January Expiration Watch: D�j� Vu All Over Again (2014)

Another month's end, another round of expiring titles, some leaving for the first time, others zipping past on a lazy Susan of cinematic temptation. Here comes Coppola...there goes Coppola...no, wait, he's back, and... Darn, gone again. Is that Buckaroo Banzai appearing on the horizon? By gum, I think it is. Oh, never mind�there he goes, zooming off in that crazy jet car, tossing fellow '80s stalwart Flesh + Blood into the back seat then extending one arm to snag Last Tango in Paris before crashing through a wall into the 8th dimension of streaming limbo. Rutger and Marlon, we hardly knew ye! But you'll be back, right? Pretty please?

Along with Coppola and Last Tango's Bertolucci, the seemingly obligatory monthly loss of movies by big-name directors continues, with a few titles more well-known than others. The most significant would be Robert Zemeckis' equally praised and reviled Forrest Gump (1994), Robert Redford's Ordinary People (1980)�which I'll never forgive for stealing the Best Picture Oscar from Raging Bull�Mira Nair's Monsoon Wedding (2001), and Fred Zinnemann's classic, High Noon (1952), starring Gary Cooper and Grace Kelly. None of these needs me to sell its virtues (or faults) before it's gone on February 1�unlike Robert Altman's Cookie's Fortune (1999), a pleasant, small-town crime comedy that was one of the director's better films during a lull in creative highs between Short Cuts (1993) and Gosford Park (2001). Four generations of actresses�Patricia Neal, Glenn Close, Julianne Moore, and Liv Tyler�are up to shady doings as a family of eccentrics with their reputations at stake when one of them takes her own life.
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More November Expirations (2013)

It doesn't look like I'll have a chance to write a proper post extolling the virtues of the titles expiring before month's end, but be sure to take a look at the list at the top of the page to see what's on the cutting block. Most notable is The Dick Van Dyke Show, which, despite being over 50 years old and in black-and-white, achieved a humor and freshness that keep it virtually ageless. Creator Carl Reiner made a point of not referencing the era's events or pop culture, and that�along with believable, archetypal characters, solid writing, and funny, grounded performances�make this series as entertaining today as it was in the early 1960s. All five seasons of the show expire at 12:01am on 11/29 [Update: since renewed]. If you're one of the few who have never seen it, and you enjoy traditional sitcoms, you should definitely check out a few episodes before they're gone.

Also of note: two '70s classics�Carrie and Saturday Night Fever�both of which have been mentioned here before and both featuring John Travolta�along with the tense, borderline exploitative Larry Clark thriller, Bully, which is based on a true story and, despite its tossed-off, documentary feel and casual, underage violence and sexuality, sneaks up on you by building some genuine, nail-biting tension by the time it's over.

That's all for now. Other titles worth a look can be found on the Expiring Soon list. Here's wishing you a happy, movie-filled Thanksgiving!

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Flashback: SATURDAY NIGHT FEVER

With the arrival of Saturday Night Fever (1977) to Netflix Instant, I thought I'd reach back to an article I wrote a few years ago for Popshifter.com's 1970's-themed issue, "Dancing Ourselves Into the Tomb." It's more of a personal take on the film's soundtrack than an outright movie review, but my thoughts on the film do come across, so consider this a slight change of pace.

Can't Fight the Fever

(Published December 5, 2011, in slightly different form)

When the movie Saturday Night Fever was released in December of 1977, it became a smash critical and popular success that delivered disco to the masses, John Travolta to movie theaters, and a record that became the biggest-selling soundtrack of all time.

But in my household, the film�s influence was exactly...nil. Considering my family�s strict rock & roll diet and my impressionable age, I didn�t have to be told that a movie about disco was cinema non grata. (Say it with me now: �Disco sucks!") But beyond hewing to the party line, as a family we agreed those high-pitched, nasal Bee Gee voices had become annoyingly ubiquitous in the months following the film's release.

The Bee Gees and their chests

And those voices�along with the other Fever songs cramming the airwaves�were everywhere. I don't remember how many times that thumping bass and Gibb-brother whine would suddenly infect the car radio, causing one or the other Woodstock-era parent to reach violently for the tuner with a stream of R-rated invective. I knew the rules: if it had a dance beat, it was shunned�as clear as the laws of physics.

For the next half decade, my views on disco�and by extension, Saturday Night Fever�remained unchanged, even after the country's disco rage had subsided. When the movie showed up on cable in both PG and R-rated versions, I peeked in at a few key scenes to compare the levels of nudity and swearing (the '80s equivalent of watching deleted scenes), but even the charms of Donna Pescow and Karen Lynn Gorney couldn't overcome my lingering aversion to the film as a whole.

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