OscarDid you ever have one of those days, where you are getting ready for a big meeting with the bank, and your accountant wakes you up to ask for a raise, leading into a request to marry your daughter, all while confessing that he's been embezzling from you; and then your daughter tells you that she's pregnant (she's not) so she can be with the man she loves and get away from living under your thumb, only it's not the same guy as your accountant who she loves, but some ex-chauffer; and your maid quits and inadvertently absconds with the money your accountant stole from you...all happening before noon? No? Well, such is the life for an erstwhile gangster named Angelo "Snaps" Provolone (Sylvester Stallone).
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Oscar is a screwball comedy directed by John Landis in the vein of 1930s-era movies like My Man Godfrey. It deals with the aforementioned Angelo pledging to "go straight" to his dying father, Eduardo Provolone (Kirk Douglas), only to find himself constantly tempted to relapse by way of one whirlwind of a morning. No one really believes that Angelo will stick with his pledge, because being a gangster is an intrinsic part of who he is; he looks and acts the part, despite his best efforts to the contrary. He even surrounds himself with his former goons, their jobs now comprised of answering doors and doing the cooking, even though they'd rather be collecting debts and busting kneecaps. Despite the grim history of organized crime during Prohibition (during which Oscar is set), this movie is consistently ebullient and even (maybe) "family friendly"; anything mildly objectionable--from brandishing pistols to discussions about illegitimate children and premarital sex--is played for laughs. It reminds me of the moment in Amadeus when Mozart pitches his premise for an opera to be set in a "seraglio" (a.k.a. a harem), defending it by highlighting the story's moral virtues despite the setting. Angelo's goons are caricatures of what you'd expect from a mob movie, like his snarky "butler", Aldo (Peter Riegert), and his "ox", Connie (Chazz Palminteri). His daughter (his only daughter, known to him) is Lisa (Marisa Tomei). She's a sheltered princess who hides her vices from daddy dearest; but after the accountant--Anthony Rossano (Vincent Spano)--tells Angelo that he and "his daughter" are lovers, Lisa ups the ante by claiming that she's pregnant at the behest of the household's disgruntled maid, Nora (Joycelyn O'Brien). Lisa gambles that this revelation will coerce her father into letting her marry the man she loves (at least, at the moment), the titular Oscar (Jim Mulholland)--whose ultimate late arrival feels like an attempt to one-up Orson Welles' famously late appearance in The Third Man. But Angelo--still under the impression that Lisa and Anthony are a thing--tries to make an honest woman out of her by marrying her off to the accountant instead. And when a polite young woman named Theresa (Elizabeth Barondes) confesses to Angelo that she foolishly told Anthony that she was his daughter and that she's the one who he loves, things start getting even screwier!
Much of the humor in Oscar stems from the constant deluge of events that make Angelo's morning more and more inconvenient, and how events become misunderstood, or are understood to mean different things to different characters. Take for instance when Angelo tries to convince Anthony to relinquish a little black bag filled with fifty thousand dollars worth of jewels--also embezzled by the sly accountant--by insinuating that his tailors, the Finucci brothers (Harry Shearer and Martin Ferrero), are actually accomplished hitmen, and that if Anthony doesn't cooperate, he'll have him killed. When Anthony happens to be alone with the Finuccis at a later time, they pull out a magazine clipping of the shooting of a mob boss, "showing off their work". (Anthony fails to realize that they're referring to the suit the gangster was wearing at the time of his death, and becomes visibly nervous.) If Oscar resembles a stage play, that should come as no surprise; it is adapted from the play of the same name by Claude Magnier. Similarly, it has been said that this movie has comic elements that would feel at home in the plays of William Shakespeare, like "A Midsummer Night's Dream", or perhaps "The Taming of the Shrew". When the motivations of characters collide, they create comical scenarios because of how the characters have divergent ideas about what the other person really wants. After it becomes clear that Lisa and Anthony actually detest one another, the mercurial girl instead insinuates that her heart belongs to none other than Angelo's bookish linguistic coach, Dr. Thornton Poole (Tim Curry). Although Lisa initially seeks to use Dr. Poole as nothing more than a means to an end, she discovers that by just sitting and talking with him about his passion for the English language--and the subsequent world travelling he does to fuel his research--that they have more in common than either anticipated. (Imagine that!) But because Angelo has a gangster's mindset, he believes that the only way he'll be able to close the deal with Dr. Poole is with a bribe. Ironically, it turns out that the kindly scholar is (like Lisa) looking for a way to escape the trappings of his life at home as well, so the bribe becomes purely incidental to him, while it remains of exaggerated importance to Angelo. Nearly every scene in Oscar is designed to have the audience feel like smacking their foreheads with the palms of their hands at the sheer bad luck Angelo has with his semi-noble quest to reform himself. The bankers he's soliciting despise him, but he still feels that he has to put on airs to appear respectable in order to honor his father. But at the end of the day, he shrugs his shoulders and says: "Sorry, Papa. I did the best I could." He's not really disappointed in himself; he's resigned to just being who he is. Despite his ignoble profession, he comes to terms with the understanding that our true selves always have a way of slipping out...like those mischievous little black bags that are all over the place in this movie.
Recommended for: Fans of a silly yet charming comedy set against the 1930s-era backdrop that gave rise to the "screwball comedy" in the first place. Oscar is one of those easily accessible comedies that virtually anyone can enjoy, focusing on the hilarity that arises with misunderstanding. (Was that a dangling participle, Dr. Poole?)
Much of the humor in Oscar stems from the constant deluge of events that make Angelo's morning more and more inconvenient, and how events become misunderstood, or are understood to mean different things to different characters. Take for instance when Angelo tries to convince Anthony to relinquish a little black bag filled with fifty thousand dollars worth of jewels--also embezzled by the sly accountant--by insinuating that his tailors, the Finucci brothers (Harry Shearer and Martin Ferrero), are actually accomplished hitmen, and that if Anthony doesn't cooperate, he'll have him killed. When Anthony happens to be alone with the Finuccis at a later time, they pull out a magazine clipping of the shooting of a mob boss, "showing off their work". (Anthony fails to realize that they're referring to the suit the gangster was wearing at the time of his death, and becomes visibly nervous.) If Oscar resembles a stage play, that should come as no surprise; it is adapted from the play of the same name by Claude Magnier. Similarly, it has been said that this movie has comic elements that would feel at home in the plays of William Shakespeare, like "A Midsummer Night's Dream", or perhaps "The Taming of the Shrew". When the motivations of characters collide, they create comical scenarios because of how the characters have divergent ideas about what the other person really wants. After it becomes clear that Lisa and Anthony actually detest one another, the mercurial girl instead insinuates that her heart belongs to none other than Angelo's bookish linguistic coach, Dr. Thornton Poole (Tim Curry). Although Lisa initially seeks to use Dr. Poole as nothing more than a means to an end, she discovers that by just sitting and talking with him about his passion for the English language--and the subsequent world travelling he does to fuel his research--that they have more in common than either anticipated. (Imagine that!) But because Angelo has a gangster's mindset, he believes that the only way he'll be able to close the deal with Dr. Poole is with a bribe. Ironically, it turns out that the kindly scholar is (like Lisa) looking for a way to escape the trappings of his life at home as well, so the bribe becomes purely incidental to him, while it remains of exaggerated importance to Angelo. Nearly every scene in Oscar is designed to have the audience feel like smacking their foreheads with the palms of their hands at the sheer bad luck Angelo has with his semi-noble quest to reform himself. The bankers he's soliciting despise him, but he still feels that he has to put on airs to appear respectable in order to honor his father. But at the end of the day, he shrugs his shoulders and says: "Sorry, Papa. I did the best I could." He's not really disappointed in himself; he's resigned to just being who he is. Despite his ignoble profession, he comes to terms with the understanding that our true selves always have a way of slipping out...like those mischievous little black bags that are all over the place in this movie.
Recommended for: Fans of a silly yet charming comedy set against the 1930s-era backdrop that gave rise to the "screwball comedy" in the first place. Oscar is one of those easily accessible comedies that virtually anyone can enjoy, focusing on the hilarity that arises with misunderstanding. (Was that a dangling participle, Dr. Poole?)