Skip to main content

It Came From the '90s: Remembering Speed at 25, or, an Ode to Sandy and Keanu


This series looks back at the 1990s and its influence on the generation of people who came of age during the decade.

Back in the day, my friends and I saw a lot of instant-classics at the cinema, often during college breaks., including Se7en (1995), Showgirls (1995), and Heat (1995). Jan de Bont's white-knuckle thrill-ride Speed (1994) was definitely one of our favorites. We walked out of the theater that night both dazed and energized. The shear breakneck pace of the film's sustained action was exhilarating—most of it is one long action set piece that only slows down occasionally for some beautifully timed character moments, especially those between stars Sandra Bullock and Keanu Reeves, who share an undeniable chemistry


We're always looking for someone like us in the movies, someone who makes us feel a little better about ourselves. As a tall, lanky kid in an era of muscle-bound action heroes (including several of the popular guys at school), I always appreciated Reeves' slender build and the way he carried himself with a certain humbleness. I even deluded myself into believing we had similar body types. I mean, we kind of did, but still, he's Keanu Freaking Reeves and I'm not. Might've been a bit of a reach, but it made me feel just a touch more confident in my thin-kid body. For Speed, Reeves packed on some muscle but stayed lithe and lean. Add to that his innate soulfulness, making Jack a sensitive, thoughtful hero, perfect for the nineties. It's one of the actor's best performances, and as has been Reeves' hallmark throughout his career, it's also beautifully ego-free. It's Gen-X, Zen-Action Hero, nineties-style.


And then there was Sandra Bullock. I was already smitten with her from the previous year's entertainingly wacky Stallone-Snipes sci-fi B-movie on steroids, Demolition Man, so I was pleasantly surprised to see her playing such a big role in Speed. As Annie, she's the "wildcat behind the wheel" (who's riding the bus because she's had her driver's license revoked—for speeding), steering the bus out of harm's way while maintaining a speed of at least fifty miles per hour—"Stay on or get off? Stay on or get off?!?" Much of our post-movie discussion that night revolved around how we could meet a girl like Sandy. Did girls like her even exist in our teenage sphere? We were decidedly unsure about that.


All these years later it's easy to forget what a revelation Bullock was in Speed. It's one of those rare cinematic performances that emphatically announces a young actor or actress as a force to be reckoned with forever after. Think Michelle Pfeiffer in Scarface, or Robert De Niro in Mean Streets. Bullock's charisma and command of the screen is off the charts. She's funny, sarcastic, thoughtful, and with plenty of quick-witted charm to spare. Her natural and assured performance made Annie into an iconic Gen-X crush.


Not long after seeing Speed, I tore a full-page photo of her out of a magazine and taped it to my bedroom wall. That fall, it moved with me to my dorm room, where it hung for the rest of my collegiate career. There she was, standing in a field of bright yellow sunflowers, with that megawatt smile, in the decade's ubiquitous garment, the flowing sundress. At least that's how I remember it today—absolute, peak nineties Sandy.


One of my favorite moments from Speed is also one of the film's quietest, because it highlights the great chemistry between Bullock and Reeves. Annie asks Jack what will happen if they win in this battle with Dennis Hopper's mad bomber. "Then tomorrow we'll play another one," he replies solemnly.


Bullock's response is just right, with crisp comic timing, instantly injecting a dose of levity into a dire situation: "But I'm not available to drive tomorrow. Busy." Her reading of the line is so wonderfully underplayed, said with a sly, knowing smile, that it momentarily melts the tension. Reeves smiles ever so slightly, and it's as authentic a reaction shot as you'll ever see. It's a wonderful example of two actors working in perfect harmony This is why, twenty-five years later, many of us will always ship Keanu and Sandy.



Speed is filled with memorable scenes like that, including several from expert scene-stealers like Hopper ("The whim of a madman!"), Jeff Daniels ("That's our scumbag!"), and Alan Ruck ("It's okay, if you need to, you go right ahead and vomit."). It's also the best kind of feel-good film, with a diverse and eccentric cast of bus riding strangers who grow to genuinely care about each other through their shared, traumatic experience. Sure, most of them are broadly painted caricatures, but the cracking script by Graham Yost and the actor's performances manage to make us care for them, just the same. When Ortiz (Carlos Carrasco) tells Jake, "You're not too bright man, but ya got some big, round, hairy cajones," I never know whether to laugh or cry because I want to do both. Speed works equally well on disparate levels—as an action-packed thriller and as a thoughtful ensemble comedy-drama.


If Speed is on television, I'm stopping everything and watching it—even though I own the Blu-ray. It's hard to believe this June will mark twenty-five years since Speed opened. After all this time, and over dozens (hundreds?) of viewings, it's still thrilling, and Bullock's and Reeves' chemistry still a joy to behold. It's one of the most important movies of the '90s for me, and, amazingly, still holds up today as beautifully as it did that summer night in 1994.


Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Blowing in the Wind: Marilyn Monroe and That Iconic White Dress

This month marks sixty-five years since one of the most iconic moments in twentieth-century popular culture: Marilyn Monroe’s angelic white dress being blown sky high by wind rushing up from a subway grate beneath her feet in the film  The Seven Year Itch . Billy Wilder shot multiple takes, while Sam Shaw snapped photo after photo for what had to be the biggest publicity stunt ever staged at the time. Marilyn wore two pairs of underwear for the shot, yet, as noted in Lois Banner's critical biography Marilyn: The Passion and the Paradox  (2012), "a dark blotch of pubic hair" remained visible to the 100 male photographers and over 1,500 male spectators, all of whom crowded eagerly around the set to gawk and drool.  Due to strict 1950s movie censorship laws, photos had to be doctored to white out the offending blotch, but those in attendance saw it, over and over, shot after shot. Marilyn's husband at the time, the extremely old fashioned Joe DiMaggio, stormed off th

All I Want For Christmas: Phoebe Cates's Monologue in Gremlins

Joe Dante's 1980s classic Gremlins will always be a subversive Christmas favorite. From Spike exploding in the microwave to Mrs. Daigle's "stairlift to hell", the movie is packed with deliciously transgressive moments that turn the holly jolly season right on its ear. None are more memorable, though, than Phoebe Cates delivering her legendary "worst thing that ever happened to me on Christmas" monologue. It's a jaw-dropping, tour-de-force moment, a truly horrific story that's also one of the most darkly comic moments in Christmas movie history. Cates really shines during this scene. There's no denying just how seminal that scene of hers in Fast Times at Ridgemont High was for a generation of young people, but her speech in Gremlins is equally important and a wonderful showcase for her serious and comedic acting skills.  Here's the speech, in its entirety. No Christmas season is complete without at least one viewing

It Came From the '90s: Kelly Bundy and the Alternative Family Ideal

This series looks back at the 1990s and its influence on the generation of people who came of age during the decade. Very few television series in the 1990s were as polarizing as Married...with Children . People either loved it or they loathed it. TV critics and good upstanding Catholic families like mine fell into the latter category. Soon after it debuted during my first year of junior high in 1987 (not quite the '90s, but on the brink), my parents made it clear that we would not be watching. I believe the words they used were "vulgar," "unfunny," and, one of their perennial favorites, "risque." Of course, this meant it immediately took on a prurient appeal for me. Parents can never win, honestly. Kelly Bundy—the talented Christina Applegate, who never gets enough credit for elevating the blonde airhead trope into an art form—only further piqued my interest. She was like the girls in school with the absurdly voluminous hair and ridiculously sh

"That girl looks just like Pat Benatar"

Linda, that girl looks just like Pat Benatar. I know. Wait, there are three girls here at Ridgemont who have cultivated the Pat Benatar look. I was just a kid when Fast Times at Ridgemont High opened in 1982. Still though, even at the tender young age of seven, I knew who Pat Benatar was, because a.) her music was all over the radio and even then I recognized the utter awesomeness of her vocal talent in songs like "Hit Me With Your Best Shot", and b.) some of the older girls around town were obviously cribbing their looks—clothes, hair, makeup, strut—from Benatar's own style. Benatar was ubiquitous. So, when I see or hear vintage-era Benatar now, I think of Fast Times , but mostly I remember that ubiquity—of both the performer and her legion of young imitators. I know it's not true, but when I recollect those years I swear every older girl looked like either Benatar, Juice Newton, or Joan Jett. It's easy to forget, years later, that

Misspent Youth: Joanne Whalley

Looking back at the pop culture mainstays of this Gen-Xer's gloriously misspent youth. One of the most famous and oft-quoted Seinfeld scenes involves Bobka and Jerry's discovery of the existence of Cinnamon Bobka. After Elaine scoffs at the notion of such a thing, even calling it a "lesser Bobka," Jerry unleashes one of the great defenses of a freshly ground spice ever delivered: People love cinnamon. It should be on tables at restaurants along with salt and pepper. Anytime anyone says, "Oh This is so good. What's in it?" The answer invariably comes back, Cinnamon. Cinnamon. Again and again.  Joanne Whalley is like Cinnamon. Yes, I just compulsively double-checked my DVD copy and it's the unrated version, thank you very much. Let me explain. You see, during the formative years of my misspent youth, if I stumbled on a movie featuring the doe-eyed, petite, beautiful English actress, invariably I'd feel like Jerry does about Cin

Misspent Youth: Randi Brooks

Looking back at the pop culture mainstays of this Gen-Xer's gloriously misspent youth. ***** A note on the series and this site: This might be the final post in the "Misspent Youth" series - at least here. Maybe it'll eventually move with me. Oh, right, I buried the lede: I've moved, and would love for you to come visit me at my new site, The Starfire Lounge ! Moving forward, this site will likely cease to be updated, but will remain around for posterity and your continued reading pleasure. I have a few more things to post here over the coming days or weeks as a sort of "everything must go" send-off to the old girl. I also plan to write a final farewell post to my main online home for the last five years. Stay tuned and, as always, thanks for reading. ***** It's no surprise that the talented but now mostly forgotten Randi Brooks would make an appearance in the Misspent Youth series. She may not be a household name, but her resume

Margot Kidder and the Childhood Crush That Will Never Die

"I dream about sex, flying, and being chased by Nazis." — Margot Kidder,  Rolling Stone , "The Education of Margot Kidder", 1981 ***** File that quote under, "Reasons why I love Margot Kidder." Last month, Margot hopped a one-way flight with old pal Chris Reeve off into the stars and beyond, where they could reenact their iconic moment from  Superman  (1978), for all eternity. I wrote a little about Margot, here and here , trying to explain why this particular actress meant so much to me as a kid growing up in the 1980s. I thought that would be enough. It wasn't.* Those posts were my fumbling attempts to sort out just how large an impact Margot had on my young life, and, to my present-day surprise, how much she still means to me now. Before news of her death, I hadn't thought of her in ages. I assumed the early childhood crush I harbored for my Lois Lane had dwindled and faded. Ha! I was a fool. My crush on Margot was very

It Came From the '90s: My Secret Crush on The Nanny

This series looks back at the 1990s and its influence on the generation of people who came of age during the decade. For six seasons in the 1990s, The Nanny made many of us laugh. At times, it could be downright hilarious . At others, well, not so much . This isn't a review of a '90s sitcom staple, though. No. This is simply an excuse to come clean about something I've kept buried deep inside for over two decades now: I had a secret crush on The Nanny herself, Fran Drescher. The unadulterated nineties-ness of this is practically blinding. And I love it. While The Nanny was sometimes quite funny, thanks largely to Drescher's spunky charisma and wholehearted commitment, the show was never considered hip. People my parents age seemed to love it, but my friends preferred, well, Friends . That smile! Those legs! That dress! It's all overloading my circuits. I watched Friends with my friends, but I also thoroughly enjoyed The Nanny , to

"Opium Wars" by Zoe Lund

She wants there to be more of her. More space taken by her body, More decibels conquered by her voice, More time by her wakefulness, More equations by her addition. She wants more, I want less. Her blade is rusty, musty, sweaty and vain. I like it clean and sharp and dark-bright. She traffics in surplus, I bare my essentials. Her world is elastic but brittle. Mine is bony but moonlit. Hers flows, she ebbs. Mine ebbs, I flow. She dies in life, I live in death. —Zoe Lund, “Opium Wars”

Misspent Youth: Morgan Fairchild

Looking back at the movies, music, television, and other pop culture mainstays of this Gen-Xer's gloriously misspent youth. Once I decided that Morgan Fairchild would be the subject of the next installment in this series, I did what I usually do and researched online for a bit, just to refresh my memory on details that might've previously been lost to time. Morgan Fairchild was legitimately one of the most potent sex symbols of the 1970s and '80s. Not that I needed much refresher when it came to Fairchild. Born Patsy Ann McClenny in Dallas, Texas, February 3, 1950, the American actress was everywhere during those oh-so-crucial formative years of my pop culture obsession. She loomed large in the growing ranks of proto-haughty glamour queens, a trope that was hot on prime time TV in the 1980s. The characters she was most well-known for were drop-dead gorgeous and didn't suffer fools lightly. Really, few ever did it better than Fairchild. The shirt do