Hidden Treasure: Indian Summer (1993)

“Respect for the land teaches respect for your fellow man, a sense of belonging, and more importantly, respect for oneself.” – adage from Camp Tamakwa

—

I was blessed to have a childhood that allowed me to immerse myself in the beauty of Mother Nature. In addition to a few stints of sleepaway camp, I spent every summer of my childhood at the family lake house in the Adirondacks in upstate New York. I had some of the best times of my life on Paradox Lake. You can definitely say I felt a certain sense of belonging.

Mother Nature is a constant in everybody’s rapidly changing lives. You grow older, but everything else stays the same. I’ve been going back to Paradox Lake every year for 30+ years now and very little has changed. The lake is as beautiful as it ever was. The trees remain tall and proud. The stars haven’t changed position. The neighboring cabins hold steady.

In Indian Summer, a modestly budgeted comedy-drama written and directed by Mike Binder, a group of thirtysomethings return to their childhood camp for the first time since they were kids. When Brad Berman (played by the great Kevin Pollak) steps foot onto the grounds of Camp Tamakwa again, everything seems so small to him. “It’s tiny! I can’t believe how tiny this place is!” Of course, nothing has changed. The camp stayed the exactly the same. Brad Berman had grown up.

It’s amazing how perspectives change, isn’t it?

First, can I just say how much I adore this film? Budgeted at $9 million and grossing only $15 million, it’s not exactly a hit. It has a measly 6.2 rating on IMDb and a borderline rotten score of 65%. And yet… and yet when I speak to people who have seen the film, they embrace it as warmly as I do. Does it speak to people in ways only few would understand? Does it speak a private language? Perhaps if you’ve never been to camp as a child, you wouldn’t “get it?” Nah, I highly doubt all of that. Indian Summer is about, among other things, rekindling fires from your past. Everyone has a past. Everyone had relationships and dilemmas and memorable incidents from when they were growing up. Now, after a long absence, imagine being implanted back to the place where all of that happened, alongside the same folks you grew up with. Imagine feeling these fires light up again inside you.

“But I’ll tell ya one thing: if you hit it right, it’s one hell of a life.” – Unca Lou

Think of Indian Summer as a lighter, less angsty version of The Big Chill. It’s a warm, gentle film that features 7 adults who are invited back to Camp Tamakwa for a week-long reunion. Their former camp director, Unca Lou (Alan Arkin, wise and brilliant as ever), wants to see the old gang together before he closes the camp for good. Those kids represented the golden age of the campground; it was a time when everything made sense. Beth Warden (Diane Lane) is a recent widow. Her late husband used to be best friends with Jack Belston (Bill Paxton), a hippie musician who was once kicked out of camp. Jamie Ross (Matt Craven) is a millionaire who brought along his 21-year-old fiancé (Kimberly Williams). Matthew and Kelly Berman (Vincent Spano and Julie Warner) are married with kids and are going through a rough patch. Matt’s former camp flame (and Kelly’s old friend) Jennifer Morton (Elizabeth Perkins) is a bit of a self-obsessed wanderer. And Matt’s brother Brad (Pollak) runs their successful business. Unca Lou’s right hand man, Stick Coder (a delightfully kooky Sam Raimi), helps keep the camp up and running.

During this reunion, there are laughs, fights, sex (“Just try not to kill any wild animals in process”), races, boxing matches (“The kids are fine. I told them that mommy beat the shit out me today”), midnight kitchen raids (“No shit, the munchies! I forgot all about the munchies!”), practical jokes (“Reverse shreck!”) and good old-fashioned moose watching (“There’s nothing like a good moose”).

The cast is aces all around. This ensemble bounces off one another just beautifully. Alan Arkin is perfect as the patriarch of the campground. We already know Arkin can deftly handle comedy and drama in a single scene, and there are several moments in Indian Summer where he gets the balancing act just right. Diane Lane, an actress of the 80’s, is resplendant here as Beth. You can tell she has grown considerably as an actress throughout the 90’s and the ‘aughts. Kevin Pollak and Bill Paxton are two remarkable character actors today, steadily working in television and film. You can never go wrong with these guys. Matt Craven and Elizabeth Perkins have kept a lower profile in recent years, but still pop up in bit parts on the tube and big screen. The adorable Kimberly Williams (now Williams-Paisley) also kept busy on television (does anyone else melt a little when Father of the Bride comes on TV?). The two stars we barely see these days are Julie Warner and Vincent Spano. It’s a shame; they appeared in so many strong films of the 80’s and 90’s, and are very appealing performers. And Sam Raimi! Whatever happened to that dude? 🙂

Indian Summer is filmed on location at the actual Camp Tamakwa campground, based in Ontario’s Algonquin Provincial Park. The sights are breathtaking. As lensed by veteran cinematographer, Newton Thomas Sigel (who later went on to shoot all of Bryan Singer’s films), the colors are bathed in warm sunlight and vivid greens. You can practically feel the nighttime chills and the warm lakeside breeze. Binder attended Tamakwa back in the late 60’s-early 70’s, and this film is a tribute to a place where he proudly came of age. Incidentally, Sam Raimi also attended the camp, as well as famous comedians Gilda Radnor and Chevy Chase. The film may be fictional, but there’s a lot of facts and nods sprinkled throughout. “Unca” Lou Handler is actually one of the founding directors of Camp Tamakwa, and when he passed on, some of the former students carried on the responsibility of taking over the camp. That’s only one of several true-life tales that Binder has incorporated in the film.

Indian Summer is clearly Mike Binder’s love letter to his childhood. It’s mighty generous of him to allow us to go along for the ride down memory lane.

Hidden Treasure: Leap of Faith

From the mid 80s through the most of the 90s, Steve Martin had an impressive range of career choices. Some were well-crafted crowd-pleasers (Parenthood, Father of the Bride), some critically acclaimed (LA Story, Roxanne), and some heavily dramatic fare (The Spanish Prisoner, Grand Canyon). There was one movie during that time period that doesn’t fit in either of these categories and yet I think it features one of Martin’s most interesting and underrated performances. In 1992’s Leap of Faith, Martin plays a traveling evangelist named Jonas Nightengale who, by a twist of fate (or was it?), lands in small-town Kansas where every resident is in need of a miracle. Yes, Lord, they need a miracle!

This is not a great film. It’s uneven, has a weak third act, and undercooked storylines. But I cannot deny that Leap of Faith is survived – almost solely – by a dark, rousing performance by one of the funniest men alive. Martin has done plenty of drama before – most notably in 1991’s superb Grand Canyon – but this one is different. Jonas Nightengale is at personal crossroads in life. He knows what he does for people. He puts on a good show, makes people laugh, maybe even makes them feel good about themselves. On the other hand, Nightengale is a fake, a fraud who capitalizes on the problems of everyday people and cashes in on them. But hey, he’s not hurting anybody. He’s just making a (dis)honest buck.

Martin is revelatory up on that stage. It’s a serious performance; he’s not playing it for laughs, though you can’t help but grin at Martin’s manic energy. These preachers are animated and passionate performers, and Martin nails it. Jonas Nightengale is a man on a mission. He is out to heal! He is out to put faith into these people’s lives, to make them believe it will all get better. The Lord is looking out for you, but you gotta believe! You gotta believe in the Lord almighty!

I wish this performance lived in a better film. Leap of Faith is not at all bad; in fact, the film deeply engaging as we follow Nightengale and his crew perform their magic tricks. We watch as the spotters discreetly gather pertinent, personal information from the audience so Nightengale can pump it back at them. Debra Winger plays Jane, Nightengale’s front woman, who sits behind computers and TV screens and orchestrates the great Jesus magic show. This is one well-oiled event; the townspeople walk away with hope in their hearts and Nightengale and his crew leave with cash in their pockets.

I liked the relationship between Winger and Martin. You sense they have a long history together and most likely a complex one. The rest of the supporting cast is one note, with half-baked subplots that go nowhere. Liam Neeson is the sheriff who is suspicious of the whole affair, but ends up falling for Jane. There is a huge chunk of story missing there; I have a sinking feeling many of their scenes were cut, most likely in favor of the story of Lolita Davidovich’s tough waitress Marva and her crippled young brother Boyd, played by Lukas Haas. Nightingale falls for her, but Marva resists. She doesn’t believe his phony act. This sets the wheels in motion for Nightengale’s unraveling.

In addition to those terrific actors, Leap of Faith also features too little of Philip Seymour Hoffman, M.C. Gainey and Meat Loaf as part of Nightengale’s crew. I would have enjoyed a heavier focus on them, Jane and Nightengale, traveling from town to town, struggling with the ethics of what they do yet still enjoy making these people feel good. Now that I think of it, this could have made an interesting TV show.

Despite the myriad of problems, though, Leap of Faith is an entertaining film filled with strong ideas, a simple message, fantastic gospel music and an unforgettable tour-de-force performance by an actor who’s hasn’t been known for his “acting” in quite some time. Steve Martin has made a lot of great films over the years, but Leap of Faith is one of the precious few where he’s not playing Steve Martin.

Hidden Treasure: Dolores Claiborne

Sometimes being a bitch is all a woman has to hang on to….

A few weeks ago, I saw a small Dustin Hoffman movie called Straight Time, which was released in 1978. In the film, there is an appearance by a young, slim Kathy Bates. She was the youngest I’d ever seen her, and though the role was brief, she had a very commanding presence. She had two pivotal scenes in the film, and she nailed the part. If I had seen Straight Time when it was released that year, I’d be proclaiming that this young up-and-comer named Kathy Bates was going to be a star.

And boy, what an incredible career this woman has had. She beautifully bared it all in About Schmidt. She got me all teary eyed in Fried Green Tomatoes (Go ahead. Laugh). She scared the cockadoodle bejesus out of me in Misery. She was robbed of an Oscar for Primary Colors. And the list goes on. But Kathy Bates has spent most of her career in supporting roles (she’s like a fresh breath of air when she waltzes onto a movie, however briefly). So when she’s front and center, we take notice.

One of her best roles – leading or otherwise – is that of Dolores Claiborne. The film of the same name flew under the radar when it was released in 1995. It was mildly praised by critics and barely made a dent in the box office. Backed by a remarkable cast, including Christopher Plummer, David Strathairn, Jennifer Jason Leigh, and a fresh-faced John C. Reilly, this Tony Gilroy-penned adaptation of Stephen King’s novel was deftly helmed by underrated director Taylor Hackford. Dolores Claiborne had a remarkable pedigree and it was a damned good movie. So where’s the love?

Now, you listen to me, Mr. Grand High Poobah of Upper Buttcrack. I’m just about half-past give a shit with your fun and games.

The script can be melodramatic (“Husbands die every day, Dolores”), but subtlety isn’t what they are striving for. This is a soap opera, plain and simple. An old, rich woman dies. Dolores is accused of murdering her. The cop (Plummer) is determined to put her in jail for good, something he should have done twenty years ago when Dolores’s husband was mysteriously killed. Did she kill her husband? What about the old lady? Dolores’s estranged daughter (Leigh) isn’t so sure what to feel. She hardly remembers anything about her father’s death (“It was just a bad patch!”).

The central mystery of the film isn’t all that special, but it’s how the mystery unfolds that makes Dolores Claiborne a terrific piece of entertainment. Hackford and Gilroy weave flashbacks within flashbacks with incredible finesse. It doesn’t feel forced; every reveal occurs naturally. Also, the film visually pops out at you. It’s gorgeously lit, and Hackford subtly uses digital effects for flashback transitions. The effect is hypnotizing; you are drawn into the story as it takes you through time.

The cast elevates the film to a whole new level. I mentioned how good of an actress Kathy Bates is. But Dolores Claiborne ranks up there as one of her most indelible characters, alongside Annie Wilkes and Libby Holden. It’s no surprise that King wrote the book with Bates in mind. Dolores is bitter and resentful (“If you wanna know what kind of life a person had, just look at their hands”), but also headstrong and logical. Her daughter Selena is very similar-minded, yet they clash over what’s mostly unsaid between the two. The past has kept them apart. It’s a complex relationship, filled with dark secrets but little regrets.

It’s surprising that the book and screenplay were written by men. Dolores Claiborne is very much a female-driven character piece. The third pivotal female role is Vera Davenport (played wonderfully by stage actress Judy Parfitt), a woman not quite who we assume to be. Like with Dolores and Selena, the layers of her traits are revealed slowly as the film drives toward its memorable conclusion.

Even though these women are the anchors of this film, the men, while more broadly drawn, are portrayed so well by the actors who embody them. Plummer is so good here as a detective driven by the need to close his only unresolved case. Strathairn is more one note (since his scenes are colored from the perspective of Dolores), but he fills the role with great anger and gruffness.

Dolores Claiborne is a change of pace for Stephen King. Like Shawshank, or The Green Mile, it’s not the typical horror story you would expect from him. But there are glimpses of the master at work in this story. When Dolores shouted at her husband during a heated argument: “That’s the last time you will ever hit me. Next time, one of us is going to the bone yard.” That line there is unmistakably King.

Hidden Treasures: Running on Empty, Night Falls on Manhattan

We lost a Hollywood legend last weekend. Sidney Lumet, 86, left us a legacy of smart dramas and lean thrillers. The tributes were pouring out following the days of his death and we learned that his resume is one of unparalleled success. Any filmmaker would kill to have at least one of these titles under their belts:

The Verdict
Dog Day Afternoon
Network
Murder on the Orient Express
Serpico
12 Angry Men

Rightfully so, the blogosphere heralded Lumet as a master class filmmaker, listing these half-dozen classics in every piece. My personal favorite Lumet film is Dog Day Afternoon which, among other things, delivered us Al Pacino’s finest performance. Runner up: the nail biter that was 12 Angry Men. His last film, Before the Devil Knows Your Dead, is a movie of considerable tension and expert craftsmanship. You’d be hard-pressed to believe it was made by an 82-year-old.

There are a few I have yet seen. Prince and the City. Q & A. Long Day’s Journey Into Night. The Pawnbroker. My queue is filled with rich treasures from a grade-A movie-maker I cannot wait to continue discovering.

However, I noticed some Lumet titles missing from the obituaries circulating the web. These two movies may not be hard-core classics like ones listed above but are clearly worth mentioning as strong, emotional projects. For those who appreciate quality filmmaking and good old-fashioned storytelling should dig a little deeper and queue up these Lumet gems.

Running on Empty (1988)
Possibly the most over-looked film in Lumet’s resume, a movie of great power and emotion. River Phoenix, who earned an Oscar nomination, gave us his best performance here as a teen whose childhood consisted of running away with his hippie underground parents and little brother. They would settle into a new town, get comfortable and then be forced to leave once the fuzz got too close. One day, Phoenix has had enough. He met a girl he liked (Martha Plimpton), his musical skills are becoming refined and he wants to build a life. How could his parents prevent him from growing roots? Christine Lahti and Judd Hirsch are extraordinary as the criminals who eventually realize that they need to let their son go.

Night Falls on Manhattan (1996)
Lumet assembled a phenomenal cast, one of his best, in this crackling courtroom thriller about a newly appointed district attorney (Andy Garcia) who is thrown into the spotlight when a case involving a major police shooting is handed over to him. His father, a cop (Ian Holm), was a victim of the shooting, and he soon learns that he may have been involved in some shady dealings. Garcia is torn between his new career as a hotshot lawyer and his family. James Gandolfini is Holm’s partner, who is clearly hiding something. Colm Feore is the lawyer who got pushed aside to make way for Garcia’s star to rise. Richard Dreyfuss is smarmy and great as the defense attorney trying to uncover the lies. And in the best performance of the film, Ron Liebman plays Garcia’s boss, Chief Morganstern, a hot-tempered attorney with the election in his sights. Lena Olin, Paul Guilfoyle and Dominic Chianese (as the judge) round out the cast. Night Falls on Manhattan is a feast for those who love juicy, firecracker performances, and a fine example of why Sidney Lumet, who also wrote the screenplay, will long be remembered as an actor’s director.

Hidden Treasure: The Door in the Floor

When John Irving’s novel A Widow for One Year came out in 1998, it was said to be unfilmable. It’s a sprawling, decades-spanning story that follows Ruth Cole from childhood through middle-age. It had three distinct sections, each focusing on a reflective period in Ruth’s life. No one in Hollywood wanted to touch it.

Then one day, a young writer named Tod Williams went to Irving and said he wanted to adapt his book into a movie, but only the first section. Irving was thrilled. He sold the rights to Williams for $1.

And that’s how The Door in the Floor (2004) was born.

Ruth is 4 years old in this film and is played by the precocious Elle Fanning. Her parents are in an unhappy marriage. Her two older brothers were killed in a car accident. Ruthie was born after the accident so she enlists her father to tell her stories about them through pictures that are displayed in the family’s home. Ted Cole (Jeff Bridges) is an esteemed writer and artist, “an entertainer of children,” and clearly adores his little girl. But his wife Marion (Kim Basinger) has never emotionally recovered from the loss of their sons. She’s shut off from the world and has become a distant mother and wife.

One summer, Ted hires a college student to work with him at their home in the Hamptons. Eddie (Jon Foster) wants to be a writer and relishes the chance to work under a respected author, while Ted, who lost his license a few years back, really just needs a driver.

Eddie is immediately drawn to the reclusive Marion and the two connect in ways that eventually awakens both from their respective shells.

Williams not only wrote the film, but he also directed it. For a novice, it’s an impressive, assured effort. The screenplay is unforced and refreshingly adult. The sex scenes have an almost disturbing angle to them. Eddie is barely legal and he reminds Marion of one of her sons. It’s hard to fully grasp her motivations for sleeping with him, but we don’t have to understand. We can only empathize. It’s the first time she’s felt something in years.

Kim Basinger, who won an Oscar for L.A. Confidential 8 years earlier, shows us that given the right material, she can knock one out of the park. Her sadness is palpable. It’s easy to see why Eddie is so drawn to her. She’s radiant, even when she isn’t full of life. For me, this is Basinger at her finest.

Jeff Bridges, an actor who is always good, also has never been this good. He elevates every scene he is in. Ted Cole has mourned for his sons, but he’s still alive. He still feels. He hired Eddie specifically because he looks like one of his sons. Before Eddie arrived, Ted initiated a trial separation from Marion, freeing her to act on her impulses. You could really say Ted second-handedly orchestrated the whole affair, but what did he expect the outcome to be? Did he want Marion to leave? Nothing is wrapped up neatly, nothing is clearly answered. Eddie’s arrival made a bigger mess of things that already were, but perhaps that is what Ted and Marion really wanted. Eddie shook them out of their stalled marriage.

Foster, a newcomer (his brother Ben is the more recognizable actor of the two), plays Eddie with a sweet naivete. But as he embroils himself into the Coles’ drama, his respect and admiration for Ted grows into disdain. It’s a solid, layered performance.

Ruth Cole is the star of the novel but is relegated as a minor (though pivotal) character here. Fanning is endearing in the role, displaying a similar charm and grace that her sister, Dakota, is known for. Mimi Rogers is terrific in a small, daring bit as an unfortunate footnote to Ted Cole’s disastrous unraveling.

The Door in the Floor is not a perfect movie. It’s slow and some of the character motivations are questionable. But I love how the actors bring these characters’ imperfections to life. They are all flawed people behaving indecently and irrationally yet we kind of understand why.

There is a scene towards the end of the film when Basinger and Bridges confront each other for the first (and last) time since the affair. No words are said. They look into each other deeply, their history and pain far beyond anything any of us could imagine. They touch each other affectionately. They communicate through their eyes, their fingers. I can’t think of a better scene to demonstrate how good these actors are. Bridges and Basinger are at the top of their games here, making The Door in the Floor an absorbing, thoughtful viewing experience.