MEDIA COOL

MEDIA COOL

This month’s Media Cools were written by Steve Appleford, Holly Gleason and Bill Holdship.

THE PRINCIPAL

(Tri-Star Pictures)

Sure, it’s incredibly contrived—but I mean that as a compliment in the best possible sense. It’s contrived in the same way that, oh, say, And Justice For All or The Karate Kid were contrived, and there’s a very good chance that those two left you feeling great. The good guys are real good, the bad guys are real bad—and, after some suspense, the good guys triumph. Jim Belushi (who with this and the great Salvador under his belt is becoming a fine actor) plays a high school teacher who screws up royally and suddenly finds himself the administrator of the worst, most crime-ridden school in the middle of the city’s worst, most crime-ridden ghetto. “No more!” proclaims Principal Belushi—but first he must defeat the leader of the school’s worst, most crimeridden pack. It’s violent—but this seemed to be the summer of celluloid violence, and it doesn’t seem nearly as graphic as Best Seller or even Stakeout If you’re willing to suspend a little disbelief for two hours, this could leave you feeling great. B.H.

BORDER RADIO

(Coyote Productions)

Serious films with rock musicians in lead roles are always suspicious projects, too often made merely to satisfy a bloated rock star’s ego, or by directors grasping for a sliver of hipness. Border Radio (its title comes from a Dave Alvin song) is neither of these. Although the filmmakers opted to feature some of the most prominent members of Hollywood’s underground music scene, musicians like X’s John Doe and former Flesheater Chris D. prove that some rock performers can indeed act convincingly. And the performances of Luanna Anders (as temporarily abandoned wife in search of a disappeared bandleader), and, particularly Chris Shearer tie all the scattered elements from Mexico to L.A.’s Antelope Valley together. Fittingly, the heart and soul of this film is rooted in the L.A. underground rock scene, but its brain is certainly with writer-directors Allison Anders, Dean Lent and Kurt Voss. These young filmmakers have captured the feel of the local L.A. scene without turning Border Radio into some kind of stale “docu-drama.” Combined with a sometimes subtle, other times dynamic score by Alvin, Divine Horsemen and others, it is the sort of small film one longs to see more often. S.A.

ELVIS WORLD

by Jane & Michael Stern

(Alfred A. Knopf)

Even this fan—who’s been obsessed with the man for going on 27 years now— has to admit that he’s pretty much Elvis’d right out following this year’s 10th anniversary death “festivities” (and weren’t there some moronic things written during that period?). Anyway, this Presley overload actually (finally?) made Elvis seem less like a (once) human being—and more like a thing. Which is interesting, as this book examines Elvis the thing, that is (love him or hate him), the greatest and most pro-, found pop cultural icon of all time. By the end, one should be able to deduce what real Elvis fans have known all along: “Elvis World” is America, encompassing both the beauty and the hideousness, the greatness and the waste. The tone here is generally humorous, but it’s the same type of humor the King himself often displayed. There’s a rehashing of information here, but the pictures are GREAT! This is one of those coffee table books, so to speak— but it’s a dandy one. If you have to own just one more Presley book—Elvis’d out or not—this could be the one. B.H.

HEART WORM

MEMORIES

by Susie Nelson

(Eakin Press)

If kids of famous parents aren’t trying to weasel their way into movies, they’re making records. And, of course, there’s that other familiar twist—riding the coattails into a publishing deal. Granted, Susie Nelson, Willie’s daughter, had a unique view of her father’s ascendency into the stratosphere of country music. Unfortunately, she never fully takes advantage of her vantage point, and that’s where the trouble begins. There’s no real insight here, just a string of events loosely bound by Willie’s presence (or lack of it). What we find is a young woman trying to get a somewhat abnormal father/daughter relationship (how many kids have joined thfeir parents in a psychedelic closet for a joint and some talk?) into perspective. Perhaps the most heartening thing is that neither seems any worse for the wear. Willie is still on the road. Susie has survived two bad marriages, and has now decided to become a singer. Hmmm, it seems the vicious cycle lives, as Nelson eyes a recording studio that probably wouldn’t be open to her any other way. H.G.

ORPHANS

(Lorimar Pictures)

The more I think about this one, the more i like it—though I didn’t feel that way while watching it. Orphans plays very much like a theater piece turned into a movie—which is what it is. The plot: two orphan brothers (in their late teens or very early 20s) are more or less “adopted” by a colorful gangster from Chicago after they’ve attempted to kidnap the gangster and hold him for ransom. The message is simple and obvious: everyone needs love and support—though it’s also obviously open to deeper interpretations if you’re so inclined. Most of all, Orphans is an actors’ tour-de-force, although Matthew Modine overdoes it a bit in a very unlikable role as the older brother who mugs people in New York for income. Albert Finney is wonderful, though, and should earn yet another Oscar nomination for his portrayal of the gangster. But the film is probably stolen by newcomer Kevin Anderson as the seemingly dimwitted brother who blossoms with a little love and encouragement. These latter two performances make Orphans worth seeing at least once. B.H.