obvious uses of a stunt double ever (we see the fake Eddie Murphy’s entire face), but I don’t even care because Axel Foley is absolutely launching his friend’s murderer onto a messy buffet table at a snobby, rich country club brunch. I’ll take that every day of the week and twice on Sunday.
I’m slightly embarrassed to admit that I’ve never seen Beverly Hills Cop from start to finish until now. The movie’s been in the pop culture zeitgeist all my life, even though I was born 10 years after its release. I remember bumping this Jim Jones and Max B song (which uses the movie’s catchy theme music) on a mix CD I burned for a middle school band trip to Hershey Park. There have been other Beverly Hills Cop references in hip-hop, too, like Kanye West name-dropping Axel Foley in “To the World.” But after digesting the movie as a whole, I can finally see why Beverly Hills Cop is a certified classic.
