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Posts Tagged 'Woody Allen'
Posted: February 16, 2011 in Action, Comedy, Daniel Craig, Daniel Craig, David Niven, James Bond, James Bond, Orson Welles, Spy
Tags: Austin Powers, Ben Hecht, Billy Wilder, Bruce Willis, Cary Grant, Casino Royale, Daniel Craig, David Neven, Die Hard, Dr. Evil, Fargo, George Raft, Howard Hawks, Ian Fleming, James Bond, James Cameron, Jason Bourne, Joseph Heller, Joseph McGrath, Judi Dench, Ken Hughes, Martin Campbell, Matt Damon, Monty Python, Monty Python and the Holy Grail, Moonraker, on Her Majesty's Secret Service, Orson Welles, Paul Haggis, Peter Lorre, Peter O'Toole, peter Sellers, Robert Parrish, Roger Moore, Sean Connery, Spy Who Loved me, Terry Southern, The World Is Not Enough, Ursula Andress, Val Guest, Vin Diesel, Woody Allen, XXX
An author's intent, an actor's fragile ego, a genial shambles and cruelty to testicles
Commentary by Adam-Troy Castro
Casino Royale (1967). Directed by Val Guest, Ken Hughes, John Huston, Joseph McGrath, Robert Parrish, and Richard Talmadge. Screenplay by Wolf Mankowitz, John Law, and Michael Sayers, from the novel by Ian Fleming. Additional screenplay contributions by (take a deep breath), Woody Allen, Val Guest, Ben Hecht, Joseph Heller, Terry Southern, Billy Wilder, and Peter Sellers. Starring David Niven, Peter Sellers, Ursula Andress, and Orson Welles. 131 minutes. ** 1/2
Casino Royale (2006). Directed by Martin Campbell. Screenplay by Neal Purvis and Robert Wade, with Paul Haggis, from the novel by Ian Fleming. Starring Daniel Craig, Eva Green, Madi Mikkelson, Judi Dench, and Giancarlo Giannini. 144 minutes. *** 1/2.
Other Known Versions: Seen by us but not reviewed for this essay, "Casino Royale," episode of TV-anthology series Climax! (1954), starring Barry Nelson as "Jimmy" Bond and Peter Lorre as Le Chiffre.
The James Bond films have become so cemented in their formula for success that their various inevitable ingredients sometimes make them seem less like individual stories than the same story, told and retold with only a few particulars changed. Such elements as the enemy stronghold that blows up in the action climax, the empty badinage with poor pining Miss Moneypenny, the give-and-take with his weapons master Q, the ordering of a martini (shaken not stirred), the final scene where Bond ignores a congratulatory message from his superiors in order to pursue celebratory sex with the rescued lady of the day, the McGuffin that often involves hijacked nuclear weaponry, and (most relevant to today's examples), the gambling match with the villain where Bond beats the bad guy at the game he is enough of a cad to cheat at, are such series mainstays that they all appear, with only minimal variation, in most of the franchise's outings. It's more surprising, overall, when a Bond film chooses to omit one, let alone several.
Sometimes, the newest Bond film seemed less a separate entity than a de facto remake of the Bond film before it (as with The Spy Who Loved Me and Moonraker).
Under the circumstances, any talk of remakes seems so superfluous that it's almost startling to note that the series has already known two complete sets.
One involved a twisted saga of the disputed rights to Bond and his supporting cast, some of whom were concocted by a screenwriter who wrote a spec script for Ian Fleming. A couple of rancorous major court cases led to a settlement that ultimately deprived the main movie series of Ernst Stavro Blofeld, the recurring villain who had dominated the Sean Connery era and who became the model for the Austin Powers villain, Dr. Evil. It was this very situation that led to Thunderball being remade, also with Connery, as Never Say Never Again.
The same consortium responsible for that one, hoarding its one treasure like a certain ex-hobbit mutated into Gollum by years of exposure to the ring of power, later tried to make the same basic story a third time, with yet another Bond reprising his role. They didn't get backing again, but you really can't blame them for trying.
And then there's this, relic born of the one Bond novel adapted for television before the movie series, the same one that Howard Hawks once considered filming with Cary Grant. ('Twas not to be, but seriously, consider Cary Grant as James Bond, and sigh.)
Casino Royale, which was not included in the package deal procured by the Broccoli family, was first filmed in 1954 as a not especially-distinguished episode of a TV anthology series, featuring an American "Jimmy" Bond who needed to win a card game against a Le Chiffre affiliated with french socialists. Copies of that production were lost for decades, but were eventually located and released on VHS (where this reviewer saw it, though it was also included as a DVD extra with the 1967 version). I can report that it features Barry Nelson as a not-especially charismatic Bond and Peter Lorre as a Le Chiffre who doesn't lend the play much more than his bored presence. It does, however, hew to the premise of Ian Fleming's first Bond story, which has the super secret agent obliged to prevent the bad guy from winning a game of Baccarat that will replenish the funds he has embezzled from the Soviets.
(Thus leading to the pithy observation that while other Bond villains had grandiose ambitions, like extorting billions with nuclear terrorism, cornering the world heroin market, starting World War III, or wiping out most of humanity in order to establish a despotic rule over the survivors, this guy is motivated by nothing more than getting his hands caught in the till. In all filmed versions of Casino Royale, Le Chiffre's poor money management has gotten him into debt with the wrong people and he wants only to cover his own ass. It's almost possible to feel sorry for him. In essence, he's a somewhat more competent version of William H. Macy's put-upon car dealer from Fargo.)
As in Ian Fleming's novel, Bond wins the game, only to find himself captured, tied to a chair, and tortured at length by Le Chiffre: a scene that figures prominently in both the movie versions to follow, and which features something relatively rare in the Bond films: 007 completely helpless, and almost broken. It is one of the few scenes that make it into both the 1967 and 2006 versions, a key point of congruence in two productions that are otherwise as different from one another as two motion pictures can be.
The 1967 Version: A Genial Shambles
When the sixties spy craze was at its absolute peak and Bond in particular was a genuine pop culture phenomenon, possessing the rights to a Bond novel not procured by the Brocollis represented a grand opportunity that the makers of the spoof wished to exploit in grand style. They made all the smart opening moves, first by distinguishing their version from the series starring Sean Connery by deciding in advance by planning a farce with only limited fidelity to the Fleming novel. They also cast David Niven, Fleming's own original choice as the best possible actor to play his character, and in one of the lead female roles Ursula Andress, who had made a splash (ha-ha) as the hot girl in the swimsuit emerging from Bahamian waters in Dr. No, and who is here given dialogue directly referencing her fate in that original film.
They had an explanation for the differences in their Bond written into the screenplay. Their Bond is an aging gentleman, retired from spying, dedicated to a vow of celibacy, and utterly resentful of his namesake replacement, who he calls "that sexual acrobat who leaves a trail of dead beautiful women like so many blown roses behind him." It turns out that Niven's Bond was such a force for good that the Brits and their various allies thought that the absence of a James Bond, any James Bond, so destabilizing to the world order that somebody named Bond had to remain active at all times.
This happens to be the exact same theory that some fans still embrace to explain the periodic replacement of the leading men in the regular series. That's right. James Bond as Job Title was invented here, and it certainly beats the somewhat geekier theory, also popular, that James Bond is a Time Lord who stays young by "regenerating" like the protagonist of Doctor Who.
Circumstances compel him to take over the job previously held by M (here played by John Huston, who isn't around for long), and support a training program that installs other Bond surrogates in trouble spots throughout the world. Beyond that, the plot defies description, largely because there isn't one. This Casino Royale wanders all over the map, with plotlines initiated and then dropped, important characters introduced and then dropped, and the many scenes of sixties sexual innuendo (with entire mobs of sixties beautiful women) interposed with scenes that not only fail to make sense but were apparently never intended to make sense. Any attempt to describe the story will inevitably arrive at the phrase, "for no reason whatsoever." Much of it is very funny, though it needs to be said that a lot of it is just as irritatingly tiresome.
If its contempt for coherent narrative reminds modern-day viewers of Monty Python And The Holy Grail, another film that (somewhat more successfully) feels like it was being made up on the fly, be apprised that one of the 1967 Casino Royale's early sequences, involving the determinedly chaste Bond's unnerving night at a castle populated entirely by aggressive young women in heat, was cited by the Pythons a s a direct inspiration for their use of pretty much the identical situation in their film, where the sweaty celibate was played by Michael Palin and the name of the edifice became Castle Anthrax.
It is difficult to tell how much of the chaotic plotting was originally intended, but one of the factors that contributed to it was a very troubled production, caused in no small part by conflict between Peter Sellers (here playing one of the replacement Bonds, a card player whose real name is Evelyn Tremble) and Orson Welles (here playing Le Chiffre). Sellers, who was never the easiest man to work with, took an instant dislike to Welles, exacerbated when Princess Margaret visited the set and fawned over Welles while ignoring Sellers. (It didn't help that Sellers had just been trying to impress one and all with detailed stories of his friendship with the woman.) Welles responded in kind, deriding Sellers as an amateur.
Sellers was also desperately upset that Casino Royale was a silly comedy, as he'd wanted to play Bond straight – as is evident during the baccarat scene, where much of Tremble's baiting of Le Chiffre could almost be transposed to a serious Bond film without alteration. As for Welles, it appears to have been his idea to have Le Chiffre regularly stop the game to perform elaborate stage magic at the table – again, for no reason whatsoever — behavior that would less than kindly looked upon at pretty much every casino I've ever known. It fits here only because nothing else in sight makes sense.
The two men ultimately refused to act in any scenes together, a snit that the film covered by pretty much never showing Sellers and Welles in the same shot at the same time, even during the card game. Their direct conversations at the gaming table are conveyed by close-ups and the backs of heads. Later, the "torture" of the faux-Bond by Le Chiffre is conducted with Le Chiffre an absent figure mocking the Sellers character by remote control, and torturing by methods that include (what seems to be) a wood-chipper in his chair and an orchestrated hallucination that includes marching men in kilts and a cameo appearance by Peter O'Toole, for (all together now) no reason whatsoever.
Eventually Sellers was either fired or allowed to storm off the set for good, with most of his scenes unfilmed. This included a great deal of necessary connecting material, which is a key reason why he rushes off to rescue Vesper Lynd and is next seen unconscious as Le Chiffre's prisoner, with no actual scene where he is caught; he refused to film one. A number of his other scenes, including the one where he treats Ursula Andress's leg as a piano keyboard, and the one where he hops into a race car, were not scripted parts of the film, but joking around on the set, reshaped as narrative.
One early cut of the film actually resorted to using a cardboard cutout of him during the climax, to cover his absence; it was replaced with other junk footage.
So the shamblicious nature of the narrative, ultimately filmed by six different directors and written by a small army of astoundingly distinguished film writers who seem to have been working during production to shape a film that had already spiraled out of control, was in large part a desperate improvisation, to cover for a star who was originally supposed to be a much more substantial player, and was unavailable for much of his intended screen time. What remains is, to an unclear extent, a film stitched together out of spare parts and desperate improvisation as the folks behind the production gave up on any pretense that any of this could ever make sense, even within the context of a silly comedy.
Some of the pieces are insanely brilliant, among them an extended sequence which has Mata Bond (the daughter of Bond and Mata Hari, played with substantial comic chops and what seems to be deep personal enjoyment by Joanna Pettet), on assignment in Berlin running around gloomy German Expressionist sets while still (for no reason whatsoever) wearing the same jewel-encrusted indian dancing costume she was introduced as wearing in an ashram (or whatever) several scenes earlier. Some are messed up, like Mata subsequently changing her accent and personality for no reason whatsoever. Some are just strange, like Sellers dressing up as Adolf Hitler for no reason whatsoever. And some are just insane, as in the big action climax where old-west cowboys and indians invade the casino for no reason whatsoever, George Raft (who got star billing for less than sixty seconds on screen) shows up and dies for no reason whatsoever, a murdered character played by William Holden is revealed to have faked his death for no reason whatsoever, the Frankenstein monster shows up for no reason whatsoever, a chimp grins at the camera for no reason whatsoever, and main bad guy Woody Allen – who has been fed a nuclear potion – hiccups his way to the massive explosion that kills everybody for no reason whatsoever.
The movie is a mess, but a genial one, dull at times but hilarious at others. It was popular enough to emerge as the third biggest hit of its year.
And its fidelity to the source material amounts to this: A guy using the name of James Bond plays a game of baccarat with a guy named Le Chiffre to prevent him from replacing embezzled funds. Le Chiffre retaliates by kidnapping the girl, Vesper Lynd. Bond is captured trying to rescue Lynd and endures a brief interval of testicle torture (here presented in the most cartoonish manner imaginable). Then Le Chiffre is killed, which only seems to resolve everything, leading to a false ending before the other shoe drops and the action resumes.
The 2006 Version: Bond Bleeds
The makers of the mainstream James Bond movies finally acquired the rights to Casino Royale in 1999, midway through Pierce Brosnan's tenure in the title role.
Of Brosnan, who is not material to today's discussion, let's be content to say that he's proven himself a terrific actor, better than the material he was given as 007 usually merited. The World Is Not Enough was likely his best Bondian outing, although, as usual, your mileage may vary.
The problem was not his, really. The problem was that the cartoonish heroics of the sixties Bond had ceased to impress in an era when other film franchises could compete with and wildly surpass the Bond movies in terms of wild action, sexual intrigue, and over-the-top violence. Worse, the Bond films had become so formulaic that other filmmakers had realized that they could do just as well with characters of their own creation, in films that were otherwise note-by-note recreations; and not in the manner that the imitators of the 1960s managed to present their own raft of respectable but second-tier Bonds, but with outings that easily matched the Bond films in extravagance of action. When James Cameron has made True Lies and Vin Diesel has been in XXX and Tom Cruise has a thriving Mission: Impossible franchise and Matt Damon has the same with his Jason Bourne movies and Bruce Willis can boast the multiple variations of Die Hard, a James Bond movie no longer qualifies as an event just by showing up; it has to excel, to make us care about it, or it's just redundant.
The people behind the franchise have been accused of "Bourning Up" the Bond films – this being an actual understood reference now – but the truth is more simple than that. With the 2006 Casino Royale, they stripped the character to his essence, removed the gadgetry, tortured quips and descents into campiness that now render some of the earlier incarnations all but unwatchable, and devoted serious thought as to what makes this guy tick and why anybody would give a damn about anything that happens to him. It re-started the series with a pre-credit sequence detailing Bond's first kills for the 00 branch, which were not made to look jokey and lighthearted but instead ugly, brutal and sordid. One of them is a thug beaten to a bloody pulp in a bathroom, the other is a traitor shot dead while sitting in a desk chair; there is nothing at all glamorous about either of these kills, nothing to match the comfortable distance of that moment in Moonraker where an ambulance employed in a chase scene speeds past three separate billboards hawking commercial products that helped to underwrite the film.
It is only after the usual title song that we get the over-the-top action sequence that usually begins a Bond film. This one's a parkour chase in Madagascar, set in and around a construction site where Bond pursues a terrorist-for-hire. This tour-de-force, the reviewer's personal favorite action sequence in any of the Bond films, is to put it mildly not at all free of silliness; it employs, for instance, Roger Ebert's famous fallacy of the climbing killer, the guy whose attempts to get away amount to scaling an edifice from which he will eventually have to climb down. It is, much of the time, silly of the heroes to even bother to chase them. What redeems the sequence is its sheer bravura, the terrorist's mad ricocheting off walls and girders, and Bond's success at equaling him with blunt force and superior cleverness. If Buster Keaton had choreographed a Bond chase, it would be this one.
The set piece leads to a bad end for the terrorist and Bond in trouble with M for disgracing British Intelligence, from there to another action sequence in Miami that is almost as spectacular, and from there to the murder of a woman Bond had just callously seduced and abandoned in order to follow a lead. M (Judi Dench, who joined the series during Brosnan's tenure and is another fine addition) back-handedly praises Bond for not caring, and he actually doesn't seem to: but the moment is sufficiently well-written and performed to make it clear that Bond is not unaware of the human cost.
That brings him to Casino Royale, the introduction of Vesper Lynd, and the poker game played against Le Chiffre (who, here, is a banker for terrorists, who has invested heavily in the fallout from the act of terrorism Bond foils in Miami). At which point the film does something remarkable for the series, which is to say slow down; it spends almost an hour in the deepening of the relationship between Bond and Lynd and in intrigue at or surrounding the game.
The sexual tension between Bond and Lynd is remarkably adult, for the series, which at its worst saw Roger Moore seducing women half his age with no more than a raised eyebrow and a moron double intendre. By contrast, Lynd and Bond are presented as a pair of intensely guarded people, who acknowledge their mutual attraction right up front but also see through one another with a depth that keeps either from wanting personal involvement. His moment of compassion for her, during a moment of post-traumatic personal vulnerability, feels more real than anything that happened in some prior decades of the series.
The film's Le Chiffre is not entirely devoid of Bondian silliness either; he has a "malformation of the tear duct" that occasionally causes him to weep blood, a physical condition with absolutely no referent in medical science, given that the integral nature of human anatomy is that any wound that bleeds will eventually scab. It's there to make him look less than human. In truth, though, his nastiness does not exempt him from human vulnerability, brilliantly revealed during one scene where he and his lover are confronted in their hotel room by assassins sent by one of the terrorist leaders whose funds he misspent. Le Chiffre is reduced to a weeping, terrified mess, helpless as a knife is brandished against a woman he may or may not love, but at least likes enough to sleep with. This does not stop him from reverting to murderous type after he returns to the poker table, or has Bond strapped to that chair, but it gives him a depth no James Bond villain has had, before or since. The man may deserve to die, by the logic of the series, but it's impossible not to understand that he knows he's drowning.
His subsequent torture of the captured Bond is also more graphic, more genuinely painful, than anything ever seen in the series before. There is no gimmicky threatened castration of the impeccably dressed hero by laser, as in Goldfinger; no civilized gourmet meal before fight to the death, as in The Man With the Golden Gun. (Brosnan's Bond was captured by, and tortured by, the North Koreans for a full year, but his ordeal is shown during the usual a jazzy credits sequence, and has all the emotional impact of a music video.) Le Chiffre just tells the shivering, naked, helpless, and terrified Bond – brilliantly played by Craig — that there's simply no point in sophisticated torture techniques when it's downright easy to cause a man more pain than he can possibly stand. And then he whips Bond's bare testicles with a knot tied in a heavy rope. There are no saucy quips, no insouciant gestures of defiance; like Le Chiffre only a few scenes earlier, Bond is quickly reduced to a despairing shell.
Following Bond's subsequent deliverance from that predicament, his long recovery and his decision to abandon his secret agent ways for a life spent with Vesper – who in this context represents more than just a woman he loves, but an actual route back to humanity – makes perfect sense.
This is not the only time the movie Bond ever genuinely loved a woman for what promised to be longer than the interval between one mission and the next; the Bond played by George Lazenby loved, married, and tragically lost Tracy, the leading lady of On Her Majesty's Secret Service. The difference, in retrospect, is that it's a little hard now to see why that Bond fell for Tracy when he'd easily abandoned so many who were just as formidable. It's easy to see why Craig's Bond makes the decision he makes in Casino Royale. He's been hurt, this time, more than he's ever been hurt before. He already cared for the lady. His heart is open.
That it goes badly, indeed tragically, is just as inevitable. The series does need to continue, after all. But in this context it feels even worse when he angrily sums up his loss by telling M, "The bitch is dead." At that point, something has clearly died in him too. It's an emotional origin story, so much beyond the usual Bond material that it almost feels like a different genre. That it was immediately followed by Quantum Of Solace, which sought to continue the story but was because of many failings (not least among them an incompetent approach to its action scenes), one of the worst films of the entire series…a heady statement for anybody who's seen Moonraker…is not its fault.
As for Craig, this much needs to be said. He is clearly not the most distinguished actor to have played Bond. That would still be David Niven. Nor is he the most iconic. That would still be Sean Connery. But, aided by a screenplay that demands it of him, he gives the all-time finest performance as Bond, ever: but for the few flashes the other actors have been allowed, it is pretty much the only time that the character on screen was ever recognizably and consistently a human being affected and scarred by his violent world. Contrasted with some of the campier outings in the past, it's understating the case to say that it's barely recognizable as being about the same character, and more accurate to say that it barely seems to belong to the same genre.
Intelligence Analysis
The 1967 film: an insane, out-of-control farce that, at its best moments, lampoons the silliness of the Bond universe about as well as any film possibly could. It's more talent than usually appears on screen at the same time, all the more fascinating for the misfire. The 2006 version: a serious take on the same material that contains the best action sequence in the franchise's fifty-year history, and as close a look into the soul of Bond as we're ever likely to see. The two movies together: an object lesson on the best way to take a character seriously, and the best way not to.
And now, the wife chooses to accept her mission…
Commentary by Judi B. Castro
Casino Royale (1967). Directed by Val Guest, Ken Hughes, John Huston, Joseph McGrath, Robert Parrish, and Richard Talmadge. Screenplay by Wolf Mankowitz, John Law, and Michael Sayers, from the novel by Ian Fleming. Additional screenplay contributions by (take a deep breath), Woody Allen, Val Guest, Ben Hecht, Joseph Heller, Terry Southern, Billy Wilder, and Peter Sellers. Starring David Niven, Peter Sellers, Ursula Andress, Orson Welles. 131 minutes. **1/2
Casino Royale (2006). Directed by Martin Campbell. Screenplay by Neal Purvis and Robert Wade, with Paul Haggis, from the novel by Ian Fleming. Starring Daniel Craig, Eva Green, Madi Mikkelson, Judi Dench, Giancarlo Giannini. 144 minutes. ***
Other Known Versions: "Casino Royale," episode of TV-anthology series Climax! (1954), starring Barry Nelson as "Jimmy" Bond and Peter Lorre as Le Chiffre.
Let me get this out of the way first thing. The 2006 film is a better movie in every way possible, but I still love the 1967 Casino Royale oh so much more.
Now, I have the hard part, answering the why of the above statement.
The earlier CR is not prettier, grittier, or even close to good story telling. There are plots and characters left spinning in all directions, and a nonsensical ending that just is. But for all these flaws, it makes me laugh. Not rolling on the floor holding my belly and crying, just giggles and chuckles that last over the next few hours and days as I remember the silliness. Yes, even in my middle years, I still crack up over the insanity of the kitchen sink melee and the game of toss.
I could debate over the David Niven vs Daniel Craig, but both are great Bonds. Craig reinvigorates 007 as a man of action and decisiveness with little humanity or warmth. Niven plays Bond as a man hurt by his choices, yet emboldened by those same events. Could Niven have been a good JBond playing it straight? I believe so, but that market was never tapped since a certain Mr. Connery was busy playing the horn dog version.
Both films attempt to tell a pretty thin tale and both succeed in very different ways.
Villainwise, well come on guys, its Orson Welles playing cards, magic and drugs. The torture of the mind, so much more elegant than multiple slams to the nads. Neither is actually much of a baddie. Both versions are just Ponzi schemers trying to make up losses before they are lost too. Should I care what happens to these guys? Not like the old world domination tactics of say Dr. No. So I say who cares that they get offed before the final scenes?
So, where is the big difference that tilts me back to childhood? Ahhh…the music. Burt Bacharach combining with Herb Alpert. This is what a band parent's nightmares are made of. I played this stuff day and night for years and claimed I was practicing. 5 years of trumpet solos , guitar riffs, piano banging, and various other attempts usually drifting into some part of this film's music. Well, my folks could only blame themselves for letting me see CR so many times. The theme song is eminently hummable, and the big hit "The Look Of Love" was heard for years on AM radio (and many weddings I'm sure). I still love that terrible little mindworm of a theme.
OK, I've said it, this film is a childhood fave and as a high school brass playing geek, I adored the soundtrack (and still do!). Is it a better film deserving of all the praise I can heap upon it. Hell no! Its just sheer fun and I will adore it evermore. (But, don't forget how good the 2006 film is either).
Posted: January 18, 2011 in Anne Bancroft, Charles Durning, Comedy, Ernst Lubitsch, mel Brooks, Movies, Musicals, Nazis, remakes, Uncategorized
Tags: Anne Bancroft, Carole Lombard, Charles Durning, Christopher Lloyd, Comedy, Crimes and Misdemeanors, Jack Benny, Judgment at Nuremburg, Mel Brooks, Nazis, Remakes, Stalag 17, The Blues Brothers, The Great Dictator, The Producers, To Be Or Not To Be, Woody Allen
In which two of the funniest screen personalities of all time take one of history's least funny subjects. Who achieves greatness, and who never rises above kitsch?
Commentary by Adam-Troy Castro.
To Be Or Not To Be (1942). Directed by Ernst Lubitsch. Written by Melchior Lengyel and Edwin Justice Mayer, from an original story by Ernst Lubitsch. Starring Carole Lombard, Jack Benny, Robert Stack, Stanley Ridges, Sig Ruman. 99 minutes. ****
To Be Or Not To Be (1983). Directed by Alan Johnson. Written by Ronny Graham and Thomas Meehan, from the story by Ernst Lubitsch and 1943 screenplay by Melchior Lengel and Edwin Justice Mayer. Starring Mel Brooks, Anne Bancroft, Tim Matheson, Charles Durning, and Christopher Lloyd. 107 minutes. ** 1/2
Other Known Versions: Unseen by us, Maan Gaye Mughal-E-Azam (2008), Bollywood film starring Rahul Bose and Mallika Sherawat. (It does not deal with the Nazi era, but applies the plot structure to a period of civil unrest in India.)
A troupe of popular stage performers suffering through the Nazi occupation of Warsaw suddenly finds itself the only force standing between the invaders and the Polish underground. Circumstances force the married lead players into escalating heights of desperate acts of theatrical improvisation in the face of the enemy, as they struggle to retrieve and destroy a valuable list of freedom fighters before it falls into the hands of the Gestapo. The wife finds herself lusted after by powerful men who have the power to grant her favors in exchange for her sexual compliance or exile her to a concentration camp as punishment for refusing. The husband finds himself trapped in the lion's den, pretending to be someone he's not, and struggling to fool a brutal occupier with barely adequate lies that could fail at any time, thus leaving him vulnerable to torture or imprisonment or worse. All this takes place as their marriage teeters on the brink, thanks to the husband's discovery that the wife, who sometimes feels invisible in the face of his own monstrous ego, has had frequent illicit meetings with a dashing young admirer. In the end, their lives depend on an even more desperate stratagem to get them out of Poland before the Nazis find out what they've done and have them shot.
It doesn't exactly sound like the basis for comedy.
And yet, in the two versions of To Be Or Not To Be, it is: although the four decades that passed between the original and the remake alter the precise nature of the laughter in remarkable ways.
The original was written when the evils committed by the Nazis were current events, well-known in outline to the rest of the world but not yet appreciated to their fullest depths (there are prominent references to concentration camps, but not to mass extermination.) The third Reich was not considered a fit subject for comedy, although Charlie Chaplin had already released his merciless and passionate Hitler lampoon The Great Dictator (1940); critics and audiences were lukewarm or hostile, and Jack Benny's own father stormed out of the theatre in a rage at the sight of his beloved son in a Nazi uniform. The remake, by contrast, was made fifteen years after its star, Mel Brooks, elicited belly laughs by including a joyous Nazi musical, "Springtime for Hitler," in his riotous comedy The Producers (1968). Audiences had processed the idea that these profoundly evil people could also be seen as profoundly absurd people, without diminishing or denying their crimes, and screen portrayals of stupid or comical Nazis had become so common by then that they were almost a cliche…perhaps too much of a cliche, as it's difficult to watch Mel Brooks perform a production number in Nazi regalia during the 1983 version and not immediately wonder whether he hadn't already gone as far with this particular juxtaposition as he possibly could. (Broadway would someday show that he hadn't.)
The most obvious difference between the two perspectives is best summarized by words Woody Allen had a schlock producer played by Alan Alda speak in his film Crimes and Misdemeanors (1989): "Comedy is tragedy plus time." This line is sometimes presented today as genuine received wisdom, by parties who want us to know why certain terrible events are too fresh in our minds to be joked about, but can be fine comedic fodder if you first show the decency to wait fifty or seventy or a hundred years. (Hence the presumed upcoming boom in Triangle Shirtcoat Factory Fire humor.) The people who treat the axiom as if it makes sense somehow fail to notice that Allen put the words in the mouth of a pretentious jackass who produces nothing but pap, or that Allen's own character, his mouthpiece, mocks it with unremitting scorn. The truth, difficult as it might be for purveyors of decency to accept, is that worthwhile jokes can be made about anything, very much including the things that should not be joked about. Lenny Bruce brought the house down with a joke about the JFK assassination before the President was in his grave. The satirical newspaper The Onion produced a brilliantly hilarious issue about the 9/11 tragedy before the dust had completely settled on Manhattan. Chaplin's Dictator was about atrocities still taking place, that he saw with a clarity that still cuts like a knife today. Of course worthwhile (and not just "sick") jokes can be told about tragedies still fresh, as the proper received wisdom should be, "Comedy is Tragedy Plus Perspective." The more wit is applied to the perspective, the more brilliant the comedy. And it just so happens that the contemporary relevance of the 1942 version, a mere footnote to most audiences who view it today, can nevertheless be sensed. The movie still has the air of joking about things that should not be joked about…whereas the 1983 version feels distressingly safe despite the prominence of its well-meaning efforts to bring the Nazi persecution of both Jews and Homosexuals to the forefront. It's the work of people who have reduced Nazi aggression to shtick.
Joseph and Maria Tura (Benny, Lombard) or Frederik and Anna Bronski (Brooks, Bancroft) are the lead actors of a theatrical troupe in 1939 Warsaw. (From this point on, in discussing plot elements common to both films, we'll use the names the characters possess in the original and thus spare both essayist and reader the tiresome necessity of mentioning both versions every time we compose sentences that reference both versions. They are otherwise the same people. Assume it as given.)
Both Joseph and Maria are, to different extents, ego monsters. Maria wants to wear a slinky evening gown on stage in a scene where she's supposed to play a concentration camp inmate. Joseph imagines himself a great Shakespearean and can be trusted to milk Hamlet's soliloquy, which makes that a perfect time for Maria to rendezvous with Lt. Andre Sobinski, a young pilot who adores her (Stack in the first, Matheson in the second). The worsening international situation causes the cancellation of (in the 1942 film) a satirical play attacking Hitler; or (in the 1983 film) a comedy sketch about Hitler presented as part of a nightly revue.
The aborted Hitler sketch is in both films a splendid example of a plot element that functions equally well as exposition (providing them with all those Gestapo uniforms and one actor who can pass for Hitler), and story (the first stroke of their misfortunes)…nothing we should underestimate given that we live in an era when exposition often arrives with a thud.
Hitler invades. Sobinski escapes to England, where he joins the Polish Squadron and encounters Professor Siletski (Stanley Ridges / Jose Ferrer) a much-respected savant who "lets slip" to the fliers that he's returning to Poland on a secret mission and compiles a list of their family members, ostensibly in order to pass on messages. But he soon reveals that he's never heard of the Turas, a virtual impossibility for any residents of Warsaw. Clearly Siletski wanted the names to fuel retribution killings by the Gestapo. On orders from British intelligence, the flier parachutes back into Poland, to stop Siletski before he can pass on the names…but his arrival does not go unnoticed, Siletski has actually arrived in Warsaw ahead of him, and so he has to enlist Maria and then Josef to stop him.
Their various desperate improvisations force the male Tura to first confront Siletski in the guise of the local Gestapo chief, Colonel "Concentration Camp" Ehrhardt (or Erhardt, depending on the film), and when that backfires, to play another version of the same scene fooling the real Ehrhardt (Sig Ruman) with his own version of Siletski.
Comparing The Performances
Carole Lombard's Maria Tura is a luminescent creation who sells the story's conceit that no man, anywhere, can possibly spend thirty seconds in her company without immediately falling head-over-heels in love with her. Her flirtation with the young pilot is a kittenish crush, driven by a mutual attraction that – as if never less than 100% clear – she never for a moment intends to sully with any actual sex. This is a woman who loves her husband unconditionally but appreciates being romanced by a dashing young hero as long as it never really comes to anything; as it has the moral weight of a daydream, her shock when that pilot comes to believe that she actually does intend to leave her husband for him is genuine.
The role is unfortunately less persuasive in 1983 when she's played by Anne Bancroft; yeah, yeah, I know, Bancroft was a great actress and a beautiful lady who could exude sex when she wanted to, and whose comic timing was every bit the equal of Lombard's. But by 1983 she came off as the kind of woman you don't fall in love with until after you've bought her dinner and conversed with her for a while, whereas Lombard was every bit the bombshell capable of making men stupid on sight. (Of course, as with any observation having to do with ineffable questions of sexual attraction, your mileage may vary. Male or female, you might have hot screaming fantasies about Sig ("Concentration Camp Earhardt") Ruman for all I know.) For this viewer, at least, the helpless reaction the character evokes in men she doesn't know makes a lot more sense with Lombard than it does with Bancroft, and functions as a distracting, distancing element in the 1983 version.
Charles Durning bothered this viewer as Ehrhardt, mostly because he wasn't Sig Ruman. (A remake is often easier to take, for lovers of a classic original, when it's a substantial re-imagining; a film where many scenes are just acted more broadly invites more scornful comparison.) His immense physical bulk permits some inspired business involving his attempt to perch on the side of the desk. He also unfortunately mugs more, which is saying a lot. He adds an unnecessary, obscene hand gesture to the line, "What he did to Shakespeare, we're doing to Poland." Christopher Lloyd is an improvement as Schultz; he doesn't get any more to do than the 1942 Schultz did, but he is a recognizable actor to us and thus better at setting up the regular abuse his character receives. Tim Matheson is nowhere near as effective in his role as Robert Stack. Jose Ferrer is effective enough in his.
The big problem is really the transformation of Jack Benny's Tura to Mel Brooks's Bronski. Brooks can act, but when performing shtick he prefers to go for the rafters. Benny was renowned for his timing and can still achieve huge laughs without a word, just by the fatuous "dramatic" pause he takes before reciting Hamlet's soliloquy. It's a much funnier performance than the one we get from Brooks, who doesn't trust the material and all-too often underlines all the places where he expects us to laugh.
The Bigger Problem: The Odd Narrative Choices of the 1983 Version
Nor is that the only distancing element that damaged the 1983 version. The opening production number of "Sweet Georgia Brown", sung in Polish, is charming enough…but then you have the characters speaking in Polish when the movie needs them speaking in English. To transition to the desired tongue, the movie could have utilized the device that previously worked to fine effect in, among other places, Judgment at Nuremburg (1961) and The Hunt For Red October (1990), which is to say introducing the authentic foreign language and then fading into a translation, which then persists for the rest of the movie. The 1983 To Be Or Not To Be makes it a joke, presenting a godlike narrator who interrupts an argument between Brooks and Bancroft to announce that in the name of sanity, the rest of the movie won't be in Polish. Both leads look relieved and then complete the scene in English. To use a line oft-spoken by one of the original film's supporting characters, it gets a great laugh. But it also tells the audience, Don't worry about anything that follows. It's not real. It's just Mel Brooks doing more Nazi shtick. The "great laugh" turns all of the story's dancing on the edge of the precipice into a comedy routine. This is an even deeper mistake because the remake, armed with the benefit of hindsight, adds a band of Jewish refugees and a sympathetic homosexual to the list of people imperiled by the Nazis…touches which are absolutely artistically defensible, but collide with the film's hellbent determination to remain disposable froth.
The remake adds too many cheap jokes, among them the moment when Bronski almost breaks a leg when somebody wishes him good luck by saying, "Break a Leg!" Even worse than that is the introduction of a stage manager named Sondheim, who will of course within minutes be asked to send in the clowns. Oh, I get it. Ha, ha, ha. Nor is that the only ridiculously telegraphed joke: when Anna's flamboyant gay dresser is chased into the theatre during a show by Gestapo agents who want to deport him to a concentration camp for the crime of homosexuality, and we cut to Bronski on stage performing a production number that is an ode to the most beautiful lady of them all, we know it's only a matter of time before…yes…that dresser shows up on stage and in drag in a desperate attempt to avoid his fate. Again: oh, I get it. Ha, ha, ha.
Well-intended though it is, the jiggering with the story adds another serious logical problem. The 1942 version of the climactic escape makes something approaching sense. There, the troupe dons their old Nazi uniforms in order to infiltrates a Reich gathering at the theatre, in order to stage a failed assassination attempt, introduce their Hitler as the real one, and "for security reasons" get themselves aboard a motorcade to the airport. It's a risky and desperate gambit, but it has the benefit of simplicity, and you can imagine it working. The 1983 version complicates this elegant and entirely acceptable story device with the astoundingly convenient coincidence that has this very troupe hired to entertain for the Nazis at their old theatre, and the moral imperative to bring the Jewish refugees along. This is accomplished by dressing the Jews in burlesque clown uniforms and making them part of the show on stage, before they join the troupe in marching down the center aisle between rows of hysterically laughing Nazis. But for the frozen panic of one old woman, and the deft stratagem used to cover it (the only good part of the repurposed climax), this works exactly as planned.
But it shouldn't. Indeed, it introduces a gaping logical flaw that makes the rest of the story impossible.
In the 1942 version, the troupe is not part of the show on stage and therefore won't be missed by anybody in the theatre when they leave. In the 1983 version, the entire troupe escapes during a show without any of the guffawing Nazis ever noticing what they should notice, which is that the stage is suddenly empty and that the show has ended without so much as a curtain call. How does this work? At least, in The Blues Brothers (1980), when Jake and Elwood fled their concert carrying all the gate receipts, they left their band playing on stage, so it would be a few minutes before anybody realized that the lead singers had vanished…and even then, the cops, vengeful country music band, Illinois Nazis and Princess Leia still realized right away that the objects of their respective vendettas were pulling a fast one. But the motley gang of the 1983 To Be Or Not To Be left nobody behind. Explain how they got as far as four blocks without the airport being notified and you're a better man than I am.
Finally, and unbelievably given how much the remake otherwise hews to the original, it inexplicably drops the blackest joke in the classic 1942 film and replaces it with a moment of almost unbearable kitsch. In the 1943 version, the troupe disposes of the Nazis piloting the plane by calling them back into the cabin, where the hatch is now open, and having the false Hitler bark the order, "Jump!" The two pilots happily oblige. It not only gets the biggest laugh in the film, but functions as its most searing indictment of the Nazis, as people willing to do anything including destroy themselves without question if their Fuhrer commands it. The 1983 version simply drops this in favor of a more conventional climax in which the protagonists are nearly captured at the airport. It all, unbelievably, comes down to a not especially suspenseful action climax in which the escaping plane accelerates down the runway just ahead of pursuing Nazis, while Anna Bronski's pampered little dog races alongside it trying to hop aboard at the last minute. This is not just an inadequate replacement for a classic moment. It is a spasm of mindboggling awfulness. Even audiences who loved the remake booed that scene.
Footnote Facts
Jack Benny never again made another film as good as the 1942 To Be Or Not To Be. For the rest of his career, he derived comic mileage from mocking another, The Horn Blows At Midnight (1945), which though a financial failure that signaled the end of his movie stardom, was nowhere near as awful as he would paint it, forevermore. He would always be at his best on radio and television, playing his own long-lasting comic persona, a ridiculously petty, stingy, and conceited version of himself.
Carole Lombard left the set vocal about finding her work on To Be Or Not To Be the happiest and most enjoyable experience of her acting career. How sad, then, to report that it would turn out to be her last film before her death in a plane crash. She did not live to see its release. Today, it's probably the most often seen of all her films,though her name remains coupled to Clark Gable's as common shorthand for a certain kind of old-time Hollywood glamour.
The original film's portrayal of a "Concentration Camp Ehrhardt" as a dangerous fool who, whenever embarrassed by circumstances, immediately shifts blame to his underling by angrily shouting, "Schultz!" may have launched a little mini-meme all by itself. Billy Wilder's classic POW-camp comedy/drama, Stalag 17 (1953), featured a Sergeant Schultz who pretended avuncular affection for his American captives but took great pleasure in oppressing them. Popular sitcom Hogan's Heroes, wrong-headed for more reasons than we have desire to go into here, featured a significantly more harmless Sergeant Schultz whose buffoonish commandant also covered up embarrassments by angrily shouting his name.
The Jewish refugees of the 1983 version include, in an unspeaking role, a young boy played by one Max Brooks, son of the married leads. This is the same Max Brooks who later carved out his own bloody niche with the worldwide best seller World War Z.
Mel Brooks reprised his most reliable shtick, making musical hay of the Nazis, with the hit Broadway musical (and its subsequent film version, and no doubt future Remake Chronicles subject) The Producers.
1942 version, a terrific film that deserves its reputation as one of the greatest film comedies of all time. 1983 version, a flawed and messy re-creation that plays many of the same notes but never manages to achieve the same music.
And, now, the wife weighs in.
Commentary by Judi B. Castro.
To Be Or Not To Be (1942). Directed by Ernst Lubitsch. Written by Melchior Lengyel and Edwin Justice Mayer, from an original story by Ernst Lubitsch. Starring Carole Lombard, Jack Benny, Robert Stack, Stanley Ridges, Sig Ruman. 99 minutes. **
To Be Or Not To Be (1983). Directed by Alan Johnson. Written by Ronny Graham and Thomas Meehan, from the story by Ernst Lubitsch and 1943 screenplay by Melchior Lengel and Edwin Justice Mayer. Starring Mel Brooks, Anne Bancroft, Tim Matheson, Charles Durning, and Christopher Lloyd. 107 minutes. **
Wow. I have just completed watching both versions of TBONTB and while that may have contributed to the raging migraine that delayed my half of this blog, I can't say I didn't have a pleasant time.
I'm sure Adam has gone over the basics, and then ripped apart the little changes that Mr. Brooks (I am sure the writers had little say) felt were necessary for his more modern audience, neither version really tipped my scales.
The 1945 version has actors in a contemporary piece, doing what was controversial for the time. The 1983 version has actors playing history for schtick and just falling flat. I was however reminded of why "cheese" is used when passing gas. (See Ehrhardt's favorite joke). I also rediscovered my contempt for overblown humor (ie. the ongoing overemphasis in the Brooks version) which has always made me feel as if the filmmakers had little regard for my ability to follow the plot or even the simplest of jokes.
As to the casts of each film , with only one exception, they truly gave it their all. I adore Christopher Lloyd's "Schultz", but I'll take Robert Stack as the young flyer over Tim Matheson any day. I can't compare either leading lady without feeling a bit brutish. Carole Lombard was THE comic queen with the beauty and brains to match, I only wish we could have been privileged to see more. Anne Bancroft was a major theatrical threat, talent, brains, beauty and acting ability that proved itself all the way to the Oscars, her downfall here was following her husband's lack of subtlety.
Finally, our leading men. The underplayed Jack Benny and the overblown Mel Brooks. Now, I am not a Benny fan, not even slightly into the old TV bits, but here he wins hands down. Conversely, I am a Brooks fan and here I find all the Brooksian schtick unappetizing. When Brooks allows others to do his work, a subtler hammer is wielded.
So, which film comes out on top of this particular romp fest? Neither. I declare a tie with a need for a rematch to be held sometime in the next 20 years.


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Welcome to the NDSU Counseling Center!
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The mission of the Counseling Center is to encourage individuals to develop their unique potential by providing services and programs in a supportive environment.
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Members of the NDSU Community are invited to attend the summer session of Mental Health First Aid training. Call 231-7671 today to register.
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Mental Health First Aid in Higher Education
Today, 40% of young adults age 18-24 are enrolled in a two or four year educational institution. Statistics show that 75% of mental illnesses develop before age 25, making colleges ideal locations for early identification. However, the number one reason students say they do not use mental health resources is lack of knowledge that those resources even exist.
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Mental Health First Aid USA is a training — like regular First Aid or CPR — designed to give people the skills to help someone who is developing a mental health problem or experiencing a mental health crisis. The course uses role-playing and simulations to demonstrate how to recognize and respond to the warning signs of specific illnesses.
Who should take the course?
Mental Health First Aid for Higher Education is ideal for anyone who regularly interacts with students, both on and off campus, including:
Financial aid employees
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WHY MENTAL HEALTH FIRST AID?
Mental Health First Aid helps people know that mental illnesses and addictions are real, common and treatable and that it's OK to seek help. Research demonstrates this program's effectiveness in improving knowledge of mental illnesses and substance use, removing fear and misunderstanding and enabling those trained to offer concrete assistance.
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Please Note: As of August 14th, 2017, The Counseling Center no longer offers Career Counseling, as all Career Counseling has been moved to the Career Center.
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Published by NDSU Counseling Center
Last Updated: Tuesday, March 17, 2009

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JetSmarter tried to be the Uber of private jets. Now it faces lawsuits, losses and security questions.
A CNBC investigation: JetSmarter, a start-up that claimed to revolutionize jet travel, was actually losing millions of dollars a month and failing to deliver on its promises.
A 15-passenger JetSmarter plane ready for boarding.Anthony Behar / SIPA via AP
Jan. 10, 2019, 2:39 PM UTC
By Robert Frank, Scott Zamost, CNBC, Hannah Kliot and Jasmine Wu, CNBC
Last spring, Leonardo Galvez got an offer from JetSmarter that seemed too good to pass up.
The private-jet start-up was offering Galvez its top-of-the-line "sophisticated membership," which included unlimited, free private-jet flights and the chance to bring a guest. The membership usually cost $50,000 a year, but JetSmarter told Galvez that if he acted now, he could get three years for $97,500, which he accepted.
Weeks later, Galvez was stunned when he tried to book a JetSmarter flight. Rather than flying for free as promised, he was told he would have to pay 75 percent of the cost of his flights. The guest pass and other benefits also disappeared, he said.
"My heart dropped," Galvez said. "My membership meant nothing anymore. It was the easiest money I ever lost in my life."
Galvez filed a lawsuit against JetSmarter and its salesperson for a refund and damages. JetSmarter declined to comment on any specific lawsuits but said in a statement that "changes to our member services and benefits were within the rights of our membership agreement," which states that the company can "change, suspend or terminate" services or benefits at any time. The company also said members still have access to certain benefits.
But Galvez's story is shared by many JetSmarter customers interviewed by CNBC. More than five years after taking the industry by storm with an app that promised to become the Uber of private jets, JetSmarter has left a trail of angry customers, at least 13 lawsuits and concerns over security. While some customers are satisfied, others now call it a "fraud," a "high-tech shell game" and an "unlawful bait-and-switch," according to lawsuits filed against the company.
CNBC interviewed dozens of JetSmarter members, more than 20 former employees and a wide range of industry executives, vendors and partners of the company. It also obtained internal documents and communications, as well as member lists, investor presentations, and video and photos from JetSmarter passengers and crew.
What emerges is a picture of a high-flying start-up that claimed to be revolutionizing jet travel but was actually losing millions of dollars a month and failing to deliver on promises to customers and investors. With celebrity customers like Kim Kardashian and DJ Khaled, and an ambitious young CEO, JetSmarter became the first "flying unicorn," touting a valuation of over $1 billion. Now, the company is worth less than one-fifth that amount, based on its latest investment.
Behind its elite image, JetSmarter has used legal threats and lawsuits to silence critics, customers and the media. JetSmarter sent a letter demanding that CNBC "cease and desist" from contacting current and former employees who it said were bound by nondisclosure agreements.
JetSmarter CEO Sergey PetrossovCNBC
In a statement, JetSmarter said it "adamantly rejects any allegations of fraud or 'bait-and-switch' tactics." It said that like any start-up, it is going through a business transition and is "more positive about the health of our business than ever." It acknowledged "a number of members are unhappy with certain changes," but said the "vast majority of our core customers understand the necessity of these decisions to ensure the long-term viability of JetSmarter."
Yet after the company abandoned its original business plan, its path to profitability remains uncertain. It faces unknown costs from the customer lawsuits and refunds,as well as a class-action lawsuit that has gone into arbitration in Florida.
It also faces questions from two federal agencies — the Federal Aviation Administration and the FBI. The nature and extent of the inquiries is unclear, but one person interviewed by the FBI about JetSmarter said the agency asked about its financials and business practices. JetSmarter said it "is not itself the subject of an FBI investigation."
Whatever its future, JetSmarter has given up on the controversial business model that made it famous and attracted thousands of customers — all-you-can-fly private-jet memberships.
storyline'Heads will be chopped off': Video shows terrifying private jet flight
'It was a no-brainer'
In September 2016, then-Florida Gov. Rick Scott joined JetSmarter CEO Sergey Petrossov to cut the ribbon on the company's new multimillion-dollar headquarters office in downtown Fort Lauderdale.
"We're changing the way that people fly," the then-28-year-old Petrossov told the crowd. "We've democratized the space. We're really changing not just Fort Lauderdale, but the world."
In an industry crowded with start-ups and fleeting competitors, JetSmarter became a celebrated disruptor. Founded by Petrossov, a Moscow-born tech entrepreneur, it attracted a star-studded list of early investors that included Jay-Z and the Saudi royal family.
The premise was simple: Many of the private jets flying around the skies are empty or under-used. JetSmarter could buy those seats cheaply and use an app to connect the seats with passengers. A membership model would give JetSmarter recurring revenue and create a critical mass of customers — like, say, Netflix — that could allow the company to one day to go public.
JetSmarter doesn't own its planes, but charters them or books space from other companies. Initially, JetSmarter bought cheap seats on "empty legs" — flights that are empty because the planes are being repositioned after other flights. But as membership grew, JetSmarter began offering its own "shuttle services," where it would charter a plane on a popular route and fill it with JetSmarter members. Customers could also initiate their own charter flights, with JetSmarter selling the remaining seats to other customers.
The shuttles were a huge success, and membership grew to around 10,000. It opened offices in London, Dubai, Zurich, Moscow and Saudi Arabia. Members raved about the service, which gave them all-you-can-fly private jet service for as little as $7,000 or $9,000 a year. In the early years, JetSmarter also included free helicopter service to its airports as well as on-board catering.
JetSmarter member Sally HorchowCNBC
Sally Horchow, a Broadway producer who travels frequently between her Los Angeles home and New York, paid $9,000 for an annual membership in early 2015. She said she flew 13 times across the country in a Gulfstream IV. The flights were a fraction of the cost of other private-jet companies and were even cheaper than flying first-class on commercial carriers — all while avoiding the hassle of airport security.
"It was a no-brainer," Horchow said. "The value proposition in the original company was just kind of ridiculous." She tried to do the math to figure out how JetSmarter was making money on her membership, but the numbers weren't even close.
"It must cost this much money for gas alone to fly one person across the country times 12," she said.
Yet the savings for customers became huge losses for JetSmarter. A G4 typically costs more than $6,000 per hour to operate, so a one-way trip from New York to Los Angeles would typically cost more than $30,000. Even if those costs are spread out among eight to 10 passengers — and customers say they sometimes had JetSmarter planes to themselves — Horchow's membership wasn't enough to cover more than two round-trip flights.
Peter Maestrales, CEO of on-demand charter company Airstream Jets in Boca Raton, Florida, wrote a series of blog posts analyzing JetSmarter's economics in 2017. In one post, titled "Is JetSmarter a Ponzi Scheme?" he calculated that JetSmarter was losing up to $22,000 on an individual shuttle flight between New York and California.
"In order to keep the scheme afloat, they must keep increasing the number of active members," Maestrales wrote in the post, which he was forced to remove. "However, the more members JetSmarter signs up, the faster they burn through their investment capital."
Other private-jet companies had tried a similar membership model and failed. BlackJet, DayJet and Beacon all closed down due in large part because memberships could never cover the costs of flying.
Former BlackJet CEO Dean Rotchin
"It's like taking money and throwing it into a barbecue and burning it as fast as you can burn it," said Dean Rotchin, founder and former CEO of BlackJet, which folded in 2016. "The operating cost of these aircrafts is very expensive."
Former employees say JetSmarter was losing up to $5 million a month in 2016 and 2017. It was also spending heavily on marketing and events. It enlisted an army of celebrities, from Kardashian and supermodel Emily Ratajkowski to baseball legend David Ortiz and celebrity chef Robert Irvine, to tout the company as "brand ambassadors." It hosted champagne-filled parties in New York, Los Angeles and Miami to attract wealthy new members. And it sponsored booths and VIP lounges at yacht shows, art fairs and other gatherings of the rich.
Petrossov never disclosed or discussed the company's losses in his many press interviews and articles about JetSmarter. Privately, he told investors and employees that JetSmarter was like Amazon or Uber, which lost money for years to build scale. He also said JetSmarter was creating a "community" of wealthy consumers that it could eventually monetize through sponsorships, partnerships and other sales.
But even as JetSmarter was bleeding cash, Petrossov's family continued to profit. His wife, Lolita, was the company's chief operating officer and ran the day-to-day business, according to court documents and former employees. Petrossov's brother was also employed by the company. The Petrossovs live in a $2 million house in a gated community in Boca Raton.
To fund its losses, JetSmarter raised cash through three investment rounds. It said its third round, in 2016, raised $105 million and valued the company at $1.5 billion. A year later, however, JetSmarter needed more cash. Former employees said paychecks were delayed by four to five weeks when JetSmarter couldn't meet payroll. A shuttle-experience manager, Grace Lamey, sued the company alleging that she and other employees weren't being paid for overtime. (Lamey and JetSmarter settled and neither side would comment). JetSmarter said "all of our employees have always been paid."
JetSmarter ambassador Veit Couturier walks through a JetSmarter aircraft.Behar Anthony / SIPA via AP file
In early 2017, JetSmarter's president, Gennady Barsky, was arrested and charged with five counts of grand theft stemming from an earlier business that had no connection to JetSmarter. Barsky pleaded not guilty to all of the counts and left the company. The case is pending.
But Barsky was a key link to the company's investors, and his departure made fundraising more challenging, former employees say.
JetSmarter put together an investor presentation filled with optimistic projections to raise funds. It forecast revenue growing from $124 million in 2016 to more than $2 billion in 2019. It said membership would surge from 5,839 in 2016 to over 100,000 in 2020. Today, JetSmarter has about 8,000 members, according to people close to the company. The company declined to comment on any financials or its current membership numbers.
JetSmarter finally found an investor in Santa Monica, California-based Clearlake Capital, which invested alongside Leucadia National, now called Jefferies Financial Group. Neither Clearlake nor JetSmarter would disclose the amount. But people familiar with the deal said Clearlake and Leucadia invested around $75 million for ownership of about a third of the company. Clearlake also got priority in the event of a bankruptcy or liquidation as well as other considerations.
Jefferies declined to comment.
It's unclear how much Clearlake — which has become actively involved in running the company — has invested since the funding round. But its investment implied a valuation for JetSmarter of less than $250 million — a drop of more than 80 percent.
After Clearlake's investment, JetSmarter's salespeople were pushed even harder to recruit new members and raise cash, according to former employees. Andrew Pressler, a former salesperson at JetSmarter who was fired, said the sales team would conduct what they called "money grabs," using special deals, multiyear agreements or incentives to sign up members and bring in cash.
"We had to show our investors we were making money," Pressler said.
Former JetSmarter employee Andrew PresslerCNBC
The push accelerated in early and mid-2018, with salespeople pressing for larger dollar amounts from members. Sales staff told members that they had been selected for an elite, special deal on the sophisticated membership, where they could buy multiple years upfront for a discount.
Joann Bachewicz, a JetSmarter member in Lansing, Illinois, was told she could get three years of sophisticated membership for $87,092, a discount from the already discounted price of $97,500. JetSmarter told her the membership would include free flights under 3½ hours, a discount on longer flights and the potential to bring three guests, according to her lawsuit.
But last June, after signing up countless new sophisticated members, JetSmarter changed its terms. Members say they were no longer able to book free flights. After paying five-figures for memberships, they were now being told that they would have to pay additional charges to fly.
Members had already seen their benefits dwindle over the years. Beginning in 2016, Jetsmarter started eliminating its free chopper service and catering. Then it started charging members extra for longer flights and added other fees. It created different tiers of memberships, with a "simple," "smart" and "sophisticated" membership.
JetSmarter member David MicciullaCNBC
"I said to them that basically, this is what they call a bait and switch," said David Micciulla, a former media executive whojoined JetSmarter in 2017 with a $9,000 membership. "This wasn't what they sold me."
When customers complained or asked for refunds, JetSmarter pointed them to the lengthy legal language in their membership agreements that said the company could "change, suspend or terminate any of the services or benefits at any time."
In her lawsuit, Bachewicz said that when she asked JetSmarter to explain the changes, a JetSmarter representative wrote back "my hands are completely tied in this situation as these changes had come from our investors," adding "I completely understand (Bachewicz's) frustration but all the rules have change [sic]and wish there was something I could personally do."
Galvez, like many members, is no longer using JetSmarter because the added costs of the flights made it unaffordable. And because he borrowed the money from a friend, he is still paying back the loan.
JetSmarter member Leo GalvezCourtesy Leo Galvez
"This was a big hardship for me," he said. "I don't care who you are, $97,000 is a lot of money."
Some customers — especially higher-profile names — say they have gotten partial refunds or credits from the company. Other customers say they are pleased with JetSmarter's service and the recent changes. Stacey Feinberg, a venture capitalist in Los Angeles, said she joined JetSmarter in 2017 and after her first flight "I said, oh my God, this is the best thing since pizza delivery."
She said she welcomes the recent membership changes and fees because "I wanted them to raise prices to stay in business."
"You got an amazing opportunity. Be glad it lasted as long as it did. It's not really a form of transportation. It's a lifestyle," she said.
Yet even some of JetSmarter's celebrity clients remain bitter. Backstreet Boys singer Nick Carter said he became a member for around $15,000. He took only one charter on JetSmarter and said the service and experience was so "horrible" that he never flew JetSmarter again. He hired an attorney to try to get a refund, but JetSmarter refused.
"I felt like I was taken advantage of," Carter said.
Because JetSmarter's membership agreement requires members to settle their disputes in arbitration, many members have joined a class arbitration proceeding underway in Florida. Yet at least a dozen other customers have filed consumer-fraud lawsuits against the company, with many seeking seven-figure damages.
A lawsuit filed by Los Angeles-based attorney Derek Milosavljevic, which seeks at least $2 million in damages, alleges the company "reneges on its promises, regularly reducing and terminating services it actually provides and demanding new and ever higher additional payments for services it promised were included for an annual fee."
Drugs and large amounts of cash
Some JetSmarter customers and crew members have also raised concerns about security screening and some of the passengers aboard the flights.
On a flight from Las Vegas bound for New York last September, a 23-year-old music DJ named Maurice Paola started shouting and threatening to kill other passengers, according to court documents.
The pilot made an emergency landing in North Platte, Nebraska, and local authorities removed Paola from the plane and arrested him.
CNBC could not locate Paola for comment.
JetSmarter said "When we are aware of a passenger that could pose a security threat to our flights, we ban them from flying on our flights. Each operator follows standard protocols and procedures for when passenger behavior poses a risk to the safety of other passengers on the flight. In this case protocol was followed and as soon as Mr. Paola exhibited signs of inappropriate behavior, the flight operator made the decision to ground the plane."
The company said it also has the "most rigorous security standards in private aviation, including background checks on the majority of customers before they fly."
But a crew member and a passenger on the flight said there was no security check or passenger screening before takeoff.
Crew and passengers say they often saw passengers using JetSmarter to transport drugs or large amounts of cash. Security dogs are used for some JetSmarter flights to inspect bags, but members say there were many flights with no security checks.
"There were definitely drug dealers of all kinds who were carrying lots of cash on the planes, in you know, designer bags," Horchow said. "It was like $100,000 in a Goyard bag."
Another member said he witnessed a security dog reacting to a large suitcase being loaded onto the plane. When he asked the bag's owner about the screening, the passenger said: "The dogs are trained to sniff cash, and I have a lot of cash in the bag."
There are no clear federal laws limiting the amount of cash passengers can carry on a domestic private jet. Some private-jet companies impose their own limits of $10,000 for cash on board. International fliers are required by law to report amounts over $10,000. JetSmarter's membership agreement forbids passengers from carrying on more than $50,000 in cash.
One crew member for a private jet operator said he refused to fly JetSmarter flights starting last summer because of concerns over drugs.
"A guy gets on the flight in New York and flies to Miami and then returns two hours later," said the crew member. "He does that three times a week and you have to wonder. JetSmarter is behaving like a commercial airline, selling seats. But they don't have the same security. It's a big loophole."
JetSmarter said in a statement that it has "on-the-ground security teams that screen for narcotics, explosives, cash and weapons for shared flights." It added that its recent changes, including the reduction of member benefits, helps all of its customers by "elevating the quality of people flying together."
Waging a legal battle
JetSmarter's legal team has also waged an aggressive campaign against critics and former employees. Its membership agreements previously barred members from making any "negative comments" about the company or its executives "orally and in writing" — a requirement other jet companies say is highly unusual in the industry.
After posting his financial analysis of the company in 2017, Maestrales received a letter from JetSmarter calling his posts "false and defamatory." JetSmarter demanded that he remove the posts.
When he refused, JetSmarter sued him for libel, saying Maestrales was a competitor who published the statements to harm JetSmarter's business. After he failed to appear in court, a default judgement was entered for JetSmarter, and when Maestrales failed to remove the post, JetSmarter asked the judge to impose a daily fine and to "incarcerate" Maestrales until he complied with the court's order. Eventually, he removed the posts.
In a statement on the case, JetSmarter said that "while we always welcome customer feedback, we do not tolerate libelous or defamatory statements."
JetSmarter has also sued or allegedly threatened to sue former employees. After working at JetSmarter for six months, Pressler was fired. He said JetSmarter never gave him any warning or reason, but Pressler said it was likely because he was offered a job by a JetSmarter customer over a recorded phone line.
Pressler wrote an account of the firing and his work at JetSmarter on LinkedIn. He wrote that "I'm passionate about the product and the presence they have in the tech world," and that he "wanted nothing more than for JetSmarter to prevail." But he said getting fired so suddenly after relocating to Florida just for JetSmarter was "cold hearted" and that "usually the ones that screw you end up getting screwed."
The JetSmarter app allows customers to book seats on its flights.CNBC
The next day, JetSmarter's general counsel sent Pressler a letter demanding that he immediately remove post, which it said was "false and libelous," and violated Pressler's employment agreement that barred him from disparaging the company or any of its executives. The letter said Pressler was fired for "poor performance" and that he had "lied to customers regarding JetSmarter's products and services." Pressler denies the claims, but quickly removed the LinkedIn post.
"It's extremely weird," Pressler said. "I'm an employee that was there for less than six months. ... Why were they so threatened by me? I had no idea."
JetSmarter said it does not comment on specific employee matters.
Last September, JetSmarter's general counsel, Anastasija Snicarenko, sent a letter to CNBC demanding that it "immediately cease and desist" from calling former and current employees. It said current and former employees were bound by confidentiality and nondisclosure agreements and that CNBC was "tortuously interfering with JetSmarter's contractual relationships."
After requesting an interview with Petrossov, JetSmarter sent a legal list of conditions for the interview, including a requirement that prohibited from quoting former or current employees. CNBC refused the conditions and Petrossov declined to be interviewed.
Veit Couturier of JetSmarter stands on a plane's stairs as it is prepared for departure.Behar Anthony / SIPA via AP file
Today, JetSmarter is betting on a new business model — acting as a crowdsourcing middleman between passengers and private jets. JetSmarter customers can charter a plane by buying a minimum number of seats (usually three or four) and JetSmarter sells the rest to other customers. Rather than relying on members, the company is now touting its growing "total customer base" that includes nonmembers. JetSmarter is still not profitable but is now making money on some flights, according to an investor in the company.
Still, JetSmarter has another cloud over its future — federal inquiries. One person familiar with the FAA said that after the Paola flight, the agency is looking into whether JetSmarter is complying with rules governing commercial versus private aviation flights. If it's found to be in violation, JetSmarter could face large fines or challenges to its continued operation.
The FBI is also asking questions about JetSmarter, according to people familiar with the matter. One industry executive, who asked not to be named, said he was interviewed this fall by two FBI agents, who asked about everything from JetSmarter's business and sources of cash, to possible drugs and cash being transported on JetSmarter flights.
A spokesman for the FBI said the agency "does not confirm/deny the existence of an investigation as a matter of policy."
JetSmarter said, "We were in contact with the FBI in response to its investigation of Maurice Paola. We have fully cooperated with them and all authorities. JetSmarter has never been the subject of an FBI investigation." It added that "JetSmarter has not received any request for financial information from the FBI."
Robert Frank is a reporter and editor for CNBC.
Scott Zamost, CNBC
Scott Zamost is a senior investigative producer for CNBC.
Hannah Kliot
Hannah Kliot is an associate producer for CNBC.
Jasmine Wu, CNBC
Jasmine Wu is a contributor to CNBC.com.


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The future is purple
A truck allows the aborigines to receive dialysis treatment away from the big cities in their home environment
It is a sad day in the desert. When really, there should be cause for celebration: Jedda Marshall has finally come back to Papunya after a long time away. But an oppressive calm has fallen upon the community in the Australian outback. The 300 or so people who live here have withdrawn into their houses. Jedda Marshall glances up at the clouds and says nothing. A member of her family has died. Today he will be buried, and the entire community is in mourning. But at least she can be here on this important day. And this is a major step forward.
It has been a while since Jedda Marshall lived in Papunya. She is one of many Australian aborigines whose lives are impaired by kidney damage. That is why she has had to live where the dialysis machines are: in Alice Springs, 240 kilometers from Papunya. The only major city in the center of Australia is known as a gateway for visitors to Mount Uluru, formerly called Ayers Rock. There are hotels, restaurants, shops, an airport and a railway station for tourists. But aborigines such as Jedda Marshall, who have been torn from their communities, find it extremely hard to find social support and a home in Alice Springs.
At home again
Today, Jedda Marshall is back in the place where she was born, went to school, gave birth to seven children and worked in a shop before becoming ill. She owes this to the Purple Truck which has brought her home to Papunya. The Purple Truck is on its maiden trip with a complete dialysis station on board and Jedda Marshall is the first person to try out the new service. Putting the truck on the road was a joint effort by a number of organizations, including Fresenius Medical Care, which provided the equipment and helps to carry out dialysis treatments.
The Purple Truck is much more than a medical facility on wheels. "Having to leave their home country puts a terrible strain on the patients and their families," says nurse Deb Lillis, who accompanies Jedda Marshall. The truck is of great social importance, as it allows the aborigines to receive dialysis treatment away from the big cities in their home environment.
The social dimension
In the 1990s, the aboriginal community in central Australia started to feel the consequences of an increase in kidney disease for the first time. The rising number of new cases now meant it was no longer just an individual problem. It had long taken on a social dimension, weakening the small communities in the outback and the cultural tradition of the aborigines.
"Important members of the community live permanently in remote cities and don't have the opportunity to return to their country and participate in community life," says Sarah Brown, manager of the truck and driving force behind the mobile dialysis facility. Oral tradition is a crucial part of aborigines' culture: Traditional knowledge, manifested in song, is passed on from the old to the young. "As it is mainly the older members who are affected," says Sarah Brown, "the community's entire pool of knowledge is jeopardized."
I used to live in a hostel and am now staying with another family, but I really don't know what will happen after that.
Jedda Marshall
Dialysis patient
The pictures take on a political meaning
At the end of the 1990s, the aborigines of the Western Desert decided to take things into their own hands to help members of the community affected by kidney disease. The artist cooperatPapunya Tula donated four collaborative paintings, which were sold for around 800,000 € at an art auction in the Art Gallery of New South Wales in Sydney in November 2000. With this money, they founded a charitable organization called Western Desert Nganampa Walytja Palyantjaku Tjutaku Aboriginal Corporation (wdnwpt), which roughly translated means "Making all our families well".
Since then, wdnwpt has been busy improving the situation of patients with kidney disease. Sarah Brown is the good spirit behind wdnwpt's activities. For many years now she has been working in the outback. "I like the country's more remote regions and to work with Aboriginal people to improve the lives of their families is a real honor," she says.
Since wdnwpt was founded, the number of dialysis patients has increased steadily. And the problems are growing, too. "The aborigines have a strong bond with their communities and the place where they live," confirms the truck manager. In the past, the Pintupi led a nomadic life at one with nature. Even today in their villages, they prefer to sleep outdoors, under the stars. So, when they are obliged to be in the city, confined to a small room in a residential home, they also suffer psychologically," as Sarah Brown observes on a daily basis.
But now, thanks to the Purple Truck, patients in Alice Springs can visit their communities for a few weeks to participate in family events and religious ceremonies.
The 40-foot truck, painted with motifs from the Papunya Tula artist group, is large enough to accommodate a dialysis machine, a water treatment unit and various filter technologies. A 900-liter water tank for dialysis and a 450-liter water tank for other uses are also integrated, as well as a bathroom and sleeping quarters. A power generator can compensate for bottlenecks in the electricity supply. "The vehicle is equipped to be on the road for several weeks at a time," says Sarah Brown.
A driver and a nurse accompany the truck. "We have a lot of experience operating dialysis machines under extreme conditions," says Deb Lillis, who coordinates the team and is on board herself during the maiden trip to Papunya. But in practice, operating complex machines in the wilderness can be a challenge, as soon becomes evident.
Fresenius Medical Care played a key role in the project by providing the technical installations. "In Adelaide, where the truck was equipped, our engineers worked on the concept for a long time," says Margot Hurwitz, ceo of Fresenius Medical Care Australia & New Zealand. After all, the technology has to be extremely robust. Most of the roads in the outback are dirt roads, dusty corrugated tracks that usually only an all-terrain vehicle can manage. Here the truck is subjected to extreme mechanical strain. Add to this the climatic challenges in the desert.
Although aborigines only make up 2% of Australia's total population, they represent 10% of those needing dialysis. "Aborigines are up to 15-30 times more likely to get kidney disease than other population groups," says Margot Hurwitz. This is mainly due to poverty, diabetes and hypertension as well as premature birth, skin infections and harsh environmental conditions. In Papunya hope is growing that the medical and social challenges will now start to improve. Jedda Marshall's return proves that the road to dialysis in Alice Springs is not just one way.
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Euagathis transitor är en stekelart som beskrevs av Szepligeti 1914. Euagathis transitor ingår i släktet Euagathis och familjen bracksteklar. Inga underarter finns listade i Catalogue of Life.

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Welcome to Stockholm Sjukhem. We have cared for people with chronic or long-term illnesses since our inauguration in 1867. Stockholms Sjukhem is a non-profit organization.
Stockholms Sjukhem is a private hospital and nursing home owned and operated by a foundation formed in the 1860s. The work is primarily conducted on the basis of care agreements with municipalities and Stockholms county council. Our areas of expertise and profiling are advanced home care, geriatric care, rehabilitation, palliative care, primary care and residential care for people with illness because of old age or neurological or dementia illnesses.
Stockholms Sjukhem has a unit for research, development, education and innovation collaborating with, among others, Karolinska Institutet.
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Mike Olson: Far from Incidental
Craig M.	CD/music reviews	 June 22, 2010
Mike Olson — Incidental (Henceforth, 2009)
For all its spare demeanor on the outside, Incidental starts with a bang: a snappy, composed line for strings and a strong backbeat on the drums. It's exciting and dynamic and … nothing like you'd expect after reading the description in the liner notes.
Olson provided some notated string parts, but the rest of the performance was improvised by the 18 players, mostly one at a time, based on graphical scores or outright suggestions by Olson. Olson then cut up those recordings, using the computer to painstakingly manufacture the six movements that make up Incidental. It's a deliberate plunderphonics, and a radical way to create a composition.
I was expecting a high-art atmosphere, but really, Olson draws from disciplines including jazz, funk, and new age — as well as, yes, high-art classical and abstract improvising. Each track has its own personality, and Washington's drums, always crisp and upbeat, thread some continuity though the piece.
As noted above, "Incidental 1" starts out like more of a funk jam with strings; in mood, it reminds me of the free but danceable improvisations on Christian McBride's terrific, 3-CD Live at Tonic. This track doesn't stay danceable for long, but the drums, bass, and guitar keep that same fusiony popping sound going.
Of course, that's not to last. "Incidental 2" opens with a fiery drum solo by Kevin Washington that gives way to a long dark corridor of eerie sounds. It's like a soundtrack to the corridor/descent scenes in House of Leaves.
"Incidental 3" is swampy and slow, but Washington's snappy drums bring a ghost reflection of funk into the mix. Springy guitar and spacey moog kick the tempo up a bit later on, a loungy avant-garde occasionally interrupted by swirls of horns. The piece feels built, like a well conducted improvisation, or even a composition with high degrees of freedom. Instruments enter and exit in phases that help the piece shift moods; the music tenses up, relaxes, tenses again.
"Incidental 4" is more what you'd expect from plunderphonic improv: lots of small, sharp-turn snippets held together by some some post-apocalyptic synth sounds. Large chaos built from smaller chaos. But then, another mood shift: "Incidental 5" is a polished sheet of glass: Ethereal vocals and shimmering droned tones forming an ambient lullaby. Acoustic guitar splashes put a tuneful face on the ending.
"Incidental 6" is a fusiony peek into the future, with far-horizon synths, bubbly electric bass, and some of that snappy, drum-machine-like drumming. There are moments where the guitar noodling and electric piano might give you '70s flashbacks.
I don't know how many more times Olson can use this composing method — mainly, I'm wondering what would keep it from sounding the same. (Alternatively, couldn't he create a wholly new piece from this same pool of fragments?) But I'm glad he did it at least once. The final album sounds like a well put-together group effort.
http://www.plunderphonics.com/
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One thought on "Mike Olson: Far from Incidental"
Ashvina says:
Electric Quitar are great ways to achieve music that could be seem impossible.