November 1980 features a grindhouse classic and Michael Cimino kills the '70s dead
Plus a great and under-seen Ray Sharkey performance
The premise is simple, but the task is not. Every single movie released in the United States during the 1980s, reviewed in chronological order, published month by month.
Buckle up, because this is The Last ‘80s Newsletter You’ll Ever Need…
NOVEMBER
Ronald Reagan defeated incumbent President Jimmy Carter in the general election by a landslide.
Iraqi President Saddam Hussein declared holy war against Iran.
John Lennon’s eagerly awaited Double Fantasy album arrived in stores.
And Dallas finally answered the question of “Who Shot JR?” with 83 million people watching.
November was a rough month for ten-year-old me in terms of new movies.
There were certainly things to be excited about in November of 1980, but not many. I still remember walking into the record store and seeing the giant display for the Popeye soundtrack. I loved Robin Williams and there was something about the idea of him playing that character that immediately seized my imagination. I bought the soundtrack immediately and took it home and fell madly in love with everything Nilsson did on that record.
I also remember hearing the news that Steve McQueen had passed away and seeing that the news had a real impact on my father. So much of what I was digesting at that point was either because of my parents or in reaction to my parents, and I presume that’s how a lot of us found our way to pop culture. There’s the stuff they share with us, and there’s the stuff they restrict from us, and both things serve as spotlights. The more into something my parents were, the more curious I was about it, and if they were completely opposed to something, that also made me curious. With movies, my parents were cautious about what I was or wasn’t allowed to see, and I frequently found myself losing the battle when I would try to talk them into taking me to see something.
With books, though, it was a totally different policy. Once I had a library card, my parents told me that I was allowed to check out whatever I was interested in reading. I guess the rationale was that I wouldn’t really make it through something that was above my reading level. Thing is, I started reading at the age of three. By first grade, I was reading regular novels. I was voracious, and I definitely read things that I didn’t know how to fully process way earlier than I saw equivalent content in movies. Sometimes if my parents wouldn’t let me see a film, I’d read the book instead, and that led to me picturing much wilder versions of films than what was actually made and released.
On one occasion, though, it led me to read the wrong thing entirely and, in the process, I was rewired by an author. I was dying to see the film Monty Python’s Life of Brian. I’m not sure why, since I hadn’t really seen any Monty Python at this point, but there was something about that poster and that trailer and the reviews that got their hooks in me. I begged. I cajoled. I made my case based on what major critics were saying. And I got absolutely nowhere. My parents weren’t having it.
So one day I’m at the library and I see a book and for some reason, my brain connects dots completely the wrong way and I think “Oh, this is the book that Monty Python movie was based on, so if I read this, I will basically have seen the film. I win!” I check the book out, and the librarian gives me her customary, “Are you sure about this?” and I assure her that I am totally sure about this and I take the book home and within twenty pages realize how very, very wrong I was about (A) the book’s connection to the movie and (B) whether or not I was ready.
John Irving’s The World According to Garp had been published a few years earlier, but it was still raw and wild and boundary-shredding when I read it, and it rewired me instantly. Things I had never even considered suddenly had names and faces attached to them. Roberta Muldoon was the first time I even vaguely considered what life for a trans person in America would be like, and perhaps the first time I even truly understood that there were trans people. Adult sexuality was terrifying and existed on a wide spectrum in Garp’s world, and gender politics seemed volatile and dangerous. I loved his book even if I didn’t totally understand it all at that point, and it felt to me like a graduation into a larger world. While it would be another four or five years before I finally made my way back to Monty Python, I would argue that John Irving at age ten was formative in a far more subversive way than Python ever could have been.
There was only one movie released this month that I was eager to see, and I don’t think it was during November that I saw it. Roger Ebert had been talking about Gates of Heaven on his show for well over a year by this point, and the film finally got a commercial theatrical release. I hassled my mother about it and when the film opened in Chattanooga, we did indeed go to see it. It was the first documentary I ever saw, and it felt like a bit of a turning point in terms of what I could get my parents to go see with me. There were films they sat out not because they felt like they were inappropriate but because they couldn’t imagine why I would be interested, and it wasn’t until I got access to the full stock of a video store that I started to really explore the boundaries of my own interests. Gates of Heaven was a milestone for me, and even if it wasn’t as great as it is, I would have a soft spot for it just for that reason.
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