The Rewatch Party

Part two of our Rob Reiner tribute cranks things up from "contractually obligated chaos" to "loving homage" as we continue the end with Spinal Tap 2: The End Continues.  We're looking in the mirror of a movie that hinges entirely on how, despite despising each other for years, people CAN be brought back together by Big Bottoms.

For the first time in Rewatch Party history, we bring in someone who's actually in the movie: Valerie F-ing Franco. Having survived music school with Nick, she now occupies rock's most dangerous chair as drummer Didi Crockett.  So yes, indulge our delight when she casually drops stories about jamming with Paul McCartney, sharing the screen with Elton John, and having Christopher Guest as her personal hype-man. She also confirms the importance of preparation in the luck equation by booking the gig live in the room with McKean, Guest, and Shearer.

From there, we mix reverence and absolute nonsense in the Rewatch Party way.  Val walks us through pitching drum kits themed after every dead Spinal Tap drummer (puke drums, anyone?), the moment John Michael Higgins broke Christopher Guest with a singular question about penis pain, and how Rob Reiner casually requested a blindfold drum solo. And for the economists in the fanbase, of course we unpack the cheese-for-guitars barter economy, and you'll agree Nigel was justified in most of his choices.  

We close out with a genuine tribute to Rob and Michelle Reiner, a possible TRWP henge-related scoop, and the reminder that Didi Crockett is the twelfth drummer: one beyond eleven.

https://www.imdb.com/title/tt20222166/

Rob Reiner. The man’s résumé could get its own standing ovation, but to celebrate his life we hop on tour with This Is Spinal Tap — an impossible film to direct, and yet, somehow he did it.

Ninety five percent improvised. No script. Just a loose roadmap, a camera, and a band of deeply committed idiots pretending to be deeply committed idiots. Anyone can say, “Just keep rolling, we’ll fix it later.” Rob actually pulled it off. We talk about how you direct chaos without strangling it, how you stage jokes that don’t technically exist yet, and why this might be one of the most daring comedy experiments ever captured on film.

The songs are real. The egos are familiar. Somewhere between a “bizarre gardening accident” and the reminder that you cannot dust for vomit, the satire becomes uncomfortably accurate. It’s a mockumentary so authentic it fooled people into thinking Spinal Tap was a real band, and honestly at this point, they kind of are.

If you’ve ever played in a band, dated someone in a band, or adjusted an amp past what is medically advisable, this one hits. Forty years later, it still goes to eleven.

https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0088258/

It’s Manny’s birthday, and he has officially hijacked the host mic. Nick attempts a suspiciously “laid-back” vibe that convinces no one, Elise gets drafted as the ringmaster by default, and Anthony provides steady resistance in the form of skepticism, legal concerns, and the occasional reminder that he is, in fact, a law-abiding citizen. The energy is celebratory, but the guardrails are gone.

This week we break down why Edgar Wright’s 2017 action-musical Baby Driver still presses every one of Manny’s birthday-boy buttons. If you do not personally own a Subaru by the end of the opening chase, we have questions about your judgment. Also, your failure to synchronize your windshield wipers to your Spotify playlist has us questioning your commitment. Real cars, real stunts, real driving, and a director who appears to believe that timing matters more than explosions combine to flip a very specific switch in Manny’s brain.

We also grapple with the slightly uncomfortable experience of hearing Kevin Spacey look into the camera and say, “That’s my baby,” unlock the lingering mystery of “The Yelling,” and ask whether a movie should be allowed this much access to your brain’s question-asking off switch. If confidence were fuel, this film, and this episode, would never need to stop for gas.

We strap on the Oakleys, cue up Limp Bizkit, and immediately start asking the hard questions. Everyone is whispering, doves are everywhere, and Tom Cruise glues himself to a rockface. Yep, John Woo was here. This week we slow motion our way into Mission Impossible 2, a motorcycle kicking, face ripping mad dash where the vibes are immaculate and the plot mostly exists to justify another coat flutter. Along the way we marvel at aggressively yanked terrain warnings, questionable science, Anthony Hopkins popping in like he lost a bet, and another villain who truly believes in the finger snipping bad guy school of management. It is the most year 2000 movie imaginable, and we have a lot of feelings about it.

From exploding sunglasses to masks under masks under worse masks, this movie is operating at maximum swagger and minimum concern for how viruses or gravity work. Thandiwe Newton is asked to carry emotional weight while dodging motorcycles, Tom Cruise broods with the intensity of a man legally prohibited from blinking. Is it the best entry in the franchise? No. Is it a fascinating artifact from a time when action movies were legally required to be sweaty and loud? Absolutely. Join us as we unpack the most stylish, most confused, and most aggressively slow motion chapter in the Mission Impossible saga.

Tom Cruise runs.

This week we accept our mission and immediately compromise it by talking too much. Let’s take a fresh look at Brian De Palma’s aggressively stylized spy reboot - Mission Impossible, a movie that invents modern blockbuster espionage while also insisting that every elevator in Eastern Europe is one bad day away from becoming a murder device. Anthony zeroes in on the franchise DNA, questioning whether Ethan Hunt has ever actually fired a gun, or if this is just Fast & Furious for people who can breathe through their noses. Elise remains deeply unconvinced by nearly everything on screen, especially the soft-focus glow applied exclusively to women, the sheer confidence of the plot, and the continued, unforgivable lack of Kurt Russell. And in case you had ANY doubts about what anyone means by 0400, Dan is back and has the answer.

From the cursed NOC list to face-rip-ception and a theme song in 5/4 because aliens apparently deserve something to dance to, this is a movie that commits hard. Don’t get any on you, trust no elevator, and remember: if someone says “abort,” they absolutely do not mean it.

https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0117060/

It's the Christmas Episode!  

(To the tune of The Christmas Song)

Penguins roasting in the sewer pipes,

Everybody knows

He knows that Batman’s on his way,

And so we’re offering this simple phrase

Clint Eastwood shows up, directs himself, scores his own movie, and lands every emotional punch.  Million Dollar Baby steps into the ring with gloves off, and we regret to inform you that this week we actually take a movie seriously.

There’s a surprising amount of calm confidence in how this movie moves.  Catholic guilt doing laps around a boxing gym, Hilary Swank quietly turning in an undeniable all-timer, and all signs pointing to a conclusion that Clint Eastwood may have never been wrong about anything in his life except maybe not having Ring Dudes between rounds.

So we joke, we curse, we opine about how great it must be to sound like Morgan Freeman.  They’re just fighting uphill against a story that insists on being sad in a way that’s earned, not manipulative.  What starts as a boxing drama slowly reveals itself as an existential gut punch that refuses to let us laugh our way out of it. Get your guard up and mouthpiece in, Eastwood's gonna wreck you.

https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0405159/

We’re FINALY back to the queue.  

Are you angry, punching someone, or in a mob negotiation?  Then Millers Crossing may be right for you.  It's a beautiful, chaotic, slang-riddled escape where everyone looks great in a hat and absolutely no one uses language the way the rest of the planet agreed English should work.  The politics are murky, the violence is constant, and half the characters sound like they were raised by bootleggers and crossword puzzles.

Anthony discovers Steve Buscemi was once young enough to pass for a regular human.  Elise wonders if this is a good fit for her headspace.  Nick considers pooping someone.  Together we attempt to solve the film’s greatest mystery: how many coats, hats, and suspenders can one man wear while still being considered sexually available?

So grab your hat, your emotional support bottle of whiskey, and your questionable life choices, because Miller’s Crossing has been sitting in the queue long enough and Fair Weather Geoff deserves closure.

https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0100150/

Ok, it's FINALLY time to talk Miller's Crossing.  Talking about a real film.  A masterpiece.  A thing that involves acting and cameras that were pointed at things on purpose.  Or so we thought.  For one shining moment.  

But no.  People keep dying and so instead we are here to honor the late, great Ace Frehley by wrestling with the low budget, low quality, made for TV hype-fest known as Kiss Meets the Phantom of the Park.

Nick, Anthony, and Elise recount ninety six minutes of commercial breaks disguised as a movie.  Fair Weather Manny takes another hall pass and risks getting relegated to Geoff.  We get villains in underground lairs, a gorilla chained up for reasons no human can explain, Gene Simmons sounding like he swallowed a box fan, and a performance from KISS that looks exactly as good as KISS actually looks.  There are fights, mummies, kabuki dancers, malfunctioning rides, and the CONSTANT reminder: KISS is performing tonight!  This production had more ADR than plot and more confusion than continuity.  Join Abner's clones in wondering why are we here.

Still, there is joy in the pain.  There are puns.  There are jokes about platform boots and worrying about hypnotized fans.  There is the proud moment when we all realize we are watching this so you can listen Frehley.  This is not a journey to take alone.  Grab a drink, grab a friend, and let's power through to a brighter tomorrow.  

Strap into your tighty-whiteys folks, because this week we take on Something’s Gotta Give, a movie that opens with Crazy Town’s “Butterfly” and only gets more bewildering from there. Nick, Elise, and Anthony wade through a Hamptons fantasy land where everyone is wealthy beyond reason, morals take the day off, and Jack Nicholson wanders around in tighty-whiteys giving new meaning to his SAG card. We did not plan to hit this one, but Diane Keaton’s passing continues our accidental tradition of rearranging the watchlist every time Hollywood breaks our hearts.

Once the shock wears off, the real questions start piling up. Why is half the cast named “Beauty,” and why does the movie treat CPR like a party trick? How is Keanu Reeves the only person behaving like he belongs in a functioning society? And at what point did Nancy Myers decide that age gaps large enough to trigger a carbon dating session should be adorable? Step aside Geoff and make room for Fair Weather Manny who decided that this is a world so disconnected from reality that he tapped out of this episode.  

By the time we wrap, we are staring down the film’s unbelievable box office numbers, the critic scores that feel like clerical errors, and the troubling fact that Nicholson’s undercarriage has more screen presence than some billed actors. Pull up a chair and pour one out for Diane Keaton. You deserved better, we all did.

https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0337741/