1981

Pennies from Heaven.
Premiered January 1, 1982.
Directed by Herbert Ross.
Starring Steve Martin, Bernadette Peters, Christopher Walken.
Music by Ralph Burns, Con Conrad, Marvin Hamlisch, Billy May.


     In 1934, Chicago and the rest of North America is still reeling from the Depression. Arthur Parker (Martin) sells sheet music and has a sexually unsatisfying relationship with his wife Joan. He longs to start his own business selling records, and with the money Joan's father left her when he died, he could do it. but she refuses to invest it in his plan. Arthur looks for a bank loan, but is refused (and this adorably out of place thing happens). He heads off to sell his wears when he meets Eileen (Peters), a plain but beautiful school teacher. He falls in love with her. One thing leads to an other, she gets pregnant, loses her job and because he won't support her, becomes a prostitute. He, on the other hand, opens his record store, kind of mends things with his wife, is accused of murder, and ends up on the run with the now world weary and cynical Eileen.

     This film was originally adapted from an English mini series that ran in 1978 (which is equally good if not better). It blends a devastating depression-era story with musical numbers set to similarly aged music. The juxtaposition between the two makes for a unique understanding of the characters and the time they live in. At this point, there were people in America literally starving to death. But the upper classes were living so well still that most of them hardly noticed the difference. And the music being produced at the time didn't help that disillusion. It was all painful positive and worked awfully hard to dispel (or at least mask) the very real sadness that encapsulated the lives of so many.

     There's a really effective use of color palate. In sections of the film depicting reality, the whole scene is dull and washed out. There's almost a haze like dust hanging in the air (maybe because no one was able to grow crops and everything was actually really dusty).  When the musical numbers start up, and often out of nowhere, the plate brightens and sparkles (here is a perfect example). This proves a lovely physical analog for the contrast between the nature of their real life and that of their dreams. On that note, the costuming is incredible. The dress pictured above that Eileen dons in the middle of one of her lessons is only the tip of the ice berg.

     While it is technically beautiful, the film relies heavily on production design in conveying it's grandiose appeal. Herbert Ross is less the auteur than other directors, as most of the work he's done is choreography for Broadway productions (so his style is more evident in the dance present in the film). The unique nature of the film is derived more so from it's twisted take on a musical, the performances delivered by the cast (particularly Bernadette Peters), and the fabulously choreographed and edited musical numbers (I'd like to draw everyone's attention to this).

     I haven't talked about it yet, but editing is king. Editing can make or break a film. Loose editing ruins the illusion of film just as much as seeing the boom mic dip into the frame, in some cases. In this scene (pictured to the left), the editing is so important. While it certainly does rely heavily on the dancing talent of Chris Walken (who knew?), it would be nothing with out sharp cuts in exactly the right places. Particularly when he goes from dancing in front of the bar to leaping onto the pool table is the editing really stellar. Film is a little like writing in that sense. Nobody would want to read something with unnecessary commas and flabby, untrimmed sentences, just the way no one would want to watch a scene with long shots that should have been short and a fade out that should have been a hard cut.

     Boiling it down, this film outlines what it's like to never deal with anything. The main character Arthur spends the whole film externalizing his fear of committing by applying blame to those around him. He could be happy with his wife if she would only be more enthusiastic in the bedroom. He could open his dream shop if only he had his wife's money, and then if only the bank would give him a loan. He could be a rich man, if only every time it rained, it rained pennies from heaven.


8/10.


It's time for the honorable mentions. Coming at you are such stellar titles as Raiders of the Lost Arch (a big collective sigh for Steven Spielberg's directorial style and Harrison Ford's chiseled face/body combo), An American Werewolf in London (actually a really good film. It's about monsters, but it's really smart cinema),  and Absence of Malice (because Sydney Pollack is the bomb diggity).


Peace,
Gang.