David Mamet

Mamet is primarily a prolific screenwriter who has written for many movies he didn’t direct, such as The Edge, Glengarry Glen Ross (which won a Pulitzer), The Untouchables, and Wag the Dog. As a director, his movies are less well-known. I think it’s fair to say his directing ability is limited, but it seems like he does what he knows the best he can. Many of his movies, unfortunately, start to feel the same. He uses many of the same cast repeatedly (Joe Montegna, William H. Macy, his two wives, his half-brother) and his movies often feel like stage-plays on screen when he’s directing them. No doubt part of that reason is that his scripts are dialogue-heavy and there is significant focus on the lines and the actor’s faces. That’s not to say that other directors always improve upon his scripts, but I get the feeling Mamet is not very comfortable with music and spectacle, at least from a cinematic standpoint.

That said his dialogue is always fun. Mamet-Speak involves characters using well-enunciated and emphasized dialogue to manipulate one another, while frequently interrupting. I imagine it’s a blast for actors.

Spartan: The plot of Spartan reads like a Robert Ludlum novel. A U.S. secret agent (Val Kilmer) is assigned to rescue the kidnapped daughter of a government official, but lo and behold, not everyone wants him to succeed in his task. The least memorable of the Mamet movies I’ve seen. Kilmer doesn’t help things much, but the script left me cold. A suspense thriller isn’t as thrilling when one doesn’t care about the characters, and there was no one to root for (or against) here.

Grade: C

Homicide: A policeman is assigned to a murder case not even the FBI can crack but is redirected to another murder case of a Jewish lady. Not surprisingly a Jewish hate group is behind both murders. The plot is not memorable, but the performance of Joe Mantegna most certainly is. The sets are also chilling and the movie is well shot. I probably don’t see myself watching it again, but if you like Mantegna, it’s worth a once-over.

Grade: B-

House of Games: A psychiatrist (with not even the lightest grasp of professional boundaries) agrees to help a patient get out of gambling debt. She succeeds by excelling at a poker game with the people who want to destroy her patient. She then gets recruited for assignments where she utilizes her “skill” to earn more money for the boss, as well as his love, she hopes. The plot is ridiculous, but it’s cleverly written and has some classic Mamet speeches. Mantegna is superb here as well, and Mamet gets a decent performance out of his wife, Lindsay Crouse, who has done made-for-TV movies almost exclusively.

Grade: B-

State and Main: The only comedy on this list, David Mamet ventures into black humor and screwball hijinx with this romp about a big-budget movie crew out of a place in a small New England town. The director (William H. Macy) is a smooth talker who can get his actors to agree to anything, the screenwriter breaks his moral code to get things done, and the actors are pretty much all high maintenance. While the movie is a bit meandering, it has some true laugh-out-loud moments and a lot of grin-worthy ones, with some solid bit parts by Alec Baldwin, Philip Seymour Hoffman, and Matt Malloy. My favorite part is Macy constantly placating his disgruntled crew by offering them executive producer credits!

Grade: B

The Spanish Prisoner: The plot is mostly irrelevant here. All you need to know is this movie is one elaborate, twisting, confidence game with so many plot twists it’ll make your head spin. Mamet does an excellent job at making it all believable. Even better, he gets an exceptional performance out of Steve Martin, making me wish he’d stop doing comedies forever. Ben Gazzara and Campbell Scott are also good. His wife is just kind of there, but she doesn’t ruin any scenes she’s in.

Grade: A-

Other David Mamet Movies You May Have Seen

Things Change
Oleanna
The Winslow Boy
Heist

Movies: Director Series

I use the amazing site Criticker to rank the movies I’ve seen. While the site doesn’t contain near the gluttony of information that IMDb does, it has a fantastic algorithm predicting what movies I’ll like and it’s almost always right. Anyway, I was looking for some patterns among my scores based on who was involved with the films. I quickly noticed that actors has virtually no predictive power. Take Meryl Streep, for example. She’s superb in nearly everything she’s in, but she’s been in several great and several awful movies. Nearly every actor you could find the same thing. This makes sense on a basic level as well. If Baby Geniuses 6 (yes, there’s five of those freaking movies, and Jon Voight is set to be in the fifth)  starred Daniel Day-Lewis, Nicole Kidman, and the ghost of Alec Guinness, it would still tank unless it had the best marketing campaign ever. And even then it would still be awful.

I thought perhaps the screenwriter would have fairly predictive power, but looking through my list that doesn’t appear to be the case either. For example, Luc Besson wrote the screenplay to Taken, a compact, smart action movie with some excellent lines. But he also wrote the script to Taken 2, which has eye-gouging dialogue and a meandering plot. Did he get lazy? Was his script butchered? I don’t know. But I do know that the sequel had a different director.

And when I sorted my rankings by director, I noticed more parallels than with any other category. Of course, some good directors have some bizarre flops and some mediocre directors have a shining star in their catalogue, but for the most part the rankings were consistent.

Now, I’m barely more qualified to critique directors than I am music (I’ve seen fewer than 1,000 movies), but I so enjoyed this exercise that I decided to do daily reviews of the movies of various directors where I’ve seen at least three of their movies. I won’t use my Criticker ratings, as those have more meaning to me than anyone else. So I’ll use a simple A-F grading system, going from worst to best movie.

I hope you enjoy this exercise as well, and I invite anyone to recommend additional movies by (or tell me to run away from) the upcoming directors. This week’s schedule:

Monday: David Mamet
Tuesday: Tony Scott
Wednesday: Tom Shadyac
Thursday: Barry Levinson
Friday: Rob Reiner

Snared Condor

Anyone who knows me probably knows what this is about. I was in a pretty dark place.

When I look into your eyes I see;
Me.

You look away.

Dammit. I’m lost. Where are you?
You’re saying something. I nod. Doesn’t matter.
You’re not looking, anyway.

This table. This chasm.
Who? What destroyed this bridge?
What bridge?
This table is brick.

You glance. You drug. More bricks.
Bricks don’t move.
And you sure as hell won’t climb over.

My fingers. Sweet condor.
Your face looks perfect.
These talons. Dig. Dig. Dig.
Your face still looks perfect. Dammit.

Why are you staring at me?
Dammit.

“I love you,” I respond.

“I love you, too.”

I hate myself.

When I look into your eyes I see;
Who am I kidding?

I can’t see a goddamn thing.

The Dreams Of My Father

Dance with eternity
Chortled my master
Dance…

But I said no
and woke up

I heard him beckon
But he was drowned out
By the noise of my Father

Time to get ready

Swim to the sky
I heard showered above me
Swim…

But I said no
and dried off

I felt her beckon
But her words were devoured
By the mouth of my Father

Time to get going

Nourish your world
Growled within me
Nourish…

But I said no
and muzzled the hunger

I heard him beckon
But he was broken
By the fists of my Father

Time to get working

Rest the hands
My mind beseeched
Rest…

But I said no
and worked harder

I felt her beckon
But she was damned
By the words of my Father

Time to get wasted

Strengthen your soul
Preached the bum on the corner
Strengthen…

But I said no
and ignored my spirit

I heard him beckon
But he was destroyed
By the hate from my Father

Time to get dinner

Love me tonight
Whispered the woman beside me
Love…

But I said no
and prayed heed to my master

I felt her beckon
But she faded away
In the dreams of my Father

The Dream Recycling Center

Tomorrow thrives on broken dreams
For tomorrow is the dream recycling center

Attention everybody! Step right up!
Come and drink from tomorrow’s cup!
I hand out dreams, and that’s my decree!
Get them while they last! Today they’re free!

Here’s an upper management position for you
And a Ph.D. for the man in blue
A white picket fence for the lady in white
And a trip to Paris, oh what a site!

These dreams could be yours!
It’s easy, you see?
Work hard and be proud!
Just remember, they’re free!

What’s that you say?
No time it seems?
Just cancel some plans
To follow your dreams

The rewards will be plenty
Don’t worry, they’ll come
Work hard or to failure
You’ll surely succumb

Your dreams never came?
Surely a mistake
Tomorrow’s perfect
For Heaven’s sake

You’re dying? So sad
This fills me with sorrow
That soon for you there
WIll be no tomorrow

You whisper with hope
One more dream please
Something to put your
Frail mind at ease

Don’t worry, don’t fret
Alas, have no fear!
Tomorrow’s your guide
We’ve got everything here!

Tis love you wish for?
Wonderful indeed
Let me go search for this
Last thing you need

Oh, sorry, I’m afraid
I’ve got some bad news
Love’s the one thing
That tomorrow eschews

You see love ain’t exactly
A predictable lot
We tried long before
But make it we could not

So I fare thee well
And wish you the best
And hope that you’ve passed
The ultimate test

Meanwhile I’m busy
Got more dreamers to see
I’ll just recycle your dreams
And offer them free

Lest I Have Wings

Wrapped up in cynicism
My defense of all things
To protect me from falling
Lest I have wings

Wrapped up in cynicism
A cloak for my heart
Readily convenient
When things fall apart

Wrapped up in cynicism
An excuse at the most
To lift up my ego
While berating a ghost

Wrapped up in cynicism
Mind over matter
Results in the bleakness
Of indifferent chatter

Wrapped up in cynicism
A joke to their ear
But sadly my soul
Only sees fear

To Err Is Human?

Last week turned out to be fairly popular (and I’m still working on my next list) so this week you get the rest of my poetry that’s okay for public consumption. Hope it’s not too angsty for ya’ll.

To err is human
But I will contend
That err is subjective
As human minds bend

To change is human
Just look to the past
But compared to our fathers
Our knowledge is vast

To grow is human
But remember we die
And to say we’re more moral
Would just be a lie

To die is human
The end of the line
But that would not make us
Different from swine

To believe is human
That somwhere is hope
But where has hope got us
How can we cope

To love is human
Most wonderful state
Seemingly flawless
But what about hate

To err is not human
Of that I’m aware
But even more likely
To human is err

Today’s A Gift

I had landed my space pod
Down by Cobra Lake
When I was accosted by a snake named Caesar.

I started to laugh about his name;
he said, “Actually, it’s quite germane.”
“I was almost a salad.”

I inquired if he was packaged in cabbage.
He said, “No, romaine.”

He stuck his fangs into my heel;
I asked if I was his next meal.
He sank in deeper.

“Is that poison?” I asked out of habit.
He said, “How should I know?”
“I’ve never done this before.”

Before I could speak, he said his
Future was at stake.
And if he could just leave Cobra Lake…

So the two of us hopped into
My road-ready shuttle
To search for the nearest new home

And as he blithely pondered new life
I contemplated my past
Two souls striving to decipher

We drifted together…

Into the path of a very present Dodge Viper.

The Friendless Frog

I wrote the following on the back of receipts while I was cashiering at Target. That fact doesn’t relate to the poem in anyway, other than to say boredom can be inspiring.

A Peruvian frog
hopped on my lap
and croaked “Hello chap!”
“What’s shakin’?”

I looked into his beady eyes
He smiled and said, “You be surprised?”
“Well, no” I replied.

Then he did a somersault.
I yawned.

He stuck out his hand
An ampersand
Tattooed in lavender;
I showed him mine.

“What’s it take?”
The frog inquired.
I just stared up at the sky
and smiled.

I thought he got it when he sat
Quietly, upon my lap.

But then he perked his head and said
“You buffoon!”

“I cannot jump over the moon!”

Steering

My, oh my
Said the cow, to I

No good to mulch
This grass is yellow
Now what now
Two legged fellow?

Tis green, said me
Cannot you see?

A tasty lunch
I show to you
Just bend like this
And start to chew

Well, oh well
Is this not a sight?
I give thee my bell
For I walk upright

I went to protest
This necklace of new
But my speech consisted
Of only a moo