Tag Archives: Gary Busey

Editorials

WHY FATHER’S DAY IS ABOUT AN UNCLE I NEVER HAD

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I don’t remember my father ever saying I love you. What I do recall were summers in Iowa. Struggling with the weight of hay bales to feed the horses and being told that I should be stronger for my age. Watching him punch one of those Belgians in the head because they weren’t cooperating with what he wanted them to do. The morning we left one year, I had made him a gift but when the time came to part, he was too tired to get up, muttered “that’s nice, thanks. See you next time” and rolled over to go to back to sleep.

I also remember the drinking and verbal abuse. A fragile man so angry at his own shortcomings that he felt it necessary to intimidate his wife and children. I was 12 the last time I was in the same room with him. I made it clear the day would come when I was his size — and even more clear how much I was looking forward to that day.

I didn’t go to his funeral but am grateful to my father for one thing: showing me that who I wanted to be was the opposite of who he was.

Come to think of it, I’m grateful for two things.

I dove into horror at a very young age because I needed to escape into a world where I felt seen. Long before those dreaded summers in Iowa, were bi-weekly weekend visits when my father still lived in the same city as my mother. I’d endure remarks about my strength or speed, questions about why I wasn’t like my cousins, or anger about me spending most of the weekend in my room away from him. I only wanted to finish my work in the yard so I could head to the video store and pick up as many FRIDAY THE 13TH movies as my meager weekend allowance allowed.

I eventually explored non-FRIDAY avenues. Along the way I discovered SILVER BULLET (1985) and had an awakening. I had no idea who Gary Busey was, but ever since “another lovely night at sister Nan’s”, Uncle Red has been scorched into my memory.

Yes, he was an alcoholic and yes, he made decisions that were more about being the cool uncle than a responsible adult because who the hell buys their nephew a bag of fireworks to shoot off alone, in the middle of the night, when there is an active killer in town?

That’s kind of a huge red flag that I’m not allowed to ignore, but here’s my point: Uncle Red tried.

It was Uncle Red who said there was more to Marty than him not being able to walk. Uncle Red was the one who reminded Marty that no shithead can stop the good guys. Uncle Red was the one who walked into the sheriff’s office and shared a story about “this blue” and Reverend Werewolf. Uncle Red marched into a gun store with a concocted story about the Lone Ranger and asked for a silver bullet. And Uncle Red bought and paid for a romantic trip for two to New York so that he could clear his sister and brother-in-law out and be in the house to protect his niece and nephew during the full moon.

Uncle Red may not have always made the safest decisions, but he tried. He was there when it mattered. He believed in Marty and Jane when no one else would. And he fought for them.

Hell, Uncle Red built the Silver Bullet for Marty, not because it was the safest option–because it most certainly was not–but so that Marty had something he felt good about and was proud of. “I built that for you because I love you. Right from my heart.”

After Marty took said Silver Bullet–less a wheelchair than a three-wheeled motorcycle–out for a test run, Uncle Red warned Marty not to tell his mother how fast it was, to which his nephew responded, “ya know, I don’t get you.”

Uncle Red simply said “I know you don’t.”

But I did. And I do.

And I’m positive there are many of you reading these words for whom it resonates, as well.

While it was easy to see why Uncle Red’s sister was apprehensive about his influence on her son, it was just as easy to see that Uncle Red wanted Marty and Jane to be confident and happy, and never missed an opportunity to let them know that they could be more than he ever was.

This Father’s Day, I’m not an alcoholic or capable of building anything for which one may or may not need a pilot’s license — but like Uncle Red, I show up for the people I love — the polar opposite of my father.

And I did win a subscription to Popular Mechanics.

Lists

QUINTESSENTIAL QUINTUPLETS: WHY ‘THE FIRM’ IS HORROR’S BEST ENSEMBLE EVER

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Just hear me out.

Before we begin, however, I acknowledge this method could be applied to any number of films and probably work just as well, but THE FIRM (1993) is my favorite Tom Cruise movie and after rattling around in my head for years, it’s nice to finally put these thoughts to paper.

If you’re reading this, I assume you know THE FIRM, but here’s a brief synopsis in case: Mitch McDeere (Cruise), an eager young attorney fresh off graduation from Harvard, chooses a small law firm out of Memphis, Tennessee from a seemingly endless line of suitors only to discover that when something seems too good to be true…

Oh, and a quick thought on the ranking breakdown: roles in THE FIRM was weighed more heavily than their contributions to the horror genre. If you wonder why Cruise is absent despite INTERVIEW WITH THE VAMPIRE (1994) and LEGEND (1985), or why Holly Hunter was excluded with titles like THE BURNING (1981) and COPYCAT (1995) under her belt and knowing good and damn well that Tammy Hemphill is THE FIRM’s undeniable MVP — well, hopefully you’ll understand more after reading the article. QUICK CLUE: with this writer, a certain sci-fi television series will always win a coin flip).

Now, shall we join Bendini, Lambert & Locke for a little barbeque?

5 — JERRY HARDIN as ROYCE McKNIGHT

The least sinister or shady (insert whichever adjective you prefer that begins with the letter “S” here) amongst the firm’s hierarchy, the reality is that “any lawyer worth that offer” should’ve had Mitch sniffing things out when Hardin said he’d bribed a clerk in the Harvard law office so he could add 20 percent to MiDeere’s tender. Alas, that’s not what we’re here for. Hardin appeared in 11 episodes of THE X-FILES as the mysterious Deep Throat, who provided Agent Mulder (David Duchovny) cryptic information in the early stages of a show that, if you’re of a certain age, was without question appointment viewing.

4 — TOBIN BELL as THE NORDIC MAN

Asking “why are you asking questions about dead lawyers” whilst brandishing a silencer and wagging a finger like a disapproving Dikembe Mutombo would send a shiver down the spine of the most stoic among us, but let’s get down to brass tacks. Look, the Nordic Man’s albino ass was absolutely terrifying, but as discussed in the open — it’s about the heft of character from THE FIRM — so as a trigger man, Tobin lands (rather appropriately) in the clean-up spot. Bell is certainly the heaviest-hitter on this list as the anchor for one of horror’s goliaths. Beginning with the OG in 2004, Bell has starred in the dual role of Jigsaw / John Kramer in eight of the SAW franchise’s nine films to date and is reportedly tied to the tenth installment due this October. Because, if you’ll recall, “if it’s Halloween, it must be SAW”.

3 — HAL HOLBROOK as OLIVER LAMBERT

At first glance, Holbrook cut quite a father figure, one that held sway with McDeere, but it didn’t take long for Mitch to learn that Lambert was behind the wheel of a deep, dark motor vee-hick-uhl chase that resulted in crash and burn for four lawyers–none of them over the age of 45–in less than ten years. Holbrook was nominated for an Oscar (INTO THE WILD, 2007) and his trophy case required Emmy and Tony Awards be dusted, but we’re going to focus on a pair of performances where you wouldn’t have expected him to be the bad guy: Father Malone in John Carpenter’s THE FOG (1980) and Henry Northrup in George A. Romero’s CREEPSHOW (1982). Holbrook just had a gentle way about him, and much like his role in THE FIRM, so why would you even consider this dude was up to no good? Well, some menacing mariners and Fluffified Adrienne Barbeau would like a word.

2 — GARY BUSEY as EDDIE LOMAX

As our fearless leader Patti Pauley often points out, Gary Busey wrestled a godddamn werewolf. Do me a favor and read that out loud again, Maybe three times. But before I forget, Busey played a seedy private detective who had done time with Mitch’s brother Ray (it was so hard to leave David Strathairn off this list because DOLORES CLAIBORNE, 1995). Busey only got two scenes, but made the most of them, and brought Mitch and Tammy (Hunter) together, which if we’re honest, was why Mitch’s “more of a way through” succeeded in the first place. That said, back to wrestling a werewolf. Busey’s Uncle Red keeps us coming back to SILVER BULLET (1985). The one-liners — “I feel like a virgin on prom night” — never get old and though he took a bit of convincing, Red never lost faith in his niece and nephew when he easily could have just buried himself in a bottle of booze — which as I believe you do recall — Uncle Red was very good at. And if we could get back to wrasslin’ for the briefest of moments? It took a lot for me to rank anyone above Busey. I just needed to say that.

1 — WILFORD BRIMLEY as BILL DEVASHER

Even if Brimley had only been provided the opportunity to appear in the scene featured in the GIF above, he would have nailed the role of the firm’s frightening head of security. Not-so veiled threats and that glance before asking a question that required no answer. Don’t, for a single, solitary moment, allow yourself to believe that a dude who once peddled oatmeal (and battled diabeetus) couldn’t scare the ever-loving shit out of you. When it comes to Wil’s horror pedigree, we needn’t look further than Outpost 31. As Blair in John Carpenter’s THE THING (1982), Brimley again made the most of few words: “how long were you alone with that dog?”, “that thing wanted to be us!” and “I said watch Clark and watch him close.” The good doctor not only believed in the voodoo bullshit–but to bring the Quaker Oats full circle–knew sabotaging his own crew was the right thing to do. Brimley ripped the spotlight away from superstars like Cruise and Kurt Russell in both roles and stands atop the medal podium for his efforts.

HONORABLE MENTION — PAUL SORVINO as TOMMIE MOROLTO (with apologies to Ed Harris’ dance routine from CREEPSHOW)

“Avery, who’s in Chicago?” I’ll tell you who — a legend who gave us “we’re under attack by a popular dessert!”(THE STUFF, 1985) and knock-you-on-your-ass roles like Rotti Largo in REPO! THE GENETIC OPERA (2008). There was zero chance — ZERO — this scene didn’t make the cut.

Agree? Disagree? Have another non-horror movie in mind with a stellar spooky cast? Hell, shoot us ideas on topics you’d like to see tackled in this Quintessential Quintuplets series. Sound off in the comments and we’ll see you next week!

PREVIOUS QUINTUPLETS

MICHAEL MYERS (RIP George P. Wilbur)

CARPENTER CHARACTERS

Editorials, Horror Nostalgia

KENT BROADHURST ELEVATED ‘SILVER BULLET’ FROM CAMP TO CLASSIC

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It’s a phenomenon that has existed since the advent of cinema. A day player walks onto a set and so dominates a scene that it comes to define the picture.

Thirty-six years ago–October 11, 1985–with Corey Haim on the cusp of becoming a household name and Gary Busey at the height of his stardom (just six years removed from a Best Actor nomination), it was a character actor from St. Louis, Missouri who held audiences rapt for 103 beautifully agonized seconds.

SILVER BULLET was an adaptation of Stephen King’s Cycle of the Werewolf novella that told the tale of a lycanthrope terrorizing the town of Tarker’s Mills, and the young, wheelchair-bound boy (Haim) trying to stop him.

Too often, werewolf movies focus on carnage and transformation scenes, and as a result fail to connect with viewers on a personal level, but SILVER BULLET was not most werewolf movies.

When Marty’s best friend was torn apart by the beast, King (who also penned the screenplay) and first-time director Daniel Attias elected to make said murder more than a blip on the body county radar and instead used it as the vehicle that would propel the rest of the film.

Angry townsfolk, at that point convinced that the culprit in the untimely and brutal deaths of their neighbors and friends was a psycho wandering the woods, assembled at the local watering hole to devise a plan to put a stop to the unseen monster terrorizing their home. They were planning private justice.

The appetizer to Kent Broadhurst’s game-changing main course.

When Sheriff Haller (Terry O’Quinn) stormed into Owen’s Bar to order the throng back to their homes, local loudmouth Andy Fairton (the ever reliable Bill Smitrovich), upset that he’d been defeated by Haller in a recent election for the constable position, attempted to discredit the lead lawman with the proclamation that Haller “couldn’t catch a cold.”

Pub owner Owen Knopfler (Lawrence Tierney) immediately sniped “shut up, Andy” but Fairton’s “don’t tell me to shut up” was interrupted by an off-camera, almost whispered, “Yes. Shut up.” Everything came to a screeching halt as that camera panned, and Broadhurst assumed center stage.

Portraying Herb Kincaid, the father of Marty’s slain friend Brady (Joe Wright), Broadhurst stepped to the fore and shared that he’d just come from his son’s funeral. Haller quickly moved toward Kincaid in an ill-conceived attempt to comfort him with “I know how upset, how grief-stricken you must be.”

Orbs reddened from mourning, Kincaid responded “upset? Grief-stricken? You don’t know what those words mean.”

When Haller acknowledges that he knew that Kincaid’s son had been torn to pieces, Broadhurst pulled a crime scene photo from within his jacket and offered a glimpse to the would-be militia, roaring “my son was torn to pieces!” A cut to the armed and bundled inhabitants of Owen’s Bar was all of us: heartbroken and incapable of response, because what do you say–what can you say–to a parent who so gruesomely lost a child?

Broadhurst refocused his simmering sorrow upon Haller, and with exhausted eyes wondered aloud “and you come in here and talk to these men about private justice?” before sneering “you dare to do that?”

At that point, it was Quint waxing Indianapolis a decade later: every screening room in the country where SILVER BULLET was playing sat tomb silent.

“Why don’t you go out to Harmony Hill,” a brief pause allowed a disgusted snarl to form on Kincaid’s face at the officer’s ineffective investigation before he forced himself to say his name, “Sheriff Haller, and dig up what’s left of my boy Brady, and explain to him about private justice.

Would you wanna do that?!”

Though the interval between that query and “as for me, I’m gonna go out and hunt up a little private justice” was but mere seconds, it hung in the air for what felt an hour, because Broadhurst’s somber-turned-seething speech made us believe that the anguish behind it was authentic.

In that moment, SILVER BULLET was no longer a goofy werewolf movie where gore and mind-boggling practical effects were the highlights, but a story about loss and fear and pain, because Broadhurst communicated quite clearly that deaths in this film were not entertaining, they were excruciating.

It was an execution that any actor would be proud to call their own. An entire career of stage and screen work culminated in less than two minutes that opened the door for the very human performances to come from Busey and Robin Groves and Megan Follows.

You can have the transformation from AN AMERICAN WEREWOLF (1981), I’ll take a minute and forty-three seconds of Kent Broadhurst every time out of the gate and regret nothing.

(Broadhurst begins at 1:17)