Saturday, January 21, 2012

MASTERS OF DISASTER: DEAN MARTIN in AIRPORT

Hey pallies, likes Winston Churchill was once quoted as sayin' "All good things come to those who stand and wait." Well, likes I gotta say those words of wisdom have become likes the Dino-truth with today's helpin' of Dino-devotion. Likes I have been waitin' for years to read a smart----a cool, hip, and ever randy Dino-centered review of his big screen epic performance in Alex Haley's "Airport."

Well, pallies, that long-anticipated day has arrived courtesy of the blog pad, "Ruthless Reviews" where in-the-Dino--know coolster Mr. Matt Cale has sribed a truly truly stunnin' Dino-focused review tagged, "MASTERS OF DISASTER: DEAN MARTIN in AIRPORT." Our most beloved Dino received like 7 mil to headline the all star cast of this disaster classic, and finally finally Matt Cale has given our Dino his due in this good as gold Dino-prose.

There is likes so much that I coulda share from Cale's thoughtful and very very Dino-reflective analysis of our King of Cool as the King of the Pilot's Seat. But, likes I don't wanna takes anythin' away from your Dino-read. Suffice it to say that Mr. Matt Cale knows oh so well how to turn a Dino-phrase and intergrate our Dino's persona with the character he places likes to the max, Captain Vernon Demerest.

So likes sits back and soak in every glorious Dino-detail as crafted by Cale. ilovedinomartin sends out our greatest of great Dino-appreciato to Mr. Matt Cale and all the pallies at "Ruthless Reviews." Gotta say that waitin' for such a Dino-honorin' review of "Airport" has likes been oh, so well worth the wait! To view this in it's original format, likes clicks on the tag of this here Dino-gram. Dino-psyched, DMP


MASTERS OF DISASTER: DEAN MARTIN in AIRPORT

By Matt Cale: January 19, 2012

What sight, save the whiskered visage of Captain Sully Sullenberger himself, could ever hope to assuage our fear of flying as the steady (albeit leathery) hand of Dino Paul Crocetti, known to the faithful as Mr. Dean Martin? I know, I know – steady hand, Dean Martin – four words slammed unexpectedly together in defiance of reason, good sense, and an endless history of teeming cocktails clanging about with frozen dice loaded to bear for a life lived on the edge of accountability. But here, as Captain Vernon Demerest, a name so marble-certain that it begs the gods to challenge its fortitude mid-flight, Martin leaves behind the stumbling absurdity of Jerry Lewis, the unlimited, yet untested arrogance of Frank Sinatra, and the pious hypocrisy of John Wayne — all fanatically American men having shared stage and screen alike with our Dino – to soar solo, yet ever-strong, into a future bought wholesale with but a wink, a smile, and fountains of steady nerve. He alone among his ilk could guide this bird to its blissful rest, and any one glimpse of this legend at the controls that snow-filled, bomb-bursting night would be enough to at last put the bed the idea that this is not the age of heroes.

Sure, Dean is one of Hollywood’s chosen few who drank to drive away the drink; the sort for whom sobriety was a relationship best left estranged. How delightfully ironic, then, that for his best role since Rio Bravo, a performance that played sadly to elbow-bending expectation, Martin would not stand aside as duty called other, more hardened men to a cockpit unaffected by temptation or sin. As such, Dean would not be the blitzed and blinded passenger-in-peril, or the overwhelmed man on the ground who met his responsibility with the predictable evasions. No, Martin – Demerest, now and forever – would be clear of mind, hard of heart, and ready for anything the skies saw fit to throw his way. And at the end of Airport’s damn near 2 ½ hour running time, we would bow our heads in shame for having doubted him at all. No jumbo jet – no means of human transport, mind you – would ever come to harm with Dean Martin at the helm, not only because, for all the hysteria on display, he’s always the sanest man in the vicinity, but because he’s in love, dammit, and while he might bend this precious airplane, he’ll pull it into port for the pregnant mistress sprawled out near the rear, her eyesight, unborn child, and perfect hairdo all hanging precariously in the balance.

She is Gwen Meighen (Jacqueline Bisset), beautiful and 26 to Vernon’s fine wine 53, and while she knows she’s not quite enough to split apart his marriage, she does in fact carry his legacy. Thankfully, and matter-of-factly, his first suggestion is not the sentimental silliness that fairy tales will come true, but rather an abortion, preferably not in some back alley, but a snuffing of the fetal candle nonetheless. He’s heard rumors about Sweden, what with the United States still wandering about in a pre-Roe haze, and he’s offering his wallet as well as his decisiveness. This entire conversation – frank, adult, and defiantly cheerless – takes place before the big ship has set sail, making Vernon’s subsequent courage under fire ever the more the work of a master aviator. Lesser men might drop the damn thing into the drink to save their honor (and the likelihood of a messy divorce and/or child support), but Vernon owns up to his responsibilities. He might not drive the young lady to the very door of the Stockholm clinic, but he’ll pick up all reasonable expenses like a gentleman. So yes, Vernon is greeting this new, liberated age with but a shrug of caution, but like so few before him, he’ll assign his conquest her rightful humanity, rather than notching his belt like some coxswain caveman.

As if the heavens above saw fit to challenge Vernon’s commitment to choice, the pregnancy revelation was but the first crisis to be met with unflappable masculine resolve. There’s a man with a suitcase bomb aboard, his gutless inhumanity a perfect contrast to Vernon’s cocksure muscularity. The bomber, Van Heflin at his most simpering, is jobless, hopeless, and relentlessly henpecked; his only course remains the murder of hundreds to provide his dead-end spouse with a bit of comfort in her final, reckless days. In his way stands the Captain, but rather than resort to fists and hammer blows, he uses trickery and negotiation to end the madman’s quest. Vernon’s plea is stunningly absent the slur of hesitation, and Dino again becomes the only man on planet earth capable of reaching that rare reservoir of reasoned restraint. Some dopey, bitchy passenger – telegraphed as worthless throughout the film’s opening – interferes with the rescue, and for that moment, Vernon’s world is turned ass-over-end by the terrorist’s blast. Gwen may die, but so might they all, and that rush of feeling of losing the hottest ass in the Trans Global fleet is cast aside in favor of the cause. They’ve got to land for her, yes, but also the weak and timid and unworthy. Vernon is damn near God himself, but he’s not about to sort them out.

No, Vernon doesn’t simply put on that uniform as if shuffling off to the salt mines; he inhabits the damn thing like a second skin, polishing those wings like the Purple Heart of a D-Day survivor. And that blizzard socking in the runway? Or that massive hole in the plane’s lavatory? Parted, Moses-like, and sealed tight like the lips of a disobedient child meeting the backhand of justice. One glare, one arched eyebrow on a face browned under sun and heat lamp alike for the better part of the 20th century, and despair turns to a hope unknown but minutes before. And those glass shards that threatened to turn his amour into a sightless, tin cup beggar? Nowhere to be found, as if danger ran to the hills, tail between its legs, once a real man strode into town. Curiously, Vernon would fail to appear in any of the Airport sequels (only George Kennedy’s Patroni would chomp cigars throughout), leading one to the inescapable conclusion that he hung up his wings, made an honest woman of Gwen, and moved to destinations unknown, forever the keeper of her kingdom. And like Sully, he went out on top – a Clemente at 3,000 – a man of yesteryear we haven’t quite encountered again.

12 comments:

Danny G. said...

Man o man pal! What a totally cool cool review!!! This guy definately has a flair for putin' to words our very thoughts of our great man!
He nailed Dean's performance & finally gave him the well deserved, well over-due respect & appreciation that he had comin' for his role in that groundbreakin' flick.

dino martin peters said...

Hey pallie, likes Danny-o dude, you certainly have nailed Mr. Cale's amazin' ability to speak the Dino-truth...woulda loves to have this guy review the Matt Helm capers, as well as our Dino's other great flicks! Keeps lovin' our Dino!

ANDY: Pop Music Not Pills. © said...

"Martin leaves behind the stumbling absurdity of Jerry Lewis, the unlimited, yet untested arrogance of Frank Sinatra, and the pious hypocrisy of John Wayne..."

It's the Dino-truth man! It's Dino-incomparable! Loves the stylo-mylo descriptives of Dino-screen pallies as compared to Mista Kool himself.

Lewis, Sinatra and Wayne? They stand no-where with the Dino-control of the aeroplane aisle.

And Jacqueline Bisset? This beautiful talent is one of very few hot chicks who could be a Dino-babe. She stands tall too beside our Dino-masculine capabilities.

"Airport" (1970)? One of the best Dino-flicks I've seen on Dino-screen.

And Matt Cale? He's Dino-deserving to be writin' on your blog.

Cheers,
Andy
Singaporean Dino-lover.

ANDY: Pop Music Not Pills. © said...

"Martin leaves behind the stumbling absurdity of Jerry Lewis, the unlimited, yet untested arrogance of Frank Sinatra, and the pious hypocrisy of John Wayne..."

It's the Dino-truth man! It's Dino-incomparable! Loves the stylo-mylo descriptives of Dino-screen pallies as compared to Mista Kool himself.

Lewis, Sinatra and Wayne? Their acting abilities stand nowhere with the Dino-suave in the aeroplane aisle.

And Jacqueline Bisset? This beautiful talent is one of very few hot chicks who could be a Dino-babe. She stands tall too beside our Dino-masculine capabilities.

"Airport" (1970)? One of the best Dino-flicks I've seen on Dino-screen.

And Matt Cale? He's Dino-deserving to be writin' on your blog.

Cheers,
Andy
Singaporean Dino-lover.

Always On Watch said...

I've seen this film time and again. It's one of the few Dean Martin films not to have significant comedic relief. The Young Lions is the other one, I think.

dino martin peters said...

Hey pallie, likes Miss AOW, thanks for the fab Dino-observation...very very true...likes if memory serves me correctly, "Airport" unfortunately is the only big screen effort of our most beloved Dino that I have actually seen on the big screen! Keeps lovin' our Dino!

ANDY: Pop Music Not Pills. © said...

"Martin leaves behind the stumbling absurdity of Jerry Lewis, the unlimited, yet untested arrogance of Frank Sinatra, and the pious hypocrisy of John Wayne..."

It's the Dino-truth! Loves the way Cale describe the Dino- pallies as compared to Mista Kool himself because the 3 stand no chance with the Dino-style control of the aeroplane aisle.

And Jacqueline Bisset? This beautiful talent is one of very few hot chicks who’s a real Dino-babe.

She stands tall and the combine makes ‘Airport’ one of the best Dino-flicks I’ve seen.

And Matt Cale? He's Dino-deserving to be writin' on your blog.
Cheers,
Andy

dino martin peters said...

Hey pallie, likes Andy man...I dare say you have mastered the Dino-lingo for Dino-sure...likes truly truly I so so diggs your Dino-reflections dude! Simply gonna have to have you do some more Dino-scribin' for ilovedinomartin... So rad that you are so so in the deep, pure, and true Dino-know...keeps lovin' our Dino. I stand in awe pallie totally totally in awe, of your amazin' Dino-devotion...

Kylie said...

Dean was so great in this movie and worked with some of the greatest actors and actresses in the world.
I believe Dean agreed to do Airport on the condition he got a share of the profits which was a wise move.
This is the movie which started the run of great disaster movies to follow.
Definately the best of the Airport movies

dino martin peters said...

Hey pallie, likes thanks so much Miss Ky for sharin' your Dino-thoughts on our great man in the great screen epic "Airport." Dino received more money then any actor before that time...likes 7 mil to share his talents in this flick. Keeps lovin' our Dino!

Kylie said...

Hi Dean :)
7 Million dollars is a lot of money and this was back in 1970.
I can`t imagine what that 7 Millon dollars would be equivalent to today.
Hugs n Kisses
Kylie xxxoooxxx

dino martin peters said...

Hey pallie, likes Miss Ky, the money just speaks 'bout our desired our most beloved Dino is...just as nobody knocked the Beatles off the charts like our Dino...nobody claimed that kind of bread to makes a flick either...truly only Dino matters...
Keeps lovin' our Dino!