"Now let me tell you something, Streebek. There are two things which clearly differentiate the human species from animals. One, we use cutlery. Two, we're capable of controlling our sexual impulses. Now, you might be the exception, but don't drag me down into your private hell."
I've seen a lot of different versions of Hanks. There's the solid, capable hero of Sully and Captain Phillips. There's the womanizer of Volunteers and Nothing in Common. The workaholic in You've Got Mail and Cast Away. And then there's this cheeky, irreverent scamp who thumbs his nose at authority and still manages to save the day while simultaneously tossing one liners at both his partner and the bad guys.
I'd seen Dragnet just once, I believe, back when the smell of plastic was still fresh on its VHS case. I would have been a first grader at that point, so that should give you a bit of an indication as to how well I remembered it. This is something of a lost era of Hanx films for me, given that I was old enough to remember hearing about them or even seeing them when they were first released, but not old enough to have formed any solid opinions about them one way or the other. Because of this, Dragnet was lost in a sort of no-man's-land from my mistaken assumption that "Well, if I can't really remember it very well, it must not have been that good." This, for me, is the true beauty of The Year of Hanks. Not only am I getting to relive my favorites again with the fresh perspective of a reviewer as opposed to a casual moviegoer, but I'm rediscovering hidden gems that I never really gave a fair shot the first time around.
I only vaguely recall the 1967 series starring Jack Webb and Harry Morgan, the latter of whom appears in the film as a continuation of his original character, officer-turned-Captain Gannon. Webb, unfortunately, had passed away five years prior to the film's release, but was given a living tribute in the person of Dan Aykroyd, who stars as Webb's character's nephew and namesake, Joe Friday. In truth, the homage couldn't have been more fitting - Aykroyd had apparently been a fan of Webb from childhood, to the point where he paid the late actor tribute by giving many of his characters (such as Ray Stantz in Ghostbusters) the ability to recite complex facts and technical information at the drop of a hat. When the opportunity to make Dragnet arose, Aykroyd jumped at the chance to both write the script and to step into the polished leather Oxfords of his idol.
It's readily apparent that Aykroyd dove headfirst into the role and settled comfortably into it, duplicating Webb's flattop haircut and mimicking his mannerisms with such dedication that Aykroyd reports having started to dream in character. Joe Friday the younger is as much a representation of Webb as one could hope for, as demonstrated by his no-nonsense narrative style and his meticulously arranged desk.
Enter Pep Streebek, an interdepartmental transfer assigned as Friday's partner who has little regard for rules and procedure. It would be entirely too easy to dismiss Friday and Streebek as two-dimensional opposites were it not for the fact that Joe smokes and downs chili dogs while Pep enjoys fruit salad and sushi. As one might expect of any good buddy comedy, Friday and Streebek spend as much time warring with their opposing personalities as they do chasing down the criminal organization believed responsible for a string of bizarre thefts throughout the city.
It might just be the affinity I have for impish, smartass cops, but I've got a soft spot for Pep Streebek. He's flirtatious without being a lech, and he's got just enough of a rebellious streak to offset Friday's fastidiousness without being completely irresponsible. If there's one thing I could have wished for more of in this film, it'd perhaps be an additional scene or two thrown in of Pep's burgeoning office romance with one of the female officers in the department. In all likelihood, though, it'd disrupt the pacing of the film, which is really more focused on Friday, and would have brought a little too much weight to something that was supposed to be kept light and casual. What's best about Pep, however, is the fact that his character, while not losing his puckish shine, does develop a healthy respect for duty throughout the course of the film, and I'm a sucker for character development.
I've found my own Jack Webb in Hanx, it seems. Had I continued on the career path I thought I was going to take as an actor, I may well have sought to borrow some of his mannerisms and the finer points of his style - I'd draw the line at getting myself a Forrest Gump flattop or talking to a volleyball, but I could see myself seeking to emulate the almost hoarse, raspy quality his voice takes on when he gets agitated, or the absolute dedication with which he becomes animated without fear of looking silly when the moment calls for it.
There's been a lot of upheaval and unrest in Hollywood lately, with the most recent being accusations of sexual harassment and assault directed at Kevin Spacey. There have long been murmurs of Spacey's affinity for young men, and I think most were in denial of the accuracy of these rumors because of the man's undeniable talent. The same was true for Bill Cosby, with his accusers' allegations having gone unheard for so long because they were targeting "America's Dad." The culture in Hollywood is changing, though, and I think the era of sweeping things under the rug and buying silence is coming to an end. This is a good thing, but it also means trying to separate love for an actor or director's work from their deplorable actions behind the scenes.
This is why now, more than ever, we need a guy like Tom Hanks. In his case, there's no need to choose. You can love Forrest Gump or Captain Phillips or Woody the cowboy and feel completely at ease knowing the guy beneath the part really is that goofy, genuine, and soulful when he punches his card at the end of the day. I may never get a Joe Friday kind of opportunity to pay tribute to him in a professional role as an actor, but with any luck, I can bang away at a typewriter or tweet pictures of orphaned gloves or reenact a story with a wildly energetic flair and feel I'm doing justice to any of the multitude of Hankses there are, and there are a lot of them.
Still, though, I think Pep Streebeck might just be my favorite.
I'd seen Dragnet just once, I believe, back when the smell of plastic was still fresh on its VHS case. I would have been a first grader at that point, so that should give you a bit of an indication as to how well I remembered it. This is something of a lost era of Hanx films for me, given that I was old enough to remember hearing about them or even seeing them when they were first released, but not old enough to have formed any solid opinions about them one way or the other. Because of this, Dragnet was lost in a sort of no-man's-land from my mistaken assumption that "Well, if I can't really remember it very well, it must not have been that good." This, for me, is the true beauty of The Year of Hanks. Not only am I getting to relive my favorites again with the fresh perspective of a reviewer as opposed to a casual moviegoer, but I'm rediscovering hidden gems that I never really gave a fair shot the first time around.
I only vaguely recall the 1967 series starring Jack Webb and Harry Morgan, the latter of whom appears in the film as a continuation of his original character, officer-turned-Captain Gannon. Webb, unfortunately, had passed away five years prior to the film's release, but was given a living tribute in the person of Dan Aykroyd, who stars as Webb's character's nephew and namesake, Joe Friday. In truth, the homage couldn't have been more fitting - Aykroyd had apparently been a fan of Webb from childhood, to the point where he paid the late actor tribute by giving many of his characters (such as Ray Stantz in Ghostbusters) the ability to recite complex facts and technical information at the drop of a hat. When the opportunity to make Dragnet arose, Aykroyd jumped at the chance to both write the script and to step into the polished leather Oxfords of his idol.
It's readily apparent that Aykroyd dove headfirst into the role and settled comfortably into it, duplicating Webb's flattop haircut and mimicking his mannerisms with such dedication that Aykroyd reports having started to dream in character. Joe Friday the younger is as much a representation of Webb as one could hope for, as demonstrated by his no-nonsense narrative style and his meticulously arranged desk.
Enter Pep Streebek, an interdepartmental transfer assigned as Friday's partner who has little regard for rules and procedure. It would be entirely too easy to dismiss Friday and Streebek as two-dimensional opposites were it not for the fact that Joe smokes and downs chili dogs while Pep enjoys fruit salad and sushi. As one might expect of any good buddy comedy, Friday and Streebek spend as much time warring with their opposing personalities as they do chasing down the criminal organization believed responsible for a string of bizarre thefts throughout the city.
It might just be the affinity I have for impish, smartass cops, but I've got a soft spot for Pep Streebek. He's flirtatious without being a lech, and he's got just enough of a rebellious streak to offset Friday's fastidiousness without being completely irresponsible. If there's one thing I could have wished for more of in this film, it'd perhaps be an additional scene or two thrown in of Pep's burgeoning office romance with one of the female officers in the department. In all likelihood, though, it'd disrupt the pacing of the film, which is really more focused on Friday, and would have brought a little too much weight to something that was supposed to be kept light and casual. What's best about Pep, however, is the fact that his character, while not losing his puckish shine, does develop a healthy respect for duty throughout the course of the film, and I'm a sucker for character development.
I've found my own Jack Webb in Hanx, it seems. Had I continued on the career path I thought I was going to take as an actor, I may well have sought to borrow some of his mannerisms and the finer points of his style - I'd draw the line at getting myself a Forrest Gump flattop or talking to a volleyball, but I could see myself seeking to emulate the almost hoarse, raspy quality his voice takes on when he gets agitated, or the absolute dedication with which he becomes animated without fear of looking silly when the moment calls for it.
There's been a lot of upheaval and unrest in Hollywood lately, with the most recent being accusations of sexual harassment and assault directed at Kevin Spacey. There have long been murmurs of Spacey's affinity for young men, and I think most were in denial of the accuracy of these rumors because of the man's undeniable talent. The same was true for Bill Cosby, with his accusers' allegations having gone unheard for so long because they were targeting "America's Dad." The culture in Hollywood is changing, though, and I think the era of sweeping things under the rug and buying silence is coming to an end. This is a good thing, but it also means trying to separate love for an actor or director's work from their deplorable actions behind the scenes.
This is why now, more than ever, we need a guy like Tom Hanks. In his case, there's no need to choose. You can love Forrest Gump or Captain Phillips or Woody the cowboy and feel completely at ease knowing the guy beneath the part really is that goofy, genuine, and soulful when he punches his card at the end of the day. I may never get a Joe Friday kind of opportunity to pay tribute to him in a professional role as an actor, but with any luck, I can bang away at a typewriter or tweet pictures of orphaned gloves or reenact a story with a wildly energetic flair and feel I'm doing justice to any of the multitude of Hankses there are, and there are a lot of them.
Still, though, I think Pep Streebeck might just be my favorite.
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