It Wasn't Quite Orwell: Xander's Film Registry, Part IV

*The 1980s*-- One of the weirdest decades. The years that brought us Muppets on Broadway, Indiana Jones against the Nazis, Reagan in the White House (better than Nixon, at any rate), and, of course, Tim Burton. I'd like to take this opportunity to remember John Hughes. Even though none of his films made it onto the list (the list was established quite a while ago anyway), it's important to remember his contribution to Hollywood in the era at hand.

A sidenote: Gandhi almost made it onto this list. But if you have any sense of social responsibility, you'll probably end up watching Gandhi sometime anyway.

Reds (1981)- The Academy chose to give the top honors this particular year to Chariots of Fire. Boo! The music alone should have disqualified it from winning any awards, much like Rocky in '76. But Warren Beatty's biography of American journalist John Reed (who happened to be a socialist) is by far superior. Astoundingly, the movie achieved some level of success in the United States near the height of the Cold War, and the central character is buried in the Kremlin. It's not a reverent film whose goal is to convert people to the Marxist left, but it doesn't exactly blast Reed and his colleagues for their "Red" views. Dramatized scenes about Reed's life are woven together with interviews with Reed's real-life contemporaries, and that's the distinction that makes it a great film. They act as narrators and, as the main titles denote, Witnesses to history, and they were writer/producer/director/star Beatty's method of avoiding boring historical exposition. But they serve another purpose: they make the film, with its at-times over-the-top drama, seem real.

The Final Conflict (1981)- This third (and what should have been the last) chapter in The Omen saga isn't exactly a Godfather or a Ben-Hur. As sequels go, it's not even a Godfather Part II or an Empire Strikes Back. But there is a very specific reason why this film belongs on this list. Warning-- I have to give away the ending. Richard Donner's original Omen set new standards. Damien: Omen II was, well, the No Child Left Behind of the film world, making us sit through an hour and 45 minutes of crap interspersed with mindless scenes of gore. The Final Conflict provides smarter, more accomplished entertainment and builds to what could have been one of the most ridiculous finales in movie history: the killing of the wicked Antichrist by the reborn Jesus. Sam Neill gives a fantastic performance as a grown-up Damien, but the real high point of the film is, expectedly, Jerry Goldsmith's awe-inspiring score, which is strong, fulfilling, and entirely appropriate for each scene. It does a fantastic job in a truly thrilling scene where a group of teary-eyed Catholic priests watch the alignment of stars that signifies the Second Coming. Though it flopped, in a just world, this would be a Godfather II or an Empire.

Poltergeist (1982)- Ah, more horror, this one lighter and rated PG. Twenty-seven years later, they're still heeeeere. And still, this movie remains an enticing and relentlessly entertaining cautionary tale about builders' disrespect for the dead and, of course, letting your child watch TV after sunset. The story of a family tormented by the titular psychokinetic spectres, the Steven Spielberg-produced, Jerry Goldsmith-accompanied experience is something special: a horror movie that can bring families closer together. And kudos to Craig T. Nelson for his performance as the dad. And and a shout-out to the memory of Heather O'Rourke, who played little Carol Anne.

Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan (1982)- I happened to like Star Trek: The Motion Picture... ya know, in an it-may-be-bad-but-it's-still-Star Trek kind of way. But I still have to admit that Nicholas Meyer's darker, less grandiose, and better-acted follow-up is, well, better. The film managed to take the most boring villain in the history of Trek-- the poetic, genetically engineered Khan-- and make him interesting. It introduced us to Kirk's illegitimate son. It introduced us to Kirstie Alley. And most importantly, it showed the world that Star Wars didn't have a monopoly on superior sci-fi sequels (in an era when The Empire Strikes Back was the pinnacle of its genre). Khaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaan! Khaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaan!

Return of the Jedi (1983)- Okay, last minute correction, folks. I couldn't let this list pass by without at least cursorily mentioning the cultural impact of Star Wars. And although it is often lambasted for annoying audiences with Ewoks (three words, people-- Jar Jar Binks!), Return of the Jedi, in my opinion, is equally as good as The Empire Strikes Back. If for nothing else, then the fact that Luke Skywalker has finally stopped whining like a little girl who just got her Barbies taken away. But I also would like to recognize John Williams' score, Alan Hume's cinematography (a close second to Peter Suschitzky's job on Empire), and Richard Marquand's direction. This film proves more conclusively than any other movie that George Lucas belongs not in the director's chair, but in the executive producer's... office?

2010 (1984)- How good could a sequel to 2001: A Space Odyssey be, you ask? Pretty freaking good, I answer. 32 minutes shorter and with at least a good hour more dialogue, the less-cerebral sequel is a great showcase of raw eighties talent-- Roy Scheider, Helen Mirren, and John Lithgow! It also provides a good Cold War message. Of course, in the film, the Cold War would still be going in 2010, but wouldn't that have been sad? It shows the need for people to cooperate and be wary of engaging in conflicts on a world that really doesn't belong to us. And the return of Douglas Rain as the way-too-placid voice of Hal is pure gravy.

Amadeus (1984)- The 70s saw some pretty bad film versions of famous plays. Heck, the 1977 version of A Little Night Music is so allegedly bad that the producers let the prints deteriorate over three decades! Fortunately, the 80s saw them rebound. And what better example than the award-winning translation of Peter Shaffer's smash hit Amadeus? The story of Antonio Salieri and his bitter rivalry with Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, the film actually does something miraculous. Its two main characters have absolutely no likeable traits, and yet, we still watch them battle. Willingly. We still end up kind of rooting for Salieri... until he becomes a cackling mental patient reminiscing about his plot to kill Mozart and steal his music. But the tragic, funny film is either 160 (the theatrical version) or 180 (the richer Director's Cut) minutes of entertainment of a caliber you couldn't get today. The moment you hear that horrible Mozart laugh, you'll know you can't escape. And you won't want to.

Beverly Hills Cop (1984)- Not much to say about this movie, really. But the day I can't see Eddie Murphy going massively, humiliatingly undercover to catch his best friend's killers in Beverly Hills is the day I stop caring about life.

Spaceballs (1987)- After all this time, I still want Spaceballs: The Flamethrower. Mel Brooks' best comedy of the 80s is more than a Star Wars spoof. There are also hints of Planet of the Apes, Alien, and general sci-fi missteps. And Rick Moranis as Dark Helmet? Unforgettable. I even like Joan Rivers in the movie-- of course, it's only her voice. Although the copper-plated fembot she vocalizes looks more real than she ever did. The Schwartz will be with this film through all eternity.

The Abyss (1989)- Sure, James Cameron directed Terminator 2 and Aliens and eventually revoked his license to be taken seriously in Hollywood with the abomination that was Titanic. (Is it me, or does everyone but the Academy despise that movie?) But for a glimpse into his real genius, watch the Special Edition of The Abyss. A film where the aliens don't even show up until there's only like an hour and a half left of the movie (and it's a three-hour movie). A film where Ed Harris gives the performance of a lifetime. And a film that showed us the special loves between a man and his loathed ex-wife, a man and his sub... and a man and his pet rat.

Next time, we don our flannel and start singing "I'll Be There for You" for a recap of the 90s. We'll hear lions roar, Star Trek twice will soar, and Oliver Stone will bore.