When I was young (yes, it’s going
to be one of those introductions), one of the first (maybe even the first) “big boy” bicycles that I had
was a Schwinn Stingray. It had the
banana seat, those sweetly smooth curves, and it was piss yellow (I can only
imagine the good folks at Schwinn calling it “canary yellow” in their corporate
poltroonery, but I knew better). It was bought
used, and I honestly couldn’t even say where it came from; a yard sale, a
friend of the family, wherever. I used
to ride it on my newspaper route (remember when kids had those?), and it could
be as cumbersome as it was helpful depending on the bulk of the papers on a
given day. But usually more
helpful. One time, I skidded and slid
out right up to the tires of an oncoming car (no damage to me from the car nor
to the car from me, but the backs of my thighs had road rash that was legendary
for some time [and you haven’t lived until you’ve tried to peel shorts from the
large scabs to which they have fused]).
Well, one bright, sunshine day, I
went out to mount my wicked steed only to discover it was gone; vanished, as if
it had never been there. While nothing could
be proven, I always suspected that the culprit was a neighborhood malcontent
named Hubble (I don’t remember his first name, nor do I care to), whom we had
nicknamed Hubble Bubble (after Hubba Bubba bubblegum; get it?). Shortly after my Stingray went missing,
Hubble was seen riding around on a black (spray painted?) bike which closely resembled
the shape of mine. Upon confronting him
about this, he denied everything and fled, and I don’t remember seeing him around
much after that. But I eventually got
another bicycle, and life moved on, as it does.
So I totally get where Morgan Hiller (James Spader) is coming from when Nick (Paul Mones) and his dickhead cronies mess with his ten-speed in Fritz Kiersch’s Tuff Turf. Fuck you,
Hubble. Wherever you are.
Morgan is the new kid in town,
and he quickly runs afoul of Nick, his girl Frankie (Kim Richards), and his lackeys while thwarting their attempted armed
robbery of some drunken businessman. Wonder
of wonders, it’s soon discovered that they all attend the same high school, and
even though Morgan makes fast friends with the clearly off-kilter Jimmy (Robert Downey, Jr.), he has an itch
that only Frankie may be able to scratch.
There may be trouble ahead.
Before we get into anything else,
let’s go over what in this film didn’t work for me. To say that a film could use a trim is simple
when you don’t have to do the trimming, and I accept that it can be easier said
than done. But this one could easily
lose a good twenty to thirty minutes and still be a solid film. By that same token, much of what would likely
be cut is actually part of what I enjoyed about this one (which I will get to
shortly). The film also sets up much
more than it actually pays off, and I think that screenwriter Jette Rinck thought that she was being
clever and mysterious with some of these elements (just what exactly did Morgan
get up to at his last school? Why are he
and brother Brian [Bill Beyers] so
at odds?), though they’re little more than throwaways from a possible set of
notes we’re never allowed to glimpse.
The movie’s climax, though it does satisfy, is finifugal and wears out
its welcome by the time it finishes.
Plus, there is a deus ex machina which is completely unheralded and is
rendered by a character I had all but forgotten was even in the film. While these flaws do make the going a little sluggish,
they are not enough (at least for me) to condemn the work on the whole.
This brings me to one of the more
interesting aspects of the film. At its
heart, Tuff Turf is a combination of
1950s and 1980s Juvenile Delinquent films with quasi-Musical components thrown
in for good measure. These JD-by-era
aspects are clearly delineated in the characters and how they behave. The world that Morgan inhabits is reflective
of the pop culture of the Fifties. The
very first words out of Morgan’s mouth are the words to the Gene Vincent hit Be Bop A Lula as he rides through Nick’s gang like a knight
errant. Morgan’s style of dancing is
straight out of a sock hop. He fits the James Dean mold almost perfectly (a
mostly polite boy on the surface with boiling storm of emotion and indecision
roiling underneath this veneer). By
contrast, Nick’s gang is of the Class of
1984 variety. They dress like
Eighties punks of the Hollywood persuasion.
More importantly, they are not merely menacing like teenagers testing
boundaries or doing a little criminal mischief.
They stuff a dead rat in Morgan’s locker. They throw him a pretty harsh towel party in
the gym locker room. These are criminals-in-training,
and it only takes the right confluence of events for this end stage to totally
and violently emerge. The musical
sequences, then, are very choreographed (though they would more accurately be
described as dance numbers, since the characters don’t feel the need to convey
their emotional states in rapturous song while they strut their stuff), and
these are what truly make the film a standout for me (it’s no Footloose, but what can you do?). They are so unexpected, so different from
what I anticipated, I found them instantly charming. Do they fit tonally with the rest of the
film? No, but all of its disparities
together are what sets this movie apart from the crowd.
Although they are only a few in
number, these musical scenes also help to illustrate the major theme of the film,
and it is one of choice (because how the characters engage with these scenes
helps describe them). However, even though
Morgan is clearly of the upper crust and he is our protagonist, it is Frankie
upon whom the major decision of the film rests.
She comes from a lower/working class background, and she feels that this
is all she deserves. When Morgan shows
her his world, she becomes more attracted to it and to him. Morgan mocks those he used to rub elbows
with, and this is both his giving Frankie, Jimmy, and Ronnie (Olivia Barash) entrée into his world
and his distancing of himself from it.
When Frankie sees how the other half live, she changes her appearance to
fit in better, and this is specifically emphasized in two shots. Early on in the film, while still in league
with Nick, there is a closeup of Frankie applying cherry red lipstick. She is trying to stand out, to be recognized. Later, before going to dinner at Morgan’s and
meeting his parents, we get another closeup of her applying lipstick, but this
time it’s a more natural shade. This is
her desire to assimilate, to fit in (and I suppose on some level this could be
considered sad or undesirable, though clearly that’s a matter of perspective on
the part of the viewer). It is the
series of choices that Frankie makes in what she will allow and not allow in
her life which will ultimately define her (as we see in her physical/emotional
relationships with Nick and Morgan). And
while Spader is the headliner and
physical hero of Tuff Turf, it is Richards who embodies the internal
conflicts and gives the film what emotional impact it has.
MVT: Spader or Richards? Richards
or Spader? I’m tempted to give it to both, since I am a
huge fan of Spader, but I think I
have to go with Richards on this
one. She does a hell of a lot with a
part which could easily have been a passive damsel in distress role. She truly goes a long way in elevating this
material. And she can dance.
Make Or Break: The first
dance scene Makes the film, and it sneaks up on the viewer in its unfolding. You’re uncertain of what you’re seeing until
you’re convinced it cannot be anything else.
And that the filmmakers had the stones to do this, and then continue
doing it later, helps the film distinguish itself.
Score: 6.75/10
I only ever had detention once in high school, that I can recall (the actual number may be greater, but that's my story, and I'm sticking to it). The sad part is I genuinely didn't do anything to land there that time (yes, really). You see, I was in Algebra class, seated in the back. Some kid sitting next to me passed a comment about a certain biological process that only women go through with regard to a girl in the class. Meanwhile, I was watching a different kid in front of me doing something stupid and let out a little chuckle. So when the girl complained about this guy's comment (and rightfully so), I was implicated, because I had been smiling when it went down. Of course, the vice principal didn't want to hear any of my explanation, and I spent that Saturday picking up garbage around the school grounds. I guess the vice principal never heard Abraham Lincoln's quote, "I have always found that mercy bears richer fruit than strict justice."
I would wager, when you inquire about non-concert films centered on bands, most people will cite either Kiss Meets The Phantom Of The Park or Can't Stop The Music. Often, they will do this in a groan-tinged voice while lifting their heads up to the heavens, pleading for mercy. The reason is obvious. Musicians, while still entertainers, do not necessarily (and more often than not just don't) make very good actors (Gene Simmons's role in Runaway excepted, of course – "They're loaded with ACID!"). Just watch one of the two films listed above, if you doubt me. That producer Roger Corman decided to change Allan Arkush's film from Disco High to Rock 'n' Roll High School (at the director's behest) and center it ostensibly on one of the progenitors of punk was a wise move, I think (though who wouldn't want to watch Disco High?). It goes without saying, the Ramones were no thespians either, but their attitude helps the film work when they're onscreen. They obviously don't take any of this seriously, and honestly, do you think Lee Mouton would allow himself to be force fed wheat germ and Brussels sprouts? Maybe. But Joey, Johnny, Dee Dee, and Marky are just having a good time, playing their music, and collecting a paycheck, and their performances work for the film.
Like the Ramones' appearance and musical attitude, the film is styled after the "juvenile delinquent movies" of the 1950s (Rebel Set, Bloody Brood, and so forth). However, rather than commit heinous acts of violence in rejection of the rules of society, the teens in Rock 'n' Roll High School rebel through (silly as it sounds) fun. This, then, is the other side of the juvenile delinquency coin, because the kids don't want to destroy, they just want the freedom to do what they want to do, yet their rebellion is still overt. Similar to Footloose a few years later and so many others, it's the uptight (nay, Nazi-esque) bureaucracy that needs to be overcome. And it's the power of music which will do it. Of course, once the revolution starts, there's no stopping it, and anarchy reigns in the hallowed halls of academia. Playing into the wish fulfillment every teenager secretly harbors, Arkush goes down a list of things we all wish we could have/should have done while we were in high school. I mean, who wouldn't want to take a chainsaw to the permanent records we were all threatened with constantly? Who wouldn't want to throw the crappy food served in the cafeteria back at the servers (granted, they were just working with what they were given, but here you get the sense they enjoyed inflicting culinary crimes on students)? 
Teenagers feel "different" (well, many do, at least). Even among their own peers, feelings of being an outsider are prevalent. This is something the Ramones have always reflected. They were unlike anything else in music at the time. They were freaks, and they capitalized on this to the betterment of all the other freaks around the world. That said, since a film solely about the Ramones being in town for a concert (wouldn't it have been interesting to have this film end like the Stones' Altamont concert? Maybe it does on some level) would probably not be enough to sustain itself (it would to me, but I'm weird like that and besides, it would pretty much be a documentary), we have the romantic subplots of Kate and Tom. Some slight sense of tension is attempted with Tom wanting Riff (even trying to tempt her into one of the finest "shaggin' wagons" I have ever seen) and Kate wanting Tom, but it's all a non-issue, really. We know exactly how everything will play out, and that's just fine and dandy, because when the Ramones are playing, we're all having a blast. Gabba gabba hey!
