Return of the Jedi (1983)

Return of the Jedi, now better known as Star Wars: Episode VI – Return of the Jedi, raises a number of significant questions: What is the nature of our true identity? How important are genetics in determining whether we become good or evil? Can there be good in evil people? Can we overcome or control our evil impulses? The film doesn’t necessarily resolve all of these issues, but it does provide a satisfying closure to the initial Star Wars trilogy of films. The word “return” in the title is an apt one. The plot returns to Luke Skywalker’s home planet of Tatooine, as Luke (Mark Hamill), Leia (Carrie Fisher), Chewbacca, C-3PO, and R2-D2—with some assistance from Lando Calrissian (Billy Dee Williams, seriously underused here)—attempt to rescue Han Solo (still encased in carbonite almost a year since the events in Star Wars: Episode V – The Empire Strikes Back) from the possession of Jabba the Hut. Luke then returns to Dagobah to complete his training with Jedi master Yoda, only to discover that Yoda feels he has nothing more to teach him and, therefore, no reason to continue existing. Before he expires, Yoda does confirm that Darth Vader was formerly Anakin Skywalker, Luke’s father, before he succumbed to the Dark Side of the Force (and that Luke has a sibling). Finally, the film also returns to the Death Star—well, not quite. It’s a better, more powerful, yet allegedly unfinished Death Star that the Rebels again have to destroy, but the basics of how to demolish this new weapon are very similar to those in the initial Star Wars. Hamill gets more of a focus in this film, particularly in its emphasis on the father-son dynamic between Luke and Darth Vader, and he uses it to demonstrate a greater solemnity in his acting style. He grew quite a lot as an actor over these three science fiction/fantasy films. Harrison Ford’s Han Solo isn’t as much of a central character here, but he manages to get a couple of memorable lines and a couple of solid action sequences. It’s really Fisher as Leia who gets more opportunities to be an action hero in this third film. The princess disguises herself as a bounty hunter in order to infiltrate Jabba’s palace, an exciting start to the film’s action. However, the fanboys (and viewers of the TV series Friends) will no doubt only or primarily recall her appearance in the gold bikini she’s forced to wear as Jabba’s prisoner. It’s quite sexist to objectify the main female character for such an extended period of time in the film; she could have been depicted as the strong, powerful Rebel leader that she is without resorting to skimpy costumes. You also can’t review this film without mentioning the Ewoks, the cuddly teddy bears on the moon of Endor who help the Rebels defeat the Empire. They are proficient at fighting, but I doubt many people who viewed the film upon its initial release walked out of the theater remembering how fierce the Ewoks were as warriors. The greatest tension of the entire initial trilogy is perhaps the sequence involving attempts by Vader and the Emperor (an oily Ian McDiarmid) to convert Luke to the Dark Side. The resolution of that struggle is perhaps even more satisfying than the demolition of the new Death Star, given that we’d seen something similar happen just six years earlier in Star Wars: Episode IV – A New Hope. Honestly, for my part, had the Star Wars films ended with this one, I think it would have been more satisfying that having creator George Lucas develop an underwhelming prequel trilogy and then having J.J. Abrams “revive” the franchise by “revisiting” some of the best parts of the original film. Of course, I’m not the head of a film production company that sees numerous opportunities to make money, so perhaps my judgment in that regard is lacking.

Oscar Win: Special Achievement Award for Visual Effects

Other Oscar Nominations: Best Art Direction, Best Sound, Best Sound Effects Editing, and Best Original Score

Terms of Endearment (1983)

True confession time: When I finally got around to purchasing a videocassette play back in the mid-1980s--I was never an Early Adopter, I guess--one of the first movies I purchased (on VHS, remember that?) was Terms of Endearment, winner for Best Picture of 1983. My other purchase was Charlie Chaplin's The Gold Rush. Don't ask me what they have in common other than being classic movies. And I got them both at the Wal-Mart in Starkville, Mississippi, so I guess it wasn't quite the cultural wasteland people might think.

Terms of Endearment starts with Aurora Greenway (a fantastic Shirley MacLaine) coming into her baby daughter Emma's room, fearful that the child has succumbed to crib death. Aurora tries to climb into the crib with her daughter, but failing that, she pinches Emma until the baby begins to cry. Satisfied that Emma is okay, Aurora leaves the room while the baby is still crying. With an opening like that, how can you resist watching to see how this relationship will unfold?

There are actually two main plotlines in Terms of Endearment--at least, until the final half hour--and they intersect briefly at various moments. One is the story of Emma, who grows up to be Debra Winger, a somewhat free spirit compared to the no-nonsense Aurora. Emma marries Flap Horton (Jeff Daniels) over her mother's objections and proceeds to have three children while following her husband first to Iowa and then to Nebraska for teaching jobs. Along the way, she also starts up an affair with a married banker (John Lithgow) who is so very appreciative of the attention that Emma gives him.

The other story is, of course, what happens to Aurora after Emma leaves. She still calls her daughter every day, sometimes several times a day, just so they can gossip, but Aurora begins to fancy the former astronaut who lives next door, Garrett Breedlove (Jack Nicholson, far less annoying to me than he usually is). Theirs is a complicated romance, given his penchant for chasing younger women and drinking. Aurora considers herself to be a refined woman of the world, but she too begins to enjoy the burgeoning sexual relationship between them. Their first "date," a lunch followed by a drive along the beach, is hilarious.

Much of the film is comedic in tone, actually, which might surprise those who have only heard of Terms of Endearment as being a tearjerker. MacLaine, however, is a fine comedic actress, and she knows how to deliver a line for maximum effect. Even Winger's storyline as Emma is filled with lighthearted moments. Only the last half hour, once Emma has been diagnosed with a terminal case of cancer, is downbeat without much levity. It's a powerful half hour, though, highlighted by Winger's speech to her two sons. She's called them into her room to say her final goodbyes, and if you can keep from tearing up when she tells them how much and why she loves them, you're a stronger person than I am.

MacLaine was the sentimental favorite to win Best Actress that year (and did), but Winger is her equal here. They do have very different acting styles, but perhaps because their characters are so different from each other, it works here. Whatever might have happened off-camera during the shooting of this film (and the rumors have been rampant for decades now), it all seems to come together on the screen itself in a way that enhances their interaction.

I know a lot of people will avoid this film because it's too sentimental or too focused on the mother-daughter dynamic--they'll tag it a "chick flick," that demeaning term meant to suggest that only women would like it--but to do so cheats you out of watching some fine acting and some sharp dialogue (written by director James L. Brooks and based upon the book by Larry McMurtry). Terms of Endearment earns all of the laughs and tears honestly, and it features great supporting turns by Lithgow, Daniels, the child actors, even Nicholson. Perhaps that's why it was one of my first videotape purchases a couple of decades ago.

Tender Mercies (1983)

A nominee for Best Picture of 1983, Tender Mercies follows the life of a country singer whose career has seen better days. After spending too many nights as a drunk, ruining his career in the process, Mac Sledge falls in love with a widow who owns a store and gas station in the middle of nowhere. She helps him to achieve sobriety, and he befriends her young son. They form a new family, and Mac slowly begins to rebuild his life. He even takes a few tentative steps toward returning to singing the country music that he loves.

This is a quiet, understated film. Not a great deal happens in it, just the day-to-day lives of people who struggle and sometimes fail but persevere nonetheless. It sounds almost like a cliche when I describe the movie in that way, but its simplicity is really the key to its success. Watching Mac slowly find his way again is like watching a small miracle take place. The lead performance of Robert Duvall, who deservedly won the Oscar for Best Actor, is a revelation. With the tiniest of gestures and with relatively little dialogue, Duvall manages to embody this singer's life in the most human and realistic way. You get the sense that you are watching an actual person's life being depicted on the screen.

The rest of the cast is good too. Tess Harper is a strong and stable force as Mac's new wife. She's the kind of person you'd want to stand beside you as you struggle to make things right again in your life. Betty Buckley plays Mac's ex-wife who has gone on to have a successful singing career of her own, and she's terrific at showing just how damaged she has been by Mac's behavior in the past. You can understand why she's not ready to trust him again. A very young Ellen Barkin appears briefly as Mac's grown daughter, and Wilford Brimly is his usual gruff but reliable self as Buckley's manager. And kudos to Allan Hubbard, who plays Sonny, Mac's stepson. His scenes with Duvall are very tender; there's a clear bond displayed between them. I love the scene where they're throwing a football around in the field across from the store; it's a moment of genuine emotion. Surprisingly, Hubbard apparently never acted again after this movie; it was his only role in film.

I must say that I also really enjoyed the scenes of the up-and-coming band that Mac starts to guide. When these young men first show up to meet the "great" Mac Sledge, Harper is reluctant to let them in, fearing that her husband will revert to his old ways too easily. However, they're so earnest and seemingly honest in their respect for him that she eventually relents. Through Mac's help and with his occasional lead vocals (Duvall is a passable singer too), the band starts to make a name for itself. You can see how enticing performing is when you watch these young men play music. What a nice contrast to have them at the start of their career matched with someone who's already had a career and knows some of what's in store.