Heaven & Earth

"Joe Bob Goes to the Drive-In" for 6/12/92

cutline: Masahiko Tsugawa stars in the ultimate samurai movie, "Heaven & Earth."

By Joe Bob Briggs

Drive-In Movie Critic of Grapevine, Texas

Have you heard about Couples Therapy?

It's just like marriage counseling, but for people who AREN'T MARRIED. Isn't this great? You take in a movie, go out to eat, maybe a little late-night dancing, and then you stop by your psychiatrist's office to scream at each other before capping off the evening with a cappuccino and cheesecake.

People are actually doing this. They're going to shrinks AS A PART OF DATING.

So I figured, "What the hell, it's cheaper than a divorce," so I asked Vida Stegall to do it with me. As you know, I've been considering Vida for YEARS as a possible fifth ex-wife, and I thought this would be a good time to go to a complete stranger with her and talk about intimacy, sex, control of the relationship, money, careers, independence, the importance of childbearing, commitment and interpersonal communications.

In other words, I slept through the whole thing.

I do remember the main parts of it, though. Our psychiatrist, Dr. Valerie Witherspoon, said to me, "Joe Bob, there are two ways that your relationship with Vida is dysfunctional. You don't know how to fight, and you don't know how to listen."

And I said, "Okay, why don't we take turns beating you up, and then we'll listen to how YOU feel about it? How about that?"

This is when Vida and Valerie ganged up on me, claiming that I "avoid conflict" by "using jokes as a defense" and that it had caused our sex life to wither and die.

And I got furious. "There are LOTS of couples who haven't had sex since 1986. It's a lot more common than you think. Those people that claim they do it every month are exaggerating."

So, as a way to make us feel closer, Dr. Valerie gave us this game where we were supposed to each write down "six distinct sexual activities" on pieces of paper, and then we would put em in a hat and mix em up, and draw one out, and whatever it said, that's what we would do that night. So Vida wrote down six of em and I wrote down six of em, and the first one we drew out was "Take a sensual bubble bath together."

I liked this idea, because I'd just spent three days working on an oil rig and my body was jet-black.

Vida didn't seem to care much for it.

The next night we drew out one of my suggestions: "Strap Vida buck nekkid to a two-by-four, turn her upside down, and watch her try to get loose."

It would have worked, too, if I'd remembered to sand down the splinters first.

Let's not dwell on it.

Anyhow, what it came down to, finally, is that Dr. Valerie kept getting madder and madder the more we went to "couples therapy," and finally she said, "Mr. Briggs, there are two ways you can deal with this sort of problem. We can focus on your inter-personal dynamics with Vida, examining the psycho-dynamic systems you've created between each other. This might result in a lasting relationship, full of love and mutual understanding. Or we can try a solution-oriented therapy, which would be nothing more than a quick fix. Which do you REALLY want?"

And I said, "Quick fix."

And she acted like that was the WRONG answer. I mean, they WANT the man to be honest, and they DON'T want the man to be honest. Which is it?

You guys know what I'm talking about, don't you?

Speaking of brutal battles to the death, I just watched this Japanese flick called "Heaven & Earth" that I think is the greatest samurai picture ever made. It's about these two samurai warriors in the 16th century who were so evenly matched that neither one of em could ever defeat the other one. And so they constantly fought this chess match, using the lives of warriors, priests, women and children as pieces.

You ever noticed how, in samurai movies, nobody ever gets SENTIMENTAL about death? When people die, they REALLY die--and it's hard to watch. That's why I think it's a bum rap that these movies are constantly criticized for being so violent. Isn't it better to see a death that looks like a REAL death, the kind that makes you sick to see it, instead of seeing a death like in "Gunsmoke," where you kinda go, "Oh well, he deserved it, so what?"

Anyhow, the two samurai kings are Kagetora, one of those guys who's so holy he dedicates his life to the gods and swears to stay a virgin all his life, and when he has to kill somebody, he goes wandering around in the woods afterwards, punishing himself. But when it's time for war, he's the first to strike, but only to protect his people.

Takeda, on the other hand, is the Donald Trump of samurai warriors. He's trying to expand his empire until he rules all Japan. He tries to overwhelm anybody who gets in his way, and has a lot of rednecks working for him who he pays off in gold.

The great thing about this movie, though, is the battle sequences. They must have 10,000 extras in some of these scenes, most of them in full armor and on horseback. But unlike most war movies, you can ACTUALLY SEE WHAT'S HAPPENING IN THE BATTLE. It's amazing. You have these two giant armies coming together on a battlefield the size of Wisconsin, and because of the way they're directed, you can see the entire progress of the battle. I've never seen this in any movie.

Great acting, too, especially by Takaaki Enoki as Kagatora, Masahiko Tsugawa as Takeda, and Atsuko Asano and Naomi Zaizen as the love interests. Stuart Whitman does the narration.

I have a question. Why are the Japanese hanging around Hollywood, buying up stuff like "Housesitter," when they can make movies like this? (By the way, the 16th-century Japan in this movie is ACTUALLY western Canada, where the movie was filmed.)

One hundred and six dead bodies. No breasts. Giant rolling fireballs. Flaming villages. Three battles. Jousting. Hand-to-hand combat. Gratuitous flute playing. Spear Fu. Flaming arrow Fu. Drive-In Academy Award nominations for Tsunehiko Watase, as the loyal advisor Usami, for saying "Even brothers are subject to fate--you were born to be a ruler--war is your destiny" and "His spirit is weak! How can he think that way and survive?"; Takaaki Enoki, as the sad dreamy samurai Kagatora, for saying "Is everyone's future preordained?" and "A fair fight is not always practical"; and Haruki Kadokawa, the director, executive producer, and co-screenwriter, for doing it the drive-in way.

Four stars.

Joe Bob says check it out.

VIDEO QUICKIES

"Blood Harvest": The only starring role for Tiny Tim is in yet another horror flick based on Ed Gein, the famous mass-murdering maniac from rural Wisconsin who liked to hang bodies up in his barn, dress em like deer, and use various body parts as articles of furniture. (This one was even FILMED in rural Wisconsin.) The nubile Itonia Salochek is the college coed who comes home to her childhood farm, where she finds her parents missing and decides to hang around the house waiting for them to turn up. This was the first in a series of one movies for Itonia, despite a very plausible performance as the scream interest. Tiny Tim's performance is GREAT as the eccentric neighbor who has worn clown makeup ever since his parents were killed under mysterious circumstances, and Dean West is also good as Itonia's whiny ex-boyfriend. Six dead bodies. Fourteen breasts. Three stars.

"Auntie Lee's Meat Pies" (1991): Am I the only one who's noticed this, but does Karen Black look more and more like Louise Lasser, as her face continues to melt in each new movie she makes? In this one she's the satanic dorm mother for a hacienda full of bimbos in mini-skirts who lure men to the premises so they can be ground into hamburger and sold as meat pies. Pat Morita is the slow-on-the-uptake police chief. Michael Berryman is the retarded geek handyman. And the whole thing is played more for comedy than gore, with Kristine Anne Rose, Ava Fabian, Teri Weigel, Pia Reyes amd Petra Verkaik strutting through the movies like music-video vixens, grinding, chopping, and tenderizing passing motorists. Ten dead bodies. Four breasts. Three stars.

JOE BOB'S ADVICE TO THE HOPELESS

Victory Over Communism! The Thunderbird Drive-In, on Springs Road north of Conover, N.C., had another great season under owner Jim Rumley, who recently took it over from his father Alfred. It's still five bucks a carload (and they actually REFUND money when you have less than a carload), and their most popular features are horror films. They have a large picnic area and a weekend flea market, but the Rumley's are best known in drive-in circles for the Rumley uncle who invented the suction-cup plastic all-weather windshield extender (it was attached to car windshields during rainstorms so that the movie could be enjoyed without turning on the wipers). Pete Nelson of Morganton, N.C., and Dean Williams of Boone, N.C., remind us that, with eternal vigilance, the drive-in will never die. To discuss the meaning of life with Joe Bob, or to get free junk in the mail and his world-famous "We Are the Weird" newsletter, write Joe Bob Briggs, P.O. Box 2002, Dallas, TX 75221. Joe Bob's Fax line is always open: 214-368-2310.

Dear Joe Bob--

Did you know that there's something called (don't laugh) herstory? I'm not making this up. Apparently, a whole slew of feminists got together and decided that the word "history" is sexist in its connotations. So now we have both history and herstory.

So now, in addition to the differences men and women have biologically and socially, men and women also will have different (pardon me for the gross sexism) histories. Albert Einstein--he's in that book over there; Marie Curie--she's in that one. Eleanor Roosevelt--she was married to that president . . . you know, what's-his-name? Didn't Walter Mondale run for the presidency with a woman . . . you know, what's-her-name?

You can see how this can get really ridiculous really fast. Men and women share a common history--it's foolish to think otherwise--and this kind of nonsense can only lead to further alienation on the part of both sexes.

What were these people thinking about? Obviously they didn't spend a lot of time and effort on this new idea. Apparently, the ersatz geniuses who came up with this stuff are unaware of the history of a discipline OTHER THAN HISTORY--linguistics. The word "history" is derived from the Greek word "historia."

Which is feminine in gender, by the way.

Honestly--

Robin Anderson

St. Paul, Minn.

Dear Robin:

Actually, I'm GLAD those ladies are spending all day long going through books, crossing out "history" and sticking in "herstory." It keeps em busy.

Joe Bob,

I have been to the mountain,

I have spoken with Moses,

I have asked him the meaning of life,

He said, "The meaning of life, my son, is in the envelope."

[enclosed in an envelope is a photo of a 911 Carrera 4 Porsche]

Gene Addington

Hercules, Calif.

Dear Gene:

It's fascinating when you California guys get religious.

Dear Joe Bob,

Maybe you can tell me what's going on with these artist types out there? I am a porcelain artist. I paint. I paint beautifully. On tiles, vases and plates, whatever holds still.

When I jury for shows, the potters don't want me in their category because I don't throw my own pots. They have a point. I am a painter after all.

However, the oil painters and water colorists say the same thing. "She doesn't make her own ground (that's art talk for painting surface)." What I want to know is do you know of any oil painters who weave their own canvas? Name one--just one. If you can, what are all these painters who paint on store-made canvas doing out there in shows, galleries and the world in general throwing their weight around?

The way I see it is--I paint, they paint. That's even. I'm good, they're good--that's competition. My work is original, their's is sometimes. I have to fire mine in a kiln so it will be dry and permanent. To keep all things equal--how about requiring their work be fired in a kiln? Also, how about a guarantee against color changes over time? My work doesn't yellow.

While you're at it--ask the Fall Crafts Festival People in Baton Rouge why they refuse to jury my work.

Have a nice day!

D. Antonia Acock

Corvallis, Ore.

Dear Antonia:

It warms the cockles of my heart to know that your art brings you so much joy.

Dear Joe Bob:

I am writing this to avoid costly litigation in which you will surely lose everything, including your Toronado. But I hope by going man to man, face to face, mano a mano, we can solve the problem to MY satisfaction without having to unleash my lawyer so that he can skin you alive.

In our correspondence I have not kept it a secret that while I enjoy your movie reviews, THEY ARE NOT WORTH SPENDING MONEY ON. I read the public library's copy of the San Francisco Chronicle. But let's get directly to the point:

On November 27 I bought a copy of "Joe Bob Goes Back to the Drive-In" from a remainder stack of about 20, I'd say, for a dollar. Now as I had just found a dollar bill and some change on the ground not five minutes before, I could hardly call this MY money. I bought your book and took it home.

To my horror whilst flipping through the pages, I saw that you had reprinted one of my letters (page 93) without my permission and more importantly, without financial compensation. To refresh your memory it concerned my dog, Fred (who has since died a painful and lingering death--thanks for reminding me), who had turned communist, and the result of taking your advice.

Is this sinking in yet?

As I am a screenwriter, I get paid for my work, paid like you wouldn't believe. So let us be fair about this. Give me money. $2,745.30 to be exact. Hell, forget the 30 cents. Here's how I came up with the figure. There are 130,032 words in your book not counting other people's letters, table of contents, index. 119 of them are mine. That gives us a pro-rated ratio of .09151 per cent of your book being MY work. Now I figure you received a three, maybe four million dollar advance. Let us call it three. That multiplied by the pro-rated figure gives us the figure aforementioned. I guarantee my lawyer will add three zeros on the end of that to make it worth his while, if it comes to that.

To remind you of the kind of lawyers we screenwriters have at our disposal: John Landis got off, didn't he? My particular lawyer sharpens his teeth with a #3 Craftsman file and laughs like Peter Lorre. At a lunch meeting at Le Dome, I watched in horror as he actually got blood from a turnip. No matter what they say, it CAN be done.

So, Joe Bob, let's do it the easy way and, I might add, the bloodless way. Fork it over. Now.

Formally Your Friend for Life,

Malcolm Alcala

Whittier, Calif.

Dear Malcolm:

I compared my most recent royalty statement to the number of words in your letter reprinted in "Joe Bob Goes Back to the Drive-In"--which, by the way, I don't mean to nit-pick, but was NOT one of the most outstanding letters we printed that year--and, yes, I agree, I owe you a full pro-rated share. You have change for a nickel?

Joe Bob--

I am f---ing p-----! Please tell me it ain't so, Joe. I just watched a re-run of "Saturday Night Live" with Paul Simon doing "Diamonds on Her Soles." He and the "Band O' Bros" was LIP SYNCHIN'!

Is this the wave of da future? it's pretty f---in' bad when you can't watch, on tape, the real music being played!

Joey

Grapevine, Tex.

Dear Joey:

You were obviously under the impression that TV and REALITY have something in common. The next thing I know, you'll be telling me that the comments on "The Tonight Show" are spontaneous.

Return to the Drive-In Reviews Archive