January 17, 1987| Right off the top of my head, I can’t think of anything very harsh to say about Echo Park, an innocuous comedy-drama about ambitious eccentrics in a tumbledown section of Los Angeles.
The film, which will have its Houston premiere this weekend at the Rice University Media Center, is more a collection of anecdotes and observations than a story with a strong narrative drive. But that’s OK: It actually works best when the very randomness of its plotting evokes a mood of extremely casual cheeriness. Things get tedious only when scriptwriter Michael Ventura, a film critic for L.A. Weekly, and director Robert Dornhelm try to work up some conflicts to resolve for the happy ending.
Susan Dey, currently appearing in TV’s L.A. Law, plays May, an unmarried mother and would-be actress who waits on tables while awaiting her big break. She and her 8-year-old son, Henry (Christopher Walker), share the top floor of a seedy two-story house with August (Michael Bowen), a hearty Austrian “body sculptor” who has come to Hollywood in search of the stardom already attained by his countryman, Arnold Schwarzenegger. Jonathan (Tom Hulce), a pizza deliveryman who dabbles in songwriting, moves into a spare bedroom, where he proceeds to pine for May while she flirts (among other things) with August.
But the romantic triangle is given surprisingly little emphasis. Instead, Echo Park concentrates more on the self-deceptions of feckless dreamers. May gets a job delivering strip-o-grams, but convinces herself she is gaining experience as an actress. August dons Viking garb and cavorts in a TV commercial, but doesn’t appear headed for the international fame he feels is his destiny. Only Jonathan seems to be truly talented — a record producer takes a brief interest in one of his songs — yet he lacks the hopeful self-confidence of his neighbors.
Jonathan is highly critical of the diehard optimism he sees all around him on the fringes of Hollywood: “I’m so sick,” he says, “of all the people in this town who are poets, screenwriters and actors, when we’re all just delivering pizzas.”
Even so, Echo Park turns out to be an affectionate ode to all those dreamers. Ventura obviously knows the kind of people he’s writing about. And Dornhelm, an Austrian-born filmmaker, provides the viewpoint of a bemused outsider who finds these people exotic and interesting.
Hulce, the giggling Mozart of Amadeus, makes an engaging impression, though the script doesn’t give him much of a character to play. Dey and Bowen fare somewhat better, if only because there’s greater depth to their roles. John Paragon brings a nice touch of polyester sleaze to his part as Dey’s boss. Look closely, and you’ll notice among the supporting players Richard Marin, of Cheech and Chong fame, and Cassandra Peterson, minus the black wig she wears as Elvira, the TV horror movie hostess.
Karl Kofler’s cinematography is pretty, especially in the neon-lit night scenes, and the movie as a whole has its moments of quiet charm.
