Misunderstood Masterpieces: Legend
Posted by Will Helm on 09.05.2003
…or, Cruise + Curry = C**p
Ladies and gentlemen, I have a greatly auspicious moment here tonight (or today, depending on when you're reading this). I feel it is about time that we induct an actor into the hallowed confines of the Misunderstood Masterpieces Hall of Fame. This honor should not go to just any actor, though. This actor should be fairly well-known, well-respected, and notable in all of his performances, no matter how weak the film around it may be. It must be an actor whose respectability and austerity shine through in every single role. He may not play well with Mr. Verhoeven or Mr. Eszterhas, but that is no matter. This actor, this player, this thespian is none other than The Greatest Actor in the Universe™ (and someone whose work I enjoy immensely): Tim Curry.
Born April 19, 1946, in Cheshire, England, Timothy James Curry later studied drama at Cambridge and later at Birmingham. Nothing notable happened between those two points . . . OK, actually, I'm just too lazy to look it up and fill in the blanks. Because he is British and an actor, the natural progression to the stage and, most typically, the Royal Shakespeare Company occurred. He later moved to the Glasgow theatre scene, returning to London to star in a musical stage show known as "The Rocky Horror Show." Ooh . . . sounds scary! It must've been popular as well, because Mr. Curry reprised the role of Dr. Frank N. Furter in both New York and Los Angeles. It even must have been so popular that a film version was made, 1975's The Rocky Horror Picture Show. Haha . . . I get it; "picture show." Like a movie! How clever! Anyway, said "picture show" was a flop at the box office, a flop which, to this day, has generated at least $139,000,000 in gross sales. Perhaps it is the film's legendary cult status that has inflated that number; that is just my theory, though. Anyway, after his first foray into Hollywood, Mr. Curry returned to the stage, doing nothing cinematic of note until 1982's Annie; his villainous performance, aided by co-stars Carol Burnett and Bernadette Peters, in the eyes of this humble columnist, steals the show. One would think that a notable turn in a successful, first-run Hollywood film would lead to greater roles but, as is always true with Hollywood, one would be wrong. Mr. Curry followed up his work in the musical with 1985's Legend (the column about which you're reading right now! Yay!) and the insanely underrated Clue. While never a lead actor in any of his films since Rocky Horror, Mr. Curry has worked constantly, costarring in The Hunt for Red October, Home Alone 2, The Three Musketeers, Congo, Muppet Treasure Island, and Scary Movie 2, to name a few. In addition to his film, television, and stage work, Mr. Curry is also one of the most famous voice-over artists in Hollywood, lending his dulcet tones to cartoons such as The Wild Thornberrys and The Little Mermaid and a plethora of video games, most notably the "Gabriel Knight" series. He is also, due to his ability to be so damned good no matter how bad the film around him is (leading Entertainment Weekly magazine to recently mention his performance in Legend as proof of that), The Greatest Actor in the Universe™ and should be referred to as such from this point forth. Welcome to the Hall of Fame, Mr. Curry, with all honors and benefits therein.
Now, on to the film . . . 1985's Legend should be good. Its director is one of the most visionary at the time: Ridley Scott. It has a hot young lead actor just coming into his own in Hollywood by the name of Tom Cruise. And it has a killer all-synthesizer soundtrack by Tangerine Dream. OK, so I exaggerated that last point. There is no such thing as a "killer all-synthesizer soundtrack" and there never will be, no matter what John Tesh, Yanni, or John Carpenter may tell you. "Killer" and "synthesizer" are two words that should never go together, unless there's a serial murderer whose weapon of choice is an old Casio keyboard. Or not. Oh, and has anyone else noticed just how good Tom Cruise is at making sure that he works with all the great directors? Let's see . . . there's been Franco Zefferelli (Endless Love), Francis Ford Coppola (The Outsiders), the aforementioned Ridley Scott, Martin Scorsese (The Color of Money), Barry Levinson (Rain Man), Oliver Stone (Born on the Fourth of July), Ron Howard (Far and Away), Rob Reiner (A Few Good Men), Sydney Pollack (The Firm), Brian De Palma (Mission: Impossible), Cameron Crowe (Jerry Maguire, Vanilla Sky), Stanley Kubrick (I think you know which one!), Paul Thomas Anderson (Magnolia), John Woo (Mission: Impossible 2), Steven Spielberg (Minority Report), and he's currently working on Collateral with Michael Mann. Whew! If you ever want an example of power in Hollywood, there's your evidence right there. Who's left? Lucas, Tarentino, Burton, Smith, Lee, Singer . . . but not many more. And, oddly enough, Cruise had some of his most success with Ridley Scott's populist-filmmaker brother Tony, in Top Gun and Days of Thunder. Go figure.
And now, finally, on to the movie . . . which begins with the government-mandated scroll explaining everything that's going on in the film we're about to watch. It's just that damned "Star Wars effect" again. This is the main reason why I don't like most sci-fi and fantasy movies; they all seem to feel the need to emulate something from Star Wars instead of doing something new. That's probably one of the reasons why the Matrix and Lord of the Rings series have been so successful: they've innovated. Then again, in Hollywood, "innovation" is a frightening concept. Think about that next time you sit down to watch Rocky V. Anyway, the text reads like some kind of new age Book of Genesis, talking all about unicorns and faeries and the ilk. Damned hippies. And, of course, Tangerine Dream provides the score, because everyone loves fake pan flutes. Oh, and I wonder if, somewhere out there, there's a band called Nectarine Nightmare that plays punk covers of Tangerine Dream songs. Or not. When the film actually DOES begin, an asthmatic goblin skulks through the forest. Elsewhere, someone is being tortured by husky gimps in what appears to be a foundry. The Lord of Darkness (Curry), while overseeing the torture, gives a soliloquy. That's probably one of the reasons why Tim Curry's performance in this film is just so notable: he's so damned regal and Shakespearean, like a sort of overly made-up Macbeth, rather than some two-bit hack villain. Our horned antagonist explains to the consumptive goblin, Blix (Alice Playten), that he's troubled because there are unicorns back in the forest. I hate it when that happens . . . you have to call an exterminator and they cost a fortune for something like that!
In said forest, Princess Lily (Mia Sara . . . you know her better as Sloane Peterson from Ferris Bueller's Day Off) frolics while Blix watches and recites bad poetry. Kind of like Charlie Sheen . . . who was ALSO in Ferris Bueller's Day Off. Ah, Hollywood! You're just so crafty like that! Speaking of Hollywood, one would think that, with a notable performance in a seminal ‘80s movie, that Ms. Sara's career would have skyrocketed from there . . . but, as always, one would be wrong. She faded away into the depths of direct-to-video erotic thrillers and got a breast job done as well. Listen ladies, take it from me . . . when you go to your local plastic surgeon to get yourself enhanced, please do not try to make C-cups out of what are currently A-cups. They'll just end up looking like someone attached two grapefruit halves to your ribcage, and (at least to most people, I would assume) that isn't attractive. This misogynistic message has been brought to you by Dow Chemical and viewers like you. Ms. Sara was last seen on the short-lived superhero series Birds of Prey and on the VH1 series We Love the ‘80s. Back in the film world, Lily breaks into a cottage where she eats some cookies and gets entranced by a clock . . . for no particular reason. Lily makes small talk with the cottage's owner, Nell (Tina Martin), because, it seems, that she enjoys slumming with the plebes. I know that there's a whole Peter the Great precedent and noblesse oblige and all that, but it always seemed a bit condescending to me, the bourgeois mixing with the proletariat like that. Karl Marx would NOT be proud.
It seems that there's an ulterior motive to Lily's gamboling ways, as she's in search of her crush, an earthy orphan by the name of Jack (Cruise). I guess that must be like the fairy tale equivalent of dating the pool boy. The fanged Jack (I swear it, he has fangs!) takes Lily through the enchanted woods to see a pair of unicorns watering themselves. It seems that they are only attracted to innocence; no word on if that includes technical virginity as well. Unicorns, it turns out, have no language as "they express only love and laughter." Well, so does marijuana. Damned hippies again. Oh, and for being an enchanted forest and all, there sure are a lot of bugs flying around . . . maybe Darkness should call that exterminator after all. Oh, OK, Blix is there, reciting more bad poetry and shooting a unicorn with a blowgun when Lily distracts it with her innocence. Ted Nugent would be proud. I'm surprised he doesn't have any unicorns mounted on his walls. Jack gets all hoity-toity because Lily touched the unicorn; he's probably just frustrated and jealous, seeing as Lily is "innocent" and all. Lily throws away her ring and Jack chases after it, while the unicorns run through the forest and make dolphin noises.
Moments later, it begins spontaneously raining . . . and snowing flower petals as Blix lops off the wounded unicorn's horn. Then a freak blizzard rolls in, freezing over the lake into which Jack had jumped after the ring. Sheesh . . . remind me never to become a meteorologist in fairy-tale land! While celebrating the un-horning of the unicorn, Blix abuses his henchmen, which has to be yet another union grievance in the making. Elsewhere, Lily has pangs of guilt for being an ignorant patsy, much like Lee Harvey Oswald, and everyone runs aimlessly through the forest. Meanwhile, a sleeping Jack is awoken by a talking light bulb on a string. And then Puck shows up! Great . . . so now it's a new age production of A Midsummer Night's Dream. Damned hippies. Oh, wait; his name is just "Gump" (David Bennent/Alice Playten). Funny . . . he doesn't look like Tom Hanks. Gump's friends Screwball (Billy Barty) and Brown Tom (Cork Hubbert) show up, Jack explains the situation, and they all drink. Yeah, if I were partially responsible for the demise of a fictitious creature, I'd drink too. After the toast, the gang starts wandering about while Jack yells "Lily!" at random intervals. They find the deceased unicorn and Jack gets all "sensitive" ("Jack" is very nearly the same as "Jake") and asks the living unicorn for forgiveness. Um, perhaps they should bury the dead one instead; you don't want the little forest creatures getting cholera or anything like that!
It is decided that Jack is to be the designated champion of the forest, so Gump sends him to get some weapons. Maybe he'll come back with a "longsword +3" or some "arrows of severe discomfort" or something. Jack is joined on his quest by Oona the psychotic faerie (Annabelle Lanyon), who was once just a merry light on a string. She, not surprisingly, immediately hits on Jack, because he's so rugged and manly. Elsewhere, there's some goblin-inspired slapstick going on, until Blix recites more terrible poetry and the Lord of Darkness shows up to put a stop to the literary heresy. He puts Blix in his place and then makes off with the unicorn horn, proving that it is damned good to be the Lord of Darkness. The now-dejected goblins then overcome a drunken gnome and kidnap Lily and the surviving unicorn. I hate it when that happens!
Somewhere in a swamp, Jack and the gang are lewdly accosted by a hag named Meg Mucklebones (Robert Picardo . . . yeah, the doctor from Star Trek: Voyager). Gee, it's just like walking through Wal-Mart, although there you're not allowed to behead the greeter as Jack does with Meg. Our heroes then take a ride down a very dry waterslide . . . I guess the moose outside forgot to tell them that the park was closed. They end up in a rather roomy jail cell and meet up with an imprisoned faerie. In an attempt to satiate her boredom, Oona the loony faerie impersonates Lily, but Jack spurns her advances. I guess there won't be any enchanted conjugal visits then. Oona then amuses herself by helping the crew escape the cell, only to enter an evil sauna! Ooh, frightening! In another room of the compound, we learn, via another soliloquy, that Lily's presence makes Darkness even more horny that he already is . . . and that's pretty damned horny, what with the protrusions jutting jauntily from his forehead. Speaking of Lily, she's running through the castle and is being followed by Oona the mentally unstable faerie. While a bunch of heavy-metal lead singers ambush Jack and Gump, Lily runs into a room and is instantly distracted by a gleaming pile of jewelry and such. Humph . . . typical girl. She opens up a fancy, shiny box; picks up a necklace; and then a puppet shows up and starts dancing. Yeah, I don't get it either. And then, to no one's surprise, Lily starts dancing with the puppet and then somehow turns into a Goth chick! Whatever, movie . . . whatever.
Now that Lily isn't so innocent anymore (Britney Spears would be proud!), Darkness shows up. It seems that now he and Lily are engaged! Oops . . . poor Jack. At least Darkness has some class and is a gentleman about the whole situation. Say what you will, but the cloven-hoofed nemesis is one suave guy. Sadly, he isn't too bright, as he suffers a bout of "villainous logorrhea" by gloating and revealing his weakness to sunlight. Meanwhile, Jack, eavesdropping on the entire scenario, recalls Lily's science class and the awesome power of reflective surfaces. Hmm . . . I never knew Jack had a Ph.D. in optics. Jack and his merry band of pranksters go back down to the dungeon, where they play Frisbee with some shields or platters or something. Of course, just when they're about to get every platter without making a sound, they screw up and wake up the sleeping gimps. As is the case with fantasy movies, some highly choreographed fighting breaks out and the heroes come out on top. A little later, Screwball climbs up a tunnel as I ponder whether or not Freudian imagery applies to faeries.
Back inside the fortress, Darkness, the insufferable romantic that he is, has a dinner date with Goth Lily. Unfortunately, the horned one isn't that good at making the small talk; his conversations tend to be a little too deep for first date chitchat. I guess it's his propensity for soliloquies again . . . put another person into the mix and his ability to talk is nullified. He's still quite a charmer, though, and a good date. He's open-minded and a good listener. I bet he even likes long walks on the beach, as long as it's at night. Either that or he needs SPF infinity sunscreen. As he is passionate and romantic, Lily finally gives in and agrees to marry him if, and only if, she is allowed to kill the remaining unicorn. To celebrate, Darkness recites some lines from the new age Book of Genesis and I take a moment to blame the hippies yet again. Oh, and the French. I'm sure they're involved too. Or it just might be my instinct that Darkness' hormones might be getting the better of him and clouding his judgement. He is a very horny embodiment of evil, after all. Literally and figuratively.
Down in the dungeons where the unicorn is chained, Darkness officiates his own wedding while Jack and Gump look on, bows cocked and drawn. Just when all hope is lost, Lily does what any no-longer-innocent girl would do and screws over her husband to be, setting the unicorn free. Poor Darkness. Left all alone at the altar like that. Or the sacrificial pile of hay, as it were. Jack then gets discovered and a greatly enraged Darkness charges, his horns swaying with every stride as if they were attached to his forehead with latex rubber. As is to be expected, more highly choreographed fighting ensues, but this time with the added bonus of pyrotechnics. Ah, there's nothing like added value. Jack triumphs when he impales Darkness with the severed unicorn horn and then his high school science project reflects the sunlight, sunlight which brings a gale force wind that can blow down giant stone doors, into the room. The awesome power of photon bombardment shoots Darkness into space, where he explodes into a couple of stars. How anticlimactic!
An undefined period of time later, Jack retrieves Lily's ring from the bottom of the no-longer-frozen pond while awful ‘80s synth-pop plays in the background. The love of Jack wakes Lily from her trance, but I have to wonder how she got changed out of her Goth outfit and back into her original costume. I hope Jack didn't take any liberties while Lily was unconscious! Dirty Jack! Someone or other reattaches the dead unicorn's horn, reanimating the mythical beast . . . and there was much rejoicing. Jack, Lily, Gump, and the rest of the gang bid each other a fond farewell as they live happily ever after in a world that looks like a fantasy geek's T-shirt. Whoopee.
You know, this is a movie of extremes . . . extreme good and extreme bad. On the bad side, it's terribly pretentious and overdone. The film feels like it's trying to be profound and that it has a message but, like many other movies, it just doesn't know how to express that message best. So instead you get a world where things happen for no reason other than the fact that they had money lying around and felt like using it. Just once I'd love to see a well-made movie that was significantly under budget. On the good side, however, is that it's short; it clocks in at around 90 minutes, so there's not much pretentiousness to sit through. (Plus, why do you think I had to have so much introductory material this time?) Back on the bad side, Tom Cruise is just awful. He has barely any range of emotion and bumbles his way clumsily through the film. You can tell he's young and green because, at times, it looks like he has no idea what he's doing or that he's in over his head. Conversely, on the good side, Tim Curry OWNS this movie in the role of the Lord of Darkness. As I mentioned before, he's not just an evil villain but a tortured and lonely soul. It's that Shakespearean aspect Curry brings to the performance. Darkness has a hard time being evil . . . he just wants to fall in love with a Goth girl and kill some unicorns. Is that so wrong? Yeah, I guess it is. Nonetheless, it is still a great performance, and one worthy of a Hall of Fame member. Congratulations, Mr. Curry, and welcome.
