BWD - Paul Verhoeven

A look at the Best, the Worst, and the most Different (for better or worse) of the delirious and deviant Dutch director’s dossier.

Best

Total Recall (1990)

Teaming a man who was steadily carving out a niche as a purveyor of violent mayhem with the actor responsible for the largest body count in Hollywood was a truly inspired move.  Verhoeven gleefully lingers on bullet-ridden corpses, accentuates each *crack* as Arnie’s Douglas Quaid/Hauser breaks necks and spines, and turns the legend that is Michael Ironside into a double amputee; meanwhile, he satisfies his lust for random flesh with a three-breasted Martian prostitute.  There’s not really much one can add to that (except to say that the Colin Farrell remake has some living up to do).

Robocop (1987)

 

Atheist Verhoeven delivers a Christ analogy that’s every bit as brutal as Mel Gibson’s 2004 literal re-telling.  The broad comedy of the mock TV ads sits alongside digs at '80s yuppie excesses and is fused to some of the nastiest onscreen villainy in mainstream cinema:  witness the cruel delight sleazoid crime lord Clarence Boddicker (Kurtwood Smith) and his gang take in torturing rookie cop Alex Murphy (a solid Peter Weller), who is then resurrected to generate positive PR for the heartless corporate that owns near-future ‘New’ Detroit’s privitised police force.  All the staples from Verhoeven’s Dutch movies are on show in his US debut:  satire of authority; ultra-violence; religious and fascist symbolism; nudity.

 Starship Troopers (1997)

   

No other popcorn movie is as simultaneously gung-ho and cunningly subversive as this gloriously violent interstellar caper.  Edward Neumeier takes Robert A. Heinlein’s straight-laced source novel and cranks up the military satire to eleven, portraying a future society that uses xenophobic propaganda to recruit young square-jawed Aryan warriors to fight unprovoked against a dehumanised foe (they’re only insects – let’s squish ‘em!), whilst Verhoeven – who grew up in occupied Holland during World War II – delights in bombarding the viewer with not-so-subtle Nazi imagery like grey Gestapo-style uniforms with long leather jackets and Eagle motifs.  And how can you argue with lines like “Shoot a nuke down a bug hole, you got a lot of dead bugs”?

Basic Instinct (1992)

Pauly V really hit his stride with this extremely trashy and enjoyable guilty pleasure that didn’t do the careers of him, screenwriter Joe Eszerthas or star Sharon Stone much harm at all.  It’s taken its fair share of flack over the years and has dated poorly (few flicks scream the '90s quite as loudly), but the fact is it’s a thriller that can legitimately be dubbed ‘Hitchcockian’:  icy blonde, morally conflicted protagonist, simmering tension, San Francisco setting, Jerry Goldsmith’s Bernard Herrmann-esque score – and it contains a level of explicit sleaze that the pervy old master would have loved to have gotten away with in his time.

Worst

Showgirls (1995)

After the phenomenal success of Basic Instinct, Verhoeven could do pretty much what he wanted.  He chose to re-team with Eszerthas for this utterly awful tale of a small town girl trying to make it as a Las Vegas stripper.  Kind of like All about Eve with nipple tassels, Showgirls manages to have some of the worst acting (Elizabeth Berkley), dialogue (“You have great tits.” “Thank you.” “I like nice tits, how about you?” “I like having nice tits.”), sex (the swimming pool scene, where Berkley flaps about like a salmon whilst straddling an embarrassed-looking Kyle MacLachlan), and haircuts (MacLachlan again) ever commited to screen.  It has a cult status for being so-bad-it’s-good, but that doesn’t mean it wasn't bad in the first place.

Different

Hollow Man (2000)

 

A bland flick that could have been directed by anyone, our man downplays his usual bombastic style and produces a feature that is sorely lacking in Verhoeven trademarks:  no excessive nudity, no corporate satire, only moderate violence.  Kevin Bacon enjoys himself in the obnoxious lead role and those invisibility special effects are pretty impressive, but the overall feeling is of a hired hand directing with one eye on the mortgage repayments.  Hollow indeed.

The Fly (1986)

Starring:  Jeff Goldblum, Geena Davis, John Getz

Directed by: David Cronenberg

Written by: David Cronenberg, Charles Edward Pouge

Duration: 1hr 36mins

Rating: 5 out of 5

BEAR WITH ME, I AM GOING SOMEWHERE WITH THIS 

Ronseal’s ‘It does exactly what it says on the tin’ was recently voted amongst the best ever advertising slogans on British TV.  This starkly frank and hyperbole-free statement gets right to the root of what we human beings are drawn to – the truth.  If it says it will protect your garden fence from the elements for up to five years, then you want that fence to be protected for the stated period.

Is this the same for cinema?  Do we want our expectations to be totally fulfilled – is that what makes a movie ‘good’?  If the answer was as simple as that, then romantic comedies would be the pinnacle of filmmaking.  But on the other hand, if every film was like Eraserhead, defying all convention and explanation, then we’d soon all be as barking as a David Lynch creation.

AN UNDERRATED MASTERPIECE?

DO YOU WANT THIS TO BE YOU?

No, for a film to be truly successful, it must skilfully walk a tightrope between giving you what you want and surprising you with something unexpected.  I’m usually reluctant to use the ‘p’ word, but I consider The Fly to be a perfect movie.  It both does exactly what it says on the tin and gives us so much more; it’s a superb man-accidently-turns-into-a-fly gory horror flick, but is also intelligent, emotional, tense, dramatic, romantic, funny and unforgettable.  


The Fly is ostensibly a monster movie, a modern-day retelling of Frankenstein mixed with Kafka's Metamorphosis, one where the doctor and the monster are one and the same.

DRY ICE AIDS THE TELEPORTATION PROCESS, YOU SEE... 

But Cronenberg's movie is elevated onto a higher platform by one part of the anatomy that these earlier tales are not known for: the heart – or ‘the flesh’, as the movie puts it.  Cronenberg is known as a cold, intellectual, somewhat intimidating surgeon of a director (his serial-killing psychiatrist acting turn in Cliver Barker's Nightbreed did little to negate this), and yet the romance he chronicals here gives the film a real emotional core that makes its story genuinely heart-breaking.  The Canadian presents a relationship that is intense, erotic and, ultimately, adult – which, for my money, makes it far more effective than the diluted and chaste portrayals from more lauded ‘people’ directors such as Steven Spielberg. 

BEING 'BUG-EYED' WAS AN ADVANTAGE AT AUDITION

It effectiveness is in no small part down to the chemistry of real-life couple Goldblum and Davis (as Veronica, the journalist whose interest Brundle's work on teleportation piques).  Goldblum should have won an Academy Award for Best Actor for his stunning performance.  He embodies a jittery, bashful intellect; charmingly naïve, endearingly eccentric.  With his bulging eyes and long limbs, the actor is somewhat insect-like to begin with, and as the layers of make-up are piled on and the tics increase his humanity remains and he manages to cut a compelling, sympathetic figure from start to end.

The Fly’s script is tighter than a kettle drum, with a typically Cronenbergian brief running time and a mere three main characters, Veronica’s boss and jealous ex Stathis Borans completing the triangle.  It’s contains more humour than the director has delivered before or since, with ironic observations (Brundle complains of motion sickness in a car), wit (“What are you, a bodybuilder?” gasps a floozy Brundle picks up in a bar.  “Sure I build bodies,” he replies. “I take them apart then I put them back together again”) and one exchange that always makes me laugh out loud: “I’m onto something big, huge!” Veronia gushes to Stathis after seeing Brundle’s work. “What, his COCK?!” her former lover spits.

IN OTHER WORDS ...

... 'YOU'RE FUCKED'

Much has been said about the parallels between Brundle’s deteriorating condition and ‘80s zeitgeist pandemic Aids.  Certainly you could latch onto this theory, but Cronenberg has always insisted that the movie is about the ultimate disease:  ageing.  “What’s happening?” laments Brundle as his transformation takes hold.  “Am I dying – is this how it starts?”  The movie appears to be a Michael Crichton-esque cautionary tale of man meddling with nature, which of course it is, but it’s really about our helplessness against the finiteness of life; we are all born with a body that will both grow and work towards its ultimate destiny:  to decay and die.

So, not pretty (make up wiz Chris Walas did get the Oscar he deserved, and went on to helm the silly but fun The Fly II) and not optimistic (though life does go on, in the shape of Veronica’s pregnancy) but hey – most great truths aren’t pleasant.  But, just like The Fly, they are essential.  *****

7 Rounds of Jerry Bruckheimer vs Joel Silver

THE SILVER SURFER

Producers don’t often become a brand in the same way actors and directors do – the former is on display for all to admire, the latter behind the scenes pulling the creative strings.  Both are ‘artists’; both are considered to leave a personal mark on the material.  


The producer, on the other hand, is a money-man, a ball-breaker, a ruthless corporate shark; parodied mercilessly by the likes of the Coens in Barton Fink and Tarantino in True Romance.  Not exactly in keeping with the romanticised dream factory image of Hollywood.

JERRY!  JERRY!  JERRY!

Many are consistently successful:  Brian Grazer, Scot Rudin, Kathleen Kennedy;  back in the day you had Cecil B. de Milde and occasional director Howard Hughes .  But only two in the modern age have been so strongly associated with their body of work and have left such an indelible mark on the public consciousness:  Joel Silver and Jerry Bruckheimer (alongside Don Simpson until his death in 1996).  These two are brands, often more well-known than the directors of their flicks.  Both started out in the early ‘80s, both gave star-making roles to raw talent (Richard Gere, Eddie Murphy, Tom Cruise...), both have veered towards the lowbrow and big budget.

So here I pit the two box office battlers head-to-head, splitting their careers thus far into eras – with the goal, of course, of  establishing who is truly the cigar-chomping, deal-making, beard-growing best.

1. Early ‘80s

Joel Silver:

48 Hrs. (1982), Streets of Fire (1984), Brewster's Millions (1985), Weird Science (1985), Commando (1985)

Jerry Bruckheimer/Don Simpson:

Defiance (1980), American Gigolo (1980), Violent Streets (1981), Young Doctors in Love (1982), Flashdance (1983), Thief of Hearts (1984), Beverly Hills Cop (1984) 

48 HRS.

AMERICAN GIGOLO

Many parallels to be found in the early careers of both our contenders.  Two iconic Eddie Murphy roles, a taste of ‘80s cheese, turns that cemeneted the star power of both Richard Gere and Arnold Schwarzenegger.  It’s extremely close, but under closer examination a clear winner emerges:  Beverly Hills Cop may beat 48 Hrs., but American Gigolo is a pretty poor movie, Flashdance has not dated well at all and the rest of Bruckheimer’s output is forgettable.  By contrast, Silver’s titles are all solid fun – and include the legendary Commando.

Result:  Silver wins 

2. Late ‘80s

Joel Silver:

Jumpin' Jack Flash (1986), Lethal Weapon (1987), Predator (1987), Action Jackson (1988), Die Hard, (1988), Road House (1989), Lethal Weapon 2 (1989)  

Jerry Bruckheimer/Don Simpson:

Top Gun (1986), Beverly Hills Cop II  (1987)

LETHAL WEAPON

TOP GUN

Not hard to see the winner here.  The masterpiece that is Top Gun gives JB & DS a lot of credit, but with only a lacklustre franchise sequel to complement it, there’s no way the duo can compete with a rosta that reads like a who’s who of ‘80s action classics, with never better iconic turns from Willis, Swayze, Gibson, Arnie and – yes! – two from Apollo Creed himself, Carl Weathers. 

Result:  Silver wins

3. Early ‘90s

Joel Silver:

The Adventures of Ford Fairlane (1990), Predator 2 (1990), Hudson Hawk (1991), Ricochet (1991), The Last Boy Scout (1991), Lethal Weapon 3 (1992), Demolition Man (1993), Richie Rich (1994), Fair Game (1995), Assassins (1995)   

Jerry Bruckheimer/Don Simpson:

Days of Thunder (1990), Dangerous Minds (1995), Crimson Tide (1995), Bad Boys (1995)

THE LAST BOY SCOUT

BAD BOYS

A truly mixed offering from Mr Silver.  Predator 2, The Last Boy Scout and Demolition Man are beloved by any right-minded film fan, and Assassins has its fans; but risible star vehicles for Bruce Willis, Denzil Washington and William ‘Billy’ Baldwin, not to mention non-actors – and didn’t they just show it – Andrew ‘Dice’ Clay and Cindy Crawford are not easily forgiven.  And the second Lethal Weapon sequel and Richie Rich are both, for different reasons, totally cynical exercises.  Bruckheimer and Simpson have a similar quality split (their first two offerings are poor, the latter two are ace), but through the virtue of having less output they commit less crimes against cinema. 

Result:  Bruckheimer wins

4. Late ‘90s

Joel Silver:

Executive Decision (1996), Fathers' Day (1997), Conspiracy Theory (1997), Double Tap (1997), Lethal Weapon 4 (1998), Made Men (1999), The Matrix (1999), House on Haunted Hill (1999)          

Jerry Bruckheimer:

The Rock (1996), Con Air (1997), Armageddon (1998), Enemy of the State (1998)  

THE MATRIX

CON AIR

Going alone after the demise of his producing pal, Jerry Bruckheimer has his strongest half-decade so far.  In just three years, he overseas four hugely enjoyable examples of kinetic ‘90s cinema:  two gloriously brainless actioners, an overblown disaster epic and, in Enemy of the State, the unlikely combination of spiritual successor to Francis Ford Coppola’s The Conversation (paranoid Gene Hackman and all), Generation X casting call and the most Tony Scott film imaginable.  Our boy Joel, on the other hand, keeps churning them out like a trooper, but yields very little of genuine quality from his crop, with only late entry The Matrix preventing his century from ending in total ignominy.

Result:  Bruckheimer wins

   

5. Early ‘00s

Joel Silver:

Exit Wounds (2001), Swordfish (2001), Thir13en Ghosts (2001), Ghost Ship (2002), Cradle 2 the Grave (2003), The Matrix Reloaded (2003), The Matrix Revolutions (2003), Gothika (2003)

Jerry Bruckheimer:

Gone in Sixty Seconds (2000), Coyote Ugly (2000), Remember the Titans (2000), Pearl Harbor (2001), Black Hawk Down (2001), Bad Company (2002), Kangaroo Jack (2003), Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl (2003), Veronica Guerin (2003), Bad Boys II (2003), King Arthur (2004), National Treasure (2004)

SWORDFISH

BLACK HAWK DOWN

By now, Jerry is banging them out at a similar rate to Joel, and has become the much more well-known of the two.  Deservedly? On this new-millennial evidence, you’d have to say so.  Whilst I defy you to find a single half-decent movie in all of Silver’s output (Swordfish is alright, but really only has two things to recommend about it; I'm referring the opening flo-mo explosion and the presence of Don Cheadle, in case you thought I was making a reference to Halle Berry’s tits), Bruckheimer manages to deliver a Black Hawk Down, Pirates of the Caribbean or Bad Boys II for every Coyote Ugly, Pearl Harbor or Kangaroo Jack.

Result:  Bruckheimer wins

6. Late ‘00s

Joel Silver:

Kiss Kiss Bang Bang (2005), V for Vendetta (2006), The Reaping (2007), The Invasion (2007), The Brave One (2007), Fred Claus (2007), Speed Racer (2008), RocknRolla (2008), Orphan (2009), Whiteout (2009), Ninja Assassin (2009), Sherlock Holmes (2009) 

Jerry Bruckheimer:

Déjà vu (2006), Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man's Chest (2006), Pirates of the Caribbean: At World's End (2007), National Treasure: Book of Secrets (2007), Confessions of a Shopaholic (2009)

KISS KISS BANG BANG 

DEJA VU

   

On first sight, Silver’s credits for this period are a pretty ropey bunch, but are, in fact, neatly bookended by two fun Robert Downey Jr. romps and Guy Richie’s return to form RocknRolla nestles neatly in the middle.  Over in camp Bruckheimer, Pirates parts two and three offer up stiff competition to Silver’s own Matrix sequels’ bid to be the worst continuation of a trilogy in cinematic history, National Treasure was a movie that left no one screaming out for more, Déjà vu writes its own seen-it-all-before quip and, I ask you, Confessions of a freakin’ Shopaholic?!  For shame.            

7. Result:  Silver wins

Early ‘10s

Joel Silver:

The Book of Eli (2010), The Losers (2010), Unknown (2011), Sherlock Holmes: A Game of Shadows (2011), The Factory (2011)  

Jerry Bruckheimer:

G-Force (2009), Prince of Persia: The Sands of Time (2010), The Sorcerer’s Apprentice (2010), Pirates of the Caribbean: On Stranger Tides (2011)

THE LOSERS

PRINCE OF PERSIA

Woah momma.  Ol’ Jerry is really losing the plot now.  The fourth entry to the Pirates saga was greeted by a tidal wave of apathy, and it’s a sad day when the man once responsible for greenlighting The Rock and Con Air is presiding over kiddie movies and another entry into the canon of disappointing video game adaptations.  Joel, meanwhile, produces a mixed bunch, but it’s a hard heart that that doesn’t warm to his incarnation of literature’s greatest detective, and both The Book of Eli and The Losers provide the viewer with a good time.

Result:  Silver wins

Final score:   Silver 4 – 3 Bruckheimer

So there you have it!  Joel Silver has overseen a better body of work over his 30-odd years in the business than Jerry Bruckheimer.  And since his producer peer seems to be retreating more and more into the realm of TV, he could very well hold the advantage for years to come.  Only time will tell…