ESTEVEZ'S CALLING CARD; Filmmaker proud of latest effort


After making his labor of love in Austin, Emilio Estevez felt like quitting the movie business. His film, "The War at Home, "was warmly received by those who saw it - but few did. It played only three cities, not even getting an art-house run. On Tuesday it debuts on video, but Estevez isn't satisfied. "The whole experience was heartbreaking," he said. "I wanted to quit the business. I was that upset - very disappointed."

With a screenplay adapted by Texan James Duff from his play "Homefront, The War at Home" depicts a dysfunctional Texas family at Thanksgiving 1972. An ex-soldier son (Estevez) has returned from Vietnam, haunted and traumatized. Consumed by holiday traditions, his self-absorbed clan can't cope with his inner turmoil. Oscar-winner Kathy Bates plays his petty, superficial mom, with Estevez's father, Martin Sheen, as his conservative, patriotic dad. His sister is played by Kimberly Williams of "Father of the Bride" and TV's Relativity. The video, from Touchstone, is rated R, priced for rental.

Attracted by Duff's strong script, the actors worked for minimal union wages, with Estevez directing. "We paid their expenses, and that was about it," he said. "But these were great roles. So few times are we given a chance to really act. Usually you're just jumping through a window or firing a gun at someone."

Duff's play had been produced in 1984 on Broadway, where it starred Carroll O'Connor and Frances Sternhagen. At his father's behest, Estevez read it and tried for three years to get financing for a film. Finally, he agreed to do "Mighty Ducks 3" for free for Disney in exchange for "War at Home "backing. (It still peeves Estevez that he got above-title billing in that light kid comedy despite doing only a cameo.) For The War at Home's 41-day shoot, he first scouted locations in Arlington, Duff's hometown. But Arlington "wasn't very cinematic," Estevez said. So he chose Austin, which he knew had a good crew base and is "a very film-friendly town." "I'd love to do another film there," he said. "In fact, I could live there."

Estevez shot the movie in the summer of 1995 for a modest $ 4.2 million - "the catering budget on a Batman movie," he said wryly. Last fall it premiered to raves at the Austin Film Festival. Then on Thanksgiving weekend, it opened in New York and Los Angeles, setting the stage for a gradual rollout to other markets. That didn't happen. The War at Home quickly sank from sight.

Estevez's father is just as perturbed. "The film had no promotion and no advertising," Sheen said, "so it made no money. "But it got strong reviews. I don't generally go by reviews, but they were 90 percent terrific. We just didn't have support of the studio. It wasn't their kind of film."

The film's sole other run was in Austin last May, secured only after long campaigning by the man whose home was used for the shoot. The film drew more raves and did good business in the capital city. "I was bawling after the screening," said Austin American-Statesman movie critic Ann Hornaday. "It was a really good, solid movie. The performances were incredible, the writing outstanding, and I thought he (Estevez) did a really good job of directing."

So what went wrong?

Blame it on the major-studio system, in which small films can be trampled by costly ones that have a chance of making mega-millions. In Disney's case, 101 Dalmatians and Evita were getting the lavish treatment late last year that Estevez could only dream about. Disney officials wouldn't comment on Estevez's project, but he's not alone. Many studios routinely give small films their initial splash on video. Even so, Estevez feels he delivered a quality product and Disney "dropped the ball" since "they really don't know how to market movies like this." He also has deeper suspicions. "The conspiracy theorist in me says, if this movie succeeded, every producer on the lot who had a small, pet project would be coming out of the woodwork. So the movie couldn't succeed. It's not Disney's forte."

Estevez, 35, has starred in and directed two other films: 1987's Wisdom and 1990's Men at Work (with brother Charlie Sheen). But neither was well received, and he knows they won't serve as a directorial calling card. Estevez also has appeared in a long string of films since his Brat Pack days in 1985's The Breakfast Club. Movies such as The Mighty Ducks, Stakeout and Young Guns were hits - each spawning sequels - but for Estevez they weren't satisfying enough. "I wanted to do something with more weight and substance," he said. "Movies like The Mighty Ducks aren't nourishing for an actor." His father and older brother already had made Vietnam films, Martin Sheen with Apocalypse Now and Charlie Sheen with Platoon. But Estevez says The War at Home "wasn't just me taking my crack at Vietnam." "This film is about a dysfunctional family, not Vietnam. The family couldn't deal with a problem outside the norm."

Sheen defies anyone to find a family "that doesn't qualify as dysfunctional in some way. That's a reflection of our society and culture. We're all products of that." Yet he playfully banters with his son, saying he "adores" him. From a work standpoint, he also takes direction from him. "He's an artist," Sheen said. "Whatever he says goes."

"My father and I have a very healthy relationship," Estevez said. "Otherwise we wouldn't be able to work together." (They've also acted together in two TV movies.) Sheen is known as a liberal political activist, and there was no chance Estevez was going to Vietnam. Of course, he was only 10 in 1972. But Estevez said his mother once told him that if the war continued, she would take him to Canada. His War at Home character didn't get that choice. His father wouldn't help him go to Canada to escape the draft, but instead pushed him toward Vietnam and "his duty."

To score the film, Estevez chose songs from that divisive era by Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young, including "Almost Cut My Hair, Find the Cost of Freedom and Deja Vu." But first he screened it for them with a temporary soundtrack. "After the screening," Estevez said, "Graham Nash screamed that he was proud of the film. He said 'If we recorded it, it's yours.' And David Crosby was sobbing uncontrollably. He said, 'I know that family, man.' " Nash, Crosby and Stephen Stills then sang "Find the Cost of Freedom" for Estevez outside the theater. He calls it "one of those magical moments I'll remember the rest of my life." Yet even a planned soundtrack album never materialized. "It was just a nightmare all around," Estevez said. Still, he isn't bitter. "This was a learning experience," Estevez said. "I've taken my lumps in this business just like anyone, and I'm a big boy. At least now I've got a great calling card as a director to show actors." Being an actor, Estevez considers himself an "actor-friendly" director. To direct himself, he uses video playback as a monitor. He calls the process "overwhelming at times, but there's nothing more gratifying than when it works. And I think a lot of this movie really works."


Article by BRUCE WESTBROOK
Copyright 1997 The Houston Chronicle Publishing Company The Houston Chronicle September 08, 1997 Article contributed by Elaine for Presenting...Emilio