John Travolta begins his '80s career slide as Bud Davis, a hick who migrates to Houston, falls for the honky-tonk bar scene, marries city girl Sissy (Debra Winger), loses her to recidivist Wes (Scott Glenn), and enters a mechanical bull-riding rodeo. Compelling supporting performances (especially Winger) and authentic bar footage from-director James Bridges (The Paper Chase) compensate for Travolta's squeaky, misjudged central turn.
"Don't watch that—watch THIS!". The Nutty Boys' promos were always integral to their position as one of the greatest English singles bands of the 1980s. What's "Baggy Trousers" without a flying saxophonist? What's "It Must Be Love" without the sight of Suggs and chums risking electrocution in a swimming pool? They're all here, from '79's "The Prince" to '99's Ian Dury-assisted "Drip Fed Fred". Priceless.
Another day, another Bond movie. Forgive me if I can't get worked up about the McConcept, although David Arnold is, by any standards, a slick operator who does as much as anyone could to keep the formula fresh. Paul Oakenfold has a stab at remixing the James Bond theme, and, of course, Madonna and Mirwais concoct that title song. Here Madge contrives to sound like a tracheotomy victim rattling through an outtake from the Music album. "Sigmund Freud," she croaks. We wonder why. Then we realise she's simply trying to tell us she read a book once.
