2 The Daily Tar Heel Friday, September 30, 1977
Ampersa.T"'r
October, 1977
Fonda Fetching as
TTH 1 . Fugitive
Cinderella. r
jih z vy
fuAy Benson: Rocky Goes to College
()NK ON ONE, directed by Lamorit Johnson,
starring Robbv Benson and Annette
OToole.
Just a lew years ago youth movies were full
of mindless young actors with grim laces and
glazed eyes clashing about in fast cars, usu
ally ending up in or under acres of crushed
metal. Duly Mary, Crazy Larry; The Van;
Macon County Line and their ilk were churned
out for drive-ins where nobody watched the
movie much anyway.
But such clear delineations are disappear
ing; what with the success of Rocky and Star
Wars, you can't tell a youth movie from a
serious adult film ... a not unsettling devel
opment. These two films have already af
fected, if not the way mov ies are made, cer
tainly the way they end. Good will triumph,
make no mistake . . . until someone makes a
blockbuster hit with a chilling finale. Then
every movie will end badly for awhile, until it
starts all ov er again. Meanwhile, we're in for
some cheerful fairy talcs and awful hokum.
One on One is undeniablv another fairy tale.
Cinderella in basketball shoes, but the awful
hokum is happily absent.
Robby Benson plays basketball star I lenry
Steel who is recruited from his hinterlands
high school by a hotshot jockstrap university
obviously patterned on UCLA, down to the
program-twisting Wooden-csque coach. Ben
son fails to live up to expectations, so the
coach demands he resign his scholarship.
Benson refuses, and thereby lets himself in
llir some real abuse, emotional and physical.
We'v e bad a number of films in the past
that showed us the senseless brutality of
school athletics; that's not the point here.
Benson never asks us to qucston why he plavs.
H e must accept that basketball makes him
feel good, and that's enough in 1977. The
conflict is not between Steel and society, it's
between Steel and his coach; if the philosoph
ical edge is blunted, our emotional involve
ment doesn't seem affected at all; we cheer
him on as if this could really happen.
Benson does his own basketballing, a
combination of street fighter and flashy
showoff, neigher of which fits his bew ildered
baby face, but no matter. The love story is
every bit as improbable and wonderful
as Benson's basketball prowess. Annette
O'Toole (seen previously in Smile and The
War Between the Tales) is Benson's tutor, con
temptuous of the jocks she is hired to push
through academic subjects . . . until young
Benson shuffles into her life like a collegiate
Jimmy Stewart. Aw, shucks. It's terrific.
Benson co-wrote the screerfplay (there go
those comparison with Rocky) with his father,
Jerry Segal. Director Lamont Johnson, re
sponsible for the excellent Last American Hero
and last year's execrable Lipstick, has re
gained his taste and keeps a firm hold on a
story that could have been corny. He also
appears briefly in the film as Benson's "spon
sor," handing over S300 apiece for home
game tickets just so Benson will have a little
pocket money.
It's not surprising th.it UCLA and USC
refused to allow One on One to film on campus,
since it is not the most flattering portrait of
university athletics. Instead the filmmakers
shot in Colorado (no wonder the skies look so
blue) and ended up with a winner anyway.
Judith Sims
No Ore in This
Silver Mine
staff it is: the naive, earnest reporter in pur
suit of his first big story; a jaded oncc-great
reporter now churning out junk; a rock critic
w ho acts as if he's a rock star; the oily, stuffy
accountant (no sterotypes here); a former
reporter, now an insufferable book writer; a
photographer worried about losing her iden
tity; a writer worried about losing her iden
tity; and Michael J. Pollard, w ho haw ks the
paper when he isn't sleeping under the pin
ball machine. Although the film takes place
in the present, it looks and sounds like 1967.
With a little imagination, this could have
been a real disaster movie . . . Underground
Sewspaper '77. At least it might have been
funny.
Film critics are usually (and quite rightly)
loath to damn low-budget, independent
productions; such movies, such energy,
should be encouraged in this studio
dominated, mass-market industry. The Sil
vers deserve our respect for making their
films in spite of all the difficulties; if they only
made better movies, they could have our
gratitude and affection too. .
J.o.
OUTLAW BLUES, directed by Richard T. Hef
fron, starring Peter Fonda and Susan Saint
James.
There is hope (or Peter Fonda yet. After so
many years playing glassy-eyed and glassy
brained anti-heroes in fast cars, he is finally
cast as an almost charming hero. He still is
made to dash around on motorcycles, in cars
and speed boats, but not once does he act
world-weary, bored or stupid.
Outlaw Blues .ms written by B.W.L. Nor
ton (Cisco L'ike) and is a nice little story about
two likeable young underdogs triumphing
over the old blowhard bad guys and falling in
love at the same time. A not unfamiliar
theme. Fonda makes his singing and guitar
playing debut (which should not unduly
alarm Waylon or Fulton or Rory) as convict
Bobby Ogden, from whom a song is stolen by
big time country star Garland Dupree
(played with slimy aplomb by James Calla
han). After his release from prison, Ogden
tracks down Dupree in Austin, Texas, a
struggle ensues, and Ogden is in trouble
again. He is later aided and guided by Susan
Saint James as a former Dupree backup
singer who becomes Ogden's manager, ar
ranging visits to radio stations, performances
and recording sessions, all one step ahead of
the cops. Citizens (and movie audiences)
cheer each escape.
Fonda moseys through all this with be
mused detachment, somethimes flashing a
winning smile; not much of an entry in the
acting lexicon, but it sure beats Crazy Larry.
The chases are fast and cute, but a better
director than Richard T. Heffron could have
made the film move even when the actors
were sitting still; a better actress than Saint
James would have added a little fire, or even
warmth, to a nicely written seduction scene;
a better editor . . . well, never mind. It's
pleasantly entertaining, and that's not so
bad- J.S.
BETWEEN THE LINKS, directed by Joan
Micklin Silver, starringjohn Heard, Lindsay
Grouse and Jell' Goldblum.
When director Joan Micklin Silver (Hester
Strict) and her producer husband Raphael I).
Silver (president of an urban redevelopment
and commercial building company) took the
first screenplay of former Boston Rail Paper
reporter Fred Barron to Hollywood, the
ma jor studios, in a rare display of good taste
and judgment, declined to finance or distrib
ute it. Undaunted and tinpoor. the Silvers
used their Hester Sheet profits to indepen
dently finance lietween the Lines which, so far,
has won awards in the Dallas and Berlin film
festivals and acquired several favor
able reviews from Hast Coast critics.
We have it on good authority that we saw
the same film as those mentioned above, but
we sat through a very boring movie that
seemed to last forever.
Between the Lines is, at least, unpretentious,
but it fails to live up to its own minimal
expectations. The story concerns the
takeover of a Boston underground news
paper by established moneyed interests and
the cflect this has on the stall. And quite a
Saint James and Fonda: Sweet Duets and Mad Chases
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