Friday, February 25, 2005

Gun Control

Ralph Steadman remembers his old compadre, the late Hunter S. Thompson.

The word from friends and family, since Thompson's suicide last Sunday, has been that the Doctor of Gonzo Journalism had talked of offing himself when the time was "right," although most have professed some surprise at the timing of his act. The act itself did appear to have an element of whim: he did it while talking to his wife over the phone about helping him write his next ESPN.com column, which doesn't seem like a scenario he fully planned.

But I think the general timeframe in his head was pretty much worked out. A combination of increasing aches and pains due to advanced age, coupled with a belief (likely well-founded, looking at it with cold objectivity) that he had said everything worth saying about George W. Bush, Richard M. Nixon, professional sports and a hundred other subjects dear to his heart. I think he believed that his reason for living rested in the freak power of passion plus aesthetic, and when human limitations started threatening that magic equation, he figured it was time to go.

I can't say much about HST's work that hasn't been said elsewhere, and better. (I find it appropo that his initials evoke another "tell it like it is" figure from American history, Harry S. Truman.) Bottom line is, at his too-infrequent best, Hunter Thompson provided us with some of the finest writing of the 20th Century. His final moment of true literary greatness, his 1994 obit of Nixon, includes an apologia for his Gonzo journalistic style that ought to be required reading for J-school students. But of course it won't be, because as I began to learn from high school on, modern journalism is less about communicating unvarnished truth than it is about reaching marketable compromise between sharing available information and serving corporations and advertisers. Hunter was an entertaining anomaly, a creature on display at the zoo, and he must've known that, but dog forbid he should ever become any kind of role model for "real" journalists toiling in the mainstream.

I started enjoying HST's work in the '70s, when I subscribed to Rolling Stone as a teenager. I come from a family of Nixon haters from way back to the early '50s in California, and his vicious takes on Nixon struck a chord right away. His compilation book The Great Shark Hunt was a pivotal mindblower for me, and I recall it was a book that my late grandfather (liberal but decidedly anti-countercultural) deemed worthy to read, a few years before his death, out of curiosity at what the "new school" was up to. My dad's father was a tough guy, a retired construction worker, a stern disciplinarian (in addition to being a wicked wit), and I think he saw something in Hunter that stood in contrast to what he thought weak and wacked out about '60s counterculture. Here, I think he saw, was a real man pushing the envelope, and grandpa could respect that, no matter the context.

Hunter Thompson always seemed an old soul to me, which made the boyish-looking Johnny Depp's portrayal of him in Terry Gilliam's vivid and funny film version of HST's classic book Fear And Loathing In Las Vegas rather jarring. Depp, as always, was game and able, and in fact was about the same age as Thompson when HST wrote the book in 1971, but his youthful look was the film's weakest link. Bill Murray, who played HST in the disappointingly scattered and muddled film Where The Buffalo Roam in 1980, had HST's "old soul" vibe and aura of ballsiness, and was a better casting match. Pity that Terry Gilliam couldn't have done his project when Murray was younger, but it's fitting that HST's last completed column for ESPN was a phone interview with Murray, about promoting a new sport called "Shotgun Golf."

Thursday, February 24, 2005

Animal Planet

Edited version of article that originally appeared in Oregon Daily Emerald newspaper, April 1988.

Director John Landis recalls Eugene filming of Animal House
by Greg Hough

Although the stock of much 1978 cultural material has dropped in recent years -- after all, Ronald Reagan refers to the late '70s as "those dark days" -- one 1978 phenom, the film National Lampoon's Animal House, remains wildly popular today. In fact, a 1987 Harris Survey showed Animal House to be by far the most popular comedy of modern times: the film has grossed more than $150 million on a $2.3 million budget.

The John Landis-directed film debuted in New York City on July 28, 1978, and is of particular interest to the University of Oregon. It was here that much of Animal House was filmed in the autumn of 1977.

The film is set in 1962 at a small Pennsyvania college called Faber. The film contrasts three forces on the campus: the venal and snobbish fraternity men, the rebellious and raunchy frat men, and the dastardly and order-minded administration.

At the heart of the story are the "animals" of Delta House, who are personified by their unofficial leader, a chubby fireball of energy named John "Bluto" Blutarsky. Aptly played by the late John Belushi, Bluto sets the tone of the movie; whether he's initiating a food fight, engaging in voyuerism, smashing a beer can against his head, or whatever...Bluto represents the element of carefree abandon and hip, youthful fun that is presented here as more worthwhile than any other force on campus.

Both the adminstration and the snobs seek to crush the rebellious and anti-academic Delta House, but in the end Bluto and crew are victorious -- their commitment to irreverence outweighs the smug self-satisfaction of the college's "straight" power elite.

"The backbone of Animal House is its villains," writes actor/author Tony Hendra in his new book on modern comedy, "Going Too Far." Hendra, who wrote for National Lampoon magazine during the 1970s, sees a strong parallel between the corrupt Dean of Faber, Vernon Wormer (played by John Vernon), and the corrupt figures who would show up later in the 1960s in the Nixon Adminstration.

Hendra said he closely associated with the film's three screenwriters -- Harold Ramis, Chris Miller and the late Doug Kenney -- as they were preparing the Animal House script. All three, he writes, also worked with the Lampoon in the 1970s during a period in which Hendra believes represented a high point in modern American humor.

The three screenwriters all went to college during the 1960s, which would seem to support the authenticity of the film's portrayals. Hendra wrote: "Animal House is far less interested in telling us what fun the early '60s were than it is in telling us where the rest of the '60s came from."

***

John Landis, 37, has also directed such films as The Blues Brothers, An American Werewolf In London, Trading Places and Three Amigos. He is currently working on a film with Eddie Murphy in Hollywood, and between takes Thursday spoke by phone with the Emerald.

ODE: Let's talk about some of your experiences in Eugene.

LANDIS: You know, the movie's written for an eastern school. And we were rejected by every school on the East Coast -- when they looked at our script they sort of were pretty horrified. And then there was a guy...(former University President) William Boyd who just read the script and said "Sure!," which kind of threw us for a loop.

It was very enlightened of him. I think he enjoyed it -- I know the campus enjoyed it. We shot 30 or 31 days in Eugene, and it rained every day. The thing I remember the most about the weather is when we shot the Toga Party in the basement of that place (the now-demolished Delta House at 11th Avenue and Patterson Street). It was torrential rains outside -- a deluge! And we were all in there, and it was just very insane -- it was very hot and sweaty. Also, it was terribly cold outside; when we shot the parade in Cottage Grove, it snowed that day.

We used lots of students as extras...I don't know where those guys are now, but they were just, you know, University of Oregon students, that got really into it. I remember when we shot the scene where John Belushi looks at the nude girl in the window, all those girls in that shot were from campus, and that was interesting.

I looked at campuses all over the country. I went to Oklahoma and Texas, and there were places in the Midwest and Southwest that would let us shoot there, but it didn't look at all eastern. We were very pleased when Mr. Boyd said yes, and I kept thinking "He's Hopalong Cassidy" -- I couldn't figure out how William Boyd was running the college -- you know, "William Boyd" -- that's who Hopalong Cassidy was.

The entire cast and crew stayed at the Roadway Inn, except John Belushi, who was flying back and forth, and he got a house.

ODE: Speaking of Belushi, is it true that the idea for the Blues Brothers was born at that time in Eugene?

LANDIS: John had always been a rock and roller. He was very into heavy metal at that time. And Danny Aykroyd had always been into rhythm and blues -- he was sort of an encylopedia of it -- and Danny had been trying to get John interested in it for a long time. There was some (blues) guy in Eugene, Curtis Salgado, who acually John did get interested in. The Blues Brothers wasn't created there -- we made that up later, but John's interest in blues certainly started there.

In the movie, there was "Otis Day and The Knights" (a mythical black R&B group). There was a "black bar" in the movie where Otis and the group played. We used "The Dexter Lake Club"...I think that was the real name of the place, 'cause we didn't change the sign. It in fact was a real shit-kicker bar -- it was a serious redneck place -- and we turned it into a black club, and we put Zebra upholstery and all this stuff, and they loved it! And they kept it!

ODE: How do you look back on the content of the film 10 years later?

LANDIS: It's not nearly as outrageous as its reputation. I mean, people still say to me "That food fight was fantastic!" There is no food fight, really. There's one shot: John yells, "Food fight!", there's a mass of food flying in the air, and cut.

The strength of Animal House, obviously, is that the period is very well evoked, with the wardrobe and etc. etc., and the performances are all terrific. Most of all, the screenplay is wonderful -- the writing is really high caliber -- much more sophisticated than I think anyone would want to give it credit for. That had a lot to do with Doug Kenney. He was an extremely funny person. But what I remember very well was that we were very attacked when it came out, basically by the national critics.

In the first script, there was no difference between the Deltas and the Omegas -- they were equally despicable. And in the rewrites, with Doug and Chris and Harold, we basically made the Deltas more sympathetic, and the Omegas the real bad guys.

What fascinates me the most about Animal House is that I consider the movie fairly tame. When you compare it to Porky's, Police Academy and all of the ripoffs, I find the movie rather sweet, and it's fascinating that we were so attacked at the time. It just shows how things change.

***

Postscript

My impression of the reviews the film got upon its release would be "fair-to-good," with a lot of focus on the film being a career breakout for John Belushi. (Seems like a long time ago now, doesn't it?) I'd imagine the finely tuned Lampoon-like aspects of the film would've prevented too many bad reviews. But I was only 16 at the time, and not privy to all the reviews Landis must've seen, so I'll grant that the movie may well've been "attacked" by some national critics as Landis indicated. He didn't name names, nor would've I expected him to.

One comment Landis made that didn't make it to print is that during the shoot he made a "pilgrimage" to the nearby area where Buster Keaton filmed the classic silent film comedy The General. He wanted to see what was left of the train Keaton used in the movie.

Landis was on a brief break from shooting Coming To America when he returned my call. Later there were reports that he and Eddie Murphy had a difficult time working together on the set; whether or not that was true, Landis seemed easy-going and even playful during the interview, like he was on top of the world.

I was informed by one of Landis' people on a previous call that he would consent to talk if the interview only concerned his experience with Animal House. This did not bother me, as the story's focus was only on that movie, and not on other aspects of the John Landis story, like the controversy over charges of criminal negligence he faced during the '80s, after the deaths of actor Vic Morrow and two children during a scene Landis was filming for Twilight Zone: The Movie. But the pre-emptive aspect of the interview setup was telling of how the Twilight Zone incident had scarred his rep.
Alone

He's a president and a group-encounter leader...

This morning I dreamt that George W. Bush was running a group-encounter session where everyone took turns being stared at by the group. During my turn, naturally I was nervous inside, although of course I tried to play it cool. It helped that my son Andrew was in the group, as I could spend some of the time in the greater comfort zone of looking into his eyes. But even with him it was a bit unnerving, and near the end of my turn I started purposely blurring my vision so that the group's eye contact wouldn't seem as harsh.

I was one of the last of the group to go through this. After it was done, GWB said he would choose between the two remaining people by dividing 370 into two equal halves of 185. I wasn't really grogging the logic there (and neither, it seemed, was GWB) and as I started to walk away I realized...this was all a Saturday Light Live skit.

GWB enthusiastically turned to the crowd and said the group mantra and new SNL catchphrase:

"Am I alone?", he asked the crowd.

"Yes!", he and the crowd roared.

GWB raised his hands high above his head as he said "Yes!", like he was signaling a touchdown.

End of skit. I walked out, and began to formulate my review.

***

Earlier, on a city sidetalk near the big-tent structure where the group-encounter session was held, I was walking with both GWB and his father GHWB. I wanted to confirm something I'd heard earlier, that GHWB had in fact been a U.S. Senator from 1969-1980, which contradicted what I thought I knew about his stints as CIA Director, Ambassador to China and head of the RNC.

Trouble was, when I asked about GHWB's "senatorial career," it was addressed to GWB -- I had mistaken the two. When I and he realized the error, Junior looked off into space and shrugged it off with a benign mumble. Then he walked into the tent to start the group-encounter meeting.

***

Before my encounter with 41 and 43, I was in an auditorium watching a cheesy '60s-era movie featuring an actress who looked like a cross between Lori Saunders and Susan Hampshire. People in the front rows, myself included, were responding to the movie with MST3K-style wisecracks. Chicklet from Peoples Forum and Table Talk was there, observing that the Saunders/Hampshire hybrid "looks like one of the Jos" from Petticoat Junction.

I was really getting into the snark of it all...maybe overdoing it, I thought. I went to get a drink of water, which took no more than a few seconds, and when I came back to my seat, most or all of the audience around me had left or was leaving.
Mr. Eddie's Father Was 35, Too

Happy birthday to my brother Chris, who turns 35 today. Old enough now to run for president, so I expect he'll be ready to accept the invitation to be Barack Obama's running mate in 2012.

Chris played a big role in providing tracks for the Music Death Match compilation tapes I've been sending to folks over the past three years, and I'm grateful to him for that. He also has provided a techno-ignoramus like myself with some welcome assistance at designing and editing this here blog. Thanks, bro.

I was only 7 when he was born, but I still remember pretty clearly seeing him for the first time in my parents' bedroom, and all the fun that I and my family had with him when he was little. Time flies, and flime ties.

When I was 35, it was a pretty good year. No blue-blooded girls of independent means riding in limousines (unless Princess Diana counts), but I found myself for the first time in a solid full-time job with full benefits, and in the proverbial American dream of marriage, children and home ownership. Still there were rumblings of trouble ahead: the early romantic bloom of my marriage pretty much left for good in 1997...and the day I turned 35, the infamous Project For The New American Century released its Mission Statement.

Other interesting (if probably meaningless) coincidences:

*When Chris was born, we lived on 42nd Avenue in Portland. My mom was born in 1942, and I later went to high school on 42nd Avenue in Portland.

Over the past couple weeks, I've been digging the audiotape of Douglas Adams reading his classic The Hitchhikers' Guide to the Galaxy. Really looking forward now to the new Hitchhikers movie in April, featuring my wife's Ultimate Man, Alan Rickman, as the voice of Marvin the Paranoid Android.

As Hitchhikers fans know, the answer to life, the universe and everything is...42. And the name of my high school was Adams.

*I live on Ernst Street in a town called Donald. And I lurve cartoons. The producer of Spirited Away, Fantasia 2000 and Aladdin is named Donald W. Ernst.

*Princess Diana's date of birth was 7-1-61. My wife's DOB is 7-1-57. My wife and I married on 4-8-94. Prince Charles and Camilla Parker-Bowles are scheduled to wed on 4-8-05.

*As you might guess, I was struck hard by the scene with Harry Dean Stanton and Emilio Estevez in Repo Man where Stanton's character talks about the "lattice of coincidence that lays on top of everything." Two decades later, one of the phone customers I talk to at the place I work is...Emilio Estevez.

Thursday, February 03, 2005

Feelin' Rundowns

Boy howdy I loves me some internets. Via the almighty Google, I not only found links to summaries of the two Johnny Carson shows I attended in person, but also four of the most memorable Major League Baseball games I've seen live:

The Tonight Show, 9-21-82

The Tonight Show, 9-22-82

Los Angeles Dodgers vs. San Francisco Giants, Dodger Stadium, 8-16-83


Chicago Cubs vs. Pittsburgh Pirates, Wrigley Field, 6-14-88

Seattle Mariners vs. New York Yankees, The Kingdome, 8-19-78

Seattle Mariners vs. Minnesota Twins, Safeco Field, 7-27-01


I'd forgotten that Richard Harris was a guest on one of the Carson shows I saw. (Note edit in my Carson tribute post.) I can now tell my children that I saw "Dumbledore" in person before he was Dumbledore. According to the summary, available at Johnny Carson.com, Harris told Carson he'd been sober just over a year. I vaguely remember this comment now, having been reminded of it.

I've attended 12 MLB games from 1978-2004, and the boxscores from these games are all available for perusal at Baseball Almanac.com. Most of them were Seattle Mariners games -- Seattle being not far up the road from me on I-5, and I lived there from 1989-91. The first Mariners game I saw is linked above, an August 1978 game at The Kingdome with the "Bronx Zoo" New York Yankees of Reggie Jackson and Thurman Munson. The Mariners won the game (Reggie was 0-2 in two at-bats before leaving the lineup), but the Yankees would soon after begin their climb back into contention in the AL East, finally winning the division (en route to winning the pennant and World Series) in a playoff with the Boston Red Sox.

I also linked the first Mariners game I saw at the team's new home, Safeco Field, in July 2001. They were really rolling at that point, en route to a record-breaking 116-win season. The main attraction for the M's that day, as he remains to this day, was Ichiro Suzuki. Ichiro is known primarily as a singles and doubles machine, but during the first Safeco game I saw (an 11-4 win over the Minnesota Twins) he hit a home run in the 8th inning.

The two MLB games I saw away from Seattle were both in the '80s, and both linked above: August 1983 at Dodger Stadium in Los Angeles, and June 1988 at Wrigley Field in Chicago. The game at Chavez Ravine was fairly nondescript, although if you had to pick one Dodger regular-season game to see in your life, you would want it to be against LA's longtime rivals, the Giants. The Dodgers won, the weather and stadium were beautiful, the Dodger Dog was kinda mediocre, and the voice of Vin Scully could be heard on radios throughout the ballpark.

Seeing the boxscore of the Wrigley game in Chicago reminded me that I saw a young outfielder play for the Pirates that day named Barry Bonds. (Probably didn't register much more for me at the time than "Bobby's son," if that.) I also saw 2005 Hall-of-Famer Ryne Sandberg play that day. This was a couple months before the first night game at Wrigley, and many of the light fixtures and poles had already been constructed. I had a wonderful seat at the game, upper deck and right behind home plate, so I really got an ideal panoramic view of the field.

The most recent MLB game I saw was last July, a Mariners game at Safeco versus the Anaheim Angels. (Not linked here, because Baseball Alamanac now charges money for recent boxscores.) A Mariner win, and notable for being the first time I saw a major-league record being set: Angels pitcher Kevin Gregg tying the record for most wild pitches thrown (four) in an inning. I didn't find this out until I was back home watching the highlights of the game on ESPN.