Broadcast News
So I saw Broadcast News for the first time tonight as part of an Albert Brooks double feature at the Paramount Theater Summer Film Series (the other film was Modern Romance, a movie I had seen before, love, and might write about separately). Broadcast News is a little weird to me. I think it gets by on the manic energy of Holly Hunter, Albert Brooks’ dry wit, and William Hurt’s charisma as well as the chemistry of the likable and fleshed out supporting cast (by the end, the news team - from the technical crew to the top anchor - feels almost like family). It also gets by on most (but not all) of the writing.
But at 2 hours and 13 minutes its too fat and it’s not the most visually appealing movie (even a scene at airport security looks like it was staged in the same drab, confining set as the news room; why would airport security ever be so cramped?). James L. Brooks demonstrates his knack for emotional and tonal shifts on a dime, but sometimes he can’t help himself but shift gears too far. Some gags are attempts at biting satire but play like parody and feel cartoony (two examples: two musicians pitching their idea of the new opening credits jingle; and Holly Hunter’s Jane sending her rival to report on an Alaskan serial killer pays off in the background of a scene but the set dressing for it forces the joke and so it falls flat because its tone feels out of place). James L. Brooks hangs around in scenes far too long to make sure these gags get played; otherwise, the movie won’t be funny enough.
Oh but it would. When the film focuses on the interplay of the three main characters it really shines at providing relatable, honest human moments. Characters crack jokes in the most emotionally raw and intense situations - as when Albert Brooks takes a stand declaring his love for Hunter and his desire to fight for her, he stops to quip, “This is the first time I’ve ever fought for anyone. Do people ever win these fights?”. It rings true - and funny. And while these characters are neurotic and don’t go about their feelings in the healthiest of ways, these aren’t infantile adult children. These are grown ups, acting like grown ups, being funny and devastating all at the same time.
Is it blasphemy to name scenes I’d retroactively cut from an Oscar nominee? I’d cut the jingle (it’s funny, and Brooks is hanging in the scene to also show the executive director’s disapproval of Tom’s first performance on air, but it keeps us away too long from the central drama). I’d cut the sex scene (they kiss at the car, Holly Hunter sees this, we know they’re going to sleep together - nothing is gained by showing us Tom and the other anchorwoman actually together, especially when she’s about to get shuttled off to Alaska in the next scene never to be heard from again. There’s great character work in that scene, and I love the scene for that reason; however, it’s gotta go... in my humble opinion). It’s almost as though James L. Brooks wants to make sure that we know they slept together, and that’s another tendency he has in this movie, which is to be on the nose. It doesn’t sink the film, but it happens more often than I’d like to see.
And the seven years later coda - there were two previous out puts you could have ended the film on before we got to this last sequence. The idea behind this last sequence isn’t bad - it’s just the staging of the whole thing. It doesn’t feel right. It ties the movie up too nicely. It’s not necessary. And it’s the worst written scene in the film. The seven years later jump just doesn’t work for me and it’s too bad because I thought any of the earlier out points would have made for a more resonant conclusion to the film.
But hindsight is 20/20! And I know I’m shitting on the movie but I actually like much of it. A whole lot of it in fact. It comes back to the performances and the middle of the film, where the writing is its sharpest and most witty (“If there’s anything I could do for you” “I’d like you to die real soon”). Joan Cusak’s first scene is a classic; the hypertension of getting that tape on the air on time is both comic and a rush. And Hunter and Albert Brooks’ playing off each other, like best friends that communicate like lovers but will never act on those feelings, is my favorite element of the film. Two truly wonderful, delightful performances.
But at 2 hours and 13 minutes its too fat and it’s not the most visually appealing movie (even a scene at airport security looks like it was staged in the same drab, confining set as the news room; why would airport security ever be so cramped?). James L. Brooks demonstrates his knack for emotional and tonal shifts on a dime, but sometimes he can’t help himself but shift gears too far. Some gags are attempts at biting satire but play like parody and feel cartoony (two examples: two musicians pitching their idea of the new opening credits jingle; and Holly Hunter’s Jane sending her rival to report on an Alaskan serial killer pays off in the background of a scene but the set dressing for it forces the joke and so it falls flat because its tone feels out of place). James L. Brooks hangs around in scenes far too long to make sure these gags get played; otherwise, the movie won’t be funny enough.
Oh but it would. When the film focuses on the interplay of the three main characters it really shines at providing relatable, honest human moments. Characters crack jokes in the most emotionally raw and intense situations - as when Albert Brooks takes a stand declaring his love for Hunter and his desire to fight for her, he stops to quip, “This is the first time I’ve ever fought for anyone. Do people ever win these fights?”. It rings true - and funny. And while these characters are neurotic and don’t go about their feelings in the healthiest of ways, these aren’t infantile adult children. These are grown ups, acting like grown ups, being funny and devastating all at the same time.
Is it blasphemy to name scenes I’d retroactively cut from an Oscar nominee? I’d cut the jingle (it’s funny, and Brooks is hanging in the scene to also show the executive director’s disapproval of Tom’s first performance on air, but it keeps us away too long from the central drama). I’d cut the sex scene (they kiss at the car, Holly Hunter sees this, we know they’re going to sleep together - nothing is gained by showing us Tom and the other anchorwoman actually together, especially when she’s about to get shuttled off to Alaska in the next scene never to be heard from again. There’s great character work in that scene, and I love the scene for that reason; however, it’s gotta go... in my humble opinion). It’s almost as though James L. Brooks wants to make sure that we know they slept together, and that’s another tendency he has in this movie, which is to be on the nose. It doesn’t sink the film, but it happens more often than I’d like to see.
And the seven years later coda - there were two previous out puts you could have ended the film on before we got to this last sequence. The idea behind this last sequence isn’t bad - it’s just the staging of the whole thing. It doesn’t feel right. It ties the movie up too nicely. It’s not necessary. And it’s the worst written scene in the film. The seven years later jump just doesn’t work for me and it’s too bad because I thought any of the earlier out points would have made for a more resonant conclusion to the film.
But hindsight is 20/20! And I know I’m shitting on the movie but I actually like much of it. A whole lot of it in fact. It comes back to the performances and the middle of the film, where the writing is its sharpest and most witty (“If there’s anything I could do for you” “I’d like you to die real soon”). Joan Cusak’s first scene is a classic; the hypertension of getting that tape on the air on time is both comic and a rush. And Hunter and Albert Brooks’ playing off each other, like best friends that communicate like lovers but will never act on those feelings, is my favorite element of the film. Two truly wonderful, delightful performances.