Let's go back to the 1970s, the time of our relative youth, to see whether two hilarious movies still hold up.
SLAP SHOT (1977) (A) - Paul Newman did down-and-out particularly well -- see, Exhibit A, "The Verdict" -- and here he is Reg Dunlop, the player-coach of a lousy minor-league hockey team that is on the brink of folding. The humor is quick and dark and bawdy as hell.
Like the local Pennsylvania steel mill, the Charlestown Chiefs' days are numbered, and they are getting no help from the sleazy team president, Joe McGrath (a grouchy Strother Martin), who is cutting deals to arrange a fire sale. His bargain-basement mind-set results in three childish young players joining the team -- they are the Hanson brothers, and their specialty is violence over stick-handling. Soon, the team descends into cheap thuggery -- which leads to wins and revives the fan base.
One player -- college boy Ned Braden (Michael Ontkean) -- will have none of it. Ned is also having problems at home, dealing with a drunken and unfulfilled spouse (Lindsay Crouse). Reg, meantime, still pines for his ex, Francine (Jennifer Warren), while having occasional romps with other players' wives (one of them (played by Melinda Dillon) now a lesbian, to her ex's chagrin).
The script by Nancy Dowd ("Coming Home," "North Dallas Forty") has a precision and rhythm that evokes the vulgarity of minor-league sports in that long-ago era. And it's full of one-liners that I still recite 45 years later ("Down by the pool ...."; "Who owns the team ..."; "I'm listening to the fucking song!").
Newman reteams with director George Roy Hill ("Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid," "The Sting"), and the film has a cozy lived-in feel to it, that '70s drift, a middle-age spread. There's a melancholy heart to this ribald rip-snorter that would set the table for the likes of "North Dallas Forty" and "Major League."
THE IN-LAWS (1979) (A-minus) - Ah, the joy of Peter Falk and Alan Arkin romping around Manhattan and Central America in the service of screwball comedy. It's a comedy team for the ages.
With a sharp, vaudevillian script by Andrew Bergman ("Blazing Saddles" and "Fletch"), we follow Falk's Vince Ricardo, an apparently rogue CIA agent, and Arkin's Sheldon Kornpett, a mild-mannered dentist, who gets caught up in Vince's investigation of an international counterfeiting scheme. With just days to go until their children get married, Sheldon is forever getting shot at in service to Vince's hare-brained scheme, as they eventually end up in front of a firing squad loyal to a nutball dictator (Richard Libertini, spot-on looney-toons).
It's a close match between Falk's one-liners and Arkin's facial reactions for comedy honors here. Some of it is downright silly (Libertini's general wields a Senor Wences hand-puppet to greet his guests), but at other times, we are treated to some classic car chases (one, memorably, has Falk driving in reverse), courtesy of journeyman director Arthur Hiller ("The Out-of-Towners," "Love Story," "Silver Streak"). When in doubt, he cuts to another of Arkin's deadpan looks to drive a joke home.
The supporting cast has a ball, too -- Ed Begley Jr. as Vince's handler at the Agency; Nancy Dussault and Arlene Golonka as the wives; James Hong as the proprietor of the seat-of-the-pants Wong Airlines; a young David Paymer as a cabdriver. Hiller orchestrates Bergman's screenplay smoothly, right up until the final twist, as all the pieces finally fall into place.
The film shows its age in spots. It certainly depicts a simpler, cornier era. But its charms still come through, and its belly laughs endure.
BONUS TRACK
During the National Anthem, a twitchy referee tries to lay down the law with the Hanson brothers after a bloody pre-game melee:
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