In this edition of Staff Picks, Film Editor Jacob Oller recommends an excellent road trip movie and Staff Writer Matt Schimkowitz hails the Dirtier Cut of a Norm Macdonald-led cult hit.
Jacob Oller: Hit The Road (Amazon Prime Video, Kanopy, Hoopla)
It’s so defeating when a nepo baby is also really, really good at what they do. You can’t even be mad at that point. They earned it. This is the case for Panah Panahi, son of Iranian New Wave legend Jafar Panahi, and writer-director behind 2022’s excellent road trip comedy Hit The Road.
Turning a quest to smuggle a man out of Iran into a blissful, warm family bonding session is a tall order, but one Panahi is well-equipped for; in addition to his father’s censorship, imprisonment, and international escape, his sister needed to flee Iran due to threats on her life. It’s no wonder Panahi is able to maintain the acerbic, ball-busting spirit of his central family—mother (Pantea Panahiha), father (Hasan Madjooni), elder son (Amin Simiar), his charisma bomb of a baby brother (Rayan Sarlak), and their cute pooch—despite the gravity of their undertaking.
Like so much of Iranian cinema, Hit The Road unfolds its layers slowly, with a level of conspiratorial deceit and shadowy implication covering up the honest core of love that binds the family together. Why they’re heading towards the border, what unspoken checklist they’re running through with their seemingly eccentric and unrelated stops, that remains far more vague and aloof compared to the specific, jokey affection the relatives share for one another.
In this way, Panahi’s politics are similarly snuck in under cover of dark: In his rebellious version of Iran, deception is as necessary and automatic as breath, so uncommon as to not warrant being the focus; love, on the other hand, is as special as it is anywhere else, and deserves our full attention. In that close scrutiny, shoved into a van and unable to escape, Hit The Road‘s chatty characters flourish. Madjooni’s patriarch, with his broken leg and terrible toothache and long-suffering exhaustion, is the perfect foil to the live-wire Sarlak, who gives one of the best child performances of the last 20 years. (One hilarious subplot involves the precocious kid needing to get his contraband cell phone back because he has so many people trying to dial him up.) Meanwhile, Panahiha’s complex facial expressions shoulder many of the more somber images as profanity flies easily from her lips.
It’s a contradictory film, simultaneously light and existentially heavy, this cognitive dissonance baked into life in a country that has plenty to say about how its residents act. And yet, at the end of the film, after the journey has played out and the cramped quarters open up into sublime space, this family comes across as endearing, protective, sassy, and worn down by all the shit they have to put up with in order to live their lives. That is to say, just like any other family, in any country, on any other kind of trip. It feels ridiculous that I want to advocate for movies that push this simple, self-evident point, but just as a great movie can be magical and transcendent, it can also be demystifying.
Matt Schimkowitz: Dirty Work: The Dirty Cut (Available through Vinegar Syndrome on July 1)
Twenty-seven years after bombing in theaters and being reborn as a beloved cult object for now-grown 10-year-olds who saw it at sleepovers, Dirty Work returns with its long-fabled Dirtier Cut. The Bob Saget-directed comedy starring Norm Macdonald grew from the mid-’90s Adam Sandler boom of absurdist, low-brow slacker comedies. Dirty Work was always a cut above the rest, primarily for showcasing Macdonald’s unique, disaffected charisma. Vinegar Syndrome’s new release is the first time fans have seen the film this close to its intended form.
Vinegar’s “Dirtier Cut” extends the film’s considerable runtime from 82 to 83 minutes, returning jokes not seen since its 1998 test screenings. However, this new Dirty Work isn’t an “R-rated” or “director’s” cut. Always intended for pre-teen boys, the filmmakers were aiming for a PG-13. “We really worked hard to get an R with no nudity,” co-writer Frank Sebastiano said at the cut’s os Angeles premiere. “We didn’t say ‘fuck’ once. It was just about imagery. The language was not that bad. There were some visuals that are coming back to me, but they weren’t overtly sexual. They were weirdly sexual.”
Regardless of the version, Dirty Work is still about doing dirty deeds dirt cheap. Macdonald stars as Mitch Weaver, who starts a revenge-for-hire business with his best friend Sam (Artie Lange) to raise money for a heart transplant for Sam’s dad, Pops (Jack Warden). The plot largely functions so that Macdonald can play off an unbelievable comedic talent assembled for the film, including career-best performances from Chevy Chase and Chris Farley, and a one-scene turn from Don Rickles that belongs in the Smithsonian. Still, Macdonald’s casual demeanor remains the star of the show. His blunt delivery and easygoing smirk imbue the film with a distinctive comedic energy that keeps the shaggy plot moving.
But we don’t have to sell anyone on Dirty Work. Surely, everyone has a 40-year-old white guy in their lives who shouts “G Sev-on” every time they’re at a jukebox. What’s impressive is the effort Vinegar Syndrome put into the release. The Dirtier Cut is a reconstruction of a raunchier version shown at two 1998 test screenings. Using the timecode on the video print for the visual elements and Sebastiano’s camcorder footage of a San Diego screening to match the sound, Video Syndrome’s restoration team worked with MGM’s archivists to pull raw footage from film dailies and place them back into the movie. The seams were barely noticeable, particularly for newcomers. Those in the audience mouthing the words “Lord knows I have” to themselves can spot a new scene from old.
The Dirtier Cut certainly makes good on Sebastiano’s promise of weird sexual imagery. It excises some scenes meant to replace raunchier ones, like Rebecca Romijn’s bearded lady cameo. The “way-outta line” prison scene is a touch more specific in ways that don’t necessarily make it funnier. Still, it is a prime example of Macdonald’s ability to underplay sensitive or offensive material. Thankfully, Vinegar Syndrome’s release contains both cuts of the films, along with a host of special features, including multiple commentary tracks and a 60-minute retrospective documentary. It’s more information than anyone could want about Dirty Work from the only people willing to talk about it.
Dirty Work: Dirtier Cut will be available on Vinegar Syndrome’s website on July 1. That’s it, bye!
