Debuta en DVD 

  
Fabricación bajo demanda de servicios Libera el favorito de los fans
Protagonizada por Dan Aykroyd y John Belushi
 
 
Culver City, CALIF. (6 de octubre de 2011) – Sony Pictures Home Entertainment (SPHE) debuta a los vecinos remasterizada (1981) en DVD como parte de su “Columbia Classics” alineación. La comedia reteamed Dan Aykroyd (Los cazafantasmas) y John Belushi (Animal House), después de sus triunfos en “Saturday Night Live” y la exitosa película The Blues Brothers. Un hombre tranquilo estilo de vida suburbano pacífica está amenazada por la nueva pareja, desagradable que se mueve en el de al lado. Los consumidores pueden comprar el auténtico y de alta calidad DVD en Amazon, Warner Archive (wbshop.com) o Video Critics ‘Choice (CCVideo.com). Los vecinos tendrán un costo de $ 20.95 SLP, más gastos de envío.
 
sinopsis
Earl Keese (John Belushi, Animal House) es un poco de sobrepeso, un tipo bastante normal que se acercan a la edad media. Lleva una vida bastante cómoda junto a su familia en su casa de las afueras … hasta que la casa de al lado es adquirida por una pareja verdaderamente rara, Vic (Dan Aykroyd) y Ramona (Cathy Moriarty, Raging Bull), que rápidamente se procederá a la unidad conde loco. Comportamiento lunático Vic ha Earl correr en círculos, mientras que la seducción grueso Ramona deja jadeando. En resumen, la vida tranquila de Earl es pronto puesto patas arriba. Si se ríe usted quiere, se trata de los vecinos a mirar en el. John G. Avildsen (The Karate Kid, 1984, Para siempre?) Dirige un reparto de comedia sueño (incluyendo SNL regulares Kazurinsky Tim), con guión de la única y Larry Gelbart (Tootsie, La caja de las sorpresas).

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This John Hughes classic follows high school sweethearts Jake and Kristy Briggs as they settle into married life. But Jake’s not completely sold on the idea of giving up his freedom — or his fantasies of a dream girl. Kristy decides to speed things up by going off birth control without telling Jake — until three months later, when they’ve failed to conceive, and Jake agrees to go to a fertility clinic.

Three Men and a Baby (1987) Rated PG

When an infant named Mary is left on their doorstep, three bachelor roommates channel their feminine side and become surrogate parents to the tyke. After a few false starts, the guys eventually take to their little bundle of joy. But questions linger about the baby’s real origins, and why drug dealers are taking an interest in their life.

For Keeps (Maybe Baby) (1988) Rated PG-13

Molly Ringwald heads the cast as Darcy Elliot, an ambitious teen with big plans for college and a career in journalism — until she ends up pregnant in this modern morality tale from director John G. Avildsen. Opting to keep the baby, Darcy and her boyfriend marry, but will a host of pressures — including school, parenthood and a stack of bills — break up the young family?

Parenthood (1989) Rated PG-13

Director Ron Howard teams with Steve Martin for a heartwarming comedy about life’s most rewarding occupation: parenthood. Gil and Karen Buckman are facing the age-old dilemma of trying to raise their children the “right” way. But as Gil and the rest of his clan soon discover, being the “perfect” parent often means just letting children be themselves.

Look Who’s Talking (1989) Rated PG-13

Mollie is a single working mother who’s out to find the perfect father for her child. Her baby, Mikey, prefers James, a cab driver turned babysitter who has what it takes to make them both happy. But Mollie won’t even consider James. It’s going to take all the tricks a baby can think of to bring them together before it’s too late. Amy Heckerling wrote and directed this baby’s-eye-view comedy.

Honorable Mention:

Bella (2006) Rated PG-13

Two lost souls — Nina, a pregnant, unmarried waitress, and Jose, an introspective cook with a tragic past — find solace in each other as their lives become unpredictably linked throughout the one incredible day. First-time director Alejandro Gomez Monteverde also co-wrote the screenplay for this inspirational story about love, hope and forgiveness.

Synopsis by Netflix.

Directed by

Screenplay by Ernest Tidyman, based upon the book by Robin Moore

Starring Gene Hackman, Roy Scheider and Fernando Rey

The Oscars have been known to follow the latest trends, gleeefully heaping awards on the latest flash-in-the-pan – those films or filmmakers that show promise, or even brilliance, but who never rise to the same level again.  The earliest of the bunch that comes to mind is Delbert Mann for directing Marty.  Like any next best thing he shot to the ultimate top of his profession, winning an Oscar for directing the film, only to fall immediately back to earth.  Even if he wasn’t exactly never heard from again, it seemed pretty close to it.

Of all the decades, the 70s were the worst at this.  After all, between 1970 and 1979, the Best Director Oscar was given out three times to men who’d never been nominated before or since their wins – Franklin Schaffner, John G. Avildsen and Michael Cimino.  And two other times the Award went to men who would only wind up with two total nominations in the category – William Friedkin and George Roy Hill – both of whom had their first and second nominations within five years of each another.  In Friedkin’s case, it was only one.

Perhaps the Oscar voters can be faulted at as being all-too-human, following the latest fads just like anybody else – after all, the 70s were the time of the Pet Rock and if that fad could catch on, why not Michael Cimino?

But even if that were true, how could it explain that the 70s were also the time when the Academy was most inclusive and that, while they were busy honoring the next-big-thing they were also recognizing more ‘foreign films’ and their directors, than ever before.  After all, the seventies saw two nominations each for two titans of world cinema, Fellini and Bergman, and one each for such varied a group as Jan Troell, Francois Truffaut, Lina Wertmuller, and Edouard Molinaro.

Clearly, if there’s one lesson to be learned, it’s that the Academy can be a little erratic and that maybe the value of an Oscar should be taken with a grain of salt.  But I digress.

The obvious connection all of this has to this entry of the Best Picture Project is that the winning picture of 1971 was directed by one such flash in the pan described above – William Friedkin.

In some ways it’s not fair to call Friedkin a flash in the pan.  After all, the man has had a 45 year career in films and TV, has had hits in pretty much every decade, and was never thought to be the hack that some of his fellow winners became.  Plus, the two films he was nominated as Best Director for are outright classics – The Exorcist is truly the scariest movie ever made.  Not to mention that another of his films, Sorcerer, is an underrated remake of Wages of Fear.

But part of me wants to stick to the flash in the pan status, given how rote so much of The French Connection is, even though I know the film being rote has less to do with itself than 40 years of intervening films that have ripped it off, for better or worse.  In essence, seeing it when I do unfairly harms it because I don’t get the visceral thrill the film delivered in 1971, I get 40 years of endless riffs that have made the film so familiar.

Taken on is own terms, The French Connection is a fine little film, and at approximately 100 minutes, it’s fairly modest in run time.  It’s so modest you can almost see it twice over in the run time of its fellow nominee Fiddler on the Roof.  Telling the story of two New York cops stumbling on a major drug deal, only to fail at the end and let the bad guys get away, it is slippery, tricky and really does provide a visceral thrill, fully summed up in its legendary car/train chase about one hour into the film.  On it’s own, a nice little film.  And even against its fellow nominees it’s not too shabby, even though 1971 has got to be one of the toughest Best Picture years ever, with Fiddler on the Roof, A Clockwork Orange and my personal favorite among them, The Last Picture Show all rating Best Picture noms.

Historically, though, The French Connection barely seems important to even be included in that group, looked at now as more a product of its time than something timeless.

But as much as I might be troubled that The French Connection won Best Picture, where I’m really ambivalent is about Gene Hackman’s Oscar.  It’s not that he gives a bad performance in the film, because it’s clearly a film that fails if he fails.  It’s just that his performance is more about toughness and yelling than real drama.  There’s no subtlety to it, not in the same way he made Little Bill in Unforgiven subtle in his menace, which makes me wonder if it’s really Oscar-worthy at all.

As An Aside

One thing that’s interesting about Friedkin is that just before watching The French Connection I read Ralph Rosenblum’s seminal book, When The Shooting Stops, The Cutting Begins – curiously, I read it on a semi-recommendation of Christine Vachon, who mentions it prominently in her book, A Killer Life.  One of the biggest plot points of the book, if a non-fiction book can have a plot point, concerns the early Friedkin film,  The Night They Raided Minsky’s.  From the description Rosenblum gives of the film, showing up and finding the intial construction of the film an absolute mess, he was convinced Friedkin was essentially a no-talent ass-clown who had no idea what he was doing.  It was only after nine months of his own laborious editing, while Friedkin was half the world away making another film, that the film was saved from itself.  The irony of course is that once the film was out, Friedkin got the plaudits while Rosenblum got nothing.

For the other winners and films left to see, click here.

Peter Boyle as the titular 'Joe'

Written by Norman Wexler

Directed by John G. Avildsen

Starring Peter Boyle, Dennis Patrick and Susan Sarandon

Released after a one year delay, Joe was part of the ultra independent nearly Gonzo style film making of films like Easy Rider that examined the cultural rift between the new age hippies and the older generation of people who couldn’t comprehend what they viewed as a desecration of morals and values in America. When straight laced, white-collar Bill (Dennis Patrick) wanders into a bar for a much needed beer after a violently disastrous confrontation with his young daughter (Susan Sarandon!) and her junkie boyfriend, he meets a loud mouthed blue-collar worker named Joe (Peter Boyle). Joe and Bill have different styles, but they seem to share the same conservative old school values. Joe agrees to help Bill find his wayward daughter to bring her home safely.

They traverse the darker parts of town, finding themselves in the strange creepy world of macrobiotics (sushi) and people living off the grid. They find themselves immersed in hippie culture where their belief systems are challenged by the opportunities of free expression they witness amongst the youth. Confused, shamed and angry they continue on looking for Sarandon with one disaster after another, either of a violent kind of a social faux pax kind in their wake.

It’s a brilliant script that examines the different sides of a society that sees in black and white terms when the situation is much more complicated. Bill and Joe make hypocritical decisions, they find themselves at odds with each other despite a supposedly similar goal and in the end, they accomplish nothing that could be considered good or constructive.

It’s a fascinating deconstruction of the cultural upheavals of the late 60′s and early 70′s that, despite its ultra-low budget and choppy visuals, is still an important social document and in some ways more entertaining than much higher budget fare. Everybody is great in this, especially Patrick and Boyle, who are utterly convincing.

Jack Lemmon and Jack Gilford (on the phone) in 'Save the Tiger'

Written by Steve Shagan

Directed by John G Avildsen

Starring Jack Lemmon

Jack Lemmon’s pinnacle performance of his career (he won Best Actor for the role), he manages to deconstruct his on-screen persona into a sadder, desperate version of his everyman persona, which he would echo years later in Glengarry Glen Ross. Lemmon is Harry Stoner, a successful businessman who has forged his little piece of success in the world through a life of hard work and honest business practices. He’s awoken on the day of his annual sales presentation to investors and potential clients he finds one thing after another going wrong. Stoner is beside himself with anger, regret and panic, but also must go about his day as if everything is fine while he deals with customers, employees and his family.

It’s a brilliant performance that utilizes the full range of Lemmon’s capabilities as an actor. He can be a very friendly everyman and plays a salesman like no other actor can, but at the same time the despair he can project in his crumpled up face or his slightly agape lips as his motormouth is brought to a grinding halt by the insurmountable problems he’s facing is exceptional. As well known as he is for his comedic timing and ability to sell any line, the physical side of his acting, particularly his dramatic parts, goes largely unheralded. Save the Tiger is the shining example his ability to go beyond what most actors are capable of as he bridges the old school theatrical acting with the new school style of subdued, realistic performing, juggling shaky business deals and a partner (Jack Gilford, nearly matching Lemmon’s realistic relatability) with a morally-ambiguous plan to recoup their livelihoods in a selfish and illegal fashion.

As he moves through his day, Stoner picks up a hitch hiking hippie with whom he has a relaxing tryst in which he gets to experience the care free nature of youth for a brief few hours. He doesn’t forget his problems, he merely has a chance to put them in perspective and consider his entire life in relation to this momentous day. The final denouement at the investor’s meeting is heart breaking and enlightening at the same time as Lemmon makes one last stand for his dignity in ill-conceived fashion.

Avildsen directs with a deft hand that avoids sensationalizing his scenes, attempting to create characters an audience could see as existing in the real world, perhaps characters we see much of ourselves in, no matter how big the story got. He’s the perfect director for this material, considering what he later did with Rocky and Lean On Me.

Save the Tiger is a brilliantly reserved modern day blue-collar tragedy that improves upon the universal ideas presented in the older play Death of a Salesman. Harry Stoner is a latter day Willy Loman, in a world in which life and death are measured more by checkbooks and profit reports than by our own mortal existence.

John G. Avildsen

John G. Avildsen, b. Chicago, 1936 3968: Okay Bill (s). 1969; Turn on to Love (s); Sweet Dreams (s). 1970: Guess What We Learned in School Today?; Joe. 1971: Cry Uncle. 1972: The Stoolie. 1973; Save the Tiger. 1975: W.W. and the Dixie Dancekirtgs; Fore-play. 1976: Rocky. 1978: Slow Dancing in the Big City. 1980: The Formula. 1981: Neigh-burs. 1983; A Night in Heaven. 1984: The Karate Kid. 1986: The Karate Kid U. 1987: Happy New Year. 1988: For Keeps; Guartlian Angels; Lean on Me. 1989: The Karate Kid III. 1990: Rocky V: The Final Hell 1992: The Power of One. 1994: 8 Seconds. Avildsen worked as an assistant director and : as a cameraman, and he had credits on I Mickey One (65, Arthur Penn), Hurry Sundown (67, Otto Freminger), arid Out of It (69, Paul Williams), before he made his own i breakthrough with Joe, in which Peter Boyle I played a blue-collar bigot. Since then, Avild- I sen has handled a best picture Oscar-winner I (Rut:ky) and brought a trio of Karate Kids to I fruition without demonstrating an atom of I character. Far more interesting arc the truly [ scabrous Save the Tiger and Neighbors, which I was a decent shot at the delirious narrative I spiral of Thomas Herger’s novel

Rocky is undoubtedly the most successful and influential sporting genre film ever made. As the indefatigable Rocky Balboa, Sylvester Stallone, who also wrote the story and screenplay, became a major Hollywood star on the success of this film. Despite the overly melodramatic story and the improbability of the events, Rocky is an exciting drama which comes to a feel-good and crowd pleasing conclusion that had audiences cheering during the film’s initial theatrical release. As a rags-to-riches story, Rocky has a wide appeal that has spawned numerous sequels, each of which slightly more unrealistic. However, once you suspend your disbelief, Rocky can still be a lot of fun, especially in a theatre where Rocky’s embattled and larger-than-life persona really comes to life (Klaus Ming March 2011).

“Quarterbacks get knocked down, nurses get knocked up, somebody invented the Edsel. Everybody misses.” - Harry Stoner

Character-driven studies of men and women in crisis are commonplace in modern cinema, especially featuring movie stars eager to expand their acting chops and resumes with a project that might get them respect or – even better – awards. To a greater or lesser extent, modern films like Up In The Air,  American Beauty and even The Fighter all owe a debt to 1973′s Save The Tiger, the pater familias of American men-in-meltdown character pieces and probably the apex of Jack Lemmon’s formidable screen career – as well as the role that won him the Best Actor Academy Award.

Lemmon plays Harry Stoner, a World War II veteran  experiencing simultaneous career and personal meltdowns as both his business and personal lives take a turn for the worse. As he explains first to his wife and then his business partner Phil (Jack Gilford), Harry feels the world has passed him by. A veteran of the World War II battle at Anzio, he feels deep survivor’s guilt that’s been complicated by years of ethical and personal compromises in his dress-making company. He expresses his guilt and nostalgia by reminiscing about the baseball of his childhood, reconstructing team lineups and explaining how pitchers wound up before throwing. In less capable hands such weariness would come across as heavy-handed and self-pitying, but Lemmon’s tightly controlled performance communicates such emotions as fatigue rather than self-indulgence.

Meanwhile Harry has some difficult decisions to make. The previous year, it seems, he and Phil performed some creative accounting to keep their business solvent. With a government audit looming, Harry considers hiring an arsonist to burn down their warehouse for the insurance money. Then, with a fashion line debut happening just downstairs, an important client has a heart attack while enjoying two prostitutes Harry arranged to visit him. Enraged at the client, the prostitutes and at himself, but reacting to the injury as if back on the Italian front, Harry nearly snaps. “This isn’t a man, it’s a casualty,” he tells Phil. Obliged to make a speech to his buyers, he visualizes the men he saw die in battle staring at him from the seats. The screen trick of putting the wounded on camera, visible only to Harry, will likely seem overly familiar to modern audiences, thanks to its legions of imitators. Director John G. Avildsen (Rocky) keeps the camera going back in forth in rhythm, making one of a series of clever camera movements that keeps the story’s momentum brisk.

Perhaps unfortunately Harry and Phil’s new line is a success, increasing the pressure to get themselves out of their financial hole. A mob shylock breezes through, offering them money the banks won’t. Harry drags Jack to consult the arsonist (Thayer David) instead, a Sydney Greenstreet-esque professional who explains what he does as a faux-documentary porno plays on the movie theater screen before them. Phil wants out, but Harry recognizes the grim necessity of the move.

“I want another season,” he explains later, to his senior tailor (William Hansen.) The rest of the film becomes increasingly loose in structure, as Harry spends the night stoned with a hitchhiker he’d met that morning. Aching and weary, he rambles a long monologue about 20th Century America while the girl (Laurie Heineman) looks on in helpless pity. “I want… to walk in that rain that never washes perfume away,” he tells her. “I wanna be in love with something. Anything. Just the idea. A dog, a cat. Anything. Just something.” The next morning, he agrees to the arsonist’s stipulations but begs to keep Phil out of the deal.

The final scene is one of those symbolic 70s endings that people discuss and argue about until the meaning becomes clearer but always up for debate. Wandering the streets, Harry finds a group of children playing baseball in a park. Given the opportunity to throw the ball, he winds up and sends it soaring into the trees behind the dugouts. “Why’d you do that, mister?”  the kids ask. “I wanted you to see it once,” Harry tells them. The children are unforgiving – “You can’t play with us!” one of them shouts – and the final image is of Harry watching the game go on from behind a fence, a short but crucial distance separating him from the world for which he aches.

- Michael Kabel

:: :: :: :: :: :: :: :: :: :: ::

Adrian Pennino: You want a roommate?
Rocky Balboa: Absolutely.