Charles Fleischer Movies

Erstwhile inventor Rick Moranis has been experimenting with an electro-magnetic shrinking machine. He leaves the device unattended in his attic; shortly afterward, it is accidentally activated. Alas, the demon machine is aimed at Moranis' children, as well as the son of neighbor Matt Frewer. The kids, shrunk to 1/4-inch height, are tossed into the trash bin by the unwitting Moranis. For the rest of the film, our teeny-tiny protagonists attempt to gain their parents' attention--and to survive the wilds of the backyard, where all sorts of dangers, from bumblebees to lawnmowers, threaten their well-being. Honey, I Shrunk the Kids features Marcia Strassman as Moranis' wife, and juvenile players Robert Oliveri, Kristine Sutherland, Thomas Brown, Jared Rushton and Amy O'Neill. The visual effects are the handiwork of such masters as Joe Johnston, Phil Tippett, and David Allen. When originally released to theatres, Honey, I Shrunk the Kids was double-billed with the "Roger Rabbit" cartoon Tummy Trouble; this is how it is presented on videotape as well. The film (the live-action one, that is) prompted a 1992 sequel, Honey, I Blew Up the Kid. ~ Hal Erickson, All Movie Guide

In Robert Zemeckis's trailblazing combination of animation and live-action, Hollywood's 1940s cartoon stars are a subjugated minority, living in the ghettolike "Toontown" where their movements are sharply monitored by the human power establishment. The Toons are permitted to perform in a Cotton Club-style nightspot but are forbidden to patronize the joint. One of Toontown's leading citizens, whacked-out Roger Rabbit, is framed for the murder of human nightclub owner Marvin Acme (Stubby Kaye). Private detective Eddie Valiant (Bob Hoskins), whose prejudice against Toons stems from the time that his brother was killed by a falling cartoon piano, reluctantly agrees to clear Roger of the accusation. Most of the sociopolitical undertones of the original novel were weeded out out of the 1988 film version, with emphasis shifted to its basic "evil land developer" plotline --and, more enjoyably, to a stream of eye-popping special effects. With the combined facilities of animator Richard Williams, Disney, Warner Bros., Steven Spielberg's Amblin Entertainment, and George Lucas's Industrial Light and Magic, the film allows us to believe (at least for 90 minutes) that "toons" exist, and that they are capable of interacting with 3-dimensional human beings. Virtually every major cartoon character of the late 1940s shows up, with the exceptions of Felix the Cat and Popeye the Sailor, whose licensees couldn't come to terms with the producers. Of the film's newly minted Toons, the most memorable is Roger Rabbit's curvaceous bride Jessica (voiced, uncredited, by Kathleen Turner). The human element is well-represented by Hoskins, Christopher Lloyd, and Joanna Cassidy; also watch for action-film producer Joel Silver as Roger Rabbit's Tex Avery-style director. ~ Hal Erickson, All Movie Guide

A decade of wisecracking sequels have not diminished the power of this striking horror film from the director of Scream. Teenagers in a small town are dropping like flies, apparently in the grip of mass hysteria causing their suicides. A cop's daughter (Heather Langenkamp) traces the cause to child molester Fred Krueger (Robert Englund), who was burned alive by angry parents many years before. Krueger has now come back in the dreams of his killers' children, claiming their lives as his revenge. The teenaged leads are sympathetic and intelligent, unlike the dumb victims presented in most films of the period, and they are ably backed up by veterans like John Saxon and Ronee Blakley. Director Wes Craven creates moments of real dread by examining the line between nightmares and reality, as well as the "sins of the parents" theme, and although the film is quite gory, it never resorts to cheap bloodletting for its effect. A unique and disturbing experience, this film is highly recommended for horror buffs. ~ Robert Firsching, All Movie Guide

The conspicuous absence of series regular Betty Garrett, aka Edna Babish DeFazio, is explained in this episode when Frank (Phil Foster) discovers that his wife Edna has left him for a rich Texan. Meanwhile, Laverne (Penny Marshall) gets a chance to sing with The Spinners (playing themselves), but is unfortuantely scheduled to babysit for her boyfriend Chuck's (Charles Fleischer) pet chimpanzee. Unaware that Frank and Edna have broken up, Laverne asks Frank to look after "Little Chucky" while she makes musical history--a sequence of events leading to a guilt-ridden finale. The Spinners perform "Daddy's Home". ~ Hal Erickson, All Movie Guide

Straight-laced Henry Winkler takes a night-shift job as a morgue attendant. Winkler falls under the spell of wheeler-dealer coworker Michael Keaton, whose catchphrase "Is this a great country or what?" is the clarion call for his many get-rich-quick schemes. His latest plan is to turn the morgue into a nocturnal brothel, for the benefit of anything-goes hooker Shelley Long-and incidentally, to line their own pockets. Director Ron Howard and his frequent scripters Lowell Ganz and Babaloo Mandel turn the potentially lurid story material of Night Shift into an endearing comedy, with winning performances from its three often miscast stars. Keep an eye out during one of the party sequences for Kevin Costner as a carousing college boy. ~ Hal Erickson, All Movie Guide

Oliver Stone's first directorial effort for a major studio (and his second horror film after the 1974 Seizure) came shortly after the phenomenal success of Midnight Express, which was based on Stone's Oscar-winning screenplay. The director turned to Mark Brandel's obscure thriller "The Lizard's Tail" as source material for what is essentially a silly psychosexual variant on low-budget horror films like The Crawling Hand. The title appendage belongs (for a while, anyway) to smug, conceited artist Joe Lansdale (Michael Caine), who owes his success to a popular comic strip featuring a macho, Conan-type hero. After Lansdale's drawing hand is sheared off in a grisly car accident, his career, dignity, self-control and even his sanity soon begin to abandon him as well. His tenuous relationship with his wife Anne (Andrea Marcovicci) falls apart as she takes steps to improve her own self-worth -- something she had never had the strength to do before the accident. Bitter and paranoid, Joe begins to lash out in anger at everyone around him ... and becomes convinced that his severed hand has come back, wandering in fields and dark alleys and squeezing the life out of everyone it comes in contact with. The question of whether the hand is real or merely a manifestation of Lansdale's rage is never answered, even in the film's "shock" coda. At any rate, it's impossible to take the film seriously -- the crawling-hand effects are laughably shoddy for a major studio production, reflecting none of the skills of effects wizard Carlo Rambaldi, and Caine's sweaty, pop-eyed histrionics are too goofy to be convincing. On the plus side, James Horner's score is remarkably chilling, contributing a great deal to a few effective suspense scenes -- but it belongs in a better film than this. ~ Cavett Binion, All Movie Guide

In this action film, a former pro skier who has become a sheriff attempts to talk daring, but unprepared teens from climbing a treacherous mountain. ~ Sandra Brennan, All Movie Guide