I've written about Rob Reiner before (most recently here). He directed a run of classic movies from 1984 to 1992 that wasn't just the best of his day but rivaled similar runs by all-time greats Buster Keaton, Alfred Hitchcock, Howard Hawks and Billy Wilder.
In case you've forgotten, I'll repeat the list: This Is Spinal Tap, Stand By Me, The Princess Bride, When Harry Met Sally, Misery and A Few Good Men.
In the course of that run, he made stars of River Phoenix, Meg Ryan and Kathy Bates (who won an Oscar as James Caan's biggest fan); turned the mockumentary up to eleven, establishing a beloved comedy genre in the process; gave us Jack Nicholson's best known catchphrase ("You can't handle the truth!"); and most importantly, taught women everywhere how to fake an orgasm (Oh, no, sorry — I've just been informed they've been doing that since the beginning of time).
Throw in The Sure Thing (1985), a very funny screwball rom-com that put John Cusack on the map, and you can say Reiner's movies helped shape everything that came after.
The son of comedy legend Carl Reiner, he was also a very good comedic actor in his own right. On the groundbreaking comedy All in the Family, his performance as Mike Stivic — a.k.a. the earnest, sometimes misguided but always funny "Meathead" — twice earned him a Primetime Emmy.
Maybe of more significance, Reiner, with his comic foil Archie Bunker (the great Carroll O'Connor), helped left-wing and right-wing America carry on a conversation at a particularly fraught moment in our history.
If only there were such a cultural meeting place these days! But alas, times change and we're lucky now if we can agree on the day of the week much less things that matter.
Finally, on a personal note, Rob Reiner taught me how to put on my shoes — one foot at a time, of course, not like the rest of you animals, with your sock and a sock and a shoe and a shoe.
Saw that as a kid fifty-plus years ago and I've been walking in Rob Reiner's footsteps, so to speak, ever since.
For that, and for all those movies I still watch and love, thank you, Mr. Reiner. You will be missed.
Lot of good choices for best picture in 1992. The Academy went with Clint Eastwood's classic Western, Unforgiven, and who am I to blow against the wind?
Other choices include Quentin Tarantino's first feature, Reservoir Dogs; Merchant and Ivory's Howards End (note: no apostrophe!) which won Emma Thompson an Oscar; and Spike Lee's Malcolm X which should have won Denzel Washington an Oscar — it's the best performance of his illustrious career.
I'm also a fan of Army of Darkness, the hilarious sci-fi horror cult comedy starring Bruce Campbell's chin; A Few Good Men which pits Tom Cruise and Jack Nicholson in a courtroom battle worthy of Perry Mason; The Last of the Mohicans, an action-adventure flick so exciting it might mislead you into thinking James Fenimore Cooper can write (he can't); and Robin Williams going manically nuts as the genie in Disney's Aladdin.
But don't sleep on Enchanted April, a quiet comedy of manners about four completely incompatible women who flee rainy 1930s London for a vacation in sunny Italy and find something they've forgotten existed — happiness. A personal favorite.
Have at it.
My choices are noted with a ★. A tie is indicated with a ✪. Historical Oscar winners are noted with a ✔. Best foreign-language picture winners are noted with an ƒ. A historical winner who won in a different category is noted with a ✱.
My choices are noted with a ★. Historical Oscar winners are noted with a ✔.
I promised myself I would never do this — a do-over, in this case, the supporting actress category in 1987. Really, not only should I have recognized Mary Stuart Masterson for her iconic performance in John Hughes's Some Kind of Wonderful, she should have won.
My only excuse is that I pre-blogged the entire 1980s in the week before my surgery back in April and I made a few mistakes. Some I caught before they went live; this one I missed. But if I don't change it, the cancer wins. And I'll be damned if I'll let the Big C win ...
Trying to harness violence to serve an end other than violence itself is like relying on a mad dog to protect your property—you're more likely to get bitten yourself.
Named for Katie-Bar-The-Door, the Katies are "alternate Oscars"—who should have been nominated, who should have won—but really they're just an excuse to write a history of the movies from the Silent Era to the present day.
To see a list of nominees and winners by decade, as well as links to my essays about them, click the highlighted links:
Remember: There are no wrong answers, only movies you haven't seen yet.
The Silent Oscars
And don't forget to check out the Silent Oscars—my year-by-year choices for best picture, director and all four acting categories for the pre-Oscar years, 1902-1927.
Look at me—Joe College, with a touch of arthritis. Are my eyes really brown? Uh, no, they're green. Would we have the nerve to dive into the icy water and save a person from drowning? That's a key question. I, of course, can't swim, so I never have to face it. Say, haven't you anything better to do than to keep popping in here early every morning and asking a lot of fool questions?
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