How could she leave us with this lunatic?

Seinfeld

2.5: The Jacket

The Premise

Jerry buys an expensive suede jacket with a pink and white striped lining. He wears it to a dinner date with Elaine’s intimidating father.

Observational

It’s a shame that, in the words of Jason Alexander, Lawrence Tierney was a “total nut job”, as his disposition put paid to any future appearances of Elaine’s father. His portrayal of Alton Benes is palpably menacing and, because he plays it dead straight, he ensures the laughs elicited from George and Jerry’s terrified predicament are even greater.

Not that it sounds as if Tierney could have played it for laughs if he’d wanted to. A renowned bruiser, he was known for his confrontational attitude; he caused young Quentin Tarantino problems on the set of the following year’s Reservoir Dogs. On Seinfeld he reportedly stole a butcher’s knife from the kitchen set, but returned it after Jerry (inadvisably perhaps) confronted him over he was concealing upon his person.

Alton Benes is a force of bristling masculine aggression, so naturally he and George get on like a house on fire. George’s “staunch heterosexuality” is under scrutiny as soon as he comes on singing “Master of the House” from Les Miserables(“Pipe down, chorus boy,” instructs Alton). He’s earlier informed Jerry his jacket is “fabulous” (Elaine: Dad thinks George is gay). When Alton dismisses his recent novel (“Drivel!”), George just makes matters worse by agreeing with everything he says (“Maybe some parts”). With Elaine failing to show, George and Jerry take shelter in the men’s room (“How could she leave us with this lunatic?”) and when she does eventually arrive they’re beyond desperate (“We’re dying here!”) Alton is even looking to pick a fight over the choice of restaurant (“You’re not afraid of a little spice, are you?”)

This episode may be more linear than the previous two (you couldn’t really call the jacket a separate plot strand since Jerry is a constant in both), but structurally it’s very satisfying and the resolution is perfectly formed (gruff Alton refuses to be seen with Jerry wearing his jacket stripy lining out, so the suede is ruined in a snow shower). This is very much Jerry and George’s show, though. Elaine gets a great entrance, showing off her physical dexterity as she recounts Kramer’s offer of a lift (and stealing away Jerry’s urge to recount the traumas theyhave suffered), but she barely says a word to her father.

Kramer, always on the look out for something for nothing, ends up with both Jerry’s old leather jacketand his ruined suede one (“I’m going to do something about this lining”).

We’re also treated to an early classic coda, as Alton drives home and finds himself involuntarily singing “Master of the House” (as George notes earlier, “It just comes out. I have no control over it”).

Quotable

Jerry: Frankly, I prefer the company of nitwits.

Elaine: So that’s why we’re not together any more.

Kramer: That’s more you than you’ve ever been.

George: What am I, Bud Abbot? What did you call me idiot for?

Alton Benes: I don’t need anybody to tell me it’s going to rain.

Alton Benes: We had a funny guy with us in Korea. A tail gunner. They blew his brains out all over the Pacific. There’s nothing funny about that.

Verdict:

Comments

She writes Twilight fan fiction.

Vampire Academy (2014)
My willingness to give writer Daniel Waters some slack on the grounds of early glories sometimes pays off (Sex and Death 101) and sometimes, as with this messy and indistinct Young Adult adaptation, it doesn’t. If Vampire Academy plods along as a less than innovative smart-mouthed Buffy rip-off that might be because, if you added vampires to Heathers, you would probably get something not so far from the world of Joss Whedon. Unfortunately inspiration is a low ebb throughout, not helped any by tepid direction from Daniel’s sometimes-reliable brother Mark and a couple of hopelessly plankish leads who do their best to dampen down any wit that occasionally attempts to surface.

I can only presume there’s a never-ending pile of Young Adult fiction poised for big screen failure, all of it comprising multi-novel storylines just begging for a moment in the Sun. Every time an adaptation crashes and burns (and the odds are that they will) another one rises, hydra-like, hoping…

Our very strength incites challenge. Challenge incites conflict. And conflict... breeds catastrophe.

The MCU Ranked Worst to Best

Why would I turn into a filing cabinet?

Captain Marvel (2019)
(SPOILERS) All superhero movies are formulaic to a greater or lesser degree. Mostly greater. The key to an actually great one – or just a pretty good one – is making that a virtue, rather than something you’re conscious of limiting the whole exercise. The irony of the last two stand-alone MCU pictures is that, while attempting to bring somewhat down-the-line progressive cachet to the series, they’ve delivered rather pedestrian results. Of course, that didn’t dim Black Panther’s cultural cachet (and what do I know, swathes of people also profess to loving it), and Captain Marvel has hit half a billion in its first few days – it seems that, unless you’re poor unloved Ant-Man, an easy $1bn is the new $700m for the MCU – but neither’s protagonist really made that all-important iconic impact.

My name is Dr. King Schultz, this is my valet, Django, and these are our horses, Fritz, and Tony.

Django Unchained (2012)
(MINOR SPOILERS) Since the painful misstep of Grindhouse/Death Proof, Quentin Tarantino has regained the higher ground like never before. Pulp Fiction, his previous commercial and critical peak, has been at very least equalled by the back-to-back hits of Inglourious Basterds and Django Unchained. Having been underwhelmed by his post Pulp Fiction efforts (albeit, I admired his technical advances as a director in Kill Bill), I was pleasantly surprised by Inglourious Basterds. It was no work of genius (so not Pulp Fiction) by any means, but there was a gleeful irreverence in its treatment of history and even to the nominal heroic status of its titular protagonists. Tonally, it was a good fit for the director’s “cool” aesthetic. As a purveyor of postmodern pastiche, where the surface level is the subtext, in some ways he was operating at his zenith. Django Unchained is a retreat from that position, the director caught in the tug between his all-important aesthetic pr…

Stupid adult hands!

Shazam! (2019)
(SPOILERS) Shazam! is exactly the kind of movie I hoped it would be, funny, scary (for kids, at least), smart and delightfully dumb… until the final act. What takes place there isn’t a complete bummer, but right now, it does pretty much kill any interest I have in a sequel.

I have discovered the great ray that first brought life into the world.

Frankenstein (1931)
(SPOILERS) To what extent do Universal’s horror classics deserved to be labelled classics? They’re from the classical Hollywood period, certainly, but they aren’t unassailable titans that can’t be bettered – well unless you were Alex Kurtzman and Chris Morgan trying to fashion a Dark Universe with zero ingenuity. And except maybe for the sequel to the second feature in their lexicon. Frankenstein is revered for several classic scenes, boasts two mesmerising performances, and looks terrific thanks to Arthur Edeson’s cinematography, but there’s also sizeable streak of stodginess within its seventy minutes.

Can you float through the air when you smell a delicious pie?

Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse (2018)
(SPOILERS) Ironically, given the source material, think I probably fell into the category of many who weren't overly disposed to give this big screen Spider-Man a go on the grounds that it was an animation. After all, if it wasn’t "good enough" for live-action, why should I give it my time? Not even Phil Lord and Christopher Miller's pedigree wholly persuaded me; they'd had their stumble of late, although admittedly in that live-action arena. As such, it was only the near-unanimous critics' approval that swayed me, suggesting I'd have been missing out. They – not always the most reliable arbiters of such populist fare, which made the vote of confidence all the more notable – were right. Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse is not only a first-rate Spider-Man movie, it's a fresh, playful and (perhaps) surprisingly heartfelt origins story.

Only an idiot sees the simple beauty of life.

Forrest Gump (1994)
(SPOILERS) There was a time when I’d have made a case for, if not greatness, then Forrest Gump’s unjust dismissal from conversations regarding its merits. To an extent, I still would. Just not nearly so fervently. There’s simply too much going on in the picture to conclude that the manner in which it has generally been received is the end of the story. Tarantino, magnanimous in the face of Oscar defeat, wasn’t entirely wrong when he suggested to Robert Zemeckis that his was a, effectively, subversive movie. Its problem, however, is that it wants to have its cake and eat it.

Do not mention the Tiptoe Man ever again.

Glass (2019)
(SPOILERS) If nothing else, one has to admire M Night Shyamalan’s willingness to plough ahead regardless with his straight-faced storytelling, taking him into areas that encourage outright rejection or merciless ridicule, with all the concomitant charges of hubris. Reactions to Glass have been mixed at best, but mostly more characteristic of the period he plummeted from his must-see, twist-master pedestal (during the period of The Village and The Happening), which is to say quite scornful. And yet, this is very clearly the story he wanted to tell, so if he undercuts audience expectations and leaves them dissatisfied, it’s most definitely not a result of miscalculation on his part. For my part, while I’d been prepared for a disappointment on the basis of the critical response, I came away very much enjoying the movie, by and large.

Rejoice! The broken are the more evolved. Rejoice.

Split (2016)
(SPOILERS) M Night Shyamalan went from the toast of twist-based filmmaking to a one-trick pony to the object of abject ridicule in the space of only a couple of pictures: quite a feat. Along the way, I’ve managed to miss several of his pictures, including his last, The Visit, regarded as something of a re-locating of his footing in the low budget horror arena. Split continues that genre readjustment, another Blumhouse production, one that also manages to bridge the gap with the fare that made him famous. But it’s a thematically uneasy film, marrying shlock and serious subject matter in ways that don’t always quite gel.

Shyamalan has seized on a horror staple – nubile teenage girls in peril, prey to a psychotic antagonist – and, no doubt with the best intentions, attempted to warp it. But, in so doing, he has dragged in themes and threads from other, more meritable fare, with the consequence that, in the end, the conflicting positions rather subvert his attempts at subversion…

Now In Full Color, with a Happier Ending

Search This Blog