D*#k Flick: Jeremiah Johnson

It's been awhile since The Common Man has watched a real man's movie. As The Common Man once opined, "Guys need more movies just for them. Movies they don't have to share. Movies their wives and girlfriends will be embarrassed to admit seeing." The Common Man also should have noted that said movies should actually be decent and fun to watch, since reviewing The Condemned almost turned The Common Man off from the enterprise entirely. He almost bagged it all and lit out for the territories, leaving his DirecTV behind. But, then, Battlestar Galactica and Lost are starting back up this January, so The Common Man thought better of it.

If he'd done it though, it probably would have gone something like Jeremiah Johnson, the 1972 Frontier drama starring super-duper-mega-star Robert Redford. Several weeks ago, The Deacon (The Common Man's private brewmaster, Godfather to The Boy, and paragon of manliness) recommended the film to The Common Man as a moving portrayal of the manly virtues. The film begins with a disillusioned Johnson (Redford), leaving civilization behind to live as a trapper in the Rocky Mountains. After abandoning the American war effort in Mexico (it's telling the film is released at the end of the Vietnam War), Johnson believes he has no further use for human contact, and that a solitary life in the wild will help him find peace.

Yet, like so many young men who enter a larger world, Johnson is ill-equipped for the dangers he finds. His gun is inadequate and so are his survival skills. Eventually, Johnson is so desperate, he's reduced to trying to scoop trout from a freezing stream with his hands. Fortunately, he comes across salvation in finding the frozen body of a mountain man and his very big gun, and Bear Claw (Will Geer), a Yoda-like guru who takes Johnson in and teaches him how to trap, hunt, and avoid trouble.

Yet, even in his desire to be alone, Johnson cannot avoid the temptations of human contact and the call of civilization. (spoiler alert) He stops at a cabin to help a family destroyed by an Indian attack, and the grief-stricken mother sends her one remaining sun off with him. Later, while exchanging gifts with a tribe of Flathead, Johnson inadvertantly ends up with a wife. Together, they find a small place in the mountains and being a husband and father finally make Johnson happy.

However, while called away helping settlers through the mountain passes, his home is attacked by Crow, who massacre his wife and boy. Driven by grief and madness, Johnson avenges their deaths on the offending Crows, who then send warriors to kill him. Hunted, Johnson lives on his wits and his anger, and becomes the antithesis of what he was seeking. Rather than living peacefully, he becomes the embodiment of war and death, a boogie man both feared and respected. And aside from this fundamental shift in him, Johnson ends the film where he began, totally and utterly alone. End Spoiler.


Jeremiah Johnson is one of the manliest of films because of the hero's growth into manhood, and because he accepts the responsibilities of being a man. Though he doesn't initially want a wife or son, he refuses to abandon or sell them, taking care of them and building a life together. While not romantic in a traditional sense, his decision to allow them into his life eventually fills his heart with love and he's able to fulfill both key male roles, of husband and father, admirably. And when that love and identity is stripped from him, Johnson metes out retribution for the deaths of his family and others. Yet he maintains a strict morality about his justice, only hunting those hunt him. And despite his suffering, Johnson does not complain. Instead he says almost nothing, silently accepting his lot and preparing for his vengeance. He is not proud of what he has become, but nor does he turn from it. Plus, Redford wears a manly blonde beard.

Aside from these manly attributes, Jeremiah Johnson shines with brilliant performances, particularly by Redford and Geer. And the direction by Sydney Pollack is excellent. It is often a beautiful film, and often horrifying. Pollack appropriately captures both the majesty of the frontier, and the loneliness of it, and does not clutter the film with unnecessary sound effects. Instead, the film stands as empty as the wilderness, and on the strength of its story and acting.

The Common Man was duly impressed by this film, a largely overshadowed piece of the Redford and Western canons. It is profoundly sad, but oddly enjoyable. Depressing but impressive. It is cerebral and challenges its audience to continue to root for the protagonist, even when his blood lust is clearly up. And as a d*#k flick, it has most assuredly earned its two balls.

D*#k Flicks: The Condemned

Wow. The Common Man cannot adequately describe what escaped from The Boy last night while in his crib. Something so disgusting and terrible that it required an immediate bath, the stripping of the bed, and the scrubbing of his mattress. Then, it necessitated an evening of snuggling between his mortified mother and father. The Common Man has never seen anything so horrible. Except, of course, when he was stuck on the couch on Tuesday, "enjoying" the latest D*#k Flick to come to his attention, The Condemned, starring Steve Austin.

Austin, of course, is best known as Stone Cold Steve Austin, the superstar and chief anti-hero of the WWE. The film represents Austin's first (and, gratefully, thusfar his only) attempt to be a leading man, after a decade and a half of guzzling beer, rolling around with half-naked dudes, and flipping the bird in the middle of a misnomered square in front of millions of people. It was also an attempt for WWE Films, the (The Common Man kids you not) movie-making arm of the country's pre-eminent wrestling outfit, to lower the standards for B-movies everywhere (leading to unbelievable grade inflation. On the new scale, if The Condemned is a B-movie, Gigli gets an A++.) and to promote one of its icons.

Now, the plot has actual promise as a sleazy b-movie. Ten convicts (men and women) from around the globe, all awaiting the death penalty, are ferried to an island in the middle of somewhere, where they will fight to the death until only one of them remains, all for the pleasure of an international online audience. There's a black guy and a Japanese guy and a Latino married couple, and a South African mercenary, and some other characters that, frankly, The Common Man was not too disappointed to forget. Most are entirely indistinguishable from one another, aside from skin color. Anyway, one of these convicts is a wrongly accused and convicted American ex-special forces guy who was rotting in a Guatemalan jail (Guess which character Steve Austin plays!).

Anyway, things begin going awry quickly when the show's production team begins to revolt against the executive producer. When, surprise surprise, the female contestants start getting cruelly raped and killed by their fellow players, the men and women in the control booth start getting a little squeamish. Of course, the producer wants to hear none of this. His viral snuff film is supposed to make him billions, after all. And so around and around they go, debating morality and ethics and wringing their hands that people will be entertained by realistic violence.

Note: It's important to remember, at this point, that the movie was produced by the WWE, a consistent source of violent entertainment several nights a week, and that, as the controllers are still debating, the film undercuts its own moral message by continuing to revel in the torture and killing of its actors.

The larger film tries to come off as the ultimate macho grudge match, with a kitchy plot and a lot of action. But frankly, the action doesn't deliver as promised. For a professional "athlete," Austin seems incapable of doing stunts that last longer than a few frames of film at a time. As though he's simply not gifted at using his body as anything other than a giant tank. So his fight scenes are all shot using very shaky handicams that do not capture one entire person, let alone an entire fight. And because of all this, with all the shaking and cuts involved, the film gives the distinct impression that Steve Austin can't fight worth a damn.

Also, because of the sketchy camera work, it's hard to figure out what's going on. When Austin fights another white guy, you're out of luck until the end. If you haven't guessed the end of the movie already, it's impossible to tell who wins until one guy is standing, bloodily triumphant, over his fallen foe. It's impossible to build any kind of suspense or momentum. And, perhaps most importantly, it gives The Common Man a damn headache, and perhaps a seizure (there's about 3 minutes of the movie that The Common Man is "missing"). The Common Man wonders how impressive this concept could have been with someone like an in-his-prime Chuck Norris in it. As it is, it just sucks to watch.

So, despite its manly undertones, and its copious explosions and prevelent violence, The Common Man has to give this "film" just half a ball. It gives him no pleasure to do so (much like the movie itself), but it clearly has earned it. The horrible, unintelligible, seizure-inducing action sequences would be reason enough without all the whining and hypocrisy about being entertained by violence. But since the hypocrisy is there, The Common Man feels compelled to mention that too. And all of that is not taking into account that the movie stars a man who pleaded no contest to beating his third wife.

D*#k Flicks: Murderball

As the Olympics play in the background at The Common Man's house, he is thinking about athletes and the nature of athleticism. What makes badminton a sport worthy of Olympic glory, after all (all that flailing is awfully undignified. Very unmanly)? Why not ultimate frisbee? Why rhythmic gymnastics and not breakdancing? Why the cycling individual chase and not, um, tandem cycling? C'mon, who doesn't want to see bicycles built for two racing? Think how wide they'd have to take the corners.

Anyway, Quad Rugby is not an Olympic sport (it's a paralympic sport), and maybe it shouldn't be. The Olympics is designed so that any athlete from anywhere gets a chance to show off their skills. To be a quad rugby player, you must have some dysfunction in all four of your limbs. You also have to be, The Common Man learned from watching the impressive documentary Murderball, pretty badass. The film profiles the U.S. and Canadian Quad Rugby teams as they prepare for the 2004 paralympic games in Athens and the various ways in which they are awesome.

The film builds drama and tension by focusing on the rivalry between Canadian coach Joe Sores, a hero on the 1996 team who turned his back on US Quad rugby after being cut from the squad (he was getting too slow), and the team he left behind, and their shared dream of winning the gold medal at the 2004 games. One of the U.S. players nonchalantly explains that, "If Joe was on the side of the road on fire, I wouldn't piss on him to put it out." And as that rivalry intensifies between the two, to a climactic showdown in Athens, the film glorifies them. It explores their flaws, certainly, but uses them as a means to explain how and why they are so impressive. The film helps transform them in the viewers eyes from quadriplegics to men, jocks even, who have the same needs and most of the same abilities as the rest of America. It chronicles how they have sex, their personal relationships with their girlfriends and families, and their work and home lives. It humanizes them, particularly those whose limbs no longer look human.

It's an eye-opening look at a subculture of Americans who are often misunderstood and misrepresented. It demonstrates that manliness is not a physical trait, but a mental one. The punishment that these players took (in their lives and on the rugby court) and their enthusiasm to put their bodies on the line again speaks volumes about their toughness, their resolve, and their tenacity, to say nothing of their skill. It's one thing to see grown men throw themselves at one another on a football field. It's another to see men fall out of their wheelchairs, knowing that they won't be able to pick themselves back up and that the wrong kind of fall could exacerbate their injuries. That kind of competitiveness is foreign to most men, but it is another opportunity these players see to prove themselves. Another way to demand respect.

The film is exciting, brutal, and honest. And it sympathetically profiles everyone involved (sometimes hard to do with the Canadian coach), but admits that some of them are jackasses. It shows them at their best and explains their worst. It does not fawn over them. And so, for teaching that manliness comes from within, for highlightings some truly impressive dudes, for being funny and tense, and for being amped up on testosterone, The Common Man gives Murderball two big balls. Brass ones. The Common Man is tempting to call it inspiring, but doesn't want to get beat on by U.S. Quad Rugby spokesman Mark Zupan.



The 2008 games are set to begin on September 6th in Beijing. Sadly, none of it will be shown on American television. Good job, ESPN. The Common Man is sure he'll enjoy watching SportsCenter 14 times in a row, followed by 4 hours of commentators yelling at one another over manufactured controversies, followed by women's billiards. Thanks. Maybe once ESPN 12 is up and running?

D*#k Flicks: High Noon

There are simply some things that a man has to do, some situations he cannot back down from. And so, The Common Man finally sat down and watched High Noon, the 1952 classic Western starring Gary Cooper, Grace Kelly, and Lloyd Bridges. It's hard to believe that, in 30 years (almost half of which he's had access to cable), The Common Man hadn't seen the film until now. It is, after all, one of the most important and iconic films of the 1950s, perhaps of all time. It boasts perhaps the best example of a real man in a starring role. And it isn't that long anyway, clocking in at less than an hour and a half. You'd think The Common Man could have spared an 90 minutes at some point in his life for such a juicy film. But no, you'd have been wrong.

You can tell from the start that things will go poorly for Cooper's Will Kane, an aging town marshall who is giving up his badge after succeeding in restoring Hadleyville to a measure of peaceful law and order. In the first scene, Kane is getting married to a Quaker, played by Grace Kelly in her first starring role. Any story that starts with a wedding can't go well, even if that wedding is to Grace Kelly (mmm...Grace Kelly). As the supposed pinnacle of love, devotion, and happiness (hi, honey!), the wedding is a culmination of good, it is the end point. If it's the journey's beginning, everything must go downhill from there.

Indeed, word soon comes that local ruffians, who Kane sent to the gallows, have been pardoned and are on their way back. Kane's friends, the town's most prominent citizens, scoot he and his wife out the door, hoping there will be no trouble. But Kane can't run. He tells his wife, "It's no good. I've got to go back.... They're making me run. I've never run from anybody before." And so he turns around. His wife demands to know why he'd risk his life, knowing that she abhors violence and that he's inviting a confrontation. He tells her, knowing she won't understand, "I've got to. That's the whole thing."

Indeed, Kane knows that a real man cannot run from his responsibilities. He knows that trouble will follow him unless he meets it head on. He knows that there are simply some things a man has to do. And he returns to Hadleyville to do it.

Knowing he'll need help, he turns to his friends and asks them to become deputies, but they, one-by-one deny him. Some are cowards. Some are greed and covetous. Some deny that the problem exists or hope it will pass them by. And some just don't care. His mentor, who also refuses to fight, tells him that "People gotta talk themselves into law and order before they do anything about it. Maybe because down deep they don't care. They just don't care," and, in this case, he's right. Even his wife abandons his cause, boarding the first train out of town with Kane's ex-girlfriend. He becomes a Christ-like figure, wandering through town, trying to find anyone to stand with him. But no one will.



Kane faces down his demons and prevails, of course, because he's a bad-ass and because he's a real man. He realizes that often, in the end, men must stand alone and fight their own battles, and he does so with integrity, resilience, bravery and intelligence. In the end, his wife comes back to him and decides her love is stronger than her convictions, and she kills one of his attackers. But as the curtain closes, Kane tosses his badge in the dirt. His faith in humanity and its virtue are gone. Indeed, he is alone. Hemingway must have loved this movie.

Unlike most Westerns, the film is short on action, which occurs in two short bursts at the end. But it ratchets up the suspense by being shot in real time, constantly freezing on clock faces as the seconds tick down to the villains' noon arrival. And it builds its tension by making Kane's situation seem increasingly hopeless as the minutes tick away. He becomes more and more pathetic as he walks through the town, virtually pleading with the townsfolk to do the right thing. But no one will. Finally, at his lowest, he considers leaving, but returns, writes a last letter at his desk, and releases the town drunk from jail. To the end, he remembers his responsibilities and calmly meets his fate. By the time he hits the town streets, letting trouble find him, he has recovered his dignity and is prepared for the inevitable showdown.

By today's standards, perhaps this film would not be a hit. But it shows manhood at its finest, using one of the great manly actors to do it. Kelly's character serves as the prototypical wet blanket female, the forerunner to Talia Shire's Adrian in the Rocky movies. And the brisk, downward spiral may end with Kane's victory over evil, but his soul's defeat at the hands of cowardice and apathy. It's a classic for a reason, a true d*#k flick, and The Common Man awards it two very big balls for modeling true manliness for the rest of us.

Cranky

The Common Man is proud to introduce a new feature today, which was inspired by DirecTV's generous offer to provide The Common Man and the Uncommon Wife with Showtime and Starz free of charge for three months and by The Common Man's refusal to go to bed at a decent hour, dammit. <
For years, men have had to suffer through films like How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days and The Lake House, dragged to the local theatre or the drama aisle by well-meaning girlfriends and wives who just have to watch The Notebook or The Prince of Tides or Sweet Home Alabama. Then, sadly, men are forced to suffer through two hours of Ryan Gosling or Matthew McConaughey or some other McDreamy churn through some plot that any intelligent person already knows the ending to.

Frankly, The Common Man feels slightly ignored by the movie industry these days. Sure, men are typically attracted to the action movies with their big explosions, sexy dames, and choreographed fights. But, let's face it, the vast majority of these movies star Matt Damon, Orlando Bloom, or some other eye-candy to bring in the lady-type viewers. Even the new Batman movie (which The Common Man is going to see tomorrow, so don't give anything away please) is appealing to both genders. Christian Bale? Aaron Eckhardt? The Uncommon Wife can't wait to get to the theater.

No, guys need more movies just for them. Movies they don't have to share. Movies their wives and girlfriends will be embarrassed to admit seeing. And so, it is with great pleasure that The Common Man announces a new genre, the D*#k Flick. Movies for guys. Every so often, The Common Man will pop up to review a D*#k Flick, letting you know exactly what was so wonderful or terrible about it from the man's perspective. And now, to the impetus of today's column, the 2006 release, Crank.

Crank is either the single most self-aware action movie of all time or an hour-and-a-half tutorial on taking uppers. Jason Statham stars as Chev Chelios, an assassin for hire who's about to hang up his silencer for good in order to be with his girlfriend Eve (Amy Smart). As you might expect, Chelios's bosses are less than amused at his decision and poison him with a chemical that is slowing his body down. To stay alive, Chelios must keep his adrenaline levels extremely high. To this end, he steals cars, drives through shopping malls, shoots at cops and criminals alike, has (very) public sex, takes cocaine, drinks an obscene amount of caffeine, terrorizes a hospital in an attempt to get a shot of epinephrine, and swears a lot (dropping an m-effer is known to tick your adrenaline levels up by 1-2%, apparently). Also, he remembers to stop and buy flowers for his girl. See, he's a sweet hitman on a rampage who kills anyone in his path.



Anyway, the film is essentially a live-action "Grand Theft Auto," to the point where the first scene is shot in first-person and the opening credits look like '80s video game graphics. Chelios careens through Los Angeles on a mission to kill the gangsters who have killed him with almost no resistance from law enforcement and no consequences. The film is an adrenaline-filled power-trip of male fantasies. That said, it never stops winking at the audience.

Frankly, the film is better than Statham deserves. Since bursting onto the Hollywood scene in the terrific 2000 film Snatch, Statham has made a career of starring in high-concept, high-action, low-brow, and low-effort action movies. He's the British, 21st century Sylvester Stallone. Seriously, his filmography is wall-to-wall adrenaline-pumping action movies, The One, The Transporter (1, 2, and, coming soon, 3), Cellular, Revolver, In the Name of the King, War, The Bank Job, and the upcoming releases Death Race (blatantly and shamefully reimagining the cult-classic Death Race 2000, which, of course, starred Sly Stallone) and Crank 2. Any lazy director looking around for an intimidating British anti-hero in the last 8 years has called Statham first, and he's been happy to oblige. His one moderate success was as part of an ensemble cast in the mediocre Mini-Cooper commercial, The Italian Job.

And it's not like this is a good movie. It's definitely not. But it revels in the fact that it's a bad movie. First time writers and directors Mark Neveldine and Brian Taylor never let the film break character, cranking the action up to 11 (this one goes to 11) and refusing to back off as they hit and exceed all the typical extravagances of action movies. Explosions? Yes, so many things explode in this movie. Chase scenes? Definitely, through a crowded mall. And while receiving oral sex. Gratuitous sex? Absolutely. The aforementioned chase scene, and an absurd scene in which Statham and Smart are having sex up against a newspaper box, surrounded by cheering Chinese onlookers (some of whom are schoolgirls). All that and more. Blood and violence? Um, yes. Yes, there is. Severed hands, shots to the head, etc., etc.

As such, what could have been a mind-numbing experience turns into campy, hilarious fun. The film doesn't take itself at all seriously, and that's a good thing. The film gets serious points for its self-mockery and ridiculousness. It loses points for making me at all care what happens to Jason Statham.

So, in all, The Common Man would give this film 1 ball (2 being the highest you can go without being some kind of genetic freak). While an excellent movie for guys, it was not necessarily a good movie in general. It seemed more a glorification of the kind of violence that inhabits video games like Grand Theft Auto than a knowing condemnation of it. No one learns anything, least of all the audience, except that violence is awesome. If it could have bridged the gap to become satire, it would have gotten at least half a ball more. So now, excuse The Common Man. Not that he's influenced by popular culture or anything, but he's going to go snort an eight-ball and rob a bank.