Guilty pleasures Part 6: Peggy Sue Got Married

Welcome to the sixth installment of my Guilty Pleasures series. I don't know if you happened to catch posts 1, 2, 3, 4, or 5. But if not, now's the perfect time to hop on board. Go ahead and read them. I'll wait.

Done? Okay. Good. Let's light this candle.

As an only child of older Jewish parents, a blog series called Guilty Pleasures could apply to a wide variety of things. Anything from a grilled ham and cheese sandwich to a Phillip Roth novel. But this series is about movies.

And the movie this post is about is Peggy Sue Got Married.

It's the story of a girl named Peggy Sue who goes back in time to when she was in high school. She gets the chance to map out a different course for her life, speak to long-departed relatives and change the future for people she likes. For example, she advises one friend, the nerdy Richard Norvik played by Barry Miller, to buy Apple stock in the future (later on in the movie, Richard is the one friend she confides to about her time travel).

Nic Cage plays her husband Charlie, and he's also the reason many people hated the movie. One acting choice he made was to play the character in a really high, nasally, whiny voice. Like Chandler's girlfriend on Friends except without the accent. Another was to wear fake teeth that were gigantic and white like Mr. Ed's.

In high school, Charlie has dreams of being a singer like Dion, even auditioning for a musical agent without telling anyone. But since Peggy comes from the future, she knows his destiny is to be the "Crazy Eddie" of his time, famous not for his singing but for his loud, corny and sad television commercials.

While back in time, Peggy meets Michael Fitzsimmons, played by Kevin J. O'Connor, a kind of beat poet character who represents all the wildness and freedom her life hasn't given her. But during her time in the past, even though there are problems, she remembers what it first was about Charlie that made her fall in love with him.

The premise of the movie - going back - is something I'm strongly drawn to. There's a point in the film where Peggy answers a phone, and it's her grandmother. It takes her breath away, because her grandma has been gone for years. It resonates (apologies for using a marketing word) strongly with me. It's not hard to figure out why. There are a lot of people - my parents, my grandparents and too many friends - that I'd give anything to talk to one more time.

Whether it's a film called Creator with Peter O'Toole where he played a college professor trying to clone his departed wife, or the departed Jor-el telling Superman what he'll mean to the people of Earth, the idea of going back, having one more chance to say what needs to be said, is a powerful one for me.

If you look closely, you'll see Peggy Sue Got Married also has more than a few recognizable faces in supporting roles, including Jim Carrey, Catherine Hicks, Joan Allen, Maureen O' Sullivan, Helen Hunt, Marshall Crenshaw and Sofia Coppola.

The movie was directed by Francis Ford Coppola long after The Godfather, Rumble Fish and The Conversation. It's fair to say Peggy Sue Got Married is considered one of his most inconsequential efforts.

Unless you've ever had a dream, lost a loved one or wanted a second chance.

In the midnight hour

There was a time, back in the day, when midnight shows were special. Not just the time slot, but the films themselves. It was the witching hour, a twilight time reserved for something you couldn't get during the day. Something that would scare you. Make you think. Make you laugh. Or, in the case of Pink Flamingos, completely gross you out.

Long before the word interactive applied to a screen, it applied to a bigger screen. The midnight showings of The Rocky Horror Picture Show were the first genuine interactive movie theater experience.

People would come to the theater dressed in costume, yell back lines at the screen and act out scenes in the aisles. During the wedding scene, the audience threw rice at the screen. When they proposed a toast, the audience threw toast. During the storm, they sprayed water in the theater.

If you've never seen the movie, it stars a very young Barry Bostwick and Susan Sarandon. Tim Curry, in the role that made him, plays Dr. Frank N. Furter. He's the one in fishnets.

Sadly, today the studios have turned the midnight show into a money-making time slot the night before the official opening of a movie. Any and every movie. It bumps up the box office, and lets them brag about it in bigger type Monday morning.

But if you can find a midnight show of Rocky Horror - and there are still a few - it's an interactive experience you'll never forget.

And if you don't know the Time Warp, it's just a jump to the left, and then a step to the r-i-i-i-i-ght.

Tread lightly

Is it wrong to love a tire?

Here's the thing. I used to drive a performance car. In fact, I've written about it here before. If I may quote myself, and really, who's going to stop me:

"I used to drive an Audi A6. Of all the cars I've owned, it was my favorite (my least favorite was my first - a 1965 Plymouth Fury, don't get me started). I'd get behind the wheel of my A6 and hit the curved freeway onramp by my house at 70 mph. It stuck like glue. After all, it was a car built for the autobahn. I’ve since tried it with my Lexus ES350. Come to find out it's not exactly the same experience."

Well, after I pulled the onramp stunt with the Lexus, I decided when the time came to replace the Bridgestones that came with the car - and it couldn't come fast enough - I was going to get performance tires and see if it made any difference on a car built for luxury.

SPOILER ALERT: The answer is "Hell yeah!"

When the Bridgestones finally wore down, I went to America's Tire Store for replacements thinking I'd get something like the sporty Michelins. I'd never really considered Yoko's because they were expensive, low profile, the tread wore fast, yada yada yada. But then the tire guy helping me said the magic word: Grip.

From that point on, money was no object. I can't remember which model Yoko's I got, but he wasn't lying.

The minute the car was done, even on the slow roll out of the parking lot I could feel the difference. When I hit that onramp again at 70mph - and if my kids are reading this you should never, ever do that - it was amazing. Like I was Krazy glued to the road.

After that Lexus was totaled (read all about it), I got another one. And I once again find myself playing a waiting game until the tires wear down, or until I have a few hundred to spare for new Yoko's.

I've always liked tire stores. I love the smell of new tires, the pressurized air, the way you can bounce and roll the tires from one end of the shop to the other. I am easily entertained.

I've discovered that, besides new wiper blades, tires are the cheapest investment you can make in your car that offer the most tangible difference.

I was going to end this post with "something something, because that's how I roll."

But I think we both know I'm better than that.

Hoskins in Hollywoodland

A great, great actor died yesterday. Bob Hoskins was 71, and he leaves us one remarkable performance after another. It's hard to know where to start - Roger Rabbit, The Long Good Friday, Brazil, Nixon - when you talk about his films.

To me, like Phillip Seymour Hoffman, Hoskins was similar to Gene Hackman in the sense that he was brilliant no matter how good or bad the film. His was the performance you looked forward to.

One that sadly not a lot of people saw was in a small film called Hollywoodland (originally called Truth, Justice and the American Way). It was about the suicide and alleged murder of George Reeves (Ben Affleck) who played Superman on the television series. Hoskins played Eddie Mannix, a studio executive whose wife (Diane Lane) had a years-long affair with Reeves. It is by turns a frightening, tender, poignant and powerful performance.

And never anything less than riveting.

I'm really going to miss Bob Hoskins. I wish there were some way I could thank him for the honor of watching him work, and the joy he's brought me over the years.

Maybe the best way is to keep watching his movies and enjoying them.

Wrapper wisdom

As many of you know, and as I've written about here, I've been battling the cough from hell for about three weeks now. In that time, I've consumed my fair share of Chestal homeopathic (not that there's anything wrong with that) cough syrup, prescription hydrocodone cough syrup, hot tea, cups of lemon and honey, and bags and bags of Hall's Cough Drops.

Now, the cough drops are supposed to sooth the cough. But upon closer examination, they actually do so much more.

While I've been hacking up a lung, I've had time to read the inspirational messages found on each Hall's wrapper. They're so proud of the good these messages are doing, they've printed "A PEP TALK IN EVERY DROP™" right there on the wrapper. And yes, they trademarked the line.

Now, if you happened to catch this post, you know I've always been one who believes that inspiration is where you find it. But after reading the lines on the Hall's wrapper, I may have to re-evaluate that opinion.

In addition to the lines shown here, additional lines like "Turn 'can do' into can did!'", "Hi-five yourself.", and the ever popular, "Don't wait to get started." are also waiting to inspire the sick and hacking masses.

Somewhere a fortune cookie company is laughing and saying things like, "Damn, we're a lot better than I thought!"

The truly scary thing to me about these lines is that I know a copywriter wrote them. Either a $25 an hr. junior writer they found on Creative Circle, or, even sadder, a $25 an hr. ex-group creative director who couldn't get hired at McCann an is willing to write cough drop wrappers. It's a cautionary tale either way.

I think I've probably seen all the lines I need to see from Hall's.

It's time to stop being so inspired, and start thinking deeper thoughts.

It's a great idea after all

Have you had the unshakable feeling that today wasn't just an ordinary day? It was different wasn't it. And if you live in Southern California or Orlando, the suspicion was even more intense. The idea kept running through your head, like an annoying song you just couldn't shake no matter how hard you tried, that today was unlike every other day.

Here's the reason. Today is the 50th anniversary of It's A Small World at Disneyland.

The ride was introduced in 1964, and, to quote Wikipedia, "The ride features over 300 brightly costumed audio-animatronic dolls in the style of children of the world, frolicking in a spirit of international unity and singing the attraction's title song, which has a theme of global peace."

Sure, whatever.

The point I'm making is that after half a century, I think it's time to update this iconic Disney attraction, with its unforgettable yet masterfully irritating theme song into something adults can enjoy just as much as the kids. And I know exactly how to do it.

Shotgun Small World. Here's how it works.

Every adult who gets on the boat gets handed a pair of noise-cancelling headphones and a sawed-off 12-gauge when they board. Of course, these aren't real weapons. They will have been made by Disney Imagineering, which means they'll look and feel real, but they'll have a Disney logo on them and replicas will be available in the gift shop.

Then, as the riders cruise through, they get points for each one of the dolls they take out (extra points if you can waste them before the start of the second verse).

Now, I know this sounds shocking at first. But at second, it sounds fun doesn't it?

Besides, it's Disneyland. The dolls will just reanimate in time for the next boatload of tired parents with really good aim.

I'm just spitballing here, but if Imagineering's too busy creating the next ride, like Frozen Mountain or whatever, maybe they can borrow the guns from Frontierland.

You want this to be the happiest place on earth for parents as well? C'mon Imagineers. Get on it.

The other hack

I’m not a good patient. Never have been. And the fact that right now I’m on my sixth day of being down with some virus obviously hatched in a deep, dark part of the Brazilian rain forest, Amazon adjacent, isn’t doing anything to make me a better one.

I’m not sure exactly what it is, but this unpleasant little bug has been making me cough my lungs up the entire time. A dry, hacking, rib-breaking cough which can be described, without getting too clinical, as “non-productive.”

This unrelenting cough of course means I’ve had absolutely no sleep to speak of for the last six nights. I have however caught up on some fine 3 a.m. cable offerings, like the original American Werewolf In London, Marathon Man and Godfather 3 (well, two out of three ain’t bad).

This all started with a sore throat last Thursday, went to chills, then to feeling a little warm – it all felt a bit flu-ey. But the main symptom is this incessant coughing that just won’t stop.

This morning I finally went to my doctor, who said they’ve been seeing a lot of this. It’s just a virus going around, and I have no real choice but to ride it out. Here’s the punchline: when I asked how long, he said it’s been running about three weeks.

Now Monday I start a new gig. And as I wrote about here, sick days aren’t one of the benefits a freelancer gets, at least not without watching the bank balance remain in an upright and locked position.

So I’ll just keep resting, drinking fluids and hope that the Vicodin cough syrup that was prescribed knocks me out enough to finally get some sleep tonight.

I’ve had this for six days, and I have six more to get over it before I start work. Not to sound completely mercenary, but all I’m thinking is what any freelancer in my position would be thinking.

With any luck, I’ll get past the cough in time for them to cough up the cash.