MICH.ELLANY FILM i What is a best boy Hello. Forgive me for not introducing myself. My name is John Shea and I am the film editor for the Daily. Not too long ago, a friend of mine praised me for how much I knew about film. I gushed and said, "Naaaaw..." It's always nice to have one's ego gently stroked, and I appreciated the gesture. Later that night, my friend and I went to see a movie. As the film was ending and the credits were rolling up the screen, something caught my friend's eye. "What's a 'best boy'?" he asked me. Now, we all have at least one area of expertise, one area in which we pride ourselves at having superior knowledge. There is nothing more discouraging than someone coming along and popping your bubble. Like, if you thought you really knew your stuff on dinosaurs, and I came along and asked, "What did the Iguanodon species most like to eat?" you'd be pretty upset not to know it was broadleaf saplings, wouldn't you? Of course you would. It's embarrassing. I hate to admit I don't know something about film, and whenever confronted by a film buff JOHN SHEA 4 " " OssieDai A multi-faceted entertainer talks about racism, Hollywood, and stereotypes INTERVIEW Ossie Davis is an actor, writer, director, producer, social activist, and community leader. He left Howard University in 1938, after his junior year, to go to New York, where he became a successful-Broadway actor. In 1953, his first play 'The Big Deal' was produced off-Broadway. His next play, 'Purlie Victorious,' which showed the different ways Blacks respond to poverty and oppression, was a controversial hit, with Davis playing the title role. In 1948, he met his wife Ruby Dee when they worked together on Broadway. They went on to star together in 1959 in 'A Raisin In The Sun', and, in recent years, they have hosted a PBS tele- vision series. They are active on the lecture circuit giving dramatic read- ings and presentations. Davis spoke with WEEKEND Editor Alan Paul following a campus performance to honor Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.'s birthday. Daily: Do you see your art as a means to a higher end or just an expres- sion of yourself and where you are at the time? Davis: I would say that my art is an extension of myself and who I hap- pen to be at the moment. My art is essentially that of the stereotype but it's carrying out a responsibility that I feel incumbent to me by the means most suitable to me and my talents. But if I couldn't speak, if I didn't have the voice, I think I would find some other way to do exactly what I'm doing now because it's an extension of me. D: One thing Amiri Baraka said which really stuck with me was that when he gained some fame, he realized he had an obligation to not be just 4 another famous asshole. Have you felt that heavily? O.D.: Not heavily. I couldn't. See, in my case there was never the dan- ger of being as famous an asshole as Amiri might be because he's a man of immense talent. But, the challenge to remain meaningful, as against fulfilling someone else's burden - your agent's or public relation per- son's - is one I admire in him and I also practice it myself the best I can. D: Robert Townshend's film Hollywood Shuffle was about the difficulty for a Black actor to find meaningful roles. As a successful actor on stage, screen, and TV, have you been frustrated by the lack of quality roles available to you as a Black actor? O.D.: No, no. I learned early on, if I was going to let this shit frustrate me, I'd be dead...No! I did exactly what Townshend did; I laughed at it. It never was so threatening or so evil that it stopped me from making a liv- ing or having a human attitude about the whole thing. I know about jobs I lost, sometimes because I was Black, sometimes because on the politi- cal spectrum I was red or whatever. I know about all of those things but I was always able to put them in perspective. I learned a long time ago that if I was going to wait on Hollywood to tell me why I was here.,..No! I went Amiri'sway. Whoever I am, I am and I enjoy the hell out of it. See INTERVIEW, Page 9 who asks me something about a film I don't know, I am reluctant to say, "I dunno." Instead, I cock my head at a 45 degree angle and say authoritatively, "Outstan ding cinematography." I sound smart, I impress other people, I feel good about myself. It's great. Yet there I was, facing someone who hours earlier had called me "a walking encyclopedia of movie trivia," asking me something I hadn't the slightest about. My mind was racing as I tried to come up with a witty, intelligent answer. "Uh...uh...duh..." God, I thought to myself. Some film editor you are. You don't even know one of the most fundamental aspects of film - a simple, technical term. I went home that night feeling bad, and the next morning I woke up with an uncharacteristic thirst for knowledge. A fire burned within me. I was going to find out what a best boy was by the end of the day. anyway? I figured I would start by calling. the offices of Orion Pictures in Los Angeles. They make these pictures, don't they? Surely someone there could help me out. "Hello. Orion Publicity. This is Karen speaking, how may I help you?" "Karen, my name is John Shea. I'm calling from the Michigan Daily and I'm trying to find out what a best boy is." Silence. "Karen?" I ask over the phone. "Yes." "A best boy. You know, he's always on the credits that come over the screen at the end of every movie." More silence. "Uh, is there any way I can maybe get a hold of a best boy? Talk to him?" You would have thought that Karen had just been accosted by a creature from outer space. I tried to explain to her what I was doing, but the explaination only confused her more. "Wait for one moment," she said. I waited for several moments. "I'm sorry, sir. I can't help you." See SH EA, Page 9 This is one Trip' By Lisa Pollak The Couch Trip, directed b y Michael Ritchie, is such a sorry at- tempt to satirize the psychiatry pro- fession that you'd almost have to be crazy to like it. Craziness, of course, "is t h e heavy-handed motif of this so-called comedy about a crazy person (Dan Aykroyd) who becomes a psychia- trist, two psychiatrists (Charles Grodin and David Clennon) who go crazy, one crazy guy (Walter Matthau) who stays crazy, and - something the director probably thought he'd be crazy to do without - one vacuous blonde pillar of san- ity (Donna Dixon). The method to this madness? t Yes, folks, it's the old-role-reversal- clever-escape-see-the-characters-oh- so-slowly-discovering-what-you've- known-for-an-hour-after-barely- missing-each-other-around-corners r - PASS IT AROUND! Hollywood staple. Since the plot moves about as quickly as Dixon's mind (the ushers should supply us with straightjackets as we are tempted to tear our hair out in agony), the few humorous lines are punctuated with blasts from irritat- ing horn ensembles in order, I pre- sume, to wake up the audience. Let's be fair: any movie can be an abysmal and boring disaster. But The Couch Trip - and this is what is so frustrating - starts with a fantastic premise: to ridicule the techniques of the couch talk profes- sion ("I think the garbage can in your dream represents your husband, Mrs. Smith"), the recent deluge of psychiatric self-help books and talk shows, and our general misuse of psychiatric terms. Crazily enough, the premise never comes into practice. The cen- tral comedic idea here - and The Couch Trip's most disappointing failure - is the imposter' s (Aykroyd's) attempt to host the real psychiatrist's phone-in talk show. These scenes, which could have hit the humor bullseye, end up resorting to the Three's Company School of Comedy: "fuck" in every third sen- you'll definitely want t tence and plenty of misinterpreted innuendos. Probably aware they had missed their satirical mark, the makers of this movie felt compelled (perhaps that's called the we-wanna-hit-real- bad-obsessive-compulsion) to add a generous dose of poorly-written morality to an already poorly-exe- cuted movie. "Sometimes all that truth-telling gets so icky," a scaggy- looking Matthau moans to Dixon. "Well, sometimes the truth is icky," she drawls. Believe me, the only thing "icky" here is the movie. All of which may leave the po- tential viewer wondering how two talents (Dixon and Grodin exempted) like Matthau and Aykroyd ended up in a film best described by the words "yuck, yuck, yuck." Matthau, win- ner of two Tonys and an Academy Award, defines the meaning of "has- been" as he stumbles his way through The Couch Trip. He must have been truly crazy to take this role. At least there's a message in the title: spare yourself a trip to the the- ater and stay at home on your couch. The Couch Trip is one journey you definitely don't want to take. 0 Just when you thought it couldn't get Dan Aykroyd literally ride off into th OFF THE WALL You are all so smart and have so much potential, but get a fucking life!!! Grad library It takes more than just long arms to reach for the stars. Grad library Learn or die! Angell Hall The schooled are ruled and fooled. Kiosk outside SEB You look really stupid when you're trying to stay awake. (in reply) BUT I'D LOOK EVEN M O R E STUPID IF I WERE ASLEEP. (in reply) I agree either way. Angell Hall How many Spartans does it take to screw in a lightbulb? (in reply) TWO - AND THEY GET FOUR CREDITS FOR IT. Angell Hall SKETCPL?Ab) EZINN Ann Arbor -i re-ndFi1m-Center of the Midwest o DS jkAEN BY A CU01ii OF AN V6, c f zo$vbL To $900 'TW, - ~ WffH AZ's REMTIt"S~ nxxM'uaw) 4 44 996, b o t 9080 *Disoounts Not Valid D ling Special Engage Israel's Culture& Politics as reflected in its Popular Music AVI HADARI MON. JAN 25 7:30PM MICHIGAN UNION Sponsored: Union of St 76-GUIDE IS I FOR THE 1988-89 ACA[ 76-GUIDE is an anonymous peer phone couns Counseling Services. Applicants need to be en at working with people. No previous counselir GUIDE workers are paid and work approxirr Applications are available at Counseling Serv beginning Monday, January 25. Deadline for apppii For furtherinformation call 76-CUll - U-Mis an equal opportunity/affirmativ "Just call..:'7 6 -G ID E Monday-Friday 5:00pm-9:00oam Saturday-Sunday 24 hrs udents for Israel ad _ PAGE 8 WEEKEND/JANUARY 22, 1988 WEEKEND/JANUARY 22, 1988