Get Shorty
“Get Shorty” has one of the best collections of looks any movie has put together. There’s the calm look Chili Palmer gives Ray Barboni when he shoots him at the beginning. Or the one Chili gives Harry Zimm when he’s talking to him for the first time. Karen Flores has some positively great looks she gives the characters in this movie. And then there’s the scene where Chili and Martin Weir are trying to get the cold, icy gaze Chili delivers so naturally down in their first meeting. Barry Sonnenfeld knows that the way for this Hollywood comedy to pop is to get his actors to deliver the right looks. When that happens, few movies are as wonderful to watch.
This was the first of three great adaptations of Elmore Leonard we got in the mid-late ’90s, alongside Quentin Tarantino’s “Jackie Brown” and Steven Soderbergh’s “Out of Sight,” but “Get Shorty” feels largely forgotten. I think it’s because QT and Soderbergh’s films deliver more distinctive visual and storytelling rhythms to go with the wit and energy of their screenplays. “Get Shorty” was Sonnenfeld’s third film as a director, and it’s removed from the witty and stylish work he did on the “Addams Family” films, which look more attuned to his work as a cinematographer for the Coen Brothers. Here, his attention is not in creating a uniquely cinematic universe visual, but making sure the cool collection of mobsters and filmmakers he’s working with her look good, and can deliver the jokes as laid out in the screenplay by Scott Frank (who later adapted “Out of Sight”). The result is a movie that’s always a pleasure to sit through.
Chili Palmer is a traditional gangster with an insatiable love of movies; in the first scene of the movie, he’s talking to a friend about how maybe Momo, his boss, could buy a closing movie theatre so Chili can run it, and show some old Cagney movies. If you love movies, it’s a good bet that you’ve had that dream of running a movie theatre, or working at one, at some point; depending on what that situation ends up looking like, what company or indie theatre you’re working at, that dream can work out, or it’ll be more stressful than it’s worth. (I speak from experience.) Soon after, a series of events has Chili out in Los Angeles, tracking down a mark who stole $300,000 and, as a favor, trying to collect money owed by a movie producer to a Vegas casino. When he gets in front of Harry Zimm, Chili cannot help himself but pitch his story, even if it’s in the middle of the night, and wakes up the B-movie actress Harry is sharing a bed with. Chili’s Hollywood adventure begins, and it’s not long before his past, and future, start to look like similar lines of work. Who knew there was so much overlap between the two universes.
This was John Travolta’s first post-“Pulp Fiction” role, and he’s having a blast playing Chili. This isn’t a matter of Vincent Vega 2.0- Chili is on the same level in the criminal food chain, but he isn’t talking movies because Tarantino uses pop culture to reveal his characters- Chili is an unabashed nerd in the body of a gangster, and that’s why the character works so successfully. I feel as though, so long as I didn’t owe him money, I would get along with him. And he gets along with the right people, even if his relationships in this film don’t start out on good terms when he’s breaking into houses and waking people up. His love of movies wins over everyone…well, except for Bo Catlett (the terrific Delroy Lindo), an associate of Harry’s not too fond of Chili horning in on his turf. Part of the reason “Get Shorty” is so good is because you’re not really sure whether Bo or Ray Barboni (the awesome Dennis Farina) are going to get him first, and if not, how he’s going to get out of each situation. He always finds a way, though, and that’s part of the fun.
Hollywood brings out a great supporting cast for Travolta to play against. As Zimm, Gene Hackman is a riot as a B-movie producer who thinks he can bullshit his way out of situations better than Chili is capable of controlling them; there’s a scene over the phone with Barboni where Hackman tries to be slick, but, once he’s off the phone, there’s a look in his eyes that screams, “What have I gotten myself into?” As Karen Flores, Rene Russo shows why she was one of the most valuable leading ladies in the 1990s; from the second we see her, she has this understanding of Karen that just comes through when faced with men who know less than they try to convey- her interactions with Harry and Martin Weir result in some of her funniest moments, like when she cannot believe that Harry doesn’t understand Chili’s obviously autobiographical part of the story he’s telling, or when Martin, the consummate “serious actor” tries to get into character in front of Chili. It’s only Chili where her warmth really comes through, whether it’s a scene where she’s talking about her own dreams for her career, or later when she comes in late to Orson Welles’s “Touch of Evil,” and watches him reciting dialogue. As Weir, the “shorty” of the title, Danny DeVito is very funny as a self-important actor who gets excited about a project; he’s not in the movie much, but you can’t imagine it without him, and it makes you wish DeVito was still working on the reg in mainstream movies- he’s such a treasure.
This is a movie that is just cool and light and entertaining. You’re not going to get some deep, emotional character arcs like “Jackie Brown” or a stylish modern noir romance like “Out of Sight.” Sonnenfeld keeps things light on their feet, and makes a film that revels in the love of cinema better than pretty much any film I’ve ever seen. If I can help it, I’m not going to go so long between viewings ever again.
