My Heroes Have Always Been Funny
Rancho Deluxe (1975)
directed by Frank Perry
rating: 2 out of 5 cravats
watched instantly on Netflix
I haven’t read any Thomas McGuane, but his screenplay for Rancho Deluxe sounds like a lament for a world that doesn’t really exist, and never did, padded out with a few jokes and the occasional group romp in the hay. It would be better if the jokes were front and center, and the eulogy an afterthought, and also if the father/son issues weren’t there at all. I can’t accept Sam Waterston as an Indian no matter how far down on his head he wears his hat, and the idea that “men’s men” like McGuane would even try to pass it off seems silly.
Time was, I'd argue that if Jimmy Buffett died after A White Sport Coat and a Pink Crustacean, people like me – alright, just me - would embrace songs like “Grapefruit-Juicy Fruit“ for the same reasons "we" listen to Jerry Jeff Walker. But no, Rancho Deluxe is the middle of 1975, and here’s Buffett with a mustache, mugging like his manic Yacht Rock caricature. He doesn't seem any less at home than any of the actresses, who play drunks or professionals, and if a Harry Dean Stanton/Richard Bright pairing as Curt and Burt, respectively, can't save this Livingston crowd from itself, then it's goodbye to rural ennui and hello suburban encroachment.
directed by Frank Perry
rating: 2 out of 5 cravats
watched instantly on Netflix
I haven’t read any Thomas McGuane, but his screenplay for Rancho Deluxe sounds like a lament for a world that doesn’t really exist, and never did, padded out with a few jokes and the occasional group romp in the hay. It would be better if the jokes were front and center, and the eulogy an afterthought, and also if the father/son issues weren’t there at all. I can’t accept Sam Waterston as an Indian no matter how far down on his head he wears his hat, and the idea that “men’s men” like McGuane would even try to pass it off seems silly.
Time was, I'd argue that if Jimmy Buffett died after A White Sport Coat and a Pink Crustacean, people like me – alright, just me - would embrace songs like “Grapefruit-Juicy Fruit“ for the same reasons "we" listen to Jerry Jeff Walker. But no, Rancho Deluxe is the middle of 1975, and here’s Buffett with a mustache, mugging like his manic Yacht Rock caricature. He doesn't seem any less at home than any of the actresses, who play drunks or professionals, and if a Harry Dean Stanton/Richard Bright pairing as Curt and Burt, respectively, can't save this Livingston crowd from itself, then it's goodbye to rural ennui and hello suburban encroachment.
posted by NPK at 5:34 PM
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