by Patrick Bromley
With Bone Tomahawk released several months back and now Quentin Tarantino's The Hateful Eight currently playing in theaters, there was a lot of talk about Kurt Russell (and his mustaches) in 2015. I have long been obsessed with Kurt Russell since I was a kid and basically wanted to be him (once I outgrew wanting to be Michael J. Fox which, to be fair, I never actually outgrew). It wasn't until I was watching Bone Tomahawk in late October that I finally came to a realization, writing something on Twitter to the effect of "I don't know why I always struggle to name my favorite actor when it is so clearly Kurt Russell." So there it is. With this in mind, I present over 24 consecutive hours of Kurt Russell movies.
10 a.m. - The Barefoot Executive (1971, dir. Robert Butler)
Noon - Escape from New York (1981, dir. John Carpenter)
Fargo, Snake Plissken is one of my favorite movie characters of all time, aided no doubt by Russell's brilliant performance -- a swaggering, whispering takedown of the Clint Eastwood antihero that's funny without ever going for laughs. I love almost every single thing about this movie: I love the music, I love the visual effects, I love the cynicism. I love the Kurt Russell.
2 p.m. - Overboard (1987, dir. Garry Marshall)
4 p.m. - Stargate (1994, dir. Roland Emmerich)
6:15 p.m. - Dark Blue (2002, dir. Ron Shelton)
8:15 p.m. - The Thing (1982, dir. John Carpenter)
10:15 p.m. - Bone Tomahawk (2015, dir. S. Craig Zahler)
12:30 a.m. - Death Proof (2007, dir. Quentin Tarantino)
Grindhouse double feature, starring Kurt Russell as a slasher who uses his car to murder women. This is often referred to as Tarantino's "worst" film, but I don't agree with that a) because I love it and b) because I don't think "worst" and Tarantino's films belong in the same sentence together -- not yet, anyway. The role of Stuntman Mike was originally intended for Mickey Rourke, who probably would have been very good but who would have done something entirely different, and Kurt Russell is so good -- so charming, so menacing and ultimately such a cowardly pussy -- that it's impossible for me to imagine anyone else. His performance exposes the lie not just of all of cinema's killers, but of any American male who has ever tried to intimidate or hurt a member of the opposite sex. No way all of this is going on in anyone's "worst" movie.
2:30 a.m. - Used Cars (1980, dir. Robert Zemeckis)
4:30 a.m. - 3000 Miles to Graceland (2001, dir. Demian Lichtenstein)
6:30 a.m. - Tango and Cash (1989, dir. Andrey Konchalovsky)
8:30 a.m. - Sky High (2005, dir. Mike Mitchell)
10:30 a.m. - Big Trouble in Little China (1986, dir. John Carpenter)