Two thousand and eighteen marks the 35th anniversary of 1983. In that year, movies like Scarface, A Christmas Story, and Risky Business were released. I was eight years old then, and many of these films I did not see until years later. But there were a few that drew me into a theatre, and they left me with some of my fondest memories. In many cases, their images remain with me to this day. Some of these movies were better than others, but looking back, even the disappointments seemed less harsh because I was experiencing them as a kid. These were the days when more times than not I walked into a theatre with high hopes and left with some degree of satisfaction. As an adult, it’s easier to be critical and dismissive of particular films whose failings are all the more obvious to me now, but it is the memory of that time and place, and the experience of who I saw these films with, that remain so special.
Terms of Endearment won Best Picture for that year, but I certainly had no interest in seeing it. What eight-year-old would? I do, however, regret missing out on movies like The Right Stuff, which cried out for the big screen experience. (I’ll try to remedy that at the Pickwick Theatre Classic Film Series.) Comedies like National Lampoon’s Vacation were a hit in ’83– but I saw that one later on cable. I seem to recall Twilight Zone: The Movie in a theatre, and I know for certain Trading Places was the comedy I saw at the show with my dad and brother. I don’t remember every film my parents took me to over the years, but I can say that generally they were of the “popcorn movie” variety, not necessarily the “important” Oscar contenders. I wasn’t pointing to the movie ads in the newspaper and asking my dad to take me to see Tender Mercies. So I would never attempt an overview of American cinema in 1983. The following is simply my remembrance of three “big” films I saw theatrically.
Never Say Never Again, a remake of 1965’s Thunderball, was Sean Connery’s final outing as British spy James Bond. The film was not made by Eon Productions (which was making the Roger Moore 007 films) and it shows, particularly in the weak film score. Despite these limitations, it was fun to see, if only because it brought Sean Connery back to the role he made famous. Sean actually looked better this time out than he did in 1971’s Diamonds Are Forever. At least here he doesn’t appear bored with the material. I do remember having a genuine excitement in seeing this film because I grew up with the old Connery films on network television. Never Say Never Again’s settings and set-pieces evoked a wonderful nostalgia for those Bond films of the 1960s. I simply loved all the hype surrounding Connery’s return, and for me, it would be the only new Connery Bond film I would see in a theatre. Interestingly, that year we skipped Octopussy (which made more money at the box office and, arguably, is a more exciting film overall). Connery’s career would hit a high point by the end of the 1980s with films like The Untouchables, The Hunt For Red October and Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade. However, the remainder of his post-Bond career would be one artistic dud after another, culminating with 2003’s The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen. An unfortunate career end for such a distinguished actor.
Just as Sean Connery was James Bond, Christopher Reeve was Superman. As a kid I loved the first two Superman movies. The original remains my all-time favorite superhero movie. I was flying high when I entered the theatre lobby to see the second sequel to Richard Donner’s 1978 classic. Superman III is a schizophrenic movie, which literally becomes a plot point. The scenes with Christopher Reeve as Superman are quite good. These include Clark Kent’s return to Smallville and reuniting with Lana Lang, played by Annette O’Toole. On the other hand, those scenes featuring comic character Gus Gorman (played by Richard Pryor) and tycoon Ross Webster (Robert Vaughn) are absolutely brutal. The whole concept was based on a gimmick when the Salkinds, the film’s producers, came across Richard Pryor on television and thought it would be a swell idea to shoehorn him into a Superman movie. Genius, right? What could go wrong? Well, pretty much everything.
Despite its monumental failings, Superman III could have been salvaged with significant eliminations. Additionally, some re-cast roles might’ve changed the entire tone and concept of the film for the better. Imagine instead a tough guy actor like Lee Marvin cast as the villainous businessman, or someone like a young Matthew Broderick (then starring in WarGames) as the computer whiz who gets manipulated into building a super computer. The basic idea of a machine becoming self-aware and wanting to live is a great premise– but it doesn’t materialize until the film is almost over. Director Richard Lester was an ill-suited choice to carry on the Superman legacy, and that is clearly evident with the slapstick title sequence that opens the film. It’s one of those “What were they thinking?” moments. Though some fans applaud Lester’s Superman II, I always felt that too much of his cringe-worthy humor got in the way. It just didn’t belong in these movies. (Can I ever forgive Lester as a filmmaker for that flying ice cream cone during the Metropolis battle?)
Superman III might have been a nice way to end a trilogy had someone else directed it, but it all came apart and literally took the franchise into the junkyard. Yet it still made money. (Superman IV, an even worse film, was the financial flop that officially killed the series.) In its defense, if one can be made, Superman III does contain the last genuinely great sequence in any Superman movie. The scene in which Superman extinguishes a raging fire at a chemical factory demonstrated that Lester did have the ability to direct a suspenseful, well-mounted action sequence without any nonsense– if he so chose. (Recall the terrorists on the Eiffel Tower that opened Superman II.) And there’s an even better scene involving Clark Kent fighting the evil Superman halfway through the film. These individual sequences hold up remarkably well and remain far superior to anything found in the current DC Universe.
Finally, there was Return of the Jedi, released in May of 1983. It is one of the most fondly remembered films from my childhood because Star Wars was a cultural touchstone in my generation. Jedi was the climax of that saga, made in the pre-CG age when puppetry was its own form of wizardry. The film was enchanting in a Wizard of Oz-type of way, and as a small boy, I remember the anticipation of seeing C-3P0 and R2-D2 approaching Jabba the Hutt’s lair at the outset. Despite the dangers that were being set up, I knew everything would be okay once Mark Hamill’s Luke Skywalker made his appearance. This was a time when I believed in the heroes on the screen and trusted them to take us out of danger. The Star Wars films were special because they came every three years and it was always an event. In the immediate years after Jedi, the Star Wars films remained special because we knew they were locked away in history– a modern mythology that would always be there for us untouched. There was no need for prequels when we could simply imagine what the fall of the Republic might have been like with a young Alec Guinness. No one needed the back story of every character. Their pasts and their futures were left to our imagination.
Of course, the merchandising was always a big part of the fun of Star Wars, and I had many of the original toys. But there was more to these films than just the commercialization. Even distinguished authors like Joseph Campbell noted the inherent value in their stories which were about the hero’s journey. Return of the Jedi was never on the same level as The Empire Strikes Back— how could any film equal Empire, especially one with Ewoks?– but there were moments, particularly Luke’s final confrontation with Darth Vader, when it surpassed its predecessors with an awe-inspiring power. George Lucas would tamper with all these films in the years to come– the 1997 re-release was fine– but then the alterations kept coming. (I now refuse to watch any version of Return of the Jedi that replaces Sebastian Shaw with Hayden Christianson!) Like a celebrity obsessed with plastic surgery who becomes disfigured by it, George Lucas couldn’t let it go and re-shaped the films and the face of Lucasfilm into something less than what they were originally. He simply failed to understand his own creation. Then in the late 1990s, surrounded by yes-men, George directed three disappointing prequels– the first two of which are unwatchable.
The Star Wars films continue to this day, being churned out every year now to over-saturate a market. These new films, directed by “fanboys” rather than visionaries, simply rehash familiar elements from the original trilogy. To make matters worse, a darker agenda seems to lurk beneath the surface of these new adventures, as though to suggest that the old ways must die– and that the older generation must die with it. The characters we loved growing up have ended up in tragic storylines we never would have imagined back in 1983 when we left them on the Endor moon in joyous celebration.
You can’t really go back. You can’t capture lightning in a bottle, but filmmakers still try, believing they can harness the magic and take people back to their childhood. After three prequels, two sequels, and two stand-alone films, there has only been one time when I felt like I was eight years old again and trusted Luke Skywalker to save the day. It’s one special moment near the climax of The Last Jedi (2017), in which Luke returns to help his friends who are trapped in an old Rebel base. There is a lovely exchange between Luke and his sister Leia, with John Williams’ score recalling old themes and memories. It’s a moment that captures not only a sense of loss for characters loved, but a loss of a past that can never be recaptured. We, as the audience, look back nostalgically to a time we hold dear, and we realize how much things have changed.
But then, finally, before the finest action scene of the film, “Master Skywalker” gives C-3P0 that comforting wink before leaving to face an army, the new modern threat.
~MCH
