Tag Archives: Danny Glover

The Rainmaker (Francis Ford Coppola, 1997)

Caught Coppola’s The Rainmaker on TV last night, one of his weaker efforts, visually undistinguished, narratively a mess with that constant annoying voice-over. And yet it’s one of those films I’m drawn to watching over and over again because….isn’t Coppola great with actors? Here Matt Damon and Claire Danes, so delicate and true, and now seeming so young. Danny Devito playing up to his persona and being funny with it. But it’s in all the supporting cast that we see how Coppola brings out the best in actors: Jon Voight as a rich, slick, charming sell-out; Roy Scheider in a tiny role, making an impression and delighting with the way he elongates his lines, picks his pauses; Mary Kay Place, unrecognisable and moving as the mother; Teresa Wright as Damon’s landlady offering her warmth, depth and range in her last film role. And this is not even mentioning others with bigger roles (a still recognisable Mickey Rourke, Danny Glover as the judge, Virginia Madsen as a lovely bruised blonde with big hurt eyes) or those in tiny roles (Dean Stockwell as the corrupt judge at the beginning is so great with a few lines; and Randy Travis as the juror who jumps out of the jury box to assault the lawyer). I’m sure I’m forgetting some of them. But what a great cast, all judiciously cast and at their very best. For Coppola.

José Arroyo

Eavesdropping at the Movies: 117 – Sorry to Bother You

A surprising, imaginative comedy full of dark twists and scathing observations, Sorry to Bother Youfires us up. There’s so much going on in it that we love. It builds a forceful critique of modern capitalism, drawing on black stereotypes, animal imagery, and factory cities to develop a thesis of 21st century capitalism as thinly veiled slave labour. Everything is available for commodification and absorption by the establishment; the system is able to tolerate dissent by co-opting it. But there is a vital resistance movement, embodied exceptionally by the coruscating Tessa Thompson, and though the film depicts a deeply unfair world in which power is entrenched, there is plenty of room for hope and joy, even through something as simple as a sigh when confronted with the latest absurdity.

The film is a kaleidoscope of ideas, always on its toes, always unpredictable, absolutely restless, and although we feel it lacks a certain visual finesse and overall coherence, the benefits of its madnesses far outweigh their costs.

Hugely recommended.

The podcast can be listened to in the players above or on iTunes.

With José Arroyo of First Impressions and Michael Glass of Writing About Film.