"The Fury" Ups the Ante on Teenage Alienation

Kirk Douglas watches his son get abducted.

Brian DePalma has made better movies than The Fury (1978), but none that can match it for pure entertainment and craftsmanship. It shows a director, at the peak of his powers, layering science fiction and teen alienation over a conventional suspense plot. As if to make the film even more robust, DePalma integrates some unexpected humor and a shock ending that stunned audiences.

For most of its running time, The Fury follows two parallel stories. In the first, Peter (Kirk Douglas), a retired government agent, searches desperately for his kidnapped teenaged son. An early scene between father and son reveals that Robin (Andrew Stevens) is “special,” though his unique talents remain a mystery throughout much of the film.

Amy Irving as Gillian.

The second plot revolves around Gillian (Amy Irving), a teenage girl who inadvertently discovers she may possess extrasensory powers. Eager to learn about herself, Gillian enrolls at the Paragon Institute, which studies ESP and telepathy. She soon learns that she has a psychic connection with a former Paragon resident—a boy named Robin.

Thematically, the connection between Gillian and Robin is that they’re both isolated from a “normal” society. When Robin’s father discusses returning to the U.S. to attend school, Robin replies: “I won’t fit in; I’d feel like some kind of freak.” Likewise, Gillian knows she is different. Except for one friend, her classmates treat her cruelly or ambivalently (not unlike the title character in DePalma’s earlier Carrie). It’s no wonder that Gillian becomes anxious to meet Robin—to finally talk with someone like herself.

Tragedy strikes during the escape.

Stylistically, DePalma engages in some of his trademark directorial flourishes. There are plenty of foreboding overhead angles and a shot where the camera revolves around Gillian on the stairs as she has a vision. But The Fury also features my favorite sequence in any DePalma film: a stunning, five-minute, slow-motion scene in which Gillian escapes from the Paragon Institute. Manipulating the soundtrack to maximum effect, DePalma avoids dialogue and filters out all natural sounds except for screeching tires and gunshots. He then uses John Williams’superb music score to alter the scene’s mood from light to dark in a matter of seconds.

Although the climax to The Fury goes over-the-top and turns excessively gory, the film’s virtues easily outweigh its faults. Amy Irving turns in a winning, vulnerable performance, while Carrie Snodgress provides great support as a nurse who befriends her. DePalma keeps the plot moving smartly, while visually reminding us this is a film about people reaching out to one another. Watch for his many shots of hands: Gillian grabbing the doctor’s hand on the stairs; Gillian’s and Robin’s finger tapping in unison; and Peter holding onto his son’s hand near the end.

Carrie Snodgress and Kirk Douglas.

Kirk Douglas appeared in movies for three more decades after The Fury. I'd rate this among the best of his late-career performances. He and Snodgress share some winning scenes and he forges an effective paternal relationship with Irving. The Fury is really an ensemble piece and Douglas, the film biggest star, accepts that knowingly.

Trivia fans should note that two of Gillian’s classmates are played by Daryl Hannah and Laura Innes (Carrie on the television series ER). The off-duty cop with the new Cadillac is Dennis Franz, long before NYPD Blue. For the record, my second favorite DePalma film is the equally underrated Body Double, an entertaining, slightly sleazy homage to Hitchcock’s Rear Window.


This post is part of the Kirk Douglas 100th Birthday Blogathon hosted by Shadows and Satin. Click here to check out the complete blogathon schedule.

The Competition: Will Love Capture the Biggest Prize?

When we first meet Paul Dietrich, the driven pianist has placed a disappointing third in a minor Midwestern competition. Despite his proud father's support, Paul (Richard Dreyfuss) considers ditching his concert pianist dream for a job in the Chicago public school system. However, when he earns an invite to the prestigious Arabella Hillman Competition--the "Super Bowl" of his field--he decides to go for it one last time.

Richard Dreyfuss and Amy Irving in The Competition.

Paul encounters nothing but distractions when he arrives for the event in San Francisco. His mother finally reveals what Paul already knew, but refused to acknowledge. His father, who is still working to support his unemployed son, faces serious health issues. The competition is also unexpectedly delayed when the teacher of a young Russian pianist defects to the U.S.

The most significant distraction, though, is the presence of Heidi Joan Schoonover (Amy Irving). The talented and pretty pianist has harbored "an itch" for Paul since they met two years earlier. Paul tries to ignore her...but the attraction is definitely mutual.

I've been in the mood to revisit The Competition (1980) ever since I saw Amy Irving in Crossing Delancey (1988) last year. Thus, I was delighted when it appeared on cable recently. I think one's appreciation for the film hinges on the two leads and the lengthy musical passages.

Heidi plays a Prokofiev composition.

As in several of her early movies (e.g., The Fury, Yentl), Amy Irving exudes a winning mix of vulnerability and strength. If that sounds like an oxymoron, it's a testament to Irving's ability to find depths in her character even   when--as in The Competition--the script hasn't fleshed them out fully. Initially, Heidi seems unfocused as she copes with Paul's inconsistent attitude toward her. Yet, when it comes time to play in the competition, she takes charge and unleashes her passion and precision on the keyboard. We gradually realize that, despite Paul's outward appearance of control, that Heidi is by far the stronger of the two--both emotionally and in terms of talent.

Paul conducts the orchestra in one of
the film's best scenes.

Richard Dreyfuss faces more of an acting challenge, if only because Paul is at times downright unlikable and obnoxious. It's fortunate that Dreyfuss can counter his on-screen abrasiveness with an inner endearing quality that peaks through now and then. It has saved him in numerous portrayals of obsessive characters in films like Close Encounters of the Third Kind (1977), The Goodbye Girl (1977), and, most notably, Once Around (1991) in which he pushes the limits with his brash, overbearing salesman.

For some viewers, though, The Competition is all about the music. Lalo Schifrin, the composer who gave us the Mission: Impossible theme, does a remarkable job of condensing the classical works of Chopin, Brahms, and Beethoven. He also adds a memorable love theme (though I'm not especially fond of the lyrics sung over the closing credits). The song earned Schifrin and lyricist Will Jennings an Oscar nomination. (The film also received a nomination for editing.)

The Competition is not altogether successful in its attempt to combine romance with a portrait of an obsessive artist. Yet, if it misses the mark occasionally (I would have nixed the Russian defector subplot), it still holds one's attention with the performances, the music, and the lovingly-filmed San Francisco locales. One still wishes, though, that the whole movie could have been as good as the climatic scene between Heidi and Paul, in which the latter confesses with stark honesty that he never thought she could play better than him.

Love in the 1980s: Tootsie and Crossing Delancey

Hoffman as Michael as Dorothy.

Love is never easy in a romantic comedy.

In Tootsie (1982), Dustin Hoffman plays Michael Dorsey, an out-of-work actor whose career soars after he lands a role--as a woman--on a television soap. His best friend (Bill Murray) and agent (director Sydney Pollack) are the only ones who know that he's impersonating a woman. That becomes a major problem when Michael falls in love with Julie (Jessica Lange), one of his co-stars on Southwest General.

Oscar-winner Jessica Lange.

The central premise of Tootsie has been done before and done better (e.g., the much funnier Some Like It Hot). Tootsie becomes a far more interesting film when viewed as a tale of personal transformation. When we first meet Michael, he is a self-centered man unable to connect emotionally with women. He teaches acting because he can't get work as an actor. It's only when he becomes actress Dorothy Michaels that he "sees himself" for the first time and strives to be a better person. He subsequently develops a meaningful relationship with a woman, as his friendship with Julie evolves into love.

While Tootsie works sporadically, it can't overcome its blemishes. For example, the outcomes of Michael's inevitable revelation are resolved far too neatly. It's hard to imagine Julie's father (Charles Durning) ever forgiving Michael after proposing marriage to Dorothy. Also, at the beginning of the film, Hoffman makes Michael almost too unlikable. I can see where Hoffman wanted to take his performance. By stressing Michael's character flaws, it makes his later transformation all the more effective. Still, it's a fine line to walk, even for an actor of Hoffman's caliber.

Tootsie was nominated for ten Academy Awards, including Best Picture, Best Director (Pollack), Best Actor (Hoffman), Best Supporting Actress (Jessica Lange and Teri Garr), and Best Song (the pretty "It Might Be You," a modest hit for Stephen Bishop). The only nominee to go to home with an Oscar statuette was Jessica Lange.

Amy Irving as Izzy.

In Crossing Delancey (1988), Isabelle's biggest obstacle to finding love is herself. Her identity is shaped by her need for independence and her career. Isabelle, or Izzy for short, has made a conscious decision to distance herself from her Jewish roots. She can't ignore them totally, though, for the most important person in her life is her Bubbie (Jewish grandmother).

Her Bubbie has decided that Izzy's life would be more fulfilling with a husband to share it. She has engaged the services of a marriage broker, much to her granddaughter's dismay. To please Bubbie, Isabelle (Amy Irving) agrees to meet the marriage broker's proposed candidate. Imagine her surprise when Sam (Peter Riegert) turns out to be a good-looking, financially-stable, charming guy.

Izzy and her Bubbie.

At its heart, Crossing Delancey is a character study about a young woman blinded by her perceptions of career and love. She pursues an intellectual author because she loves the "idea" of him. She can't see that he views her only as a sexual conquest and/or his new personal assistant. Likewise, she initially looks down on Sam because he has no career aspirations beyond his family's pickle business and no interest in moving from her old Jewish neighborhood.

Amy Irving brings out the flaws in Izzy, while still keeping the character likable. It's perhaps her best performance, though I also think she was quite good in Brian De Palma's The Fury, opposite Richard Dreyfuss in The Competition, and in Yentl with Barbra Streisand.

The star of the film, though, is Reizl Bozyk as Bubbie. Her credits consist of two movies, including Crossing Delancey, and an episode of Law and Order. According to her New York Times obituary, Reizl Bozyk appeared in hundreds of Yiddish stage productions in New York, Argentina, and Poland. She was 74 when she appeared in Crossing Delancey, giving a heartfelt, nuanced performance as the loving, sometimes feisty, and always crafty Bubbie.