Father Malone's Saint Patrick's Day Roundup - State of Grace, Miller's Crossing

of release. This is recorded basically live. It's been a tumultuous weekend of indecision and distraction, so this is coming together at the last possible moment. Let's TCB Mama, get in the jet taking care of business. That's in the Elvis Way, not the Bachmann Turner overdriveway. It was a Grand Funk railroad music confusion. We'll have more of that in a moment. Thank you to all who subscribe to this show. You can do that on any platform you're

listening to. Hit the like or the subscribe or the follow button, and if you're feeling generous in both time and efforts a five star review, or if you've got some of those republic credits, I'll take those over at patreon dot com slash follow alone. Subscribers there get episodes early and commercial free, and access to shows you can only find they're done out of the way. Now let's

get back to that musical confusion. I promise that this will be an Irish themed episode. Shut up. On average, I only go on about the Irish like half the time, maybe more. The point is shut up, y'all. Remember Meatloaf, Not that the delicious mom or Dad has reached the end of their recipe tether, but the famed singer, actor

and in general badass human being. Of course you do the rocky horror picture show Whatever Happened is Saturday Night bat out of Hell with that cover that seemed like an escape from the pages of Heavy Metal Magazine, most likely because it was created by Richard Corbin, who we talked about over on Anthology's Attack when we discussed Heavy Metal movie self plugging. Okay, his most famous song from that period is Paradise by the Dashboard Light. That song

was written of Meatloaf. Songs really were written by Jim Steinman, He's always been described as the king of theatrical rock. All of Meatloaf's catalog feel like their songs and performances in search of a cohesive whole, a stage musical perhaps, and of course that's exactly what they were meant to be. Steinman had been writing versions of his magnum Opus Broadway

musical since he was at Amherst. Back then, it was called The Dream Engine, and then it was called Neverland for a while, and it was about Peter Pan before ending up as a quasi concept album and eventually eventually its own musical called Bat Out of Hell.

While they were on that tour together, Steinmann and Meatloaf and Foley all worked out what would eventually be Bad out of Hell. When it came time to record Paradise by the Dashboard Light. It's Ellen Foley's voice in the duet, though everyone thinks it's Carla DeVito because she was in the promotional film that they showed on MTV seven thousand times because it was seven minutes long and it ate

up a lot of airtime. Ellen Foley incidentally is the inspiration for the Clash's song Should I Stay or Should I Go? She sounds like trouble. I love her okay. That song, Paradise by the Dashboard Light, it's an ode to teen lust and rock and roll and sexual politics and regret so much regret. The Phil Rizudo play by play is ridiculous, by the way, obvious and dumb. I've

made that point elsewhere, but it bears repeating. So that song is about a guy who wants to fuck a girl and she says yes, but only if they get married. So he says yes, and the song ends with both of them praying for the end of time so they can end their time with you. That was how the song ended. That was back in like nineteen seventy seven. Then in nineteen ninety three, Lo and Behold Meet Love comes roaring back onto the charts. Remember that trilogy of

pre Bad Boys Michael Bay directed videos. The first single is I'd do anything for Love, but I won't do that parenthesis. It's a sequel to Paradise by the Dashboard Light, but the girl only pops up at the very end. Okay, the first song ended with them hating each other. They're remembering a teenage fling, so that song ends with them already at their wits end, and that's in nineteen seventy seven. This song forgets all about that. It's just him totally

into the relationship. It's a Jim Steinman version of a hip hop tune, just endless bragging about the lengths he'd go for love, the tasks he'd accomplish for love, all these things he'd do, but not that he won't do that. What is that I'm asking you, listeners? This is hardly a burning question with the state of the world currently, but you know, if things do go sideways, I want

the answer before we all turn into dust. This is how the song posits the question, like he's been asked to do some horrible thing that goes against the fundamental principally holds with regard to his partner. Not only has he seemingly been asked to do it, but the implication

is she's doing the asking. If she didn't pop up at the end of the song, then it would just be a pulp fiction briefcase or a kiss me Deadly briefcase, just some sort of briefcase, some intellectual puzzle buried in a comeback anthem, or at least what passes for a meatloaf anthem. Instead, she pops up at the end of the song and tells him that it's inevitable that he's gonna cheat on her, and he says, no, I won't do that, So that's it. He would do anything for love,

but he won't cheat for love. Has that ever been a scenario you have to fuck her or him to prove you love me? I mean, yeah, of course it's happened, But I just don't think bittersweet merchant Jim Steinman had that in mind thirty years. This question has been lurking in the recesses of my brain Steman even answered the question at one point, and I was even more confused.

What do you think I'd like to know? Reach me at Father Malone seventy one at gmail dot com, or if you want to socialize at father Malone on the Insta and the Blue Sky and the threads. Hit me up on any of those avenues and you might show up on our newest segments.

That one was my favorite first person shooter, so I could see in theory that those drawbacks might not exactly enhance a format I'm already not used to. But then I happened upon a cheap copy of that game, And let me tell you something, I have been playing this goddamn game non stop. I won't embarrass the listener who wrote in, so I'll just say his initials are HP.

How wrong you were, sir. Shame on you. Don't you know that falling off a cliff face one hundred and fifty times is worth my time if I'm also able to force push a stormtrooper into a massive hydraulic ram. The game does need a fast travel so you can get back to your ship quicker. I don't know why we have to retrace our steps through a massive fucking board. Just they have a ship, what's the point of having it if they can't come to you and pick you up.

Even if you were inside they could blast through the walls. Anyway, I am really enjoying this game, and I mentioned the star of that game, Cameron Monahan. Now I've seen the entire run of Shameless, which he was spectacular on, and I've seen him on a few other things here and there. But my introduction to him was near the end of

the first season of Gotham. He played a circus performer named Jerome Velaska who murdered his mother, was found guilty by reason of insanity, and then carted off to Arkham. He's the joker. By the end of the episode, you know he's the joke thanks to Monahan's super fucking creepy performance.

I don't know if there was a rights issue on that show, but it seemed like they couldn't use certain characters, or at least call them by their proper names, so instead we get Jerome popping up over the next few seasons in the various guises of the Joker that we had already gotten over the years up to and including the new fifty two stitched on face version. So we got a goofy Joker, a scary Joker, an unhinged, lunatic Joker, and Cameron Monahan pulls each of them off, and then

we met Jeremiah, Jerome's brother, the quiet calculated Genius. He's dosed by Jerome with a skin whitening, madness inducing serum that gave us an incarnation of the Joker I had never seen and now it's my favorite portrayal ever. It's a fashion plate Joker, but one who never seems to speak above a whisper, so all of his insanity is

delivered in a very measured and thoughtful way. Is fucking horrifying, which is a long winded way of saying it's super weird to have a photorealistic character in video games or not characters, but the actors having an avatar of Cameron Monaghan and puppeteering him around the Star Wars universe is surreal, and yes there is too much running and jumping at

just the right angle for my liking. Video game developers, could you put in a gen X button in each of the games, you know, for when you've explored enough of the level. I don't need all the metals and the secrets and the unlocked skins and whatever the fuck. Sometimes I just want to get back on the ship and go to another planet. And yes, we are moving on. That was going to be the segue. We're moving into the future or into the present. It's St Patrick's Day,

Happy Saint Patrick's Day, all or as I grew up knowing it amateur hour. I once saw the Pogues on the East Coast at a random date and here in Las Vegas on Saint Patrick's Day. The difference was quite noticeable. In the Boston gig, if you had a Celtics or a Bruins jersey on, chances are that was your standard uniform. Same for scaley Cap. I know kids who grew it in the womb along with their central nervous system, and

the fucking Pogues were playing. It was like a three hour Saint Patrick's Day in the middle of I don't even remember what month it was. It had all the highs and terrible vomiting lows that the holiday entails. The Las Vegas show was hilarious, just a bunch of sunburned desert rats wearing their Guinness sweatshirts and Ireland soccer jerseys,

making their annual appearance. Fresh from the closet. They stood around to nurishing their two dark beers and only coming alive when Shane McGowan started singing about Christmas and this was Saint Patrick's Day. I was expecting the crowd to tear the theater down, and they would have in Chicago or New York or Boston. It's no secret I'm Irish. I've covered a bunch of Irish movies here on the show.

I'm Irish American. In point of fact, I'm probably more Scottish than anything, but those relatives are mainly back in Scotland, and the Irish ones were the ones I grew up around. So I'm totally at ease with the thought of a brick being called Irish confetti, or that we all eventually succumb to Irish amnesia. You forget everything but the grudge, and it has definitely given me an appreciation of the

portrayal of the Irish on screen. Throughout the decades. There seem to be three categories really mystical, musical, and car bombs. That's what's on tap for the residents and descendants of the Emerald Isle. It's rare to find a film without any of those, rare to have them feel in any way authentic. The two choices tonight have the flavor fuck. One of them is a masterpiece. The other is state of grace.

mob in Hell's Kitchen. I'm not saying I was truant on the day that State of Grace was released, but I did manage to see it a couple of times before the final bell rang at my high school that fine Friday. Let me give you the cast list. Sean Penn,

Gary Oldman, Robin Wright, Ed Harris, John c Riley, John Tturo Burgess, Meredith and Thomas g Waits. That's Thomas g Waits from The Thing and the Warriors, and he's just an extra basically of that killer list of actors. When this movie came out, Sean Penn was the only real name. It was a new Way the first film of any of the other actors, But who the fuck new Gary Oldman outside of Sidon Nancy fanatics like me. But knowing Oldman was going to be in it just made it

all the more spectacular. And tantalizing, and it was directed by Phil Juano, who had already made one of my favorite high school movies, Three o'clock High. Juanu had caught the eye of Steven Spielberg with his usc short film Last Chance Dance. He hired Juana to do two episodes of Amazing Stories and then hired him to do Three o'clock High. While he can do action a plenty, Juana is definitely in the Spielberg camp of movie making. He wouldn't be my go to when making a gritty crime drama.

I suspect his hiring had way more to do with the film he'd completed previous to State of Grace. That was U two's concert film Rattle and Hum. It's kind of easy to bag on YouTube now, Hell it was easy back then. Fucking relax, Bono, you are bugging us, and I think you meant to. But that movie was a pretty big deal at the time. Concert films weren't unheard by the late eighties, but they were rare. So he's got Spielberg cred and an Irish connection what the

hell right? Which makes it sound like I'm blaming Juannu for the film's shortcomings. Which is not true. I think the movie is as good as it is in large part, in massive part thanks to his prowess behind the camera. He is incapable of true grime, but he made an amazingly evocative film in terms of locations and how he lit them. This was a fourteen million dollar budget and every dime is on screen. There is no subbing in

Vancouver for New York. Here, this is fucking New York, and Juanu shoots everywhere, coming up with fresh locations while always reminding you where you are with some distant landmark. These actors didn't need any help from him, but he could have been a hindrance. Instead, he lets all of the characters breathe sometimes allowing entire scenes to play out

nearly wordlessly. Everyone on screen has amazing chemistry, as you would expect from actors of their caliber, but some of that chemistry leaked off the celluloid and into the real world. It was during this film that Sean Penn and Robin Wright met. They would eventually marry and have kids and such and such. Also, at the start of production, Phil Juanna's girlfriend was Uma Thurman, and just after production, Uma Thurman married Gary oldman, Phil Juanna visual stylist, and Cupid.

This is overall a pretty good movie. It's a low level pot boiler about a former neighborhood kid who went off and became a cop and has now returned to infiltrate the gang that's run by his childhood friends. The dialogue is all sharp and well delivered, but the script can't figure out what it wants to be Mean Streets or the Godfather, so we get a weird mashup of both low level figures engaging in mostly petty crimes, but framed as some kind of grand opera. It's very unusual

and it doesn't work, but I don't care. It doesn't have a wise old irishman ah faith in Bagora, nor does it have some musical subplot, nor is anything on screen related to the Irish Republican Army or gun running. The problem with the movie really is that it's based on a real group of criminals in Hell's Kitchen that operated from the sixties till right around the time the movie came out. Everyone calls them the Irish Mob, but if you were on the East Coast, more likely than

not you knew them as the Westies. That's Mickey Spillane's gang. I'm not kidding. During the seventies, the Javit Center was

being built basically in Hell's Kitchen, so the Westies were fighting off the Genovese crime family who were trying to move in and get those sweet construction jobs, and they managed to basically keep them out. But then there was a power battle within the Westies and some of them threw in with the Gambino crime family. Others were hiring Genevese hitman against to kill their own people. It was a big fucking mess, and it's the stuff of great

fucking cinema. Instead. State of Grace, which is longer than two hours, I'd like to note, tells the story of one Irish family, two brothers and a sister, Ed Harris, head of the crime family, his younger brother Gary Oldman, the hot head lieutenant, and his sister Robin Wright, who has been out of the family business for some time, and she's the former flame of Sean Penn, who has

recently returned and is an undercover cop. So it's taking the real life, batshit crazy version of the Westies, which really resembles The Godfather and instead tries to give us mean streets. I mentioned the movie doesn't have a musical subplot. That doesn't mean the soundtrack isn't fucking awesome. Though it's got the Pogues and Janet O'Connor, Van Morrison, You Two, Lyle Lovett and Guns n' Roses and Rolling Stones. Those all appear on the radio or jukebox and just nice

to hear them peppered throughout this world. The score, on the other hand, might be the actual culprit weighing the movie down. It's rare to say that the work of Ennio Morricone might be a film's downfall, but on my most recent rewatch it became all too clear they should have dumped the score immediately. I think this might have been a youth problem. State of Grace is Juannu's second narrative film. You get a list of possible composers and

there's any O Morricone's name. Are you not going to hire the man who wrote The Good, the Bad and the Ugly? Well, if you're doing an Irish crime film set in the heart of the Hell's kitchen, No, you fucking well don't. And Marconi's score is at odds with everything, or rather just hitting the fucking nail on the head, underscoring how serious and depressing the scenario is. Plus it's mostly just recycled score from the mission. Marconi was notorious

for recycling his own music. That's a problem. But at the top of the list of things to appreciate here is Burgess Meredith. He plays an old pensioner eating stewed tomatoes out of a can that Sean Penn is sent to shake down. He's all the vitality and heartbreak you could imagine from the man in a role that is ending his career. It is fucking stellar. But is this the most stellar Irish American crime film I can recommend? On the day when everyone's wearing green and getting kissed

and let's face it, vomiting. No oh for that, we've got to go to missus. Ripley gen hit at HP cod ship kill be go, thank you HP. That is not a float, that's tip O'Neill, tip O'Neil.

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Two Jews from Minnesota write interact to the greatest Irish American gangster film of all time. This is Miller's crossing.

on repeat. That an American composer had so effortlessly captured the spirit of traditional Irish music within a big, grand orchestral score just warmed my lapsed Catholic heart. So I'm not sure why it bothered me to find out that he incorporated a bit of another piece. Maybe it was because I had to dig to find out that information. I mean, I didn't have any problem with the fact that the entire movie is basically influenced by Dashal Hammett's

The Glass Key. That novel had a labyrinthine plot of double crosses and murders, and features a recurrent plot device of a hat. Hats would become a central image in Miller's Crossing, Starting with a credit sequence of a forest clearing, A hat lands in the frame long enough for the title to appear, before being buffeted away and disappearing into the wooded distance. The hat belongs to Tom Reagan played by Gabriel Byrne. He'll spend the entire movie losing and

finding the hat. Tom sums up the hat business when describing a dream he had to fe fetal Verna. The dream is the credit sequence. By the way, what are you chewing over?

eventual destruction. That path begins in the opening scene with a speech by Johnny Casper played by the late fucking great John Polito. He hit on me once at a party. I was very flattered. Now this is how you emulate the godfather, old school gangsters sitting in leather chairs in

back rooms with their goons hovering close by. Casper is the head of the up and coming Italian crime family, and he's looking to kill the bookie who's been losing him money by telling everyone about the upcoming boxing matches that he's had. Fixed problem is that that bookie, Bernie, is the brother of Verna, played with somehow simultaneous iciness and fire by Marsa gay Harden, and she is seeing

Albert Finney's Leo. I love a film that tells you everything you need to know in it's opening scene, and I think the Coens do that better than anyone. Casper knows it's Bernie that's been betraying him because Bernie lacks ethics.

and economical and rewards repeat viewings. These boys trust you'll get the gist on your first viewing, which is sometimes true. I know a few of their films I've walked away underwhelmed and only appreciated later. But this is a crackling

good gangster film. And then you realize just how intricately plotted it is only after the fact, with characters basically telling you outright what they're secretly up to, and through some of the most stylized dialogue imaginable blending plenty of pulled from the pages of pulp periodicals to some invented slang that just hangs seamlessly beside each other. One of those invented phrases is no surprise, the high hat. I'm

sick of you guys giving me the high hat. Next time you hear Tarantino is the king of dialogue, try a sampler of Miller's Crossing and Fargo, then tell me who the fucking masters are. As filmmakers, the Cohens sometimes get lumped into the Kubrick zone of cold technicians, irreverent to the point of absurdity when it comes to their characters, which is total bullshit. Every one of their films has

a beating heart at its center. It's just that their emotions aren't freighted with any hint of sentimentality, nor do they shy away from showing the more unseemly parts of their character. Tom Reagan is kind of a dick. Everyone in this film is. But if that's all you see of them, I don't know how you function in this world. Like all of their films, Miller's Crossing has zero perfunctory characters.

You get a sense that everyone has a rich life, even the grinning psychopath that Sam Raimi plays for one scene. Maybe you saw this back in the day, maybe you've never seen it. It's the one movie of theirs I never hear mentioned, and I can't figure out why. I guess if you make half a dozen perfect films, people start to get blaise. That's gonna do it, You fucking changelings,

you fucking Banshees. Enjoy your Saint Patrick's Day. I hope it's so good you can remember none of it tomorrow. So then listen to this again. Give me those downloads you can't remember it remember anyway. For Rippley Gene, I'm found them alone. We're gonna leave you with the audio equivalent of a shot in the lagger, a quote and a song, very irish, See you all next week. Stay strong, everybody.