A blog formerly known as Bookishness / By Charles Matthews

"Dazzled by so many and such marvelous inventions, the people of Macondo ... became indignant over the living images that the prosperous merchant Bruno Crespi projected in the theater with the lion-head ticket windows, for a character who had died and was buried in one film and for whose misfortune tears had been shed would reappear alive and transformed into an Arab in the next one. The audience, who had paid two cents apiece to share the difficulties of the actors, would not tolerate that outlandish fraud and they broke up the seats. The mayor, at the urging of Bruno Crespi, explained in a proclamation that the cinema was a machine of illusions that did not merit the emotional outbursts of the audience. With that discouraging explanation many ... decided not to return to the movies, considering that they already had too many troubles of their own to weep over the acted-out misfortunes of imaginary beings."
--Gabriel García Márquez, One Hundred Years of Solitude

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Friday, July 25, 2025

92 in the Shade (Thomas McGuane, 1975)

 

Margot Kidder and Peter Fonda in 92 in the Shade
Cast: Peter Fonda, Warren Oates, Margot Kidder, Burgess Meredith, Harry Dean Stanton, Elizabeth Ashley, Sylvia Miles, William Hickey, Louise Latham, Joe Spinell. Screenplay: Thomas McGuane, based on his novel. Cinematography: Michael C. Butler. Film editing: Ed Rothkowitz. Music: Michael J. Lewis. 

Thomas McGuane's 92 in the Shade feels like a souped-up home movie, as if he had invited a group of his friends down to Key West to smoke weed and act out scenes from his novel. The movie is all set-up and no delivery, the set-up being the efforts of Tom Skelton (Peter Fonda) to muscle in on the business of taking tourists on fishing trips that has been monopolized by the team of Carter (Harry Dean Stanton) and Dance (Warren Oates). The rest is a collection of incidents involving oddball characters played by scene stealers like Burgess Meredith, Elizabeth Ashley, Sylvia Miles, and William Hickey, though Joe Spinell manages to steal more scenes than any of them. Eventually, the movie has to end, a problem that McGuane solved by filming at least three endings, only one of which, the darkest, I have seen. It's the kind of film that could only have been made in the 1970s, the heyday of stoner movies, which means that its audience today is probably limited to film historians, curiosity seekers, and aging potheads.