Les filous

Chronicles the adventures of Frazier Crane's father, Mo, before he retired to Seattle on a bum leg.

While very few Barry L movies ever make it past contrived unfunny nonsense, Tin Men is a definite winner. Barry takes us back to his revered 1960s Baltimore and the ensemble cast has graduated from Diners drifter 20 somethings, to of all things, aluminum siding peddlers on the threshold of middle age. For some inexplicable reason, its not as dumb as it sounds. The performances are, to a man (and woman in Hersheys lone case) first rate. The script witty and touching. Above all however, is Tin Men's ability to get a laugh. From the Bonanza discussions that Tarentino would later graft onto his own Reservoir Dogs, to the 'tit for tat' revenge storyline, its all very very good. Even old Richard Dreyfuss who is probably the most all round unlikeable dude to ever carry the title of 'leading man', gives an uncharacteristically suitable performance. The mincing, whining, face-making exaggerated body language, in this film all works to perfection. DeVito with his extremely limited range, again lands himself in a movie that totally welcomes his character.

You would like to have seen just how Fraziers dad (Mahoney) injured his leg, but for some reason it is not detailed here. Levinson cant help being Levinson and strangely inserts the music of the Fine Young Cannibals into a film supposedly set 25 years earlier. Go figure.

Rival aluminum-siding salesmen find themselves an increasingly hostile tit-for-tat feud spurred on by an automobile accident this Barry Levinson movie. One of two films that Levinson made in 1987, 'Tin Men' never quite found the same audience as 'Good Morning, Vietnam', which is a shame as it is arguably better, even if its lack of appeal to some is understandable. Both protagonists are, after all, very lowdown and despicable characters and while both have their occasion quirks, this is one of those films in which there is not a single likable character in sight. This is a deliberate move by Levinson though as the pair's feud is constantly contrasted against their shady business practices and salesmanship techniques, such as dropping a $5 note and insisting that it is not yours to convince a potential client of your honesty. The feud also coincides with the whole aluminum-siding industry being investigated for unfair selling practices and there is a sense that the protagonists are driven to their extremes as a result of the way they have learnt to work; "deceit is an occupational hazard" as one claims. Knowing this does not make Barbara Hershey's subplot any more credible, nor does it render either lead especially sympathetic, but it does provide some sense of perspective as the idea here is to observe how the characters operate, not to get to like them for who they are. Add in some genuinely funny moments (Dreyfuss realising that DeVito actually doesn't love his wife) and 'Tin Men' is a flawed film that still works surprisingly well. The conclusion is pitch perfect too.

Few films can be laugh-out-loud funny and ultimately as touching and deep as this film. Most people remember the dialogue, seemingly ad-libbed during the diner scenes by the cast (Danny DeVito, Jackie Gayle, Bruno Kirby)--and that looks like the same diner that Barry Levinson used for his first movie. But the characters and their quirks are totally fleshed out before the conflict (DeVito's stiff neck, Dreyfuss's ladies' man schtick), making for a few truly hilarious lines and scenes (Gayle talking to DeVito about what a great dancer Dreyfuss is comes to mind). The movie really has a sad story underneath about very unhappy people who delight in the misfortunes of others, until Barbara Hershey's character realizes what's going on. All of these characters and story points climax in a rather sweet and yes, believable final sequence. This movie came out during a spate of late '80s blockbusters and never really found its audience, I think. But it is one of the few late '80s movies I rewatch every couple of years and find more to appreciate with each viewing. I would rank it as Levinson's best film.

I grew up with characters like Dreyfus and DeVito, hustlers out there selling anything. Somewhere between 1963 and the time the film came out, they disappeared from our streets, only to move into six story office buildings that dot the suburbs of Northeastern cities. Now they spend their time on the phone, trying to interest prospects that new windows will surely cut their fuel bills.

I came to realize this great truth one day in 1988 when I went to rent a car and was told to come to Executive Plaza 5, Suite 414. As I walked the halls, all I could see in open offices were the Tin Men of 1963 at it again.

The movie crackles and sets off sparks. You don't know who to root for, and for good reason. This is not a buddy movie, but I suspect a remembrance by Levinson of people he knew growing up.

I have never quite understood why this flick has not achieved more critical and popular acclaim. I rate it a 9, which is very high for me (10s are reserved for a handful of all time classics). Beyond the great acting, super dialogue, and tremendous comedy -- which everyone seems to recognize -- there is also a very serious movie inside. Of course, as everyone says, it's an interesting slice of Americana: Baltimore in the early 1960s (before the flood). And on that basis alone, Tin Men is a great film. Few movies have ever given such an accurate portrayal of a particular time and place in America as well as this one.

But the movie is more than that. Tin Men is a story in which the historical tension between America's atavistic entrepreneurial spirit (as exemplified by the "tin men") and the regulatory forces of the state (as exemplified by the "investigating commission") are at an important crossroads. From the start it's obvious that the tin men have no chance and will lose this fight. It's a passing of a way of life. Much in the tradition of other great American works of art that examine the trade of salesman (Death of a Salesman, etc.), Tin Men is an indepth (and very funny) portrait of their psychological and social world. Their world outlook is now dying and there is a touch of wistfulness about that passage in the film. Are we as viewers supposed to be sad about it too? Or should we be happy? After all, the life of a tin man was hard and brutal (as well as free): witness the death of one of them to a heart attack.

On the other hand, is this way of life genuinely dying or just metamorphisizing? The ending was excellent because it brought ambiguity to that question. When DeVito and Dreyfus spot a new business opportunity: Volkswagens, we realize these "tin men" are irrepressible! They won't be stopped despite the new regulatory environment of the modern world. For my money, this movie is Barry Levinson's best by far. (Excellent soundtrack by Fine Young Cannibals, as well.)