Word: harold
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...many problems plaguing our young hero. His mother died when he was young. He was traumatized by the Vietnam War. His only son mysteriously disappeared while he was clipping the hedges one afternoon. And his wife divorced him. "Life's a bitch, eh?" remarks his neighbor Harold (George Wendt) while nodding his head and stuffing his face with pizza and Schlitz beer...
Once in the nasty nest, Katt quickly realizes his predicament and enlists the aid of his neighbor, played by the hilariously deadpan Wendt. Armed with a harpoon gun and wearing goggles, Harold and Katt, himself clad in army greens and jump boots, approach the evil closet. However, in the process of hunting monsters, Katt is pulled through the door and carried back to Vietnam where he discovers that a dead soldier buddy of his has been the root of all his residential difficulties. (I swear. This is for real.) All turns out well, amazingly enough, and the flick winds...
...miserableness of their lives, the two principal characters realize that they might be able to live together and derive solace from each other's company as each has something that the other lacks. But the pride of the cripple (played by Eric Oleson) and the dreamy quality of beggar (Harold Langsam) render this plan unworkable...
...take one point: I wonder whether it is strictly in the sense of fair play to fault both Professors [Cornel] West and [Harold] Cruse for not responding to a charge of anti-Semitism, or pro-Farrakhan-ism, as it were. Is this not a straw man argument, used for the purpose of arousing antagonistic sentiment toward Cruse, West, and "Black intellectuals" (and therefore the Du Bois Graduate Colloquium, which Mr. Barron takes as an example of the latter)? As the risk of sounding naive, which I don't think I am overly, the issue of the Nation of Islam...
Adapting Russell Hoban's novel, Playwright Harold Pinter creates his own kind of suspense by setting up one trite movie situation after another, then making us wonder how he is going to avoid cliche resolutions. It is the same with his characters. They come to life as familiar figures, but they take on what one suspects will be an infinite life in memory because of their awkward singularity. Jackson and Kingsley are great somber comedians under John Irvin's quietly assured, tactfully ironic direction. Amazing how the unspoken can resonate, astonishing how much can be implied with a small, deft...