The King of Marvin Gardens
In my world, it's almost never a bad time to watch a bleak, neo-realistic 70s Hollywood drama. These were often simple human stories, told in a sometimes opaque and slowly evolving fashion, populated by complex, layered characters. Remember when movies didn't need to spell everything out for the dimwitted, AND carry a 30-minute epilogue? Well I do. Keep your Spielberg blockbusters, Sundance channel indie charmers, your Harry Potter movies and your Lord Of The Rings trilogy. Give me Electra Glide in Blue, The Panic In Needle Park or Alice Doesn't Live Here Anymore.
The other night I sat down to re-watch an old favorite, The King of Marvin Gardens, from 1972. King... is especially relevant here, as the principal character, David Staebler (played by Jack Nicholson), is a free-form DJ of sorts, a morose autobiographical storyteller, representative of a style prevalent on the FM band during the late 60s and early 70s, though barely present today. Staebler's stories are told in a slow, patient style that would never stand amongst modern computer-ordained commercial FM formats. The character's closest modern equivalent might be public radio storytelling giant Joe Frank.
David, a doleful loner, is called away from his nighttime air slot and grim 2-story Philadelphia flat to Atlantic City, by his troublesome wheeler-dealer brother Jason, played by Bruce Dern. In recent years, Dern had performed memorable turns as a psychotic guardian of Earth's last botanical garden in the moody Sci-Fi thriller Silent Running (1972), and as the last guy you'd want as an LSD-tour companion in Roger Corman's The Trip (1967), the latter written by Nicholson. Dern and Nicholson had already worked together on several films, including Drive, He Said, Jack's directorial debut from the previous year. The wonderful Ellen Burstyn (see Alice... above) also stars as the sweet nut-job Jason's been shacking up with.