Bob Hoskins actually was quite effective in Super Mario Bros. But the movie itself, well...

Even some of the most respectful obits for the late, great Bob Hoskins -- who passed away Tuesday at age 71 -- contain snarky remarks about Super Mario Bros., which Hoskins himself once described as "the worst thing I ever did." So I felt compelled to dig up my original  May 29, 1993 review of the infamous box-office bust, since I honestly didn't remember it as being that bad.  And sure enough, I didn't write what I would describe as a scorched-earth pan. But... well, it wasn't a full-throated roar of approval, either.


If you loved them them on Nintendo systems and in video arcades, you may like Super Mario Bros. on the big screen. Indeed, the best audience for this chaotic and cacophonous whirligig of a movie would be video-game aces who don't need such cinematic niceties as plot and character development to have a good time.

But for those who prefer more conventional forms of entertainment, and especially for those who are baffled by any video game more complicated than Pac-Man, Super Mario Bros. may be more problematic.

The movie, which opened Friday without benefit of press previews, is aggressively dazzling with its lavish sets and computer-generated effects. And the casting of the title characters -- Mario and Luigi Mario, those dimension-hopping plumbers from the wilds of Brooklyn -- is dead-solid perfect. With the pugnacious Bob Hoskins as Mario, a blunt-spoken pragmatist, and the soulful John Leguizamo as Luigi, a dreamy-eyed innocent, the filmmakers have actors who are strong enough to be persuasive as straight-faced heroes, and engaging enough to keep from being upstaged by the neon-lit scenery.

As a whole, however, Super Mario Bros. has the feel of something that has been cobbled together with equal measures of inspiration and desperation. The movie appears at once expensive and slapdash, indicating that co-directors Rocky Morton and Annabel Jankel (creators of Max Headroom) didn't have a clear idea what they wanted to do before shooting began. Worse, it looks like they had second thoughts during filming, and third thoughts during the editing process, without ever finding a way to discipline their clever ideas with a coherent narrative. As a result, Super Mario Bros. doesn't tell a story so much as present a series of loosely linked episodes -- some quite funny, others mildly exciting, still others totally lost in the ozone. Sort of like a video game.

The screenplay by Parker Bennett, Terry Runte and Ed Solomon is a ''prequel'' to the video game, showing how Mario and Luigi evolved from hard-working plumbers to Nintendo-ready warriors. They follow a kidnapped paleontologist (Samantha Mathis) through a transdimensional portal, and wind up in a parallel world where man evolved from dinosaurs, not apes. The ruler of the reptiles is King Koopa (Dennis Hopper), a wavy-haired wacko who knows the paleontologist really is a princess, and her medallion really is a key that can merge the parallel worlds. Or something like that.

The Koopa kingdom is an amusingly tacky version of the futuristic urban wasteland of Blade Runner. Chief among its inhabitants are Goombas, half-breeds with the faces of reptiles, the bodies of Cossacks -- and, thanks to Luigi's instructions, the grace of ballroom dancers. Hopper rants and raves as Koopa, but even he can't upstage waltzing dinosaurs. As Lena, his partner in wickedness, the bosomy Fiona Shaw spends most of the movie with a naughty smile on her face. Clearly, she knows what boys like once they outgrow video games.

Compliments to the Chef

First, I give Jon Favreau's Chef a thumb's-up review at SXSW. Then, said review is blurbed in a widely disseminated trailer for the movie. Yesterday, David Carr of The New York Times gets on the bandwagon. Today, Jeff Wells complains that, so far, the meanies at Open Road haven't yet screened Chef for him. And now, tonight at the Tribeca Film Festival, Chef is announced as winner of the Heineken Audience Award. Coincidence? I don't think so.

A message for Donald Sterling from Mr. Snoop Dogg

Funnily enough, this reminds me of Ice-T's legendary introduction to the classic movie Urban Menace.

Stone Cold Steve Austin: "Which one of these motherfuckers talked to God, and God said same-sex marriage was a no-can-do?"

Hey, if it's cool with Stone Cold Steve Austin, that settles it. That's the bottom line... because Stone Cold says so. In fact, I'm sure Jodie Foster herself took these words of wisdom to heart.

Trailer Park: Chef

As I noted in my Variety review: Chef is "a lightweight but high-calorie confection in which the actors often run the risk of being upstaged by all manner of scrumptious-looking cuisine. Written and directed by Jon Favreau, who also stars as a professionally frustrated chef who earns a second helping of happiness while operating a food truck, this amiably rambling dramedy will play best with audiences primed to go with the flow of its leisurely pacing while enjoying the cross-country ride. And, of course, savoring the views of that tempting grub." I also said it's "extremely funny" -- which presumably is why I got quoted in the new trailer. Not that such things matter to me, you understand.

By the way: My quote appears around the 1:38 point.

R.I.P. Mickey Rooney (1920-2014)

In the wake of Mickey Rooney's death Sunday at age 93, much will be written -- and should be written -- about his glory days at MGM, his multiple co-star pairings with Judy Garland, and his lengthy run in the once-popular Andy Hardy franchise. But, truth to tell, I will continue to remember Rooney best for two of his finest achievements as a character actor: His brutally effective turn as the title character in Don Siegel's gritty gangster biopic Baby Face Nelson (1957), and his hilarious portrayal of a pompous retired movie star who makes the wrong people nervous when he announces plans to pen a tell-all autobiography with the help of a ghost writer (Michael Caine) in Mike Hodges' comedy-drama Pulp (1972).

Trailer Park: Scarlett Johansson in Lucy

I must admit: This looks like something I've seen before. Actually, quite a few times before. But with Scarlett Johansson doing another variation of her badass Black Widow thing, and Luc Besson in the director's chair... Well, as Robert Mitchum used to say: If it's a hot night, and the theater's air-conditioned, what the hell?

SXSW: Robert Duvall and A Night in Old Mexico

I'm really, really glad I liked A Night in Old Mexico, the engaging comedy-drama that had its North American premiere Monday at SXSW. And not just because the picture -- a Tex-Mex-flavored shaggy-dog story with a touch of Elmore Leonard to its twisty plot -- is a worthy star vehicle for the great Robert Duvall. Another good reason for my being happy: I was committed to doing an interview with Duvall for Cowboys & Indians magazine during the festival.

Granted, I chatted with the Oscar-winning screen icon a day before my Variety review appeared on line, at a time when, theoretically, he would not have known what I thought about his movie. And maybe, had I not found it up to snuff, I could have lied if he'd asked me point blank for my appraisal.

But here's the thing: I don't think it's possible to lie to this guy. As I have noted during previous encounters: He looks you right in the eye, and expects you to tell him the truth. And so you do. And if I had disliked A Night in Old Mexico -- that would have made for a very awkward interview. Indeed, I probably would have wimped out and called in sick or something. Look, it was very cold and rainy here in Austin last Saturday evening. I'm pretty sure I could have pulled it off if I'd picked up the phone Sunday morning and, while faking a coughing jag, told the publicist: "Gosh, I'm sorry, but I sure don't want Mr. Duvall to catch what I have..."

I can think of three or four times over the years when I actually have canceled interviews with actors or directors at film festivals after I saw their movies, and found them wanting. No, I'm not naming any names. But I will say this: In one case, the publicist practically begged me to reconsider -- because several other journalists had canceled their interviews with the director as well. I said I was sorry, but I was so sour on the director's movie that I feared I could not remain polite during any conversation I might have with this obviously untalented poseur.

That director went on to earn an Academy Award nomination, and win quite a few other prizes, for directing one of my favorite films. Go figure.

By the way: While standing in line for great barbecue this evening with some fellow Variety writers at Iron Works BBQ, I struck up a conversation with a young woman who's also attending SXSW this week. When she asked if I'd done anything exciting so far, I told her I'd interviewed Robert Duvall. Her reply: "Who's that?" I rattled off the titles of six or seven movies before she was able to connect the name with a face. And even then, she wasn't entirely sure she remembered "the napalm guy" from Apocalypse Now all that clearly. Oh, dear...   

SXSW: Two reasons why I enjoyed Chef

It features a lengthy sequence set in my beloved hometown of New Orleans -- including a visit to Cafe du Monde -- and a brief musical performance by Gary Clark Jr. But, really, those aren't the only reasons why I enjoyed Chef, this year's opening-night film at SXSW. You can read my Variety review here.

Ready for some reeling at SXSW 2014

I'm locked and loaded in Austin, ready for tonight's kickoff of the South By Southwest Film Conference and Festival -- a.k.a. SXSW Film, or just plain SXSW. And as you can see in this CultureMap piece, I have already scoped out some titles I want to see. So, OK, when do the parties start?

Matthew McConaughey's victory dance (and other Oscarcast highlights)

Matthew McConaughey dances. Bill Murray snarks. And Ellen DeGeneres serves pizza. Read all about it here.

Movie 43 gets the Raspberry

This just in: Movie 43 was the big winner... er, the big loser... well, it received the prize for Worst Picture of 2013 during Saturday's presentation of the 34th annual Golden Raspberry Awards (a.k.a. The Razzies). What a surprise. Not.

Lonesome Dove: 25 years later

As I have previously noted: In my other life, I am a cowboy. Specifically, a contributing editor for Cowboys & Indians, The Premier Magazine of the West. And I must admit: Some contributions are more fun to contribute than others.

To celebrate the 25th anniversary of the classic Lonesome Dove miniseries, I recently interviewed Australian filmmaker Simon Wincer, a droll raconteur who shared all sorts of colorful stories about directing the epic adaptation of the Pulitzer Prize-winning Larry McMurty novel.

But wait, there's more: I also got to write about Lonesome Dove co-stars Robert Duvall and Rick Schroeder (pictured above). And... well, I finally got a good excuse to rip the shrink-wrap off the long-on-my-shelf Blu-Ray of Lonesome Dove, and savor the miniseries in widescreen splendor on my high-def Vizio TV. Life is good.

I Heart Nashville Film Festival

I have had lots of fun over the years at the Nashville Film Festival, hanging with folks like Nicole Kidman, Famke Janssen, Hal Holbrook, Kris Kristofferson and Lyle Lovett. And now I'm spreading the good word about the event in Cowboys & Indians. 

Flashback: 'Blood in the Face'

Back in 1991, when Blood in the Face -- the powerful documentary now available on YouTube -- had its H-Town premiere at the Rice University Media Center, I wrote this:

Early in the remarkable documentary Blood in the Face, one of the interview subjects calmly explains his game plan for a better, more wholesome, less mongrelized America: ''Basically, shooting on sight everyone we think isn't white.''

But the cleanup campaign won't stop there. No, not by a long shot. After the non-whites, the non-Christians will be the next to go. And, mind you, most of the people interviewed in Blood in the Face have established very rigorous criteria to decide just who is and who isn't a Christian.

''We would define Jerry Falwell as a Jew,'' says one disarmingly calm but stern-faced knight in shining polyester, ''because he believes in Israel.'' 

Welcome to America's dark side, where racists, Nazis, ultra-rightists and paranoid paramilitarists give full vent to their hateful rantings. Filmmakers Anne Bohlen, Kevin Rafferty and James Ridgeway spent a good portion of the late 1980s with their cameras and microphones trained on the ominous growth of radical-right organizations in America. Blood in the Face is the distillation of their extensive research and often chilling interviews. The film does not pass judgment, does not take sides. Rather, it allows its subjects to speak for themselves, to reveal the full scope of their xenophobic fury through their own words. 

 Blood in the Face sounds like the title of a horror movie, which it is. But here, the monsters wear sheets and swastikas. And, unfortunately, they don't disappear at dawn's first light.

As you watch this extraordinary film, I invite you to consider: How do you think some of the folks interviewed by the filmmakers reacted to the 2008 and 2012 Presidential elections? Who do you think they are campaigning for these days?

And most important: How effectively are they now spreading their message with the Internet? 

You can read my complete 1991 review here. 

Oscar nominees: Follow Jeremy Irons' example of classy, low-key campaigning

I remember laughing like a besotted hyena when I watched this a couple nights before he brought home the gold for Reversal of Fortune. (Hat-tip to JeremyIrons.com.) Prepare to guffaw at the 2:20 mark.

About Last Night -- NSFW PSA

I am really, really, really glad I actually looked at this faux public service announcement -- which is funny as hell -- before I showed it to my Broadcast and Film Writing students as a teaching-tool example of a PSA.

The Monuments Men is a worthy effort -- but was it inspired by The Victors?

According to the latest aggregation of opinions on Rotten Tomatoes, George Clooney’s The Monuments Men hasn’t fared very well with most of my critical brethren. But I find myself inclined to give it an appreciative thumb’s up, if not a full-throated roar of approval. And not just because, as a minor-league history buff, I am reflexively fascinated by accounts of efforts to retrieve art masterpieces plundered by Adolf Hitler’s minions during World War II.

DMX to George Zimmerman: Die, motherfucker, die!

Does George Zimmerman really know what he's getting into when he gets in the ring with DMX? Maybe he should pay closer attention to the tune DMX and Eminem recorded for Cradle 2 the Grave.

Or maybe he shouldn't.

Yeah, that's right George: Go ahead and fight the guy. Then go to sleep...

Coming soon to a theater near you: Life Itself, starring Roger Ebert

The good news about Life Itself comes to us from a Magnolia Pictures press release:

New York, NY (February 4, 2014) – The Wagner/Cuban Company's Magnolia Pictures announced today that they have acquired US theatrical, VOD and home entertainment rights to Life Itself, a documentary about the life of Roger Ebert directed by Oscar-nominated documentary filmmaker Steve James (Hoop Dreams, The Interrupters). A Kartemquin Films and Film Rites production in association with KatLei Productions, Life Itself premiered to critical acclaim at this year's Sundance Film Festival. Magnolia is eyeing a summer release, followed by an exclusive broadcast on CNN later this year, reprising a successful collaboration with CNN Films on the hit documentary Blackfish. 

Roger Ebert was a beloved national figure and arguably our best-known and most influential movie critic, and his passing in 2013 was deeply felt across the country. Based on his memoir of the same name, Life Itself recounts his fascinating and flawed journey — from politicized school newspaperman, to Chicago Sun-Times movie critic, to Pulitzer Prize winner, to television household name, to the miracle of finding love at 50, and finally his "third act" as a major voice on the Internet when he could no longer physically speak.

"Roger Ebert gets the tribute he deserves with Life Itself," said Magnolia President Eamonn Bowles. "Steve James has done a beautiful job capturing Rogers complexity and energy in a loving but wonderfully clear-eyed portrait."

"Magnolia is the perfect partner for bringing this film on such a seminal figure in film to the big screen," said Steve James. "Roger's story deserves it."

My only worry: Since Mark Cuban, owner of Magnolia, also own the Dallas Mavericks -- does that mean I now have to root for the Mavs even when they play against my beloved Houston Rockets? I mean, I loved Roger and everything, but damn...