When it comes to absolute influences to me creatively, Steve Martin is one of the biggest. Whether he be writing or performing, his exact energy and his deft ability to elaborate and diversify it has always been something I’ve admired and always something I’ve aspired to be anywhere close to. The range of his performance naturally deserves multiple articles and so I start today with a look at the films of his where he simply performed, without any hand in the writing of the film (officially of course that is). Starting with 1984’s The Lonely Guy.
The Lonely Guy (Dir. Arthur Hiller, 1984)
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You might not realise it, but this is actually the closest we got to recreating one of the great comedies ever made, that of Elaine May’s The Heartbreak Kid. For not only is this based upon a Bruce Jay Friedman book, not only does it star Charles Grodin, but it’s also from an adaptation by Neil Simon. Now, of course. Charles Grodin is not the lead, Steve Martin is. Nor is this a sole screenwriting credit to Neil Simon, in fact Simon’s only credit is ‘adaptation by’, the two credited screenwriters are that of Ed Weinberger and Stan Daniels, and even then Martin and Grodin have said often that they improvised much of their dialogue. But much of the team is still there. With a few changes, whereas May took her Simon script and made it a dry and painfully awkward affair, Arthur Hiller in directing The Lonely Guy here is in a similar collaboration with Martin, as such as Carl Reiner had time and time again. For gags and gags galore fill this movie, which has as much heart as it does brilliant humour. Bar a bit of an annoying synth score from Jerry Goldsmith, with smatterings of orchestral swells that work a charm, The Lonely Guy goes from scene to scene, episode to episode, with an incredible pace and makes for one of Martin’s best utilisations beyond his work with Frank Oz, Carl Reiner or from his own words. The role is so perfect for Martin here that it really couldn’t be better, the script utilises all of Martin’s best assets as a performer, even if it wasn’t written specifically for him, or whether he did have a large hand in moulding to his talents.
Here there is a great craft of differing gags, ranging from the simple one liner, to the sort of improvisational dialogue exchanges between Martin and Grodin, to the plainly slapstick... The Lonely Guy has everything. Martin is of course on top form, but Grodin, my God, I mean I’m never surprised that Grodin is always hilarious, but this film just made me love him even more and more. Judith Ivey too as Martin’s love interest is delightful and hilarious and never once comes off as a simple goal for the character, she doesn’t get a huge amount to do, don’t get me wrong – this is of course still Martin’s Larry’s story, but her character is depthful and every bit as funny as Grodin and Martin are. Then of course there is the simple fact of the matter... I am a lonely guy. Now there have been plenty of slips along the way in articles that I’m sure constant readers (not that there are any) will have no doubt noticed, but there really is something about the inherent sincerity and humour at the heart of this film when it comes to presenting that of, well, us lonely guys. The film dissects, points fun at, has fun with and ultimately engrosses the viewer into immense empathy for the type like us. One could apply modern cynicism, but what’s the point? There will always be lonely people, as the hilarious opener of the film, depicting lonely folks through time informs us, and of course we have an array of rom-coms and depressing dramas depicting loneliness, but there isn’t really just a hilarious comedy that is as much equal parts heart-warming and equal parts knowing as this is.
Little Shop of Horrors (Dir. Frank Oz, 1986)
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Now at the core of Frank Oz’s pitch perfect musical adaptation of Menken and Ashman’s Little Shop of Horrors is a profound cinematic quality that never relents and is something that a terribly high number of stage to film adaptations fail to capture or emulate. This is by far one of my favourite musical to film adaptations and I really do feel that in everyway Oz and his team managed to bring (especially so in the directors cut) every element of the shows ingenious quality and immense joy to the screen. Number after number the film rises to the challenges presented within the text and at such a pace with there never being a single moment wasted or not delivered to the very fullest level possible. Rick Moranis as Seymour is so pitch perfect that he is undeniable and a far better singing voice than he has ever been given credit for, paired with Ellen Greene reprising her stage appearance as Audrey managing to immortalise on screen her enigmatic and endlessly beautiful rendition of the tortured angel that is Audrey. It is the directors cut every day of the week for me with this film, not only because of the sensational practical effects that were created in the genuinely visually astounding finale, but also for the smaller moments such as Audrey’s death where both the score, Green and Moranis and Oz bring to the screen such sensationally well judged emotionality that never once eeks into absurdness or camp, despite the naturally outrageous overall sensibility of the film. However this is a Steve Martin article and Martin’s supporting performance as the demon dentist Orin Scrivello D.D.S is frankly one of the all-timer single song film stealing turns in a musical we have ever received – so perfectly assuming the role of the villain and the terrifying scumbag, whilst still managing to make it humorous in the perfect tangling of dark humour that the original musical does such a fine job at handling. Martin is just yet another perfect addition to a film that is not only perfect in my eyes, but is one of the most underrated musicals full stop. A sensational piece of film and some of Oz’s finest direction.
Planes, Trains and Automobiles (Dir. John Hughes, 1987)
It’s an old adage and it’s a solid one that I still go by. For me, there is simply no better review for simplicity. The review has never been more apt. The film is John Hughes masterful Plane, Trains and Automobiles and the review is “it’ll make you laugh, it’ll make you cry and all less than two hours”. One of my other favourite phrases that I return to often in film criticism is that “the film strives in its simplicity”. There’s just something undeniable about this film. For me there is something undeniably perfect about the script, direction and performances in this film. And as I aforementioned, it’ll make you laugh and it’ll make you cry. I don’t quite know why, but in attempting to describe the brilliance of this film, I find myself simply lost for words. Such is the power of this terrific film. Martin here is at his most straight man, playing off against John Candy’s powerhouse turn as Del Griffith, but that is to ignore that both men don’t take their turn being the loud-mouth, or take their turn being the sentimental heart. Martin is blunt, dry and course, even revelling in immense vulgarity at times, whereas Candy is nothing but heart and warmth, whilst also having some epically dry lines to have real fun delivering. Hughes as story-teller crafts his tale with an efficiency like no other film in this article. Not only is this one of Martin’s best performances, but this is most definitely one of the best films of the 1980’s as a complete drama-comedy product, and certainly, immovably, forever one of my favourite films ever made.
Dirty Rotten Scoundrels (Dir. Frank Oz, 1988)
The ever delightful Steve Martin is suited with his match against a surprisingly hilarious Michael Caine, pitted against each other in spectacular fashion in Frank Oz’s ultimate snob V slob film. Both going up against each other to swindle the similarly brilliant late Glenne Headly as Janet Colgate. The film is constantly twisting our expectations and genuinely never fails to make us laugh hysterically. From an air-tight script by Dale Launer adapting the 60’s film Bedtime Story from Stanley Shapiro and Paul Henning into something far stronger and far more entertaining without an inch of datedness or time roughening its gleam. This is a very emotional and sentimental film for me, as a matter of fact as soon as we hear the first strings of Miles Goodman’s wonderful score I am transported, however I really do wish for it to be clear that I don’t feel my opinions are biased in anyway. I think firmly that this is one of the stronger comedies of the era and a sublime combination of talents with Martin once again working with Frank Oz, taking their partnership into a realm that I really think is up there with the finest director and actor collaborations we talk about. Martin as the initially slimy Freddy is so perfectly paired with Michael Caine’s suave and sophisticated Lawrence and the pair play off each other so beautifully. As an overall narrative aswell despite the film having multiple extended comedic sequences, it never once feels like a series of sketches, despite in so many ways that’s exactly what it is. But it is Glenne Headly, the late great Ms Headly that may be the films ace in the hand – with her humour, innocence and beauty and all the wonderful ways she plays with all three as the film goes on and reaches its inevitable yet always delightfully surprising finale. Oz and Martin once again work together on an impeccably tight screenplay to bring us another of the finest comedies of the era, an unassailable pairing.
Parenthood (Dir. Ron Howard, 1989)
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Just a few years shy of his most iconic performance as a father, Martin took a brief detour and took what could be described as the lead role in Ron Howard’s similarly iconic ensemble family dramedy Parenthood. But of course to call Martin the lead is an erroneous claim to anybody who has seen the film, for the lifeblood of this feature is of course in its widespread cast of characters and actors. Of course Martin is perhaps out focal point, he certainly is the person we start with and spend the most time with, however he can’t help but feel like a grounding force, a centre point to pin and surround the rest of the more outlandishly dramatic, more outlandishly comedic or even more outlandishly eventful characters and plotlines the film amasses. Of course Martin as Gill is the perfect calm centre for this bombastic and volatile film, chronicling the ups and downs (and downs and downs and ups) of a family led by Jason Robards as a somewhat disastrous typical father of the 1950’s and 60’s and his four children beneath him, all with their own differing issues in parenthood and family life. It’s the exact sort of fodder so many multiple year spanning TV shows have made great success with. Parenthood itself has had two TV show reboots through the years. However, in typical fashion, I’m going to return to my boring usual point; I’m so glad that this is a film. With it’s brisk two hour run-time the amount of characters we get through and are given thorough arcs that clash or coincide is an impeccable piece of writing and directing craft. It has one of those rare qualities that even some of the best ensemble pieces don’t have, in that there’s not a single dud. For my money there’s not a single plotline or character that I would cut, everything blends brilliantly and are all terribly entertaining in their own right. And to return to my first point and the point of this article entire, Martin is the perfect centre. Unruly and troubled in his own ways, this is not boring plotless central figure for everything else to hang on. No, this his own character, but a perfect pivotal pin-point centre for everything else to hang on nonetheless and exactly what the film needs to make it the sublime wonderful feature it really, truly is.
My Blue Heaven (Dir. Herbert Ross, 1990)
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What an absolute pitch perfect comedy this is, from an absolutely sublime script by Nora Ephron from inspiration which we will get to in a moment, Herbert Ross directs a story that’s all about the script and performances and manages to deliver wonderful arcs and in a way gives us a crime based, more broadly comedic update on the sort of Frank Capra style heart-warming films of yesteryear. The story of Martin as a gangster being placed into witness protection in a small suburban town only to start causing chaos there too, as he is reunited with old friends he believed to be dead, struggles and gives life help to his FBI supervisor Rick Moranis, and avoids the pressing matter of local authority Joan Cussack, whilst also playing Cupid with her and Moranis. All in all My Blue Heaven is just a tight, brilliant delight. Perhaps of all of Ephron’s scripts this is the one that spends the most time in the world of broad comedy, not that time isn’t spent with romance and drama, but mostly it’s a glorious farce. Not unlike her other collaboration with Martin, the Christmas set Mixed Nuts, which we will get to soon. The film is chapterised, which starts as a crutch, but by the end becomes just as funny as some of the scenes. I had to pause and laugh at one particular chapter title card prior to Martin returning to his branch of crime; “As I am not trained for anything else, I re-embark on my career”. I think it’s particular to note that this film falls in with a weirdly large batch of 80’s mobster comedies (I know this is 1990), along with Jonathan Demme’s Married to the Mob and even Brian De Palma’s Wise Guys, this is certainly for me the best of them. Speaking of wise guys of course, it would be chief to mention that Ephron’s first major spark for this screenplay came from discussion with her husband about a non-fiction book he was penning at the time, the husband was Nicholas Pillegi and the book would eventually become the basis of Goodfellas. It’s weird how many similarities there actually are and this context does make watches very interesting in that department. Carol Kane appears in a small and somewhat thankless role, however other than that the rest of the ensemble all shine, with a crop of character actors from the 70’s and 80’s gangster genre all wonderfully having a wink and some fun here in roles that made them years before. Bill Irwin is here too as a funny side character with the wonderfully funny gimmick that he loves going under-cover more than anything else. And although Moranis is really great here in a leading role that he unfortunately never really got the chance with again, and although Cussack is on top form as she of course always is, here in a similar sort of leading love interest role that she hasn’t had many before or after either. Martin steals the show. Now Steve Martin as an Italian American is its own debate if you want to have it, but here the cartoonishness is perfect for the overall tone of the movie and more so overall the film works brilliantly with all its wackiness with Martin’s character as somewhat of an actor. No matter how whacky he is himself. It all comes to a gloriously upbeat closer that does remind one at its best of the grand endings Capra classics. Beyond its characters and narrative devices, above all this film has more to share with It’s a Wonderful Life than anything else.
Father of the Bride (Dir. Charles Shyer, 1991)
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There is no better encapsulation of course of Steve Martin in his mainstream movie hay-day than as George Banks here in this remake of the classic Spencer Tracy and Elizabeth Taylor movie of the same name, Father of the Bride. Here updated and fuelled with even more heart and humour by a script by Charles Shyer and his then wife Nancy Meyers, with Shyer directing solo on this outing. Perhaps I’m a little biased, with this being one of my all time favourite comfort movies, especially as a lover of weddings and Martin, and most everybody else involved really. It’s in many ways a perfect comfort film, everything is warm and cosy, none of the humour is too stressful, none of the extreme moments of stress are even that stressful. We are in a blissful world where money doesn’t matter and we can just put on the best film wedding we can with as many over-the-top, no expense spared flourishes as we want, whilst sitting back and enjoying the core story of course being that of Martin coming to terms with his daughter Annie growing up and leaving home to be wed. Let’s stick with Martin before we talk broader. This is Martin in his Parenthood mould again, kind, warm, sincere, suitably goofy and hilarious at times, but overall just the perfect cinematic father, this really is for me ultimately the father-daughter relationship movie, next to of course Paper Moon or other classics. But the chemistry in the performances and in the screenplay between Martin and the absolutely wonderful Kimberly Williams makes for a touching and beautiful, and chiefly realistic and heartfelt exploration of this sort of familial bond. Furthering this bond is that of Dianne Keaton, who on the page could be seen as a little bit of thankless part, there are a few good zingers here and there, but overall one can’t help but feel that her character tales a nessercery sidelines for the central relationship to remain the focus of the film. However Keaton working with Meyers, not for the first, nor for the last time, manages to make the role fill with special moments in a way only she could. Later in this article we will discuss the still enjoyable, but very much more over-the-top and fragmented Part 2, however there are elements of the exaggerated here of course with Martin Short as Franc. Now I guess Franc is either a love him or hate him sort of character, I love him and think that Short actually gives quite a subtle performance for the most part – however I can very much understand if someone to side more on the line of this being an irritating nothing role. B.D Wong sneaks in there too in the world of Franc’s wedding planning as a wonderfully comedic side character that I enjoy more and more on every watch. Overall this first film is one that does have many nit-picky flaws (the whole wedding set-up is ridiculous and the fact that George is constantly at the side just doesn’t make sense at all in a wedding this well organised), but on surface level and for the repeat viewer, it has many of the great things that I long for in a film and in life of course; humour, heart, warmth and weddings.
Housesitter (Dir. Frank Oz, 1992)
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I often find that the most common feeling when it comes to calling a film old fashioned is a negative one. However in the form of Frank Oz’s Housesitter, one really can feel a warm, heartfelt return to a brand of screwball comedy that just wasn’t around in the early 90’s when this film came out, nor for that matter anytime since then either. After discussing multiple films already directed by Oz, I feel I should place a little notice upon that great creative partnership. The true talents of this director can perhaps be seen best within his multiple partnerships with Martin over the years. In the case of Housesitter, paired in a screwball rom-com situation with the always delightful Goldie Hawn (in a role originally planned for Meg Ryan), Martin finds himself once more delivering the goods of his straight man foil with a more intentionally whacky injection of fun and humour. Oz’s direction of Mark Stein’s screenplay allows for this more innocent some might say approach to comedy of a sexual nature to be suitably broad when it needs to be and perfectly subtle in its more tender moments. The films premise is quietly quite mad and so without such strong anchors like Hawn and Martin, one could easily see the film getting away from itself and becoming a ridiculous and over-the-top farce. Although we of course know that both Martin and Oz can certainly deliver such a farce, both on their own and together, Housesitter is a slightly softer film and is a lovely little hidden rom-com gem in Martin’s cannon.
Mixed Nuts (Dir. Nora Ephron, 1994)
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This delightful dark comedic farce written and directed by Nora Ephron (with additional writing from her sister Delia), this screwball wacky Christmas tale is a remake of the 1982 French comedy film Santa is a stinker, and whereas many foreign language adaptations lose things in translation, I find personally that Mixed nuts perfectly encapsulates the hilarity and chaos of the original French farce, along with adding many of its own great gags. Here Martin stars as Phillip, the head of a suicide hotline on Christmas Eve, recently dumped by his fiancé. Martin brings all the dead pan wit and charm that he usually does, along with the warmth that true fans know may just be his greatest performative aspect. This warmth shines brightest in a closing speech that Martin delivers, offering us the words of the Ephron’s with a deep-felt sincerity and lightness that lends to the film’s semi-dark Christmas atmosphere. Despite Martin’s greatness in the film however, the film’s greatest aspect is the rest of its stellar ensemble cast. With a remarkably early and very funny and charming turn from Adam Sandler, a wonderfully whimsy Rita Wilson, a Juliette Lewis that grows on you as the film goes along and some wonderful cameos from Ephron friends aplenty (including Rob Reiner, Parker Posey, Gary Shandling and Jon Stewart). But the great winner of the film is Liev Schreiber, in his theatrical debut, as Chris (who is referred to as a ‘cross dresser’ in the film, but many aspects point to her most likely being ‘trans’ in modern parlance). Schreiber’s similarly warm and funny in the film, but adds a great truth and humanity to Chris, never ever making her the joke and hence making this film feel just as timeless as ever. Schreiber is only bested in the film by the extreme comedic talents of Madeline Kahn, such a juggernaut of fierce diva comedy that she simply sets the screen alight whenever she’s on it. Even stuck in an elevator for the first half of the film, she manages to steal scenes. All in all Ephron creates an overall film that delves into the true sadness for many people around this time of year, whilst also filling a very tight 90 minutes with as many gags as she can and filling us with Christmas cheer and hope for the coming year.
Father of the Bride: Part II (Dir. Charles Shyer, 1995)
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So where do I stand on the sequel? Well. Many of the elements I love from the first are there and are plentiful here too. Martin, Williams, Short, Keaton, Wong and many of the other smaller players are all back and still brilliant in their roles, many of them maximised and enlarged the way that such big budget sequels often do. This bleeds the screenplay and the film itself too. The stakes are higher, there are more characters, there is even more heart, there is even more sub-plots and plot-lines. Does it all work? In the end, for me, yes it does. Probably my least favourite scene in the first film is the extended slap-stick scene at the in-laws where Martin does multiple prat-falls and ends up falling into a pool, classic Martin shtick that he pulls off very well, even if it is my least favourite scene. But the reason it is my least favourite scene is chiefly down to the fact that for me it doesn’t really fit the tone of the rest of the film. Now this second film is filled with such sequences, as a matter of fact rather than them being the minority, they are now the majority. Now technically this should bode well for the film, they are all talented writers and actors in this world of comedy and so if this is what the film is offering and it’s not just one odd scene, then it should be fine. And yes, it is fine, but ultimately for me, it’s only that. I enjoy the second film for the most part and I’m glad that I have in case I feel the urge for a double bill, which I often do, however I can’t say I would ever choose to watch it over the first film. For me this is classic, when I was a kid I preferred this one because it was bigger and more stuff was happening. When I talk to people they always say “I loved the one where they’re pregnant when I was a kid”. Then as you grow up you realise that the first one is by far the better film. Bad examples (because both films are masterpieces in their own right) is how when we’re kids most people prefer Terminator 2 and Aliens, for me this is the case here too. Again, bad example, but I think you know what I’m getting at. Again, it’s more of the same and here that’s a good thing. I’m glad I have it, but also... Well, yeah.
The Spanish Prisoner (Dir. David Mamet, 1997)
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There’s a period of his career where David Mamet, famed playwright, screenwriter and director started working more and more in genre fare. A fine example of this is his 1997 corporate espionage thriller The Spanish Prisoner, a film following a long con led possibly Steve Martin in a cold and calculating brilliant heel turn against the rather unassuming to begin with Campbell Scott. Let’s start with the two M’s. Firstly Mamet is from the off bringing his dynamics of dialogue into what could be seen to begin with as a somewhat pedestrian plot. Not only is the thing filled with a few turns we’ve seen before and better, but also the whole thing is bizarrely shot like a TV movie with even letterboxed framing. I couldn’t find whether this was budgetary or not, but it does leave the film feeling somewhat slight. The ending too somewhat looses it’s steam and culminates in a fashion that feels forced and rushed, especially when compared to the remainder of the film which has such a wonderful pace to it, with its languid doling out of information and twists and fun character dynamics time and time again. Overall The Spanish Prisoner is one of Mamet’s best plots, whereas of course his other films have plots as spring boards for characters and dialogue, here the characters (never the dialogue) come secondary. This is where Mamet fits in, as perhaps the most interesting character of all. Here against type, for the first major time it seemed, in a role written specifically for him by Mamet for this against type reasoning. Overall it leads to an uneasy feeling about the first half of the film. Martin is so devilish in fact that it may be one of my favourite of his non-comedic turns. The film beyond Martin consists of a who’s who of character actors fulfilling the narrative and delivering (for the most part) very well that very specific Mamet dialogue. But as any Mamet fan knows, for as much as that dialogue is pitch perfect in the right hands, when done badly it can be really quite awful. Rebecca Pidgeon here, Mamet’s wife for many years and still to this day, has appeared in abundance in Mamet productions on stage and on screen, however here is so painfully forced and bizarre in every delivery. I’ve never had a performer speak his dialogue so unnaturally before. It leads to the turns of her character that should be shocking, having very little impact beyond the initial surprise. Campbell Scott as a lead is on the right foot of his character from the off however, completely unassuming and bookish and even nebbish in a way, leading him down a path of mistrust, betrayal and ultimate espionage. The stakes are weighted rather oddly to begin with and by the time things become a matter of life and death, we can be really quite surprised by how much the film has leapt in a few scenes, for me this is the film’s biggest flaw. But in the end The Spanish Prisoner is for the most part a very solid thriller that delivers in all the ways it should, with some cracking dialogue and performances to boot.
As I say Martin’s talent deserves multiple articles, and so we continue next week, looking solely at his four collaborations with Carl Reiner. See you then.
- Thomas Carruthers
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