REVIEW: 8 HEADS IN A DUFFEL BAG (1997)
Scott Renshaw
8 HEADS IN A DUFFEL BAG
A film review by Scott Renshaw
Copyright 1997 Scott Renshaw
(Orion)
Starring: Joe Pesci, Andy Comeau, Kristy Swanson, David Spade, Todd
Louiso, Dyan Cannon, George Hamilton.
Screenplay: Tom Schulman.
Producers: Brad Krevoy, Steve Stabler, John Bertolli
Director: Tom Schulman.
MPAA Rating: R (profanity, adult themes)
Running Time: 93 minutes.
Reviewed by Scott Renshaw.
Clueless college students on holiday inadvertently cross paths with
mobsters, and end up having to tote around a lot of dead flesh in order to
stay alive; macabre wackiness ensues. Is this the plot to WEEKEND AT
BERNIE'S III. No, no, thank merciful God in heaven, no. The film in
question is 8 HEADS IN A DUFFEL BAG, and it's not nearly as awful as its
plot or direct-to-video-style title might suggest. It's the story of a
low level mobster named Tommy Spinelli (Joe Pesci) who is given the
assignment of carrying the titular crania from New Jersey to San Diego as
proof for the Big Boss that a contract hit has been completed.
Unfortunately for Tommy, his bag is mixed up with one belonging to aimless
but affable medical student Charlie Prichett (Andy Comeau), who is
accompanying his girlfriend Laurie Bennett (Kristy Swanson) and her
parents (Dyan Cannon and George Hamilton) on a trip to Mexico. That
leaves Tommy only 24 hours to track down his heads, with the unwilling
assistance of Charlie's two best friends (David Spade and Todd Louiso).
It comes as quite a surprise to realize that twisted plot was created
by Tom Schulman, the screenwriter behind the decidedly not-twisted DEAD
POETS SOCIETY. There area few moments of gruesome comic brilliance in 8
HEADS IN A DUFFEL BAG, most of them involving the strange fates which
continuously befall the heads. One ends up in the laundry, tumbling dry;
another is carried off by a coyote. Makeup artist Greg Cannom (THE MASK)
does a delightful job of creating the heads, which keep turning up at
inconvenient moments and end up providing the film's best scene during a
sweet rendition of "Mr. Sandman."
When Schulman is willing to push the limits of good taste, 8 HEADS IN
A DUFFEL BAG produces some big laughs, but he should have been willing to
push those limits even further, and more often. For the first half of the
film, Charlie and the Bennett family scream and fumble around in a posh
Mexican hotel in a strained manner, with newcomer Comeau trying to carry
the farce on his thin shoulders. He needs a lot more help than can be
provided by Dyan Cannon and George Hamilton, however; their presence only
serves to give you the feeling that you're watching a dark-humored episode
of "The Love Boat." While he has a bizarre and original plot device at
his disposal, Schulman inexplicably resorts to unpleasant Mexican
stereotypes, Cannon's incessant shrieking and a parade of pratfalls.
Joe Pesci, on the other hand, is wonderfully relaxed, and his
character does a lot to save 8 HEADS. For most of the film, Tommy is busy
threatening Charlie's freaked-out buddies, and we expect Pesci to become
the amped-up sadist he made famous in GOODFELLAS and CASINO. The great
gag in Pesci's scenes with Spade and Comeau is that he's much more simple
and creative in the tortures he devises for his wimpy captives. With the
reserve of a veteran, Tommy gets the information he needs by whipping the
two men with wet towels, hanging them upside-down from gravity boots, and
twisting their ears. It's a great, goofy spin on Pesci's stock character,
and it gives 8 HEADS some of its best moments.
Too bad only Pesci seems to realize that fact. Schulman actually
doesn't seem to know what he wants to do with the characters, resulting
sloppy and fairly pointless attempts at providing motivation. Charlie, we
learn, is unable to decide on an academic direction, probably because he
really wants to be a writer; Laurie thinks she wants to break up with him
because of his lack of stability; Tommy is decent enough guy who just
wants to retire after this one last delivery. None of these snippets of
personality amount to anything, however; they're stock situations which
don't even yield stock resolutions. Schulman just lets his direction and
script wander, getting terribly conventional at the oddest moments and
pulling back when he should have been ready to go for the jugular. 8
HEADS IN A DUFFEL BAG is just too uneven to be satisfying, even if some
individual gags work to perfection. When you're throwing body parts at
the audience, you've got to offer more than half-hearted whimsy.
On the Renshaw scale of 0 to 10 severance plays: 5.
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Edwin Jahiel
8 HEADS IN A DUFFEL BAG
Copyright 1997 Edwin Jahiel
8 HEADS IN A DUFFEL BAG 3/4 * Written and directed by Tom Schulman.
Photography, Adam Holender. Editing, David Holden. Production design, Paul
Peters. Music, Andrew Gross.Cast: Joe Pesci (Tommy Spinelli), Andy Comeau
(Charlie), Kristy Swanson (Laurie Bennett), Todd Louiso (Steve), George
Hamilton (Dick Bennett), Dyan Cannon (Annette Bennett) and David Spade
(Ernie). released by Orion Pictures and Rank Film. 90 minutes. Rated R (for
ridiculousness, risible violence, raunchy language)
No, this is not black humor. El Mariachi is black humor. Fargo is black
humor. Grosse Pointe Blank is black humor. But 8 Heads is not black
humor.What is it then?
It's a mess. It's a cheap attempt at getting laughs. Mobster Tommy Spinelli
(Joe Pesci) carries from New Jersey to California what the title of the
film says (they all belong to hoodlums) for delivery to a Big Boss as proof
of assignment accomplished by
Tommy's middle echelon boss.
At San Diego's airport carousel, two identical bags are accidentally
switched. The heads-duffel goes to Charlie (Comeau). He is a med student
who makes you pray that if he ever graduates you'll be better off seeing
your friendly veterinarian than Doctor Charlie.
Charlie is visiting his long time no see girl-friend Laurie (Swanson) who
has decided to dump him. He doesn't know this yet, and while he thinks he
was invited by her family, he was not. Anyway, her folks (Hamilton and
Cannon) drive everyone down to a resort hotel in Mexico.
That's where Mom, a recovering alky,is the first to peek into the bag and
go into hysterics. Charlie, then Laurie are next. Tommy in the meantime,
trying to track down Charlie, ends up with the student's roommates who seem
to be the only other living creatures on campus.
I will now spare you the details and spare myself thinking about them. Not
that some bits are not funny, but they are submerged in repetitions,
stupidities, improbabilities, plot holes, and anything else you care to
name. The performers are totally undeveloped, bad, and exaggerate badly
while accomplishing the feat of being characterless at the same time.
Pesci overdoes to death his irascibility, aggressivity, violence,
telephone-busting, sadism and other such virtues. The eight heads are
increased by more of them, courtesy of the Med School's stash of frozen
corpses.
Some mileage is gotten out of a few scenes or sequences. Like the setups
between Pesci and the roommates -- one "sensitive," the other cynical --
that might approach amusing absurdism. Sadly, the film does not know the
meaning of subtlety or wit and does not know when to stop milking the same
cow.
Annoyingly, there is a running motif of ridiculing Mexicans and another of
including caricatures of contemporary "bandidos." In one development,
George Hamilton's new car is stolen by local highwaymen, painted red,
rented by Charlie, re-stolen by the same gang, and...
Feeble puns are made with "head," such as losing it, go ahead, head out,
head on, etc. A wonder they didn't think that in Italian the Mafia bosses
are Capo or, in the plural, Capi.
The severed heads are extremely life-like. In a potentially funny
nightmare of Pesci's, they come to life and sing to him "Mr. Sandman." This
comes too late to salvage things. Incoherence, monotony and overkill, well
entrenched by now, will go on also in what's ahead.
Since many of us have had our luggage switched for a look-alike, the
movie's one positive side is a reminder to mark your bags in distinctive
ways. That's worth half-a-star.
Written April 18, 1997