Recasting: Ali Larter's Landman character as Big Nick's ex-wife, with a joke that she would respond less gracefully and might stab him. — Chris Ryan
A prequel about young Nick's football years and entry into Los Angeles policing is proposed after discussing Timothée Chalamet's next role. — Bill Simmons
The Chappelle idea receives immediate objections; the proposer ultimately says he was wrong despite imagining gun training and jokes at Nick’s expense. — Chris Ryan
The existing cast is ultimately retained. — Bill Simmons
A funnier Bosco is proposed, with Flea invoked as a model for someone who could mock Nick. — Chris Ryan
Shane Gillis as Murph is offered as another example of a cop who could supply a few jokes about Nick.
Nicolas Cage would have suited Big Nick in the mid-to-late 2000s but has aged out of that version. — Chris Ryan
Pedro Pascal is a contemporary Big Nick possibility, with physical credibility and apparent behavioral authenticity important to the role. — Chris Ryan
An unspecified Wagner is another possibility; the transcript does not establish a surname. — Chris Ryan
Travolta’s later Michael and Phenomenon are read as attempts to recover the benevolent-simple-man role; Sean Penn claimed he was a second choice. — Bill Simmons
For Vaughn’s role at the time, Owen Wilson and 2005 Bradley Cooper are considered, with Cooper bringing an angrier edge; Byron Mayo is jokingly floated.
Ghosted’s Chris Evans and Ana de Armas are offered as a modern comparison but dismissed as lacking chemistry; Anyone but You inspires more anticipation. Tom Holland and Zendaya are floated as the biggest current couple, followed by a joking on-set breakup scenario. — Amanda Dobbins
The new category, from a listener, is to recast one part; two would recast nothing because the movie is perfect, one would put Dave Chappelle in the Mo McCray part, with Kate McKinnon as a joke; asked which part they would play, the answers are Borracho and Murph, and Jamie Foxx is rejected as too old.
The film missed spots to stunt cast: the disgruntled wife could have been someone more famous like a 2019 Catherine Keener or Jessica Alba, and Gus could have been funnier with Chappelle, a take the other two vote down.
Gus could have been dialed up with Dave Chappelle or Jamie Foxx for three jokes, but the others say the film cannot have humor because it is built as Big Nick versus Ray Merriman, two alpha gorillas on a collision course, signaled by the on-screen names and matching back-shot introductions.
Mo McCray's best moment, pulling Big Nick away from the women at Benihana while giving them a salacious look, shows the crew is as dirty as Nick; the Chappelle wish is compared to Laker fans preferring Derek Fisher to Chris Paul.
For 50 Cent's part, Ray Lewis or Ed Reed are imagined as stunt casting, Idris Elba is too famous and old, and swapping Mo McCray and 50 would make a worse movie because the cop needs to be the slimy, skinnier one.
The script floated around for a long time with little record of who nearly played whom; Sylvester Stallone was attached at one point, twenty-five years too late, and on the Skyscraper set The Rock told Pablo Schreiber he was supposed to do the movie ten years earlier, when he would have been a lead rather than the 50 Cent part, since villain Rock still does not exist.
The film had a long, circuitous development of ten or fifteen years, at one point at Relativity, with various names attached; it benefits from not being the Heat setup of two famous stars, since Schreiber and Butler let you lose yourself in the movie.
The second hour is harder to rewatch than the first and begins to grind around the Dave Chappelle section.
Chappelle performs well, but the material does not explain why his character and the sudden marriage are necessary. — Bill Simmons
The SNL scene supplies cool backstage access, but the song itself is judged poor. — Bill Simmons
Jackson’s suicide is defended as necessary tragedy and the culmination of earlier addiction and depression signals. — Sean Fennessey
“Why Did You Do That?” is criticized as neither a plausible hit nor a clear intentional parody. — Bill Simmons
The movie appears to condemn pop music without showing why Gaga’s character loses agency or why Jackson Maine’s style is more authentic. — Sean Fennessey
Kid Rock based 'American Badass' on Cameron Poe; Cage did most of his own stunts; Wendover Airport in Utah stood in for Lerner Airfield; the crash was originally set at the White House; the TV version adds a prison-riot rescue scene; the Sands Hotel was filmed before its November 1996 demolition; a crew member was crushed by a static C-123 model; Trisha Yearwood's version of the song was chosen over 14-year-old LeAnn Rimes'; Malkovich was unhappy with daily rewrites; Cusack reportedly refuses interviews about it yet told the BBC he would do a sequel; Simon West wanted a sequel in space; Chappelle improvised most of his lines
Kid Rock based 'American Badass' on Cameron Poe, who is the human version of that song; Cage did most of his own stunts and spoke of explosions five feet behind him, flaming helicopters dropping behind him and ball-bearing bullets over his head, 'a level of intensity, fear, you might say', which a host delivers in a voice halfway between Andrew Luck and Nick Cage.
Asked how many people died in the movie, answers of 24 and 43 are offered, since all those guys died at the boneyard, plus a case for another 500 in Vegas; fist-bumping on the Vegas Strip over a body shop for Colm Meaney's convertible is absurd after losing some 50 American soldiers in the desert. Wendover Airport in Utah stood in for the fictional Lerner Airfield, a fictional airfield with a lot of propane.
The climactic plane crash was originally intended to take place at the White House, which could have gone right into Olympus Has Fallen; Bruckheimer eventually decided Las Vegas was more in keeping with the spirit of the film, which the hosts sarcastically salute as a good call, Jerry.
The TV version includes an opening-credits scene in which a prison riot breaks out while Cage writes letters to his daughter and his diabetic friend saves him from the burning cell, which explains his loyalty; the hosts would have included it, trading fewer letters and less insulin for more prison riots, since the two-hour movie is a little fat at the end.
The hosts want a Cameron Poe prequel set in his eight years in prison, and before that a prequel to the prequel with Poe in the Army Rangers at war, perhaps narrated by Powers Boothe (transcribed 'Powers Booth'), who they think does the opening voiceover about the Rangers.
The crash site was filmed at the Sands Hotel before its demolition in November 1996, the production asking the hotel to wait a couple of weeks for the action scene; somebody was crushed to death at Wendover when a static model of the C-123 fell on him, which is why the credits end 'In Memory of Phil Schwartz'; Trisha Yearwood's version of the song was chosen over 14-year-old Leanne Rimes' original and became a massive hit.
True or false: Malkovich was unhappy during production because the script was being rewritten virtually every day and he had no idea how his character would turn out; the hosts believe it and think it shows in a performance that seems disturbed and angry, imagining him being handed the 'Cy... anara' exchange on set.
Two contradictory internet tidbits: Cusack allegedly dislikes the film so much he refuses to be interviewed about it, which would be odd given his many bad movies, versus Cusack telling the BBC News website in 2012 that a second Con Air 'would be fun' and he would do it if offered. Simon West thought another Con Air should be set in space, which the hosts greenlight as Con Shuttle with prisoners on Mars; on the DVD commentary of Chappelle's Show, Chappelle revealed that he improvised most of his lines on Con Air.
It comes down to Chappelle or Buscemi, though Buscemi may not have been in enough of the movie, even if he probably does qualify; an argument is made for Swamp Thing, who does a nice job in just a few scenes, funny and a little charming despite being the wildly racist Aryan Brotherhood prisoner, and one host would hang out with him.
Asked who they picked for the heat check, the answer is Chappelle, who was great and incredible in what is almost a nothing part with no real role in the movie; the objection that you cannot pick Chappelle because of the racism material is met with the point that he only did the one line, and the pick stands.
The Sally Can't Dance character; losing Chappelle at 43 minutes; Cusack's hair and air of being above the movie; the prison guard's Current Affair, Hard Copy and Geraldo references; the guitar solo after the God line; the insulin subplot; Johnny 23
The Sally Can't Dance character is rough and not great; they probably would have cut it now, and even in the late 90s it was awkward and weird rather than something 1997 audiences thought was good.
Getting rid of Chappelle at 43 minutes has aged the worst; Chappelle could have helped the last two thirds, so cut somebody else and keep Pinball, the funny guy. The guess is they only had him for about three days, that he came up with his own dialogue, and that they did not know what they had.
Cusack's hair hurts: this is the first time it was going back as the 90s went along, like his best friend Piven, and he shows up with a flowing mane that flies around like a huge Trump wig in the convertible scenes. One host feels the movie is beneath him the whole time, an undertone of not believing his agent told him to do it, while another loves Cusack and places this right around Grosse Pointe Blank.
In Cusack's defense, Rosenberg wrote the parts for Cusack and Buscemi with them in mind; Colm Meaney's character even uses 'loquacious', and they are all idiots compared to Cusack, who is the one person in the movie, in sandals, who could have been you while everybody else is a superhero.
The gregarious, hilarious prison guard on the plane, a David Tao type (as transcribed), has aged the worst with his line about seeing eleven Current Affairs, two Hard Copies and a genuine Geraldo interviewee, shows that are all long gone. Also the cheesy guitar solo that kicks in when Cage, told by Bubba Gump that there is no God, declares that he will show God exists, after which Cage walks through a gunshot to the left arm without flinching.
The insulin subplot has aged poorly: there is no need for the diabetic shock the entire movie, since Cage could simply stay for Rachel Tickatin (as transcribed), who would be jumped by Johnny 23. Michael T. Williamson (as transcribed), whom a host really likes, spends the film shouting for his insulin, including 'get off my insulin' during the riot, and a secret favorite moment is Cage's weary 'Jesus' when Williamson gets shot.
Earlier, while picking nits, a host had meant to save the secretly armed DEA agent for aged worst: he pulled the Fredo Corleone, grabbed the gun, sweated and seemed out of control.
Johnny 23 has also aged the worst, though arguably it was aging badly even as the movie came out.
Poe's manslaughter conviction and legal representation; the Vegas Strip landing; who is in charge of the pursuit; the Jailbird as transport; no visibly armed guard; the DEA agent's collapse; cockpit access; Chappelle's fall from 20,000 feet
Usually saved for picking nits but raised at the top: the conviction is one of the most ludicrous moments in movie history. An honorably discharged Army Ranger back from serving his country is set upon by three degenerates in a rainstorm, one pulls a knife, and in self-defense he kills one with a palm strike, nose into the brain, then somehow goes to jail with the worst legal representation of all time. The judge's reasoning that his military skills make him a deadly weapon not subject to the same laws is questioned, Alabama lawyers are invited to write in, the knife that was never found and the witness who ran away are noted, and Serial season four is proposed for the parking lot.
Picking nits is moved up with 67 options because of the lawyers and the way movie bad guys love to antagonize military heroes; the host wants to know once and for all whether you can pull safety pins out of your hand like that, pointing listeners to themailbagattheringer.com while warning nobody to actually do it. The biggest absurdity besides Poe going to jail is landing a plane on the Vegas Strip, which is always packed and would take out a thousand people, being busier at four in the morning than anywhere in the world.
That one did not bother this host, who has been to Vegas twice but does not go out of the hotel room after 10 p.m. and assumes it is quiet. — Shea Serrano
Vegas is dubbed the city that sleeps at 11, going to bed in time for Kimmel.
Resuming, the hosts note only two nits were actually raised despite the promised 67; the whole movie is a nitpick.
Operational priorities on the cop side are unclear: the DEA guy Colm Meaney (transcribed 'Cole Meany') driving a sports car and throwing his weight around, the U.S. Marshals guy Cusack, the military's Black Hawk helicopters chasing the Jailbird and the army at the air base, with nobody clearly in charge of the pursuit of 20 terrible criminals. It is unclear where everybody was going beyond a new supermax for the worst of the worst or why non-terrible people are on board, and the Jailbird, 'no disrespect', is an old piece of junk hunker.
Why is nobody visibly armed on the plane, up on the platform with a rifle just in case? The man secretly armed instead, the DEA agent, pulled a Fredo Corleone or a Nathan Peterman, grabbing the gun, sweating and completely falling apart; this comes from the post-Miami Vice period when movie criminals really hated DEA scumbags.
Other nits: why not have someone with a gun shooting everybody when needed, and why is the cockpit not impossible to reach rather than a knock on the door.
As a nitpick on Chappelle's exit, throwing a guy out of a plane at 20,000 feet would cause far more damage than shown: he should have burst like a water balloon or gone seven feet into the concrete rather than ending up lying on a Volvo.
Malkovich saying the title in the movie, two different times, is a favorite thing and the hallmark of Bruckheimer movies, like 'welcome to the Rock'; the hosts imagine Bruckheimer reading the script in the bathtub and jotting a note that nobody says the title.
Nick Cage has aged the best: he has become a punching bag, but people forget he won an Oscar and was an awesome action hero in the 90s, holding the Grantland action-hero championship belt for two or three years; unlike 80s action guys such as Stallone, Schwarzenegger and Seagal, he, Bruce Willis and Mel Gibson were actors before they were action heroes, and he rattles off post-murder one-liners like the bunny line.
The secret of the movie is that ridiculous things happen but the characters are played by smart, good actors buying in: Cusack, Malkovich, Ving, Buscemi and Cage are all great, and Malkovich is 100% evil, believing everything he is saying.
Cage's hair has aged the best, this being the best year for it: thinning, so he grew it out wavy, with no explanation for going from high and tight out of the army to an outrageous mullet in prison while bettering himself and learning Spanish, looking like a bass tech for Poison.
Chappelle has aged incredibly well, and there is more racially charged humor than remembered, which one host flatly labels racist, including a lot of characters using a slur for each other; Chappelle is nonetheless very funny. The Cyrus kill line 'Cy... anara' (transcribed 'Sigh! Anatta'), which he had prepared and was waiting for someone to call him Cy, is another thing that aged best.
The Buscemi and Cage exchange after Cage comes back up from the kill below is played as a clip: whether working 50 hours a week for 50 years and hoping to die before the indignity of the toilet is insane. Buscemi goes to nine other levels, 'most murders are a crime of necessity rather than desire', and would give the greatest TED talk; a host admits that movies mocking people for having a job hurt his feelings, as with Heat.
Malkovich has aged the best for this host, on his run of villains like In the Line of Fire, really in the pocket as the heavy, funny, smart and scary, knowing exactly how far to go; it was a great period when action movies stopped requiring jacked-up Jose Canseco types and instead hired incredible drama actors to elevate stupid material for less money than the action guys cost. — Chris Ryan
The trend started with Rickman in Die Hard and led to Lithgow and Malkovich; asked which Malkovich role comes to mind first, the answers are In the Line of Fire, Dangerous Liaisons and Teddy KGB, with Con Air right underneath; he looks the same in every movie yet his characters feel different, as in the Killing Fields, and Mile 22 gets a thumbs up with reservations.
