SpuffyWeb Sadly Over-hyped

FuzzyTagz If the ambition is to provide two hours of instantly forgettable, popcorn-munching escapism, it succeeds.

ThedevilChoose When a movie has you begging for it to end not even half way through it's pure crap. We've all seen this movie and this characters millions of times, nothing new in it. Don't waste your time.

Staci Frederick Blistering performances.

AlanSquier Okay, now that I have your attention, I don't guarantee that you will rate this the 7/10 I do, even if you qualify as an intelligent and advanced film buff. However, I do believe you will find something to chew on here.It's written and directed by noted author Norman Maileer. And it's tough in every meaning of the word.The rough plot sounds like a rather typical noir. An excessively drinking author given to memory blackouts doesn't know if he committed a murder or not.Believe me, it's not that simple and Mailer takes us down a long winding and convoluted path before we know the whole story. At times, it seems ludicrous, and although I disagree with the Razzie noms it got, I understand. This is the type of movie which some will find inexorably bad.However, it weaves a spell and the tough will stay with it because it's addictive. You will laugh at inappropriate times and groan sometimes, and yet the very serious film buff will continue watching it, and be glad he/she did. And I do believe that many will find this rewarding although certainly not unflawed. Maybe Mailer wanted it flawed.As others mentioned, Wings Hauser is the perfect actor in this. However, Ryan O'Neal gave this his all, and veteran B film noir actor Lawrence Tierney also adds to this.Some will love it; some will hate it. I did neither, but I did enjoy it. There was a point, the chain connecting the characters in their sex lives and in the chain of violence.Love it or hate it, I suspect you will remember this one and not consider it a waste of time.

patrickboyle-1 I read the book last year. After so many years of disappointments I tried once again to find a piece by Norman Mailer that had the impact on me of "The Naked and the Dead". Alas "Tough Guys" is not that book. However it is a genuine hoot. A hard boiled mystery with a rapid succession of over the top scenes and characters. Not by any means an important book but a a great light (or lite) read.The movie however is just a mess with the exception of Wings Hauser. I was charmed that Mr. Hauser the King of the B Movies finally got a part that let him eat the scenery. John Bedford Lloyd is a problem as the protagonist's effete and ineffective rich college buddy. Lloyd is a big guy and a superior actor. He has been type cast as the the big guy in "The Abyss" and several other roles. He towers over poor little Ryan O'Neal. The nerdy Lloyd character was supposed to have always looked up to the physical O'Neal character. Mailer the director wouldn't change the lines written by Mailer the writer. Poor Lloyd spends all of his scenes hunched over trying to look smaller.It's even worse than the Shawshank Redemption where a 6'5" Tim Robbins tried to be the small weak guy the other cast members talk about.We keep hearing that most of directing is casting but why do we get Peter O'Toole a foot to tall for Lawrence and Mel Gibson a foot to short for Wallace?

bmacv When Lawrence Tierney utters the line that gives Tough Guys Don't Dance its title, he evokes the stoic, hard-boiled codes of post-war noir, felt in films he made like Born to Kill, The Bodyguard and The Devil Thumbs A Ride. And when Isabella Rossellini shows up, she suggests David Lynch's kooky and subversive Reagan-era suspense movies like Blue Velvet. These homages mark two of the many streams that flow into Norman Mailer's rhapsody on themes of sexual intrigue, multi-tiered duplicity and garish murders. (Mailer directed his movie from his 1984 novel.) It's a baroque contraption that comes close to self-parody - and may even cross the threshold - but neither is it just a fling at film making by a celebrity author intoxicated by his own publicity. The forlorn setting is Cape Cod under the sign of Sagittarius: the dunes and the bars empty, and the Atlantic is choppy and gunmetal grey. Ex-con Ryan O'Neal (his boyish superstardom well behind him) has been drinking heavily since his wealthy if white-trash wife (Debra Sandlund) left him; one morning he wakes to find a tattoo on his arm and his jeep's upholstery soaked in blood. Circumstances lead him to a burrow where he stashes his marijuana harvest; in it he finds the severed heads of his wife and a woman he had picked up (along with her boyfriend) a few nights before. The clues he starts piecing together lead him back down paths that wend through his own none-too-savory past. There's the out-of-town `couple' with whom he had spent a hard-drinking night (Frances Fisher and R. Patrick Sullivan); a woman he had once loved (Rossellini) now married to Provincetown's sadistic Chief of Police (Wings Hauser); another woman he had met when she was married to a wife-swapping Christian preacher (Penn Jillette) and who later wed a rich, spoiled Southern boy (John Bedford Lloyd) then, ultimately, O'Neal, whom she recently left. Helping him find his way is his gruff, cancer-ridden father (Tierney). What plot line there is hangs on cocaine (maybe) and several millions, but that's but a pretext for Mailer to worry the preoccupations, even obsessions, which crop up again and again in his work, most notably the yin/yang of eroticism and violence. The women come across as predatory sirens but end up being almost beside the point - they're prizes for sexual competition between males, conflict that shades into edgy attraction, right up to taunting flirtation. (The movie is loaded with homosexual references, generally pejorative - the bisexual boyfriend is even given the name `Pangborn' - and the continuum of couplings, both on screen and in the back story, results in a very kinky daisy chain in which everybody save Tierney might just as well have slept with everybody else. Mailer comes close to suggesting that two men who have slept with the same woman share an implicit homosexual relationship themselves.) Coming to Tough Guys Don't Dance expecting anything like a conventional suspense film (even something `post-' or `neo-') is to court disappointment. One comes for Mailer, who's like the little girl with the curl right in the middle of her forehead: When he's good, he's very, very good, but when he's bad, he's horrid. How the proportions weight out in this movie can be argued, but adventurous and provocative nuggets nestle among some very bad choices (the acting runs the gamut from rather good to execrable, often within the same performance). Caveat spectator: wildly uneven and sometimes grotesquely macho, Tough Guys Don't Dance is far from negligible.

foxion What were they thinking? Didn't anybody read the script or did they read it and then lack the guts to tell Mailer it didn't work? Whatever the reason this is one pathetic film. Bad script and hilariously bad acting. It is the bad acting that keeps you watching. You want to find out how bad can it get. In most films, even bad ones, you can find something to recommend it. I can't think of anything to recommend about this one.