Here’s a Dope Jack Nicholson Double Feature

A pair of vintage Jack joints in honor of his 83rd birthday.

Yesterday was Jack Nicholson’s birthday. Since he’s my favorite actor and I recently watched two classic Nicholson movies, I thought I’d recommend them as a double feature. They’re only a year apart, both from the period when Nicholson and his peers had just transitioned from the Roger Corman school of the late 60s to the New Hollywood class of the early 70s. One is an arresting example of Nicholson’s introspective, meditative, but no less captivating side; the other is indicative of the ferocious madcap energy we’ve come to expect from the man.

The King of Marvin Gardens (1972)

The King of Marvin Gardens stars Nicholson and Bruce Dern as a pair of brothers running a shady investment scheme in Atlantic City. Jason (Dern) is the charismatic con man who brings the more timid and introverted David (Nicholson) in on his doomed plans. Apparently, Nicholson and Dern were originally cast in opposite roles, but director Rob Rafelson decided a swap would be more effective. An inspired choice, as it’s pretty damn cool to watch Nicholson be this brilliant against type. It’s also rad to watch real-life buddies Nicholson and Dern play off each other at the height of their respective raw talents. 

The Last Detail (1973)

The Last Detail is an incredible precursor to the work that would make Nicholson a household name in One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest, and a fuckin’ solid early-70s character study in its own right. Nicholson and Otis Young play a pair of Navy men who’ve been ordered to escort the 18-year old Larry Meadows (Randy Quaid) to Naval prison for stealing pennies from an officer’s charity fund. The trio embark on a mission to show Meadows a good time during his final days of freedom, and Nicholson is absolutely hypnotizing from start to finish, booming with his own strange brand of theatricality and uncanny bravado in every scene. When I watched The Last Detail, I couldn’t help but think of my days as a Mormon missionary, when any chance to break away from the two-year, 24/7 regimen as a servant of “the great work,” even if only for a few hours, was an odyssey of desperate, quiet liberation. Anyway, they just don’t make ‘em like The Last Detail, nor like Jack Nicholson, anymore.