This week's Bad Movie We Love teems with 2010 Oscar bait and the energy of a billion Gleebasers: It's Newsies, mistah! Jawnalism's finest musical! It's got ink on its fingahs! And Christian Bale's undying shame, too. Yes, Mr. Batman, The Fighter's best supporting actor, starred in Disney's 1992 flop about the newsboy strike of 1899 when he was just 18-years-old. He was joined by fellow Oscar buzzee Robert Duvall, Bill Pullman, kiddie legends like Luke Edwards and David Moscow, and -- mysteriously -- Ann-Margret. Read all about it! Costs a penny, yeh maniac.
Now: Remember when you saw your 17-year-old cousin Spencer's senior musical? It was Guys and Dolls. The horny cast snapped its suspenders and shot the dice. Remember? You were glad you saw Spencer's version because it was hammy and ghetto. Yes. You figured you'd never see the hifalutin' Sinatra movie anyway, and you're still thankful you haven't, because it would make Spencer's spazzy acting seem lame. Right, right. Well, Newsies is the first movie to seem like a high school take on a real classic, except that "classic" doesn't actually exist -- and that's why, somehow, Newsies is a classic. It's High School Musical: The Musical. Look at these silly upperclassmen! Homecoming stud Christian Bale totally got a chubby in the third act! I saw! Your chemistry teacher's son is a closet case! Teehee! Coach Duvall sucked ass at playing Joseph Pulitzer -- and why did he ditch the softball team to be in this lame play, anyway? Oh, right. He's hot for the props mistress. Duh. See you at band!
In other words, Newsies is a big-budget movie that feels cheap. The dinner theater costumes and choreography would make for one hell of a McDonald's commercial in 1992, but for a Disney movie, it's hokum. Adding to the grubbiness is a murderous run-time of 120 minutes, the presence of Ann-Margret (who looks like an Ace of Cakes rendering of Bernadette Peters here), and a bloated score that Alan Menken shouldn't often discuss. So where's the "love" in this BMWL, you ask? Why, it's wrapped up in Newsies secret (and sole) power: Gusto!
Talk about "selling it": From minute one, we're introduced to a world of newsboy accents and vernacular that the cast of Jersey Shore might call overkill. It's a penny a pape! William Randawf Huhst! New Yawwuuhhhhkkk! The boys bunk together like towers of Fraggles, and they set about hawking "papes" by shouting exaggerations to passersby. "Ellis Island on fire!" one ragamuffin hoots. That's a lie.
"It ain't lyin'," he claims. "it's just improving the truth a little." Oh.
Their unofficial ringleader is Jack "Cowboy" Kelly (Bale), who earned his power using River Phoenix hair. He often leads his coworkers in dance, which is unsafe since it turns out Jack is skilled in tap, jazz, swing, Parkour, and -- honestly -- hip-hop. An alternative title for this film might be Rhythm Nation 1899. Accent on noinety-noine.
Of course, Jack doesn't really have a family. He has the gift of song instead. If I were Jack, I'd re-gift it.
He's lonely. In one of Newsies's many unimportant sideplots, he hooks up with a friend's sister who flirts with him on her roof. She lives in the part of New York with a great view of Burbank, California.
In another tangent, Jack and his co-workers gawk and caw for a vaudeville star named Medda "Swedish Meadowlark" Larkson (Ann-Margret). No, not that Meadowlark.
Jack explains that Medda is a friend of his father's, but does that explain why they have such an intimate, hand-kissy relationship? I'm shivering.
The main thrust of Newsies is the battle between the underage scamps and yellow journalism giants Joseph Pulitzer and William Randolph Hearst. Pulitzer (poor, poor Robert Duvall) decides to raise the price of papes, forcing the newsies into working harder to earn livable wages. Luckily, a newspaper reporter named Bryan Denton (Bill Pullman) starts interviewing Jack about the fairness of it all. This leads to renewed hope, a giant strike that Jack organizes, and songs. Since Newsies's favorite activity is ripping off heavy-handed '80s things, we get a tune that could've functioned in Dead Poets Society.
Wahoo! Jack is through with papes professionally.
You can tell he's in good hands with Bryan Denton, who says things like this: "Last year I covered the war in Cuba. I charged up San Juan Hill with Teddy Roosevelt. That was an important story." Hope you like foreshadowing, because Newsies tucked some in there.
Before we zoom ahead to the thrillingly anticlimactic conclusion, here are three stills of magnificent Jack Kelly solo choreography. Single axle!
Was he auditioning for the role of "effeminate shuffling cowboy" in the following historical clip? Because he gets a callback.
After Jack and the newsies write their own paper, spread the word about their strife, and join forces with newsboys from as far away as Central Casting, Mr. Pulitzer conferences with Jack in his office. Not that Pulitzer is depicted as a one-dimensional villain or anything, but he says, "I tell this city how to think! I tell this city how to vote!" On the pop quiz after the movie, please remember to guess Jack as "the protagonist."
Lo and behold, Pulitzer succumbs to Jack's case (after he's joined by his "walkin' mouth" buddy David Jacobs) and dancing erupts in the ashy streets. Wait, wait -- who is that paralyzed man in the silly Teddy Roosevelt costume, barreling through the crowd to give Jack props?
There in the back? With the hat? My Uncle Marty! Oh, no. Wait -- that's Teddy Roosevelt. Leader of the free world and pape lover. And crowd-surfer, I guess. (What did I tell you about foreshadowing?)
So that's Newsies. Was it too long? Yes. Was it cheesy? Of course. Was it a precursor to Madonna's icky cowgirl persona of 2000? In fact it was. But did it have the gusto to make us believers in democracy, the fourth estate, and justice? Aha!
No, it didn't. But it did have the gusto to make Christian Bale's hair flips sorta titillating. That's all a BWML ever needs.