Predator (1987)

 

Ostensibly, Predator is a movie about a commando mission to an unnamed Central American country that goes horribly wrong. The team, led by Arnold Schwarzenegger’s Dutch, was sent under false pretenses but wind up with bigger concerns than the fact that they’re being used. It’s all about some Cold War era concern about the Soviet’s invading the region. Of course, none of this truly matters because this is really a movie about how an extraterrestrial starts to stalk the members of the team, killing them one by one in some rather gruesome ways. I think I got the order of deaths correct: Hawkins (Shane Black), Blain (Jesse “The Body” Ventura), Mac (Bill Duke), Dillon (Carl Weathers), Billy (Sonny Landham), and Poncho (Richard Chaves). That leaves just Dutch to get rid of the Predator, and that’s no easy feat. The alien has cloaking technology, so it can easily disappear in the thick jungle, and it has the ability to see the humans through its infrared or thermal imaging vision (if that is the correct word for it). The onscreen rendering of these characteristics is, of course, what gained an Oscar nomination for the film’s visual effects, and special attention should also be granted to the costume and makeup for the creature itself and its glowing green blood. There’s a reason that we’ve had a series of sequels and prequels since this original film was released. It’s almost 67 minutes into the action before we see a full image of the predator (or a somewhat full image), and we don’t see its face until the last ten minutes or so of the film. Much like the shark in Jaws, I suppose, less is more when it comes to building tension? I guess that also gives us more time to enjoy Schwarzenegger’s performance and his delivery of such classic lines as “Get to the chopper” in that often-mimicked accent of his. If I have any complaints about the film, it’s that the camera locations and angles tend to signal too clearly where the Predator will appear next, and the fact that all it takes is mud to throw off its ability to find the humans makes it seem somewhat less threatening. Predator has always seemed like more of an action film than horror or science fiction to me, but the blend of genres and Schwarzenegger’s charisma work to great effect here.

Oscar Nomination: Best Visual Effects

RoboCop (1987)

 

RoboCop has a lot of villains. Set in a future dystopian Detroit, the film reveals a city filled with criminals and crime, a dangerous and deadly place to be a police officer. On his first day in a new precinct, Murphy (Peter Weller) gets brutally killed by a gang of criminals led by Kurtwood Smith’s Clarence Boddicker. (Yes, the guy who played the father on That 70s Show is a criminal mastermind/crime boss.) Murphy’s body is modified by OCP, a corporation that has taken control of the police department, and he becomes the cyborg RoboCop. He proves to be remarkably effective at police work, stopping a liquor store robbery, an attempted rape, and a tense hostage situation involving a political loser. Given that he’s a cyborg whose body is mostly metal and machine, he also can’t be easily hurt or killed either; he just needs to recharge now and then. During one of those recharging sessions, he has a series of flashbacks; his makers apparently didn’t erase everything. He remembers his wife and son, and more importantly, he remembers his murder. That sends him off on a quest to capture Boddicker and his accomplices, one of whom is played by Ray Wise before the TV shows Twin Peaks and Fresh Off the Boat, another of whom is played by Paul McCrane after the movie Fame but before the TV show E.R. The film actually includes quite a few reliable actors, including Nancy Allen as Murphy’s partner who witnesses his murder and tries to connect to him personally after he becomes RoboCop and Ronny Cox as the OCP executive whose failure to create a mechanical cop leads to the RoboCop program’s success, a move that makes him incredibly bitter and prone to a desire for revenge. In other words, he’s another villain. With all of its emphasis on crime, RoboCop is a very, very violent movie at times, and we aren’t spared from watching the grisly demise of several characters. Murphy’s death, for instance, is quite gruesome. It’s little wonder that the movie initially received an X rating due to its violent content; what we have now is the “softer” version, and it’s still quite shocking. The film is also much campier than I remembered from the last time I saw it decades ago. Weller’s deadpan reading of the line “Dead or alive, you’re coming with me!” alone is laugh-inducing each time he states it. The director, Paul Verhoeven, isn’t known for his subtle touch; his later films include Basic Instinct, Showgirls, and Starship Troopers, none of them exactly masterpieces of keeping their moments from being laughable. On a side note, RoboCop shares with Starship Troopers the use of commercials that are sometimes funnier or more interesting than the rest of the movie. The one for a vehicle called the 6000 SUX is especially hilarious. I will admit that it’s a bit surprising that the film wasn’t nominated for Best Visual Effects, especially in a year with only two nominees in the category: Innerspace and Predator. (You might still be surprised to learn that Predator was NOT the winner.) If there’s a “deeper” message to RoboCop, it might be the warning against corporations taking control over police departments, the military, hospitals, etc. Of course, we haven’t heeded that warning at all, given how much those functions have become increasingly privatized since 1987. You’d think after watching OCP’s first attempt at a fully mechanized robot cop (Cox’s invention), we’d know better. Watching the ED-209 malfunction and kill a OCP executive is what actually provides the opportunity for Miguel Ferrer’s Morton at OCP to create RoboCop (and become a higher-ranking executive and turn into yet another villain and be targeted by his former boss and…). Maybe it’s also trying to suggest that no matter how mechanized or mechanical we might become, it’s our humanity or whatever is left of it that might save us. I doubt many viewers gave the film’s narrative a great deal of deep thought; they just enjoyed the fun of watching Weller as the former cop who can’t be stopped now that he’s a cyborg. It is a shame that the actor’s face and those hypnotic eyes are covered up for most of the film.

Oscar Win: Special Achievement Award for Sound Effects Editing

Other Nominations: Best Film Editing and Best Sound

The Last Emperor (1987)

The Last Emperor won the Oscar for Best Picture of 1987, and it's a glorious spectacle of a movie. Ostensibly the story of the last man to serve as emperor of China, Pu Yi, it is also a historical account of what happened to China during much of the 20th Century. Director Bernardo Bertolucci and his crew managed to get permission to film within the so-called "Forbidden City," and they spared no expense in presenting what life was like for the emperors during the latter years of their reign. The Academy voters were very fond of large-scale or epic filmmaking like this for a long period of time in the 1980s and 1990s, and while some of their choices (ahem, Dances with Wolves) were truly bad ones, I think The Last Emperor is deserving of its Oscar for Best Picture due to its blending of the story of an individual man into the sweep of historical events that enfolded him.

Much of the film is told in flashback by the adult Pu Yi, who is accused in the 1950s of war crimes for having collaborated with the Japanese before World War II. He is subjected to repeated interrogations by the Communists in control of China, and they want to know the details of his life and how he came to betray (their word) his country. He is asked to write down the story of his life and to confess his sins, as are all of the prisoners, but nothing he writes satisfies the Communists. He must repeatedly return to be questioned.

In these flashbacks, we are given glimpses into key moments of Pu Yi's life, such as when he is named at age 3 to be the new emperor. Rather than listen carefully to the aged Dowager Empress as she makes the proclamation that will change his life, he plays a game of hide and seek. It's a charming sequence, following by an image of the young Pu Yi walking from the throne room out into the courtyard filled with eunuchs and soldiers and hangers-on. You've undoubtedly seen this sequence, with its yards of flowing yellow fabric and that first shot of the assembled crowd in the courtyard. It's pretty amazing to consider how difficult that sequence was to film.

With the establishment of the Republic of China and the installation of a president, the emperor loses whatever power he might have had. The Forbidden City is walled in, both to keep the Republic from entering what remains of the empire and to keep the emperor from leaving. There follows a time of control of China by warlords who battle each other for control, and then the takeover of China by the Communists occurs. You won't get the full flavor of Chinese history by watching The Last Emperor, of course, but you should have a rather clear sense of the broad outline of historical events from the time period. No one could do true justice to the tumultuous history of this large Asian country even in the almost three hours that this film takes to unfurl.

I enjoyed the moments involving the teenaged Pu Yi (played with a sly sense of humor by Wu Tao), particularly his interactions with his new English tutor, Reginald Fleming Johnston (played with archness by the great Peter O'Toole). The young emperor gains a wife, a bicycle, and a pair of glasses during this time. The moments between the emperor and his new empress (Wan Jung, played by Joan Chen) are especially charming. I liked the line from their first night together, "Yes, the emperor would like to see the face of the empress." Of course, he would; she was chosen for him, and he has no idea what he's gotten in the transaction.

What gets Pu Yi into trouble is his desire for reform. He cuts off the ponytail that is traditional. He demands a detailed inventory of the storerooms because he thinks the eunuchs have been stealing from him. When they burn the storerooms rather than be caught, he banishes them from the Forbidden City. (It's quite an intriguing moment to watch them carry their severed "organs" in jars as they leave the city. That's the price of being a eunuch.) He had even tried to negotiate with the Japanese over the territory of Manchuria, his homeland, especially after the Kuomintang, under the leadership of Chiang Kai-shek, robs the tombs of Manchuria and destroys the bodies. The Japanese, of course, later invade Manchuria and seize control, triggering another Sino-Japanese war.

Interestingly, Pu Yi learns about much of what happened in China during this time while being forced to watch a documentary while in prison. He is forced to watch the bombing of Shanghai and the massacre of 200,000 Chinese by the Japanese. He himself is depicted in the film as being little more than a puppet emperor. It's a shock for him to discover how others felt and thought about him during this time; he's unprepared for the revelation.

You have to admire so many of the details of this film. The costumes, the sets, the cinematography, the music--all are handled with such delicate, careful attention. The Last Emperor won nine Oscars, including ones for all of the areas mentioned above. In fact, it won every Oscar for which it was nominated. Oddly enough, it's one of the few Best Picture winners not to receive any acting nominations. Certainly, several members of the cast are outstanding. Lone, as the adult Pu Yi, manages to age several decades throughout the narrative, and he brings a sense of gravity to every moment he's on screen. He has several outstanding moments when he's facing his interrogators, and the scene at the end of the film where Pu Yi purchases a ticket to see his old throne room in the Forbidden City is particularly charming. O'Toole is up to his usual scene-stealing standards in the few sequences in which he appears, and I'd also give kudos to Joan Chen for the range of emotions she's allowed to portray as the Empress.

Most people tend to think of biopics like The Last Emperor as boring history lessons, and to be honest, most of them are. They tend to be presented in such a dull, earnest manner that it's difficult to care much about the people involved in the story. It would be easy to get lost in the pageantry and decor of this film, to pay closest attention to the colors and objects. However, to do so, you'd lose out on a story of how far a man can fall. The Last Emperor shows us what can happen to an individual when the forces of history--forces over which he has no control despite his title--influence a man's life. That's still the heart of this movie, and Bertolucci and Lone and the rest of the cast and crew make that apparent to a viewer throughout the film.