In the world of Hollywood movies, the name Ishtar is synonymous with flop.
Ishtar, Elaine May’s 1987 version of a “Road to Morocco” type movie, stars Warren Beatty and Dustin Hoffman, and when it came out, it was an unmitigated flop, recouping only $14M of its $55M price tag.
The press that preceded its release was so bad that, despite its star quality and Elaine May’s impressive credentials (A New Leaf, Heaven Can Wait, Reds, Tootsie), I never went to see it, never rented it, and never even considered buying it.
Then, yesterday, I found this 27-year old movie available for streaming on Netflix. Curious, I queued it up.
Comedies usually disappointed me.
Romantic comedies try too hard. Slapstick comedies are too juvenile. Buddy” and “Road” comedies rely too much on toilet humor. If I like a comedy, the writing will be pretty wry, it will be fast-paced, full of repartee, and it will have just the right amount of absurdity amid a plot that is plausible enough for me to agree to go along with the conceit.
In other words, when it comes to comedies, I’m a tough room.
When Ishtar started, it was slow, it was a mundane, and it wasn’t at all witty. So, why was I laughing? More to the point, why did I continue to watch this legendary turkey, lasting through its entire 1:47 length, chuckling all the way?
Ishtar is the story of two untalented songwriters (Beatty and Hoffman). The best gig they can get is a $90/week lounge act in Morocco. The set-up for this premise is long and filled with the kind of social awkwardness that’s usually limited to SNL-character-based movies, but the believability that Beatty and Hoffman bring to their roles take the material from yawn-worthy and painful to hilariously absurd. Throw in some truly bad songs (courtesy of master songwriter Paul Williams), play against type by turning the notorious womanizer Beatty into a socially inept nebbish, and then dress Hoffman up like Journey’s Steve Perry at the height of his ’80s head-banded majesty, and you’ve got an understated yet totally farcical comedy that works on several levels.
I thought it was hilarious, primarily due to the combination of May’s cockamamie plot and the utterly deadpan and sincere delivery provided by the entire cast. I laughed out loud frequently, just at the inanity of it all, and it kept me entertained all the way until the credits rolled at the end.
When Ishtar came out, reviews were mixed–the NYT loved it, Roger Ebert called it “truly dreadful”–but three test screenings of the movie were overwhelmingly positive.
So, why did Ishtar do so poorly? How did it become a byword for failure?
For the answer, you have to look back at events preceding its release. Tales of massive cost overruns were gleefully told in the press, contretemps between creators and the studio filled the trade papers, and (according to some) the press was eager to stick it to Beatty for his habitually unfriendly relationship with the media. All these factors added up to one thing: Ishtar was Dead on Arrival. The film opened in a thousand theaters and no one went. Elaine May is quoted as saying, “If all of the people who hate Ishtar had seen it, I would be a rich woman today.”
So, while Ishtar was a flop, it’s also a pretty good movie.
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I sometimes think low expectations have helped me to enjoy a film more. I went with some friends to see James Cameron’s TITANIC, and due to the massive hype, I really expected a good film. I sat uncomfortably in my seat through most of the movie, watching a historic tragedy turned into a cheesy romance.
Then . . . years later, I was dragged to see Avatar, and I expected to be suffering in my seat for hours. I expected it to be just awful . . . and because of my incredibly low expectations, I rather enjoyed myself. Is Avatar a better film? Probably not 🙂
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Good point. I had high expectations for the movie version of _Dune_, and we laughed through a lot of it–that “Oh my God I’m so embarrassed for you” kind of laughter.
In this case, I wonder if, because we were told Ishtar was bad, people saw it as bad, instead of seeing the cleverness that was built into it. It’s not an “in your face” comedy, and I can see how preconceived notions could change perceptions.
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I watched it on HBO back when it was first available on cable and didn’t like it. However, I realize I went into it informed by the press (including the stupidity of casting Beatty as the nebbish) and, as a result, hated it. I wonder how it would look now. Hmmm…
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For me, the fact that they cast against type in both cases was part of the fun. Hoffman as the ladies’ man was as incongruous as Beatty’s nebbish. Think of Hope and Crosby, but swap in Beatty for Hope and Hoffman for Crosby, and it ratchets up the absurdity. For me, anyway.
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